229. Operation Name: Wildfire
“Temple of the Gods, grant us your blessing. Almighty Shield, we believe in your justice that brings peace to the world, and we confess. May your servant, who rests peacefully in your embrace, cross the halls of the Temple of the Gods and find peace under your power.”
“Temple of the Gods, grant us your blessing.”
“Look upon the souls tainted by the evil and filth of this world. Today, we mourn their deaths and pray. Grant them a place of happiness alongside the chosen saints, freeing them from the shackles of death to see you in peace.”
“May they live forever under the care of the Temple of the Gods.”
-Ding!
The bell rang, and the knights bowed their heads. The bishop of Shield sprinkled holy water on the altar where the remains were gathered and prayed. Fernandez watched the scene beside Kirhas.
The battlefield had already been cleaned up after several days. The corpses that once moved were piled up like a tower, lying on the altar. The priest took a torch from an acolyte and offered a short prayer.
The eulogy was over. Those who had risen as undead were treated as cursed minions and could not receive the burial rites of the bishop’s priests. However, at the request of Duke Carvelier, a funeral mass presided over by the priests was being held.
Those who knew this tragedy was orchestrated by the Emperor swallowed their anger as they watched, while those unaware praised the Duke’s benevolence. A politically decent start. It could use a few more spices.
Fernandez turned his horse and approached the Duke and the Prince, who were bowing their heads beside him.
* * *
“Isn’t that a bit too much?”
The Duke wore a sour expression. Fernandez, perhaps the hidden power behind the Chieftain, officially the only ‘favorite’ who could directly advise the Chieftain.
“Our priests, the priests of the Wraith Lords, and the mages have all cross-verified that they are not soldiers of the Wraith Lords. How could we manipulate that?”
“The priests of the Temple of the Gods can be persuaded. The priests of the Wraith Lords are our enemies anyway, so our claims won’t matter much. And the Imperial mage who verified them was Antaen, who is now dead.”
Fernandez spoke calmly. The Prince nodded beside him.
“Convincing the Church of the Temple of the Gods isn’t my concern. Duke, the reversal of this situation is inevitable. My father will attack Ribue no matter how things unfold.”
“Prince Robert. Even so, we don’t have enough troops to attack the Wraith Lords.”
The Duke didn’t know that Prince Robert was the leader of Iron Side. That was a secret between Robert, Fernandez, and Rene. Externally, the Prince was portrayed as a ‘righteous noble who stood against the Emperor’s tyranny.’
The envoy’s stay wouldn’t be long. And when the envoy returned to the Imperial Palace, the operation had to begin. The problem was that Ribue was a declining territory, and the other Electors wouldn’t help Ribue.
Ribue was isolated. A wasteland before the grasslands, abandoned after the western expedition. It was unclear how many Electors were aligned with the Emperor’s ambitions, but even those opposed to the Emperor wouldn’t help Ribue.
It was a matter of dividing interests. If there was an Elector actively opposing the Emperor, they would surely be a powerful Great Noble. They wouldn’t share their pie with Ribue, which couldn’t offer much assistance on the battlefield.
“Isn’t the Chieftain with us?”
“The Beastman Nobility is caught up in internal strife. The Chieftain came to Ribue to ask for help in ending the civil war. Even if two groups in need join hands, could they muster enough forces to attack the Wraith Lords and oppose the Emperor?”
That was true. The Chieftain’s forces would be heavily depleted just by ending the civil war. The west was in chaos.
“If the Emperor sees the situation in the west, he will surely send a legion. Since Duke Ribue has failed, the Emperor must send some signal. Externally, at least.”
“Externally, that’s likely. It won’t take long for the Imperial legion to turn into an attacking force against Ribue.”
If the Emperor’s scheme fails, he will expect Ribue to rebel.
In that situation, requesting a western expedition would be like throwing fish to a cat. The Emperor would gladly send troops to support the western expedition. His own army to stay even after the war.
Post-war, Ribue would be occupied by the Emperor’s forces. Meanwhile, the other Electors would fall into the Emperor’s grasp.
“The best way to expose the enemy’s weakness is to create the situation they most desire.”
Fernandez quietly looked at the Duke.
“We will divide our forces.”
“How? Our army is already insufficient.”
“If the Emperor joins the western expedition, the smaller our forces appear, the better. It will look easier to swallow. The rest of the forces will be sent to Gur.”
At his words, Robert nodded.
“When the Emperor’s core forces are concentrated in the west, the moment he is convinced of victory, Gur’s forces will occupy the Imperial Palace. The Emperor, busy with political maneuvers to win over other Electors, won’t be able to build a surveillance network over Gur. He will never suspect Gur of Trumille.”
“Assuming everything goes according to plan. Then the remaining forces, families, and people in this territory will have to face the Emperor’s army head-on. They won’t last half a day before being annihilated. Who will we leave in this zombie-infested land?”
Trusted individuals and key resources that can deceive the Emperor must remain here. They are the sacrificial lambs.
“I will.”
Fernandez looked at the Duke.
“I will stay as the representative of the Federation of Beastmen Nobles. Duke, you will stay too, won’t you?”
“…Right. Are we planning to die together? There’s no gain for you or the Beastmen Nobility. You’re not staying alone… Does this mean the Hearttaker Chieftain’s forces will remain?”
“If I proposed this plan and then said I’d escape, would you believe me? To make an Elector believe that an outsider must oppose the Emperor, I must stake my life.”
“What gain is there for you if the Emperor falls?”
“Well, Duke. Isn’t it better to have someone reasonable on the throne than a mad Emperor consumed by conquest and power?”
At those words, the Duke nodded.
“Is this the Hearttaker Chieftain’s will?”
“If that makes it more believable, then think of it that way.”
“Then it’s settled. Prince Robert, please propose the western expedition to the Emperor. The expeditionary force will be reassembled.”
The Duke smiled bitterly as he spoke. The last expeditionary force was a massive legion that concentrated the Empire’s full strength, and as its commander, he had ruled Ribue and amassed wealth and honor.
His position is like a candle in the wind. The legion dispatched by the Emperor will surely try to crush Ribue.
“It’s going to be a battle of time.”
Fernandez laughed at the prince’s words. A battle of time, huh? The western expedition will undoubtedly succeed. It’s not a war against the Sultan, but simply cleaning up the fragmented warlords of the wasteland. In fact, it’s a great opportunity. Through this expedition, the Empire will be able to extend its influence over the entire wasteland.
The 50-year war was a struggle between two monarchs vying for the wasteland, and with the end of the war, the situation became ambiguous. The Empire won’t miss the chance to easily reclaim the wasteland.
The justification is clear. The Chieftain of the wasteland, who advocates for its sovereignty, personally requested support. The Emperor will now try to make the wasteland his own domain and reduce the Federation of Beastmen Nobles to a puppet state.
Ribue, standing in the way, will inevitably be occupied by the Emperor’s legion. It’s a foregone conclusion.
Thus, it’s a battle of time. From now until the end of the western expedition, we must rally the Dukes who oppose the Emperor, gather forces in Guerue, and attack the empty Imperial Palace. Not a single moment can be wasted in this operation.
This precarious tightrope walk, where even the slightest misstep is unacceptable. A battle of time. Fernandez was familiar with such battles. Time was never on his side.
But he had never lost such a battle before. Being short on time was something he was used to.
* * *
La Merthion was a bridge connecting the eastern region of the Empire and the Dane Kingdom, a key city on the Empire’s eastern trade route, Blanchema. Blanchema, meaning “Path of Light” in the Empire’s language, was the central hub of this vast trade network. It connected the complex web of roads from the Eastern Kingdom Alliance to the Empire’s own roads.
The City of Light. Another name for La Merthion. Even in the deepest night, the lanterns brought by merchants never went out, and even in the dark dawn, the trading halls and auction houses were bustling with people.
“What a magnificent city! Look, Lindblum. Look at this fruit. It’s something you’d never see in this region!”
“Can’t we just grow it? Why not cultivate and eat it?”
“That’s disregarding the sweat and blood of farmers. Nature is meant to be as it is! How can a fruit forced to grow by a goddess and one cultivated by mortals with their sweat and blood carry the same weight?”
No matter how you think about it, marketing a watermelon as grown by a goddess would probably sell better… The woman nodded with a smile. No need to ruin the mood when she’s this excited.
“We’re not here to have fun, Freya.”
“Only a goddess can scold a goddess!”
“The only gods who can command me are those of the Temple of the Gods and Shield.”
“Lindblum! This mortal is so annoying!”
The woman, Abel, patted Freya’s chattering head. There, there, good girl. As she patted her head with that vague meaning, a familiar scene suddenly came to mind.
What is Kirhas doing now? She was a child who tried so hard to appear strong, which only made her more pitiful. And…
‘Are you well?’
It hadn’t been that long, but several months had already passed. Since they left. Even if a mid-term report had come, it should have arrived long ago, but the letter Fernandez sent was nothing more than a dry request for a meeting.
It bore his seal and his handwriting, but there was no mention of his well-being or current situation. It was a cold letter, but that only made it more like Fernandez. Still, it was hard not to feel a bit resentful.
‘That rascal.’
Fernandez requested a meeting at an auction house in La Merthion. It was strange why an auction house, but he wouldn’t have called her without a reason. She had been uneasy about sending him alone in the first place.
The auction house in La Merthion was packed with all sorts of merchants. From foodstuffs like fruits and grains to military supplies like ironware and mounts. It was a wholesale auction house where specialties from all regions were sold to other regions.
The noisy clamor filled the auction house. Freya kept grumbling and shaking her head. As they quietly observed the auction house, someone approached and stood behind them.
-Clink.
The knight who had come with them reflexively gripped the hilt of his sword. Then, a soft chuckle came from behind.
“A knight of the Dane Kingdom. A fierce warrior. Your swordsmanship is impressive, but causing a disturbance here is not something any of us would appreciate, is it?”
“Who are you?”
A man behind them casually reached out his arm. As the knight gripped his sword, a hand appeared over his shoulder, holding a small hand mirror with an emblem. A dagger, an eye, a sun, and steel.
“Iron is a symbol of trust and victory. And we are the steel forged in the deepest depths. Does that make sense now?”
“Grave Circle…!”
The knight gritted his teeth and turned around. Other knights of the kingdom might not know, but as part of the Inner Circle, he was aware of the behind-the-scenes operations the Empire’s Iron Side had conducted in the kingdom.
A group with a grudge at the national level. The knight tightened his grip on the hilt and glared at the woman smiling in front of him.
“Don’t be so angry. I’m here to apologize on behalf of those incompetent traitors.”
“So, what happened in the homeland was the work of traitors? Is that how Grave Circle cuts off its tails?”
“Well, you can think that if you want. But this isn’t the place for such discussions. How about we get to the point more quickly? No need to embarrass each other here.”
“Then why didn’t you request a meeting at a better place? Where’s Sir Albert? Why are you here instead?”
As the knight growled, the woman shrank her neck and laughed.
“Ah, the great Knight of the Round Table… That man… he’s doing well. Honestly, it’s hard to imagine him in any trouble or cornered. He’s a monster. Anyway. Other places aren’t safe. There are eyes everywhere around here.”
“…Eyes?”
“The Emperor’s spies are planted all over, knight. This place isn’t safe.”
“Then why did you insist on meeting in this city?”
“Because the Emperor guards this city, which means it’s that important.”
The woman said with a smile. Abel silently watched her. The woman tilted her head and asked.
“Don’t your companions have any questions…?”
“Another woman, huh.”
“…Huh?”
“Another. Woman. I don’t know what kind of rule it is to send a handwritten letter introducing a woman. Yet another woman.”
Abel said with a laugh. The woman felt an overwhelming pressure under that smile and took a step back. The air seemed to freeze. It wasn’t just a feeling. The knight beside her stiffened, and the noisy auction house fell silent for a moment.
It was the presence of a dragon. The Grave Circle agent frantically waved her hands.
“I-I’m just here to explain the operation. There must be some misunderstanding…”
“What misunderstanding are you talking about?”
“There are only two women near that Knight of the Round Table!”
“…Two… huh.”
The air grew colder. The knight prayed to Shield, knowing who this legendary dragon had feelings for.
“Y-yes. The Chieftain of the Beastmen Nobles and the Princess of Carvellier. There are no other women! I don’t know why I’m defending this, but we’re in the middle of a secret operation here? Let’s just keep it quiet…”
“I hear a new name.”
Abel smiled softly. Freya hiccuped at the sight. Freya took two steps away from Abel and pretended to look around the auction house.
“Let’s hear the details. Start talking.”
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