Chapter 34
Dawn rose over a cold landscape carpeted with corpses.
Hundreds of fallen Imperial Knights formed a solid line where Ray had chosen to take their stand. All along that bloody front were the thousands of Demihumans that had cast themselves at the battalion like waves crashing against the cliffs of the Golden Strand.
Beyond those grisly details, the sheer mundanity of the morning could scarcely be believed. Birds filled the air with their cheerful calls and the sun’s cold light glistened off of blood and dew alike. It was as if the world was telling them that the struggles of the night were nothing of note; nothing that deserved fanfare or mourning.
Ray’s men stood around staring blankly at the night’s handiwork. Officers stared at their shattered companies and survivors of the companies stared at their fallen officers. The frenzy of looting that always came over them after the battles of the battalion now seemed the last thing on anyone’s mind. Of the seven hundred soldiers committed to the fight, less than half remained.
Because their forces had been consolidated into specialised contingents, the losses were roughly uniform across all companies. Many of their Sergeants had been slain as they were called on time and again to bolster faltering ranks. A third of the Dragoons and their Hippogriffs had fallen in similar efforts where the officers on the ground had been spent. The only company Captains who had survived were Seris and Hawke.
Below the outcropping, Ray and his remaining officers gathered around Lady Zahradnik as she worked to carefully dress the giant corpse of the Monster that had interjected itself into the battle with its pack. Even after a pitched battle that culminated in the slaying of what might count as a legendary foe, she looked none the worse for wear.
Most of her Demihuman company made their way over the landscape, scavenging what they could from their fallen enemies. Nearby, the Trolls watched their ‘chief’ with looks of anticipation.
“Why are they looking at you like that, my lady?” Ray frowned.
“There are certain tribal customs that appear to be common to the region, Your Excellency,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “One of which is a belief that the strong will confer their strength upon those who consume them.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’re a highly appetising individual?”
“Of course.”
Of course.
Even the idea of being eaten didn’t seem to bother her. Ray frowned down at a hastily jotted-down list of reports. While they had just gone through a harsh battle, they were still in hostile territory and time waited for no man.
“Three hundred and eighty-two dead,” he muttered. “Two-thirds of the survivors combat ineffective until our mana catches up. Bennet, make sure our potions and mana go towards crippling injuries before they become permanent. After that, get back to half mana. We’ll continue healing once our reserves are built up.”
“Yes, sir,” Bennet rose from where he was tending to a wounded man nearby. “I’ll make extra sure that the others understand.”
The senior Cleric walked off to inform the battalion’s healers. General Ray cast his gaze over the grisly aftermath of the battle.
“You didn’t mention how your company did, my lady.”
The Baroness’ lips twitched at the question. Her reply was uncharacteristically sheepish.
“That’s, erm…I believe I went from three hundred to nine.”
“Nine?” General Ray frowned.
“Nine hundred.”
Ray and his Captains cast uncomprehending stares at her. In what world did one triple their forces after fighting a pitched battle with dire odds?
Lady Zahradnik didn’t look up at them as she continued her methodical work.
“Goblins are very adaptable,” she said. “I suppose in your terms they saw that their interests were better served under me, so several dozen small tribes switched sides as we fought our way through. I was hoping for some Hobgoblins, but they all mysteriously died before I could ask.”
“Never mind recruiting Hobgoblins,” General Ray said, “I’m beginning to wonder if those jokes about you being a Hobgoblin yourself are true.”
“I’m fairly certain that the Temples of the Six have over five centuries of my lineage on record,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “Besides, being a Hobgoblin is not required to achieve this. Understanding the nature of the races that you interact with can lead to surprisingly elegant solutions.”
“I don’t suppose you could gather a Legion’s worth of Demihumans while we’re up here?”
“I suppose I could,” the Baroness replied, “but what I cannot do is feed a Legion’s worth of Demihumans. Not without eating our way all over the place. What I have right now should be close to the limit of what our movements can support in this environment.”
“Then we shouldn’t linger here,” Ray muttered. "The sooner we withdraw, the sooner we can get back to finishing our original objectives in the valley.”
Though their losses were severe, not finishing their work would squander their efforts thus far.
“You sure about that, sir?” Captain Hawke asked, “The men are spent. They’re gonna be sick of fighting for a while. And the losses…at least give them some time to grieve–”
“Grieve?” Ray furrowed his brow, “What reason have you to grieve?”
Captain Hawke lowered his fistful of reports, sending an incredulous gaze at General Ray.
“They were our men, sir – our comrades! We fought and bled together on the line. It could have been any one of us that died instead of them! It’s natural to mourn them, yeah?”
Ray shared a long look with Lady Zahradnik. If there was one element of the Empire’s martial tradition that his men could do with, it was the sense of grim purpose and stoic resolve of the martial nobility.
“You’re from a town outside of Arwintar, aren’t you, Hawke?”
“Yeah.”
“And you, Seris – you’re from Nixhaven?”
“That's right, sir.”
“Then listen up and listen well: that isn’t how it works around here.”
Looks of confusion fell over the two Captains. Ray scratched his temple.
“The men that lost their lives today didn’t have them stolen,” he told them. “They weren’t innocents murdered in an alley or killed in a raid. They didn’t die of starvation or disease while living in the squalor of the cities. These men offered their lives in exchange for a chance to stand and challenge fate. To win a better future for themselves and the Empire. They didn’t die in some meaningless, stupid way. I made sure of that.
“You and I and everyone who stood and fought with these men know exactly what they were here for. Only we know what it’s like to be out here because their experiences are ours too. The Temples and all the others back in the Empire who would speak as if some great tragedy had befallen these men are only offering lip service, saying what they think others want to hear. They don’t understand who and what we are. They cannot. They only see conquering heroes if we succeed and ‘tragedy’ if we don’t…and they’ll only remember for as long as it hurts or helps them in some way.”
Ray scanned the silent battlefield. His men had stopped what they were doing, their attention focused on him as he spoke.
“Those who brandish their blades may be struck down in return. Everything that happens in this ‘place’ is a realm where only warriors tread. There is not just the camaraderie forged out of your shared struggles, but also the results rendered by your shared ambitions – for good or ill. That is why we do not mourn with selfish feelings of grief. To believe that they didn’t know what they were getting into; to think that there might be something to avenge or hate your foes over when we are the aggressors: these thoughts are irrational and only feed irrational emotions. We are soldiers who have purposely chosen to advance with deadly purpose to make gains for the Empire, earning honour and glory in exchange for our service. Respect and remember them for their resolve, but do not mourn them nonsensically.”
His words rolled out through the trees and dissipated into the morning mist. Captain Seris looked up from where he was staring at the mossy stones at their feet.
“…is that how you feel too, my lady?”
“Martial obligations do not exist for the Empire’s Nobles,” Lady Zahradnik replied, “but they do exist for me. It is a bit different, but the general sentiment is the same. My authority is derived from duty – including one to put my life on the line when it is called for. When it comes to those who fell fulfilling their obligations, I do not mourn in a way that most would consider ‘normal’. Considering your obligations as soldiers of the Sixth Legion, I do not disagree with General Ray’s words to you.
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“Your Commander has shared something even more important than that, however. Something that both he and I and many others had to learn the hard way. The only people who can fully appreciate the lives of warriors are warriors themselves. Heartfelt or otherwise, any empathy that others express for you is based on their own. Many frustrations come with this reality: your experiences may be discounted; you may feel underappreciated or be subjected to all manner of misapprehensions. But it is not something to scorn others over…they are simply incapable of fully relating. All we can do is fight to ensure that we receive our due recognition and prepare those who follow in our path for that same reality.”
Around them, the men started to move. Some helped the Clerics as they commended the fallen to the gods. Others readied a place to store the dead and their equipment for future recovery. After an hour, Bennet returned from his rounds, casting a critical eye over the thousands of slain Demihumans nearby.
“General,” he said, “Permission to–”
“I swear, Bennet,” Ray narrowed his eyes, “if you tell me that you want to purify the area, I’m going to strangle you.”
“It’s a lot of death, sir.”
“It’s a lot of work is what it is. We can’t afford to linger here – I don’t want something even more absurd coming around and killing the rest of us off. Besides, this isn’t the last that this place has seen of the Empire.”
“On that note,” Lady Zahradnik said, “how are the other divisions progressing, Your Excellency?”
He turned his attention from the Baroness, who had finished neatly packing away the remains of not only the Pack Lord but the corpses of its pack.
“The First, Second and Third Divisions are still fighting in the northern passes. The Fourth and Fifth are out of the passes and moving to hit those passes from behind.”
“What happens after that?”
“After that…I suspect that General Gregan will become conservative again. Once he finishes fighting and receives our reports in detail, he’ll likely call a general halt to operations to digest and rethink how we approach expansion into deep wilderness areas. We have to get as far as we can while we have a chance. The battalion still has three fresh companies that didn’t get to join this fight, so we should be able to finish our advance to the pass before then. It’s only a day from where we left off, anyway.”
Once the men were fit to move, Ray ordered a withdrawal to the central ridge of the plateau. They set up camp around noon and set off the following morning. They picked up the two companies in the outposts on the way back over the next two days and returned to their valley base camp on the third day. The fourth day saw them resuming their march south with the three untouched companies and the men in general had appeared to have returned to their general good spirits.
“Say,” one of Lady Zahradnik’s men said. “Don’t you think that our fight was just like the battle in the second volume of Dreams of Red? We were massively outnumbered and it had Hobgoblins and everything.”
“Half of Ludwig’s battalion wasn’t Demihumans,” another noted.
“A giant six-legged tentacle cat didn’t attack his battalion, either,” a third added.
“Still gonna be one hell of a story to share,” one of them grinned. “Might have to tone it down a bit or no one’s gonna believe it.”
That much was probably true. It was a tale that grew more fantastic with every detail – one would be accused of being drunk before having had a single drop.
“Does your experience make Dreams of Red better, or worse?” Lady Zahradnik asked.
“Better for sure,” the first man replied. “It just seems that much closer, y’know? Some people’ve complained that it ain’t realistic, but we know now that things like what goes on in the story really can happen.”
“In that case,” the Baroness said, “what about accomplishing things the way that Rinne does?”
The men within earshot exchanged looks. Ray faced away from the discussion with a frown: just because the story seemed more real to the men didn’t mean that the most unrealistic character in the cast was suddenly relevant to them. Though Lady Zahradnik had given Ray much to think about when it came to how the foreign elements that they encountered might be approached and utilised, he was still fairly certain that the central bureaucracy would offer stiff resistance if it also meant an effective reduction in the territory that they could develop for taxable industries.
“We did have Ough ‘n all them join us,” the man admitted, “but that was because you bested their boss. If Ludwig did it, I’d have no problem belivin’ it. Rinne though…I don’t think anyone like that can exist.”
The terrain altered drastically over the course of the day as the battalion made its way towards the target site of their next outpost. They reached the junction where they were originally supposed to meet the forces coming down from the Katze Marches, which stood at the mouth of a mist-covered valley that stretched off into the east. Rising through the mist was a forest of sandstone pillars over a thousand metres high.
Ray’s battalion gaped at the exotic landscape, but he could only see a strategic and tactical nightmare.
“Well,” Ray said, “this might require a drastic shift in our approach.”
As they gathered before the mouth of the valley, they started to catch glimpses of its occupants. Hundreds of winged shadows flew between what seemed like thousands of sandstone spires with dwellings built atop their pinnacles and the heads of their scarps. Each shadow was a Wyvern – a smaller relative of Dragons. Adult Wyverns had wingspans at least seven metres wide and Ray spotted several larger individuals amongst the ones flying ahead of them.
“I hope you can hit all those, Destin,” one of the men nearby breathed.
“What!” The Ranger squawked, “My bow won’t even reach them…they’ll just drop rocks on us until we’re done. The Dragoons need to–”
“We have four Hippogriffs. They’re not fighting hundreds of Wyverns.”
The men of the battalion shifted uncomfortably as they realised how hopeless their prospects were. Ray recalled the Wyvern flights that had been watching them fight their way across the wilderness for the past two weeks. His battalion probably hadn’t made the best of impressions.
“So, uh…do we have any kind of plan if they attack us?” Someone asked.
“Maybe Lady Zahradnik can do something.”
“Unfortunately, I didn’t bring my Dragon with me. She’s not anywhere nearby, either.”
They turned their stares at the Baroness. She had a Dragon? With everything that had happened, Ray doubted that anyone would question the claim.
Lady Zahradnik’s gaze flickered back and forth between them.
“Sorry?” she said.
As they stood about at a loss, a pair of dark figures flew towards them, shrouded by the mist. A sense of foreboding rose as they loomed closer. Ray’s eyes widened in shock when their forms resolved into something recognisable.
“Woah, wait a minute!” A Cleric cried, “We didn’t ask for this! Why are there Undead here?”
The men of the battalion backed their horses away as two Dragon-like forms closed on their position. It took a moment for Ray’s mind to unfreeze.
Skeletal Dragons…what’s going on here?
Though they appeared imposing, Skeletal Dragons were weaker than the Wyverns in the valley ahead. As they came within a few hundred metres, however, Ray’s alarm rose again as he spotted a robe-clad figure on each. Baleful crimson gazes scanned the ranks of the company.
“Elder Liches…riding Skeletal Dragons! Did the Undead of Katze spread?”
『Shut up, you idiots. Katze has been claimed by the Sorcerous Kingdom.』
Ray snapped the men out of their mounting panic. Several dozen metres away, the Skeletal Dragons landed. A pair of women looked out at them from behind the Elder Liches before dismounting to alight on the stones of the pass. Unfiltered murmurs of admiration rose from the men, the appearances of the approaching women overriding their dread and confusion.
The first had a head of shoulder-length blonde hair which framed a petite face with an imperial aristocrat’s features. Eyes of blue topaz glimmered with mischievous light as they came towards them. The second…was probably too dangerous to let close to the men. Sensuous femininity exuded from every feature and loose waves of burnished gold flowed over shoulders draped in a light dress shrouding a perilously seductive figure.
The two stopped a handful of metres away.
“Boo?” The first woman said.
“Wagner,” Lady Zahradnik frowned.
“What?” The woman frowned back, “You’re the one that’s late. Do you know how long we’ve been waiting around while you’ve been enjoying yourself with all these men?”
“There was an unexpected detour,” the Baroness replied. “How long did it take you?”
“Us? Uh…two days? Gagnier just did her thing and they were doomed. Ow.”
Ray blinked. Did the woman with the long blonde hair just hit her companion on the arm? It had happened so quickly that it might have been his imagination.
“Well, sorry for being late,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “All I can do is stab things and that takes time.”
Ray dismounted from his warhorse, walking up behind the Baroness.
“You appear to know these women, Lady Zahradnik.”
“Ah, apologies for the late introduction, Your Excellency,” Lady Zahradnik turned to gracefully sweep out her arm. “This is Countess Liane Loretta Dale Wagner.”
“Heya!” The Countess grinned.
“…and this is Baroness Florine Kadia Dale Gagnier.”
“Hello,” the Baroness smiled shyly.
Wistful sighs rose at Baroness Gagnier’s demure greeting. Countess Wagner frowned.
“Like myself,” Lady Zahradnik continued, “They are vassals of Lady Shalltear Bloodfallen, who serves as the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Minister of Transportation.”
A Countess and a Baroness out in the middle of nowhere. Did Nobles of the Sorcerous Kingdom just pop up wherever they wanted to?
“Lady Wagner; Lady Gagnier,” Lady Zahradnik said, “this is General Ray of the Sixth Legion.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” General Ray bowed politely, “Countess Wagner; Baroness Gagnier. You must forgive my confusion over your presence here…”
“We dropped by to see some of our new neighbours,” Lady Wagner said.
“New neighbours, my lady?”
Countess Wagner placed her left hand on her waist, turning slightly to look behind her at the misty valley.
“The Confederation of the Sandstone Forest,” she said. “You might know them as the Wyvern Rider Tribes. For the time being, we’ve started with a bit of trade through Katze but I’m sure we’ll develop a wonderful relationship over the years to come.”
It took all of two seconds for Ray’s expression to portray his realisation of what that meant. His gaze went from Countess Wagner to Baroness Gagnier, then to Baroness Zahradnik.
“Does this mean what I think it means, Lady Zahradnik?”
“I can only speculate as to what you’re thinking,” Lady Zahradnik replied, “but Countess Wagner’s statement means that this tribal confederation has received official recognition as a political and economic body by the Sorcerous Kingdom. The Baharuth Empire is but one of countless actors in the world, Your Excellency. As a General of an expeditionary army, it is something that you should always keep in mind.”