—Around the time Lyle and the others were arguing over pudding.
Lianne had eaten three of the puddings that started the whole argument. Her pink hair was tied back, and a pen was clenched between her teeth. The pen tip bobbed up and down as her gaze swept across the documents before her. Stack upon stack of paperwork lay on the desk, and she worked through them one after another.
She read each document at lightning speed, confirmed its contents in an instant, then delivered her verdict in a single word.
"This one's no good."
She checked the name of the civil servant who had written the document. She reviewed enormous quantities of paperwork every day, but this was a name she had seen more than once. Did he think she wouldn't notice? He'd been padding the procurement costs for supplies.
Lianne had a general sense of the going prices, and she had been willing to overlook minor discrepancies up to a point. Not every civil servant knew exact market prices, and sometimes costs ran high when supplies had to be purchased in a hurry. They had been scrambling to gather provisions, so a little markup was tolerable.
However, outright fraud was a different matter entirely.
"Even if someone's going to commit fraud, doing it at this level tells me all I need to know about their competence. Wasting a low-ranking clerk would be more trouble than it's worth, though… Shall I have them reassigned to a suitable post?"
The office.
Lianne called over to the Automaton Valkyrie who had been preparing tea, then removed the pen from her mouth.
"We need to make an example of this clerk for the sake of discipline. Could you arrange to have this person reassigned to an appropriate posting?"
Lianne handed the document to the Valkyrie with a smile. The Valkyrie accepted it and, after glancing through the paperwork, grasped the general situation.
"…An appropriate posting, you said. I'll take care of it."
With that, Lianne picked up the next document, confirmed its contents in a flash, and scrawled her approval.
She continued working through them one after another, though occasionally she would pause and fall into thought.
"…Ah, this one's from Clara. She submitted a request to us because Baim wouldn't approve the budget. Honestly, improving the efficiency of the transport corps should be a given."
The document she had picked up was from Clara. It noted that Adele had already rejected it, and it concerned the Porter Corps — in other words, the unit responsible for transporting supplies. Lianne quickly ran the numbers in her head and could only conclude that securing the necessary budget would be difficult.
"Basically, we don't have any real tax revenue to speak of. We're managing by scraping together the wealth we've drawn from Baim and relying on outside funding."
The Valkyrie set a cup of tea on the desk.
"Provisions? The merchants seem to think they're lending them, though?"
"That doesn't matter. I plan to offset everything with various excuses. Lyle has always been too soft. He's developing South Baim for free and handing over port rights... It would be a problem if they started thinking all our cooperation is a given. Was it Vera? I can understand why he'd go soft when he has women from merchant families around him. But merchants' demands are endless. We need to keep them in check."
Lyle had been quite generous with the merchants of South Baim, where Fidel served as their representative. However, to Lianne, that could only feel like he was being too soft.
"There are limits to how accommodating you can be, even when you have reservations about things. He has this strangely ruthless side to him, yet he's soft in certain places. I wonder how he's managed until now."
Having determined that securing the budget was feasible, Lianne quickly began drafting the documents. She needed to issue orders to the relevant departments, but she also started preparing paperwork to send to Adele in Baim.
The reason she had bothered to stop everything and go this far was that Lianne believed optimizing the transport unit would become essential going forward.
Being able to reduce the frequency of horse usage meant that horses could be freed up for other purposes. Horses for cavalry. Farming horses. All sorts of surplus capacity would emerge.
"I do wish Adele would broaden her horizons a bit more. It might be fine at the scale of a single lord's domain, but for an entire nation, it could be quite difficult. Well, there's nothing to be done but let her get used to it."
Lianne worked even faster than Lyle, handling everything with precision.
She was a talent that Lyle and his group needed even more than having Fonbeau as an ally.
However.
"...More importantly, how are Lyle and the others doing? There were only enough puddings left for the exact number of people."
Without stopping her work, Lianne blurted out that question, and the Valkyrie who was in the room opened her mouth to answer. She spoke in a flat tone.
"They fought over the puddings, and in the end, they smashed one into Aria's face. They're causing a ruckus in the hallway now. I've received several reports from the sisters. Honestly, they're the worst."
When she relayed the report from the Valkyries stationed throughout the castle, Lianne let out a quiet chuckle.
"Oh my, how terrible. I did eat more than my share, but I made sure to leave enough for everyone. Monica said she'd made extras and told us to help ourselves, so... The ones making a fuss are Lyle and his lot. It was probably Shannon, wasn't it? She was already eating her second pudding when I left the room."
The Valkyrie asked Lianne a question.
"Do you dislike Master? Well, I suppose if you've picked up on the way things are going with the engagement, it does seem impossible to develop feelings for him."
At that, Lianne made a slightly puzzled expression. She took a sip of the tea that had been served to her.
"...I don't dislike him. I can't say I love him, though. Even so, I was once engaged to him, so I'm not so adept at simply switching to another man. Well, the Empress's chair is quite appealing, and my family will likely support me in pursuing it, so that's what I'll aim for."
When she heard about the Empress's chair, Valkyrie tilted her head.
"Is it truly that appealing? Wouldn't a woman be happier marrying the man she loves?"
Valkyrie was originally built on a core created by the ancients, and even her completion was done to ancient standards. Hearing Valkyrie's take on the matter, Lianne laughed.
"That's true enough. But things rarely go the way we hope. Still, if I had truly loved Laiel from the very beginning... I would have moved heaven and earth to eliminate every other woman in the picture."
Lianne laughed as she said this, and Valkyrie watched her with a blank expression. However, as if not wanting to be misunderstood either, Lianne offered a clarification.
"From the start, there were already other women involved. And on top of that, he showed almost no interest in me personally. I'd put in the effort to love him, but it's a one-way street. So why not at least aim for the Empress's chair?"
At that, Valkyrie spoke up.
"...Is that how it works? Hmm, then allow me, Valkyrie Number Thirty-Four, to help bring the two of you together. Leave it to me. Honestly, I couldn't care less who becomes Empress. As long as my Master is happy, I have no interest in the rest. However, the fact that I now serve at your side must be some kind of destiny! I promise to assist in any way I can. First, to get a step ahead of the other women... why not consummate a physical relationship? I'll unlock the door to Master's bedroom for you."
Valkyrie had gotten motivated... Number Thirty-Four, apparently. Number Thirty-Four, whose long black hair was tied with a ribbon near the tips, raised her right fist toward the sky with a completely expressionless face.
"...Huh?"
Seeing Valkyrie like this, Lianne could only look on in bewilderment.
At the Walt family estate.
Meizel sat writing a letter addressed to his wife Claire and his daughter Ceres. The letter conveyed his apologies for being late in heading to Central.
However, each letter also contained the promise: "I will certainly bring a gift that will make you happy." Judging by the contents, it was fairly obvious that the gift in question was Laiel's head.
After finishing writing, while waiting for the ink to dry, he prepared envelopes. He set aside separate envelopes for his wife Claire and his daughter Ceres.
Then, a knock came at the door.
"Come in."
The one who entered was Bale. A knight who served as Meizel's capable adjutant, he was a man you could rely on even on the battlefield.
"Lord Meizel, preparations are complete. We can depart at any time. ...A letter?"
When Bale glanced at the desk and asked, Meizel nodded.
"I received a letter from Ceres telling me to come quickly. Claire will also tell me to come to Central ahead of time. It would be disastrous to make a woman angry. I've had letters and gifts prepared."
Letters from both Ceres and Claire urging him to come to Central had arrived numerous times. Normally, Ceres only did such a thing for her parents. Anyone else who made Ceres wait would face punishment from those around her—execution or torture at Ceres's own hands.
That was how important Meizel was to Ceres. She considered all other humans equally worthless, but her parents were the sole exception.
"So you're smoothing over the ladies' moods? Even you, Lord Meizel, have to do this—it really does put us men at a disadvantage," Bale joked.
Meizel laughed at the quip.
"I think it's scarier when she stops reacting altogether. Well then, shall we get going? And what happened with House Landberg's participation?"
As Meizel stood up, Bale's expression tightened.
"...They say they can't send troops. They're citing the losses from the bandit suppression as their reason, but it's a pathetic excuse from my own family, embarrassing as that is. My brother has grown old. And for my nephew Baldoa to be injured by nothing more than bandits..."
Seeing Bale look so apologetic, Meizel spoke.
"If it comes to it, I might have you inherit House Landberg. Well, we can decide after we return."
The two left the room.
And so, at last, House Walt began its march toward Lufens—.
Inside the royal palace of Lufens.
The conference room had been gathered with all the key figures. However, the ones who assembled immediately were only General Broa, Baldoa, Lianne, and Monica. The others were operating elsewhere and would not return for several days.
I addressed the assembled figures in the conference room.
"...Word has come in. House Walt appears to have made its move. They've mobilized nearly eighty percent of their vassal forces and even recruited the surrounding lords. The numbers total fifty thousand. Apparently, their actual military strength is around thirty-five thousand."
General Broa stroked his chin.
"That's a bit more than I expected. I thought fifty thousand would mean their actual strength barely reached thirty thousand. House Walt must be investing heavily in rear support as well."
Monica relayed the contents of the reports to everyone.
"They're using Porters developed in Aramsass. They're well-staffed too—it seems they've become far more efficient when it comes to logistics."
Lianne listened to the report.
"We're making progress on our end too. If the enemy does invade, the fighting will take place on our territory, so we have the advantage in terms of supplies and provisions... But let me ask plainly. Are your preparations complete?"
What Lianne was asking about was the military department—whether our preparations were in order.
I was somewhat displeased, but I stated the facts.
"Since we'll likely be fighting near the border, preparations are underway. Even so, we're only at about seventy percent. We've mapped out the terrain and made arrangements for the reception, but there are some issues with unit organization."
Baldoa took over my explanation.
"We're short on weapons, armor, and horses. Our troop count exceeds the enemy's, but not by an overwhelming margin. The most we can mobilize is fifty thousand actual soldiers."
Lianne continued in a level tone.
"We have the advantage in numbers, but not even by a factor of two. If we take heavy losses, it'll be a major problem even if we win. Reinforcing our forces won't be easy."
Right. Securing manpower was difficult for us. The destroyed Lufence had no people left. Baim was also severely depleted. Whether we lost and suffered heavy casualties, or won and took significant damage, we'd have a problem replenishing our forces.
General Broa let out a sigh.
"It's not just a simple matter of numbers, either—there's also the question of quality. House Walt... there's a reason they're called the strongest in Banseim. How should I put it? Even their common soldiers are stronger than mediocre knights. I can hardly comprehend why they'd need to be trained to such a degree."
That was when voices came from inside the Jewel—the Third Generation and Seventh Generation, sounding utterly unapologetic.
"Sorry about that, Broa. See, the Second Generation told us to do it, so we just followed along. Sorry for being so strong."
"...Central coming to rely on House Walt, and all that know-how piling up over the generations—that's part of the reason too. Well, these are the forces we built up. There's no way they'd be weak!"
Starting from the First Generation, and then passed down to the Eighth Generation—my father, Meizel Walt.
I knew it, but it was troublesome.
Bread's group of dead soldiers was one thing, but this time the enemy also included the forces of House Walt. And to make matters worse, Skills couldn't be used.
Lianne addressed us.
"At the very least, if we're going to bring this to a decisive battle with Banseim, we need a hundred thousand troops. You all probably know more about the fighting itself, but the real problem is that if Laiel, as the alliance leader, has too few forces, the surrounding nations will look down on us."
Winning wasn't enough. It wasn't as simple as that. In the midst of this situation, I found myself about to face my father in battle.
I looked at everyone.
"On the other hand, if we can win here, we'll be one giant step closer to toppling Banseim. Their capital—Central—is surrounded by hostile nations and can barely move. But from here, we'll be able to march right in. Banseim also lost a great deal of military strength in the last battle. If we can crush House Walt's forces here—"
General Broa shrugged his shoulders.
"—there will be a string of rebellions breaking out across Banseim. The number of lords willing to cooperate with us will grow all at once."
In a sense, this battle would determine the fate of our war with Banseim. Once the tide turned, it would be nearly impossible for Banseim to recover. Even if their leader was Ceres.
Then Baldoa addressed everyone.
"House Walt is certainly a threat, but the lords who joined them are threats as well. Speaking as someone who was once one of them, I believe we should be equally wary of House Foxes."
When Lianne heard the name House Foxes—
"That's Novem's birth family, isn't it? Are they really that much of a threat?"
I thought back on House Foxes. Novem—the clan of the Evil God. The strongest among them, Novem herself, was at my side, but members of that same clan also served under my father.
Baldoa spoke.
"Naturally. They're in a master-servant relationship with House Walt and are looked down upon for it, but... from what I've seen of House Foxes on several occasions, they are a very real threat. In particular, every head of the family they've had has been first-rate when it comes to magic. If you consider what Novem... is capable of, I think you'll understand."
On a battlefield where Skills couldn't be used, magic became all the more important. In such a scenario, House Foxes, with their expertise in handling magic, posed a formidable threat.
(I wonder how Novem feels about fighting her own family.)
With that thought in mind, I decided to issue orders to everyone.