——Before the invasion of Baim, with nearly three hundred thousand personnel mobilized, the key figures had gathered for a meeting.
The attendees included feudal lords and nobles from baron-level houses and above, generals and knight-commanders dispatched from Central, and Bread, a member of Ceres's personal guard.
And as expected, the discussion at the meeting centered on Redant Fortress. Without breaking through here, the march alone would result in mounting casualties. Rather than sending in half-measures and taking losses, most of those present wanted to smash through the fortress and press on all the way to Baim.
Broa, who would be leading five thousand troops, was also turning various thoughts over in his mind about the upcoming invasion of Baim as he listened to the proceedings.
(Well, most of the key figures here are the type who worship Lady Ceres, and the most troublesome one is probably the captain of her personal guard.)
The personal guard. That was simply what Ceres had named the group she casually assembled of people who admired her in Central. They didn't have any particular duties—they were just people who stayed by Ceres's side. They didn't measure up to the handsome men Ceres kept around, but they were a group she'd collected because they were good-looking.
Among them, Bread had taken on a role akin to captain of the personal guard, thanks to his record of accomplishments.
He had participated in suppressing several internal rebellions and had earned merit, so there were no complaints. Well, even if there were, nobody would say anything. That was because Ceres had made the decision.
However, this same Bread was now leading a force of thirty thousand to participate in the invasion of Baim. The considerable power—the backing of Ceres's personal guard—was significant in the current Banseim.
Broa was growing exasperated with Bread, who kept offering more opinions than necessary during the meeting.
"I believe the best strategy here would be to lead a detachment force over the mountains and circle around behind for a pincer attack."
If a pincer attack were feasible, someone would have suggested it from the start.
(That's why we're saying we should assault it head-on. Even if we did cross the mountains, who knows how many casualties we'd take... and how long does he think it would take?)
He had little experience leading troops, and Bread was the type who always pushed to the front. It would have been a blessing if he had the ability to match, but unfortunately, Bread lacked exactly that kind of capability—that was the problem.
The other generals, knight-commanders, and lords listened to Bread's suggestion and—
"A splendid idea. However, we don't have the equipment to cross the mountains. Even if we volunteered, it wouldn't be possible."
"I'm in the same position. I wonder how many troops actually have the training level to pull off something like that? The elite forces from Central really are something else, aren't they?"
"In that case, Lord Bread, why don't you cross the mountains and circle around to the back of the fortress? We'll proceed with the original plan and assault the fortress from the front."
Brushed off so casually, Bread changed his expression upon hearing these remarks. He glared at those around him.
"(With these numbers, we'd win easily just charging straight in. Then again, Lord Bread does have a fondness for clever strategies. It's hard for a small force to overcome a larger one, but still...)"
Fundamentally, battles are won by numbers. There were occasionally those who could overturn numerical superiority, but according to Broa, such individuals tended to be vulnerable to flanking maneuvers — because their strength often led to overconfidence.
Bread slammed his hand on the table, drawing everyone's attention.
"Fine. I'll take the elite forces from Central and circle around to the rear of the fortress. Feel free to keep battering yourselves against the front while taking casualties!"
Broa watched Bread, stroking his chin.
"(I heard he earned credit for the Griffon subjugation, but was that because the commander was talented? The commander was apparently someone named Norma, but... from what I've heard, she's not exactly top-notch. It must be House Walt's involvement after all.)"
The unit that had accomplished the great feat of subduing the Griffon. That had caused the Royal Palace to panic for a time.
Broa still remembered those days, and since Bread had caught his attention, he'd had him thoroughly investigated. But for someone with that kind of achievement, he seemed remarkably lacking in ability.
"(He's not particularly distinguished in martial prowess either. Well, on paper he's a reasonably capable knight, but...)"
Bread's reputation had risen because Laiel and the others had ceded their achievements to him, and Ceres had delivered the finishing blow to a knight she'd nearly defeated already.
"(More troublesome than I expected.)"
With those thoughts, Broa continued listening to the meeting—.
—Redant Fortress.
There, adventurers and Baim soldiers had gathered — along with residents from areas Baim had never previously reached, whom they'd solicited as volunteer soldiers — totaling over fifty thousand troops.
The reinforced fortress had reduced its walls from three to two compared to before. However, preparations had progressed far beyond the previous state, and both its durability and functionality had been substantially upgraded.
Maintaining fifty thousand troops was undoubtedly difficult, but for a temporary period, it was entirely feasible.
And it appeared that the Baim side was feeling reassured by the fortress and their numbers.
"The fortress is stronger than before, and we have more soldiers. Last time we repelled a Monster army even larger than Banseim's forces. We'll win this time too."
"The frustrating part is that last time the situation was so dire that even if we win now, we won't get much recognition, right?"
"Reinforcements are coming from the cities. We just drive Banseim back here and it's over. I wish they'd redirect more combat power from the cities to our side."
The volunteer soldiers wore gear prepared by Baim's craftsmen. However, depending on the craftsman or shop, their attire was inconsistent, and their weapons were not uniformly equipped.
The overall impression was of a gathering of mercenaries.
Rauno, who had infiltrated the fortress's interior wearing its own equipment, watched this scene. The security was far too lax, and the soldiers lacked tension and cohesion, allowing him to slip inside without difficulty.
Sitting atop a wooden crate and drinking with unfamiliar-faced soldiers, he gathered information.
"Oh, so intel on Banseim is coming in?"
When Rauno looked surprised, one of the soldiers, flushed from drink, mocked him.
"Don't you even know that? They've got mercenary bands over there. Acquaintances, or people grateful to Baim, feed info back to us. Banseim's army? They'll turn tail and run at the Miracle of Redant Fortress!"
The Miracle of Redant Fortress—that was the heroic tale spread by the Bards, recounting how Laiel annihilated an army of hundreds of thousands of Monsters.
Rauno glanced around subtly, taking in the movements of his surroundings as he sipped his drink.
(...They're dug in deeper than expected. We might get overrun sooner than planned. Those Banseim fools—dragging a massive army around yet still not forgetting this kind of groundwork. Impressive, in its own way.)
Rauno had gathered intelligence focusing on northern and eastern Banseim out of Cartafus, infiltrated the fortress, and was now collecting information on its interior before returning to South Baim.
(Their gear is adequate, but the atmosphere and command structure feel off. This isn't going to go the way Laiel and the others think.)
Baim had soldiers, but they hadn't received proper training. The volunteers were only accustomed to dealing with Monsters that appeared around their villages.
Their equipment was fine, but the quality beneath it was poor.
Blending in by pretending to be drunk, Rauno felt a dangerous unease at the complete lack of vigilance inside the fortress...
South Baim.
It was there that I met Baldoa Landberg, the heir to the Landberg family, who were the main branch.
"It has been some time, Lord Laiel."
Baldoa-kun—or rather, Baldoa, assumed the posture of a knight kneeling to pledge his loyalty. Apparently, he had first met me eight or nine years ago.
From then on, he had left home to train, and even after returning, had spent his time helping the head of the house with affairs in the territory, making him an individual who had not fallen for Ceres's charms.
Even with the Sixth Generation's Skills, Baldoa's response indicator stayed blue.
"Good of you to come, Baldoa. I'm sorry, but I'll need you working for me."
Baldoa rose to his feet.
"Please leave it to me. The head of the house has instructed me to fight on your behalf. Moreover, House Landberg owes a debt of gratitude to House Walt. I will prove myself useful no matter what. Give me any orders you see fit."
I had no memory of having met him before, and I felt bad about not remembering. I didn't have the luxury of honestly admitting that, either—right now, I was too busy.
"That's reassuring to hear. Then, the three hundred and fifty soldiers you've brought will be under my direct command. Sorry, but I'll need you to swap out the equipment you brought. I'll return the original gear in full, and you can do whatever you like with what I give you. Just don't sell it."
Baldoa looked somewhat bewildered in the office of my modest residence in South Baim.
"I understand that the numbers are small, but are you sure about this? If you have the funds to outfit three hundred and fifty soldiers, wouldn't it be better to use that money to recruit more men?"
I was seated in my chair, facing the desk. Mountains of paperwork were piled up, and as I finished sorting through one document, I looked up at Baldoa.
"Not a problem. I'll source whatever soldiers I'm short from the Eastern Command. Besides, I've managed to scrape together enough equipment for three thousand."
I had already placed orders with the craftsmen Ratata had brought along, the craftsmen who had relocated here, and the craftsmen of the Four-Nation Alliance and Kartafus.
I wondered how much would be ready by the time they returned, but three thousand sets had apparently been assembled.
"By the way, there are some weapons I'd like your help with. I'd like to start training the three hundred and fifty right away."
Baldoa nodded firmly.
"House Landberg has never neglected basic training. Whether it's swords, spears, or bows, we can wield them all."
A shame. What I'd prepared wasn't swords, spears, or bows.
"That's not quite right. Actually, I need you to use these."
I handed Baldoa a gun.
"...Lord Laiel, isn't this a... gun?"
"Oh, you know what these are? Then this'll be quick. Honestly, Baldoa, your unit is at its numerical limit. You were the only one who wouldn't have needed more soldiers to be effective, so I'm glad you came. Your discipline is high, and I can hand this off without worry. Now then—let's get started on training right away."
Baldoa held the gun in both hands.
"I wouldn't say I'm exactly familiar with them, but the previous head of House Walt had tried to acquire some, so we did have a few guns in our possession. However... there were many problems, and they were deemed impractical, so during Lord Maisel's generation, the decision was made to discontinue their use..."
There were numerous issues. The fact that magical shields could block them was one problem. But the biggest issue was money. Training soldiers to handle them required live ammunition, and the costs piled up endlessly.
"It's fine. They're also Mana Tools engraved with Skills. And while I'm at it... the money is being borrowed from an acquaintance, so you don't need to worry about that."
Seeing me avert my gaze, Baldoa looked concerned.
At the same time that Baldoa knew about the guns, the Seventh Generation let out a conflicted voice upon hearing that Father had banned their use.
"...In any era, those who walk ahead are never understood by the common man."
To that, the Fifth Generation spoke to the Seventh in an exasperated tone.
"It only became possible because of Baim's craftsmen and the Dungeon we manage. In the first place, you should realize we never would have gathered this many under normal circumstances. The costs are astronomical, and the results are negligible at best. Maisel's judgment was perfectly reasonable."
Money alone wasn't enough to maintain them. Without gathering that many consumables, and without craftsmen and knowledgeable people who could sustain them, the guns simply couldn't be operated.
Baldoa carefully cradled the gun and asked me for confirmation.
"By the way, Lord Laiel. How much in the way of military forces have we managed to gather beyond our own?"
I returned to the paperwork while answering.
"Across the entire Four-Nation Alliance, somewhere between thirty and forty thousand. We've already borrowed nearly ten thousand from Kartafus. On my end, adding Baldoa's unit to the mix, that's around five hundred. For all of South Baim, we don't even have two thousand."
Hearing those words, Baldoa shouted.
"Wait! You intend to fight Banseim's army with that number?!"
It was, after all, an army exceeding three hundred thousand. Fighting them head-on would be a pipe dream.
"Huh? Of course not. Sorry, but I'm not the type to fight overwhelming odds with a handful of troops."
Baldoa was bewildered.
"Then you plan to pick them off one by one? But with this kind of numerical disparity..."
This war also served to compensate for the troop numbers I lacked. Above all, there was meaning in using Banseim's soldiers.
If I were to borrow soldiers from another country, it would create a massive post-war debt. The most unpleasant aspect was the fact that it was directly tied to the harem's power balance. No, well, that wasn't relevant for now.
"Defeating them individually is the basics. However, Banseim's main target isn't me—it's Baim. There are ways to handle it. Still, I won't be launching any reckless charges."
At that, Baldoa smiled slightly.
"What is it?"
"I was simply thinking that Lord Lyle is, indeed, a splendid member of House Walt."
For some reason, I couldn't quite take Baldoa's words as a compliment.