The number of refugees streaming into Baim was increasing by the day.
In front of the heavily fortified gates, a group seeking help arrived once more today. Seeing them, the young adventurer standing guard clenched his fists.
"Why are we just sitting here?! If we went out there, we could stop those cowards from Banseim from doing whatever they wanted to Baim!"
There was both truth and error in those words.
Baim did indeed have many capable adventurers. Compared individually, quite a few of them possessed skills that exceeded those of ordinary soldiers. But adventurers who had never experienced a battlefield could not fully grasp that.
Working alongside those young adventurers was a man in his forties who had been considering retirement from adventuring. He was not a particularly remarkable adventurer, but he had accumulated a fair share of experience over the years.
He had ventured onto battlefields out of sheer greed for money, and in the process had gained all manner of experience. He had been told to lead the young adventurers, and the Guild had assigned him as the coordinator for several parties. But from his perspective, the young adventurers around him were nothing but amateurs.
They had fought Monsters inside Dungeons. They had taken on requests and set out to slay Monsters. That was the extent of their experience—they did not truly understand what war was.
Even with both armies numbering just over a thousand, things were already dire—so what about a war involving hundreds of thousands? The man looked at the young adventurers.
"What good does splitting our forces do? How many people are you even planning to send out to help?"
The young adventurer spoke.
"That's obvious. If we have a few hundred, we can go help. We'll save the villages and drive those Banseim bastards back!"
The young adventurer had heard from the fleeing villagers that raiding parties of several hundred had stormed in. Hearing this, the man shook his head.
"...If you head out there with that many, you'll be surrounded by twice the number and crushed."
Banseim already held the advantage in numbers. Moreover, the enemy had mercenaries who knew Baim's geography like the back of their hands. By any reasonable assessment, Baim was being pushed into a corner.
However, many of the adventurers failed to grasp this. It seemed they simply could not comprehend that they would be fighting fellow humans rather than Monsters.
No, it was more that the scale was too vast for them to process.
"We fought our way through the twentieth floor of the Dungeon and survived! We've got the strength to reach the thirtieth floor too. There's no way we'd lose that easily."
Watching the young adventurers brimming with confidence, the man reached up and touched his iron helm, as if to hide his gaze.
"…Do you lot even know who's in charge here?"
The adventurers turned to look at the man.
"What's this? You gonna tell us to follow your orders? Sorry, but whatever some powerless adventurer has to say—"
Facing the young adventurer who looked down on him, the man spoke.
"No. I mean who's running this place. Someone above my superior—the person responsible for this gate."
The young adventurers wore confused expressions, and even as he thought *this again*, the man steeled himself.
(There's actually someone out there who's fought a war on this scale? The other side fights wars year-round.)
—In the heart of Baim.
At the gathering place for merchants and Guild executives, complaints from evacuated villagers arrived nearly every day.
Demanding funds for rebuilding damaged villages was still the manageable kind. But the claims that they were victims who deserved better treatment—those were the most troublesome to deal with.
They had rented out a great many inns and prepared rooms, but it still wasn't nearly enough. When they crammed people into unused buildings, complaints followed. And in this dire situation, the most vexing issue was—
"Why was Lael exiled?"
Repelling the great army of Monsters and achieving the Miracle of Redant was recent enough in Baim that the memory still lingered in people's minds.
With each passing day, voices demanding someone take responsibility for Redant Fortress being breached so effortlessly and causing such widespread devastation grew louder.
The conference room… That was where their response going forward was supposed to be discussed.
But in reality—
"This is not my fault! You all agreed to the expulsion!"
"The Southern Branch was the one who forced it through!"
"The Southern Branch's mercenaries were the ones who led Banseim right in! Don't you dare say you bear no responsibility!"
The Southern Branch executive was being cornered by the other executives present and the merchants alike. When they heard that many of the mercenaries who had guided Banseim were Southern Branch mercenaries, they could hardly be blamed for wanting someone's head.
And so, day after day, the meetings reached no resolution.
"Wh-This is no time to be saying that! We need to come up with a plan to deal with Banseim immediately!"
"Before that, refugees who have infiltrated the cities in Baim are on the verge of rioting. Someone needs to take responsibility!"
"I hear they're pillaging the surrounding areas. Why not dispatch ten or twenty thousand troops to rescue them?"
"And who would lead them? Besides, Banseim's forces have already rallied and are marching on the urban centers."
Because the meetings kept going nowhere, the response was falling behind. The merchants didn't want to send soldiers out of Baim, where their trading houses were located.
The Guild, concerned with its reputation as well, wanted to send adventurers to rescue Baim's residents.
Opinions were divided, and at the end of each meeting, as always—.
"...Why not send an envoy to South Baim? By sea, even Banseim can't interfere."
The voices calling to appeal to Laiel and the others grew louder, and once it became clear their own lives were truly in danger, the momentum shifted toward turning to South Baim—to Laiel—for help.
But the people in Baim understood. They were the ones who had exiled Laiel. To any third party, Laiel was the wholly aggrieved party.
The merchants who had started new businesses in South Baim were originally people they themselves had driven out. Even if they asked for help, would they actually receive it?
And most importantly of all... .
"Even if we ask for help, South Baim doesn't have that many troops. Besides, what would they demand in return?"
Watching these meetings play out time and again was Tahnia, who was participating alongside the executives of the Eastern Branch. One of the Eastern Branch executives—Tahnia's superior—spoke.
"South Baim is in danger too, so there is a possibility they'd cooperate. No, I should say there was a possibility. At this point, it's already too late."
Tahnia turned to her superior.
"Wouldn't offering the Guild's reinstatement, preferential treatment, and a fair compensation package work?"
Her superior smiled faintly.
"Would someone like that be swayed by such things? Tahnia—the Tahnia who used to work the reception desk—what do you think?"
Tahnia thought for a moment, then shook her head. The silky black hair that fell to her shoulders swayed with the motion.
"...It wouldn't work. I don't know what Raier could possibly offer to help Baim."
Her superior nodded in agreement. Just then, news arrived in the conference room. A breathless Guild employee threw the door open violently.
"South Baim has crushed Banseim's forces — roughly ten thousand strong — that had been pillaging southern Baim!"
For Baim, it was the best possible news—
—Bread had been growing increasingly irritated by the daily succession of raids.
Night would fall, and suddenly loud noises would ring out. Horses neighing, the clash of metal, the tolling of bells. On top of that, attacks shrouded in the darkness of night had left supplies running low.
It wasn't that they were truly short on supplies. Overall, it was a minor problem. But the soldiers' fatigue was accumulating day by day.
The baron rode alongside Bread on horseback. Bread turned his gaze toward the baron.
"Do you think Raier and the others are really that desperate?"
There was a note of anxiety mixed into his voice. The baron answered boldly.
"Quite the opposite. Facing these numbers, they have no effective strategy and are resorting to scattered harassment. If we let our guard down, we'll take some losses, but the final victory is unshaken. They have no other card left to play. If they did, they would have attacked us headlong by now."
Bread considered this.
(The baron does have a point. They can't mount a real assault, so all they can manage is petty harassment, is that it?)
"Understood. Let's increase the number of night watches."
Bread decided to counter Raier's harassment by bolstering the nighttime guard beyond what he had deployed before—
—Night.
Eva observed the increased number of sentries and pondered for a moment.
Surrounding them were the elves — the harassment squad — holding position and waiting for Eva's orders. A dark elf woman spoke up.
"So, what's the plan, Your Highness?"
Eva stared in surprise.
"Wait, what do you mean, 'Princess'?"
"You're of the Nihil bloodline. And you're the star of our hopes. Princess suits you, doesn't it?"
Eva thought it wasn't quite right, but she puffed her chest out slightly and placed a hand on her prominently jutting bosom.
"Drop the 'Princess.' How about 'Songstress'? The greatest songstress in the world."
She meant it as a joke, but the dark elves said in unison:
"Got it, Songstress."
"Songstress, huh? That's pretty bold of you, Songstress."
"Well, for an elf, that might suit you better. Songstress."
Facing the dark elves who were earnestly intent on going with Songstress, Eva shook her head. A hint of embarrassment colored her expression.
"I'm sorry. It was a joke, so please stop. That was my fault."
Then, the dark elf woman said to Eva:
"So, what's the plan today, Songstress? Are you going to use your Skills to make some loud noises? Or are we attacking with arrows?"
Realizing they weren't going to stop calling her Songstress, Eva's shoulders drooped. Then she said to the dark elves:
"...There are too many enemies today, so let's pass. This is already plenty of harassment as it is. We should move ahead and rest up."
"Are you sure?"
"It's fine. Laiel also told us to space things out properly. It seems to be more effective that way."
Eva and her group's harassment had been steadily wearing down Banseim's forces——
As we waited for Banseim's forces, we held discussions with the units that had arrived to join us while preparations continued.
The units that had linked up were the main force of the four-nation alliance. Some of them hadn't been able to release their key combat forces because they couldn't predict Banseim's movements.
However, once Banseim made Baim their sole target, reinforcements quickly made their way to us via sea routes. It was mainly the ships from House Trace and various merchants that stepped up.
Approaching me with a sway of her silver hair was Gracia, dressed in black. No—Gracia. Her expression was somewhat stern, but when I flashed her a smile, her pale cheeks flushed pink.
"It's good to see you, Gracia."
When I spread my arms wide, Gracia hesitantly drew closer and wrapped herself in a hug. She was making her presence and standing known to everyone around her. For me, this was equally convenient.
Baldoa, who had only recently joined up with us, was staring wide-eyed. Beside him, Maxim—not Baldoa's handler, but someone who knew the ropes—was busy explaining things.
"Lord Maxim, just how many women does Lord Lyle keep!?"
"Calm yourself, Lord Baldoa. He doesn't keep them. They keep him. Be respectful about it. After all, they've committed quite a number of soldiers to this. A single nation fielding ten thousand puts her on par with Lady Eliza of Rusworth."
Among the four-nation alliance, only Galleria and Rusworth had fielded ten thousand troops. Zayin had committed eight thousand, and Rolfis had six thousand—the smallest contribution, owing to a lack of personnel to rally them.
All told, a force of thirty-four thousand had gathered at South Baim.
The Cartaphus soldiers, while depleted, could still field nine thousand. Add that to the forty-three thousand, plus my own unit and the South Baim garrison—we had roughly forty-five thousand at our disposal.
Gracia was still clinging to me, and though my embrace was gentle, her chest pressed against me with a rather… substantial sensation.
"Lyle, your nose is going to droop if you keep staring like that, and that's no look for a leader. If you're not used to women, then now's the perfect time to ask Miranda to take care of your virginity—"
Mireia pretended to offer advice while strongly pushing Miranda forward. But the Fifth Generation had a different opinion.
"Good grief, ignore that one. The safe choice is either Novem or Aria. Neither of them goes around stirring up trouble over this sort of thing."
It was the Third Generation who countered that view.
"Now now, you mustn't forget my top pick—Clara. Aria's not bad either, but she can't lie to save her life. Information would leak from her for certain… So it's got to be either Clara or Novem!"
But then the Seventh Generation raised her voice in protest.
"Don't be absurd. This involves the critical matter of a primary wife! Lyle, settle this with Ludmilla or Lianne."
What was I supposed to make of this? Not a single opinion aligned. This had been the case from the very beginning, but the voices within the Jewel were as divided as ever.
I pulled away from Gracia and spoke to her, her cheeks still flushed red.
"Lend me your help again, Gracia."
At that, Gracia raised her hand to brush back her hair, all the while acutely aware of the gazes around her.
"Leave it to me. I'll wield my spear for you. Th-that is... as your woman..."
Before she could finish those words, Eliza burst in with a flustered look about her. She wore white clothes, a stark contrast to Gracia. And her light-blue hair gave off an icy impression to everyone around.
I thanked Gracia, then turned toward Eliza.
"I've been waiting for you, Eliza."
"Y-yes! I wanted to get here quickly, but my retainers wouldn't let me. But now that I'm here, you can rest easy!"
As she spread both arms wide and went to embrace me, Baldoa spoke up once again.
"Lord Lyle... I don't suppose you're..."
Maxim let out a dry chuckle.
"See? Impressive, isn't it? ...Honestly, we're lucky to be living in an era where so many of the leaders are women. Lord Lyle is something else. Once he sets his sights on prey, he never misses. I am a little worried on Lady Adele's behalf, though. I absolutely won't let the two of you be alone together."
Baldoa stared at Maxim's face intently.
"No way—Rolfis and Zayin too?!"
"Regrettably..."
When Maxim said "regrettably," Baldoa looked relieved. But then he heard the rest of what Maxim had to say and buried his head in his hands.
"As for Zayin—well, even I don't know how that'll turn out. Just rumors at this point, but apparently it has something to do with the previous and current Saintesses. And the princess of House Rolfis was turned down by Lady Novem. So that's good for you, I suppose. I don't know if it's some family precept or what, but apparently every house other than Rolfis meets the requirements."
Baldoa murmured.
"...The family precept for House Walt about taking brides, you mean. Indeed, we satisfy that condition, and if Lady Novem of House Foxes approves, then there's no doubt about it. But the issue of heirs is still a real concern... At this rate, it'll turn out just like last time... Father, what should I do..."
For some reason... looking at Baldoa had started to feel amusing. In fact, I was even thinking I might just introduce a few women to him too.