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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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“Braam has declared war on the Kingdom of Robros!”
Army heralds rode their horses through the streets of Kara, spreading the joyful news. Since the Kingdom of Robros had begun a full-scale invasion of the Great Desert, Braam could not stand idly by and had now declared war.
Braam alone commanded six thousand troops. Together with its allied forces numbering twenty-two thousand, it could mobilize a total of twenty-eight thousand soldiers, making it a powerful city-state.
Though Kara and Braam had once been enemies, they were now comrades sharing the same boat. For the citizens of Kara, this was nothing but favorable news—a message of hope.
“Brother, Braam has declared war on the Kingdom of Robros.”
My sister Armida returned from outside with the news of the situation. From her slightly excited tone, it seemed she too had been swayed by the military propaganda of Kara.
“Yeah.”
“But weren’t Braam and the Kingdom of Robros on the same side?”
“Yeah, they were.”
“Then why are they fighting each other?”
“Because Braam isn’t stupid. If they kept holding hands in this situation, it’d be admitting they’re suckers.”
The reason Braam had once joined hands with the Kingdom of Robros was to attack Kara with their support. Only by subjugating Kara could their long-cherished dream of building a Great Desert Kingdom come true.
So the two had prepared to strike Kara together, and Robros had even sent a force of one hundred fifty thousand to help. If it had been a mere twenty thousand, they could have been welcomed as comrades, but an outright force of one hundred fifty thousand was another story entirely—it was an obvious ploy.
Honestly, why would one hundred fifty thousand soldiers be needed to attack Kara, whose own forces numbered only four thousand? Clearly, Robros intended to devour the entire Great Desert.
Moreover, the Kingdom of Robros had been boasting to the outside world that its military strength reached one million. That was no different from a threat aimed at the entire desert.
“Still, it’s a relief for Kara, isn’t it? If we join hands with Braam, we might actually stand a chance.”
That was certainly true, if the strength could be united in earnest. Braam and its allied forces numbered twenty-eight thousand. Kara could muster eleven thousand—its own four thousand troops plus seven thousand from its allies.
Together, that made around forty thousand troops.
And most of the Shika tribe’s soldiers were either cavalry or camel riders.
Considering that cavalry and camel riders were each treated as the combat equivalent of ten infantrymen, this forty-thousand-strong force could, by simple calculation, be said to equal an army of four hundred thousand infantry. Even though the Kingdom of Robros possessed formidable mana knights, with the advantages of terrain and defensive strongholds, it was definitely a fightable war.
“Of course, that’s if all forty thousand actually stayed intact. But at best, it’ll be less than fifteen thousand.”
“Why?”
“That’s how Duke Bastain always plays. When he goes to war, he first cuts off the enemy’s arms and legs before striking. Soon, most of Braam’s allies will side with Robros instead.”
“Come on~. But they’re all Shika tribe, aren’t they? You could call them blood brothers. Would they really side with the invaders?”
“The closer the kin, the more bitter the grudge. Think how much harassment they must’ve endured living next to each other. Of course they resent each other. And don’t be fooled by the ‘same Shika tribe’ talk. To them, it’s just Braam folk and Kara folk—enemies with the same skin color, nothing more.”
The Great Desert had long been divided. Just as Kara and Braam had been at odds, so too had neighboring powers fought among themselves. Merchant clans, nomadic clans, farming clans—each had spilled blood for their own interests.
And this division had lasted for thousands of years. Old grudges like that don’t wash away easily.
Unlike Kara, Braam’s allied forces were bound not as comrades, but more as subordinates. With Robros wooing them with lavish gifts, it was difficult for such alliances to hold.
I stood up.
“By the way, sister. Where’s Shura? Didn’t she go out with you earlier?”
“Oh, Shura? She went along with the Lord’s procession.”
I frowned.
“Hm?”
“Lately the Lord of Kara has often gone out to win the people’s hearts. They happened to meet on the street, and the Lord invited Shura to his house. They seem to be on friendly terms.”
I scowled and headed toward the door.
“Sister, I’m going out.”
“Where?”
“To bring Shura back.”
“Why go meet her? She’ll come home on her own later.”
“There’s something I need to take care of. I’ll be back.”
“All right. Don’t be long.”
I stepped out at once.
Lately Shura had been causing trouble. I had warned her not to befriend the wrong sort of people, but she hadn’t listened. That’s the problem—when a quiet child goes astray, it’s all the more frightening.
It seemed today I’d have to sit her on my lap and give her a good spanking.
“This way, please.”
Escorted by a guard, I entered the palace. The ease with which I was granted passage made me feel as if I’d been given a free-entry pass to the Lord’s residence.
Dangerous sign. Hospitality always comes with a price. I worried what demands Padilla might make under the guise of this courtesy.
“If you wait here, the Lord will arrive shortly.”
Good. Since Padilla was coming, I might as well confront her properly today.
“All right.”
I sat down at a chair before the reception table, waiting for Shura.
While I waited, I heard maids passing by outside, laughing and chatting cheerfully. They seemed excited at the news of an alliance with Braam.
Hope—fine. Who knew how long it would last, but enjoying today wasn’t a bad thing.
After a while, Padilla arrived with Shura in tow.
“My lord, welcome. I’ve been wanting to see you.”
I frowned at her greeting. She was now openly calling me ‘Lord.’
“Come, sit down.”
Padilla held Shura’s hand tightly and sat before me, her face bright as she spoke.
“My lord, have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“That we’ve formed an alliance with Braam.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Now we finally have a chance of victory. No—we will surely drive back the Robros army.”
I kept my face indifferent. Normally I would have retorted, “You have no chance, only ruin awaits you,” but seeing Padilla’s bright expression, I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
She had shown me kindness in this age of ruin. My heart softened; I couldn’t be cruel.
“And so?”
“Well… so, what I wanted to say was… On the day of our victory, would you honor my invitation?”
Her cheeks flushed as she averted her gaze. Clearly, it had taken courage to say those words, though I couldn’t imagine why.
“If you win, sure, why not.”
At that moment, the reception room door burst open, and Razal hurried in.
“My Lord, a grave matter!”
“Commander! How dare you make such a commotion before a guest?”
Padilla’s voice thundered through the room, but Razal pressed on urgently.
“Lord Ealsar has accepted the title of viscount and sworn fealty to the King of Robros.”
So it had begun.
Ealsar commanded three thousand troops and was the second most powerful force of the western grasslands. Located on the southern coast, it had long pursued an independent course outside the Great Desert’s influence. But its submission spelled a dire crisis for the desert factions resisting Robros.
Now Braam would be attacked from both sides.
“Why would Lord Ealsar do such a thing?”
“We don’t know for certain, but it seems connected to Robros lifting all restrictions on sea trade with Ealsar.”
Ealsar’s main products were farm goods and salted seafood. Unrestricted imports of such goods could threaten the profits of Robros’s southern nobles, who relied on agriculture and fisheries. Thus trade had always been tightly restricted.
Most likely Duke Bastain had won Ealsar’s favor by removing those restrictions.
“Duke Bastain… snatched up Ealsar for free.”
Indeed, lifting trade limits was a natural benefit once Ealsar defected to Robros. Now that they were one nation, there was no reason to restrict trade.
The duke had surely offered tariff exemptions as well.
Padilla paled, rising to her feet.
“M-Master… Let’s continue this conversation later.”
“Fine. You seem busy. Go on.”
As Padilla hurried off, I fixed my gaze on Shura.
“You saw that?”
“Yes…”
“When you stay close to the wrong people, you get dragged down with them. I’ve told you over and over—Kara cannot be saved.”
“But Master, you once said it was possible!”
“Of course there are ways. The problem is, they’re impossible to carry out. If my sister Armida alone stepped forward, Kara could be saved. With the worldwide church pressuring Robros, it’d be over. But she can’t, because of the rules of Chronos, the sky-city—that Valkyries must not interfere in worldly affairs.”
“Well, that’s true, but still…”
“The same applies here in Kara. They have more than enough ability to defend themselves, but they don’t. Because of social rules.”
Kara’s population was two hundred forty thousand. If you added in the slaves and dependents not counted in the census, the number was even greater.
Meanwhile, Robros’s army numbered one hundred fifty thousand, but not all could be used against Kara. First, supply lines through the cursed trade route made logistics difficult. Second, they had to garrison troops in the rear. At most, only fifty thousand could be sent to attack Kara.
That many could be repelled if Kara’s citizens all united in a total war effort.
But social rules prevented it. Warfare was the duty of noble warriors; the common folk were merely to be ruled.
If commoners joined the fight, they would then have to be granted rights. Military power meant political power.
And conversely, why should I risk my life helping Kara? The ruling class clung to their privileges, walking the path of ruin. Why should I save them? Absurd.
In the Age of Ruin, it hadn’t been like this. Back then, even as a grand noble, I had fought alongside slave soldiers as equals. We ate together, slept together, crossed death’s threshold together.
That was why we were the strongest in the world.
“Well…”
“Kara isn’t perishing because we turn our backs. It’s perishing because of the laws and morals it created for itself. So leave it.”
I rose and grabbed Shura’s wrist, pulling her along.
“Master?”
“Hurry and follow.”
“Please, just listen to me.”
“Enough. We’ll talk at home. Move.”
Though I was stern, Shura resisted firmly.
“Then before we leave, please, let’s stop by one place.”
“Where?”
“The place that explains how Lady Padilla instantly recognized you, even with your disguise.”
That did spark my interest. True—I had wondered how Padilla, who had only seen me once as a child, could recognize me at a glance now, even with my face half hidden.
After some hesitation, I nodded.
“Fine. Lead the way.”
Shura guided me to a certain room. Two maids were cleaning in the hallway outside, but when they saw her, they bowed politely and stepped aside.
“Please, come in.”
As Shura opened the door, I saw a small but ornate room, sunlight softly spilling in.
At that moment, my body froze like ice.
The walls were covered with portraits of a man—me.
“What are these portraits?”
“They’re Lady Padilla’s collection. She commissioned them from painters in the Karl domain who had painted you.”
The portraits of me spanned the years. One showed me in childhood, standing proudly. Another in school uniform. Another, in dignified pose, just after graduating from the Imperial Noble Academy. Most of the portraits that hung in the Karl estate were here too.
There was even a recent one—me leaning against a tree, half-mask lifted. From the desert-style brushwork, it was clear a local Kara painter had done it.
After taking them all in, I looked sideways at Shura.
“Why would Padilla collect my portraits?”
“Because she likes you, Master.”
I blinked, not understanding.
“No way…”
“It’s true. Lady Padilla even said she would confess to you after this war is over.”
I almost shouted.
“No, that’s impossible! Padilla and I only met once, for a single day in childhood!”
“That single day was more precious to her than any other.”
“Couldn’t this be a trick to deceive us? Con artists go to great lengths like this.”
“Master!”
Even with Shura’s repeated insistence, I still couldn’t believe it. The only person who had ever truly loved me was my late mother. Sure, in this life Shura liked me too, but that was just a natural tendency of female elves—not something I gave special meaning to.
“Does she really… like me?”
But thinking carefully about Padilla’s actions in both my past and present lives, I couldn’t say it was impossible. She had saved me more than once, and when faced with death, she had come to no one else’s arms but mine. Even now—this room was proof enough.
“Or is it an obsession?”
“Master!”
Gods, this was embarrassing. It felt good, but I didn’t know where to put myself. I’d never experienced anything like it. I couldn’t adapt.
“…Fine then. If it comes to it, I’ll at least save a few of the people Padilla cares for.”
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