The situation has risen from bad to worse, and it doesn’t take a single day. A large army is heading straight to our region. Sadly, I have no idea how many people are coming in our direction, but I know that there are quite a number of them.
Meanwhile, Rachel scoffs that off. She’s sitting down in front of the fireplace with a cookie in his right hand. The sky outside is probably orange, a glimpse of orange light comes out from the slits of the curtain, telling me the time.
“C’mon, Helen, relax, nothing will happen, it’s been like this ever since,” Rachel comments.
I’d hate to be caught off-guard. Sure, my father has an army that is well-armed, but I doubt that he can do so much with the said army if the numbers of enemies are greater than anticipated. My M4 is polished and ready to go, at the very least.
“What makes you say that? Or rather, why are you so confident in that, dear sister?” I ask Rachel, doubting whether our father’s army can hold the line against the invading mercenaries out of nowhere. Are they even mercenaries, or government troops? For that, I have no clear answer.
The only source of information is from the maids that go around the mansion, back and forth, worrying whether they can ask their lord for a day off. That’s an already alarming sign, isn’t it? Rachel didn’t tell me the whole story, did she?
“Because this is not the first time it has happened. It has happened a lot of times. An army build-up near our territory is usual, mainly because we are on the border region, don’t you think that the neighboring kingdom doesn’t do the usual posturing to us, again?” Rachel asks me.
“Why are we still under lockdown, then?” I ask Rachel.
“For that, I have no idea,” Rachel answers.
I crafted two 60-round casket magazines made from steel in the library earlier. In case I need to stand my ground, that magazine will come in handy, somehow and somewhat. I also ask Larse to fetch me a big leather bag to store two large books. In truth, it’s a ruse so I can have a place to store my magazines.
“Helen, is your black rifle so special?” Rachel asks me.
“The Stoner’s rifle? Of course, it is,” I answer the obvious. Even against a Gatling gun, the M4 can let out a larger amount of fire because it’s gas-operated instead of hand-operated like the Gatling gun. I come to that conclusion because it seems that this world technology is equivalent to the American Civil War.
However, I only have three hundred rounds of 5.56x45 NATO bullets. I can’t guarantee that every single bullet will kill an enemy, especially when it’s me against one battalion of enemy soldiers. How warfare works in this world, though?
With magic, it’ll not be as simple as rank fire against enemy soldiers, won’t it? The magical spell will definitely change the balance between the two sides. However, I should be more concerned about the girl that keeps munching on cookies.
“Rachel, let’s just say, what would you do if this mansion got attacked?” I ask.
“It won’t,” Rachel answers.
“I wish I have your confidence,” I put the 5.56 bullets one by one into the 60-round magazines. Right beside me is the leather bag that contains six 30-round magazines. I slowly put the two large magazines in the leather bag.
“Helen, relax, our father will keep us safe, I promise,” Rachel answers.
I can’t trust my father for my own safety. The only person you can rely upon for safety is yourself, and no matter how strong my father is when the enemy aims its rifle at me, it’s only up to me to kill the enemy or the enemy kills me first.
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My sister keeps making me frustrated. She can’t wield a rifle, and she underestimates security threats. I have only been here for some months, and yet, it feels that Rachel is really my own older sister. She keeps me safe, she helps me in making bullets, and it’s not like she isn’t knowledgeable on this world standard. Yet, we don’t always get along.
“Helen, don’t worry too much about it, ok?”
“I’ll try,” I sling my rifle on my shoulder and carry the leather bag away with me. It’s my go-to bag for combat situations. It’s just a leather bag for cavalry units in this world. It’s quite large. Usually, it contains basic survival items, such as blades, rifle cleaning kits, dried foods, spare clothes, and so on.
However, in my case, it’s my grimoire and spare magazines. I’m not sure getting kitchen knives will do the job. However, my father and my mother tolerate having strange contraptions rather than blades hanging around near my leather bag.
I hope the lockdown will be lifted soon. I enter my bedroom and put the leather bag in my wardrobe, right next to where I usually store my M4. I close the white wardrobe door and put my head on the comfy pillow of the bed. For now, I am not sure about what’ll happen.
“There are that many? That’s not good.”
As I try to close my eyes, the voice of my father enters my ears. I open my eyes again, grab my MH rifle, and walk to the hallway. If my father says something negative, it means something will happen very soon.
I put my hand on the door handle to his office, strangely enough, it’s locked. Usually, if I turn the door handle, the door usually opens without any meaningful problems whatsoever. However, I can peek from the keyhole.
In his usual room, two people are standing. All of them are wearing blue wool military shirts alongside white military pants. It is unclear whether they’re mercenaries of Alduria military forces. However, what matters is the topic of their conversation.
“How about the defense?”
“Outer hill is probably safe, but we don’t have any meaningful anti-dragon weaponry,” one of them replies.
“Explain meaningful, because I remember I bought five magic ballistae a month ago,” my father replies.
“Well, sir, it’s all positioned around the village, we want you to move it to the military position so we can protect ourselves from a possible dragon attack,” he replies.
“And what the village will defend itself with?” my father asks.
“Sir, respectfully, those ballistae placements are not strategic. It’ll protect the village, but how about us?” the other person asks.
“The military has its own ballistae, am I right? Those ballistae at the village are privately owned,” he replies with a straight and cold tone. It’s true that the Alduria military must protect its own people, but I think those people from the military have their own merits regarding their own worries.
However, it is concerning if I were the commander too. Why should I follow this lord which doesn’t care about the safety of my own men and people who trust me to keep them safe? It’s a hard decision, I hope my father makes the right choice, whether I agree with it or not.
“Sir, the soldiers are very vulnerable to air attacks,” the commander adds.
“That’s enough. I know the military pays you well, and the military equips its soldiers well. Now, I also know for a fact that a battalion is usually equipped with four ballistae, and you two have eight of those, now tell me why should I move the ballistae outside of the village?” My father asks.
The two soldiers walk towards the door. One of them opens the key, I immediately jump away from the door to avoid being seen as an eavesdropper by those two people. I then run back into my room so I don’t even have the chance to see those two people from the Alduria military.
I close the white wood door towards my room and sit down at my table, pretending that I am studying with the black grimoire on the table and my pen spinning on top of my fingers. I doubt this will work, my age gives me the plausible deniability that I need to have right now.
I just have a bad feeling that they somehow saw my face. The way that my father talked to them was not how one countryman speaks to another countryman. He saw those soldiers from the Alduria military as another entity. Can it be that my father plans a coup against the current king?
The heavy footsteps from the heavy leather shoes soon go away from the front of my door. Then, someone opens the door. I feel cold sweat flowing through my face. Then, a pair of hands touch my shoulder. What these hands are doing to my shoulder? It gives me a sense of panic.
“What are you doing, sis?”
I take a deep breath. It’s Rachel. She just returns from the living room.