[Cosworth Yerinetta]
A bright, blood-red pavilion swallowed most of the daylight; the big entrance stood wide open and that was the only shaft of sun inside. The rest of the tent felt dim, like being in a forest. Supplies—timber, armor, barrels of wine—were piled haphazardly along the edges.
The floor was a low-grass meadow, but thick rugs had been laid over it, and I sat cross-legged on one of them. From my seated position I looked down at the men before me. My gaze dropped not because I had leaned forward, but because the others had lowered their faces much closer to the ground.
Estana—my younger brother—was on one knee. Alongside him, Commander Herenik had sunk forward as well, hands and forearms pressed flat to the earth in the old Yerinetta gesture. It was that ancient courtly posture: either the utmost of respect or the utmost of apology.
Which of those two were they trying to show now? That was not easy to tell.
“…Report in more detail,” I said, keeping my voice even. Herenik flinched; Estana slowly raised his face. He looked exhausted—no wonder, if the battle had been so fierce—but there was something unreadable about him, even being my brother.
Estana let out a thin breath, steadied himself, and began.
“…It may sound like what we reported earlier, but I will speak it again. Fort Werner has fallen. We attempted to retake it at once, but were routed. In the two engagements we inflicted losses on the Scuderia forces, but our casualties are higher. The cause of our defeat was our failure to expect such a large army to cross the Wolfsburg range. Also, the enemy erected a fortification between the strategically advantageous pass and Fort Werner—”
He outlined the exact points in the report without adding much else. Was he waiting for my response, or did he mean that there was nothing more to add? Estana fell silent and looked up at me.
I replayed his words in my head, trying to piece the situation together. It wasn’t simple. Even the defenses Estana had been entrusted with baffled me. My other brothers, who’d launched simultaneous assaults on three targets with supposed confidence, had all failed. The descriptions arriving at my ears were almost impossible to believe.
We’d received full reports, but parts of it still made no sense.
My temples started to throb. I tilted my head and asked, “Right after crossing the Wolfsburg range, Fort Werner sits directly ahead. That means attackers would have to storm the fort while large magical beasts could strike them from behind. Building a fort in such a place would be the obvious move. I thought that would be difficult—have I misjudged the terrain?”
Estana furrowed his brow and considered, then answered.
“I thought so too. But the fort was built. Probably earth magic. After a child led a few knights forward and uttered what looked like a declaration, a massive wall rose up immediately. We struck it with the black sphere to try to change the situation, but even when we shattered the wall it was instantly rebuilt. We could not respond quickly enough. Their emergency fortress construction—this field castle—was completed in the span of moments. It’s a clear threat. Frankly, it might be more dangerous than artillery.”
That was the limit of Estana’s report. I let out a sigh and turned my gaze to Herenik.
“…I understand what happened at Werner, though I’m not satisfied. You’ve heard the other battle reports too, yes? Reports of giant crossbows with terrifying range, and of knights who seem impossible to kill… all of it reaches me and sounds unbelievable.”
“That refers to the strange force reported in Count Ferdinand’s lands,” Herenik said, lowering his head as if weighing each word. “They did not appear at Fort Werner, so the earlier theory that Scuderia’s main force was responsible is less likely… Could it be assistance from another great power on the central continent?”
I nodded at his line of thought, then shared my own reasoning.
“That’s possible, but unlikely. The Solstice Empire is the mightiest nation on the central continent. Perhaps weapons developed elsewhere have spread, but even then, I doubt anything could surpass Solstices’ artillery. Besides, our nation controls the sea routes to the central continent—if another power had opened relations, we would have known.”
Estana blew out a troubled breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“But that doesn’t explain why Scuderia has undergone such sudden technological innovation,” he said.
Herenik agreed, eyes thoughtful. “Indeed. Even if they developed new arms in recent years, the quantity is too great. We would have had some intelligence before we attacked. After all, Scuderia has been at war frequently; rumors travel.”
Istana gave a small, reluctant nod. The theory that their nation had developed the weapons internally was the more plausible one, but endless argument wouldn’t change the reality.
What mattered now was victory. If we only defended successfully while relying on Solstice' power, that wouldn’t be enough. With outside backing, Yerinetta must become the dominant power on this continent.
If we failed to grow, we would only be exploited—left alive by a stronger nation and kept as a vassal. That was not a future any of us wanted.
“—You understand, there is no retreat now,” I said. “If we lose disgracefully to Scuderia, Solstice will abandon us and side with Scuderia. To them, having an allied power dominate this continent is what matters.”
At my blunt words, the two men’s faces tightened.
“What matters is victory—nothing else. Lay out every piece of intelligence, even the vague bits. With maximum vigilance, we will strike Scuderia a blow.”
Their resolve hardened around me like steel. Good. We needed that. Victory was all that would save us from becoming pawns.
No comments:
Post a Comment