Laura issued orders without hesitation, as if the stage for explaining the operation had already concluded.
She made judgments faster than anyone on a military operation. An even greater advantage was that she never delayed a single moment between making a decision and putting it into action.
"Baron de Blanc! You will lead six thousand cavalry with me toward Pavia. We will march at full speed without rest for two days. Prepare yourself."
"I shall comply!"
The elf mercenary captain saluted.
She looked young enough to be sixteen, but she was an elf nonetheless — a veteran among veterans well past ninety years of age. Her name was Juliana de Blanc, born into a baronial house in Helvetica.
Laura issued the next order.
"Captain Dunang! I grant you command over all infantry forces. You will lead a thousand cavalry and twenty thousand infantry on a march to Milan."
"To Milan, Your Highness?"
A dwarf mercenary captain tilted her head.
It was Laura herself who had just emphatically warned them never to attack Milan. Now ordering them to head there again would naturally be confusing. Laura did not bother to resolve the captain's doubt and simply repeated the same order with perfect clarity.
"Yes. However, under no circumstances are you to pillage civilian homes. And there is no need to attack Milan. No need to surround it either. Simply advance to the vicinity of Milan and observe the city — that will suffice."
"An easy enough order."
The dwarf captain did not press for an explanation beyond what was necessary. She only wanted to know what she needed to do and how to do it.
"What if the enemy engages us, Your Highness? How should we respond?"
"I trust your judgment," Laura answered immediately.
"You have spent decades, even over a hundred years, rolling across the continent as a battlefield. The Sardinians, on the other hand, have at most fought civil wars. Your experience and instincts, forged in blood and sweat, far surpass anything the Kingdom of Sardinia can muster."
"I— I am deeply honored."
When a subordinate flatters you, you laugh it off and move on. But when a superior pours out praise as though stating the most obvious truth in the world, it becomes genuinely embarrassing. And when that superior happened to be an incomparable beauty one might never see even once in a lifetime, it was doubly so.
"Ahem, ahem."
"But we mustn't let our guard down. Mmm."
The mercenary captains stared intently in utterly random directions — at the ground, at the sky.
They were only trying to hide their embarrassment. The sight of these fierce-looking individuals acting shy like mountain maidens at their first festival was enough to pose a serious threat to the health of my eyes.
Laura smiled at them — a radiant smile, like a landscape painting freshly blooming in summer rain.
"Well, I doubt a battle will actually take place in Milan. Begin constructing a supply depot. I will bring ample food to stock it, so wait at your leisure."
The mercenary captains stared at Laura with their mouths hanging half open.
The moment they were struck by Laura's smile, their hearts must have given a heavy thud. I understand. That's exactly why, whenever Laura smiles, I can't help myself and pounce on her regardless of whether we're in a dungeon or on the village main street.
"Hmm? Is something on my face?"
Laura tilted her head.
That gesture was lethally adorable. She was truly a woman hazardous to one's heart.
"N-No, nothing at all, Your Highness."
"Your Highness looks as beautiful as always!"
The captains hastily feigned nonchalance.
But despite their words, their faces had already turned red. As always, males of every species were a hopelessly pitiful race.
...Wait, looking more carefully, even Captain de Blanc's cheeks were flushed. Could it be that she swung that way? Was Laura a sniper who hit regardless of gender or species...
It's fine. I understand the captains. I have spent a considerable amount of time with Laura and developed a sort of immunity. What they lack is that immunity. Get used to it. Once you're used to it, things become easier.
"...Why does the Court Count have such a peculiar expression?"
Laura glanced at me with half-lidded eyes — a look that clearly said, 'What strange thought is this lord entertaining now?'
I shrugged.
"I don't know what you mean. I was simply feeling profound sorrow in my heart for the civilians who will be exhausted by this war."
Laura sighed.
That sigh marked the end of the council.
The Imperial Army immediately split into a main force of twenty-one thousand and a detachment of six thousand. Normally it would be common sense for the supreme commander to lead the main body, but Laura did the opposite and commanded the detachment.
The main Imperial force advanced toward Milan as planned. Rather than aggressively attacking Milan, their purpose was to slowly press in on it.
Meanwhile—
"All troops, advance at maximum speed."
Laura led six thousand cavalry who pushed the pace from the very start.
We thundered across the stretch between Milan and Novara at full gallop. The enemy only realized the existence of our detachment later — and only because our riders happened to stumble upon enemy scouts along the way. The scouts took one look at us and fled in a panic.
"Shall we chase them down and crush them, Your Highness?"
Baroness Juliana de Blanc spoke, already poised to wheel her horse around. As a lifelong mercenary, she couldn't help but grow fierce the moment enemy soldiers came into sight.
Laura shook her head.
"No. Let them go."
Our detachment ignored even the scouts and continued its forced march.
The Kingdom's forces must have been bewildered. The twin bastions of Milan and Novara stood like bookends along the route. They never expected us to bypass both entirely and keep going. Our advance was nothing short of lightning. In exactly one day, we broke through the defensive line connecting Milan and Novara.
The sheer audacity of the maneuver caught even our own side off guard.
"Your Highness! What if the enemy strikes at our rear?!"
Baroness de Blanc shouted while riding at full tilt.
"Our main force hasn't surrounded Milan either. If Milan sends reinforcements, and Novara responds by sending more reinforcements as well, we'll have our backs cut off from both directions!"
"That's exactly the opposite, Baroness de Blanc."
Laura answered with a smile in her voice.
"The ones with their backs cut off are not us. It's Milan."
"Excuse me?"
"Didn't I say at yesterday's meeting? Sardinia's fundamental strategic objective is to defend their strongholds. They have no intention of annihilating us in a single decisive battle, nor do they have the strength for it."
Laura tilted her head slightly to look at Baroness de Blanc.
The wind blew into their faces, and Laura's golden hair swayed in soft, graceful arcs.
"It's not just the strategic objective. The soldiers themselves are also a problem."
"The soldiers...?"
Baroness de Blanc wore a puzzled expression.
"Militia troops are certainly desperate to protect their home city. But then again, that also means militia rarely take the initiative outside of defensive warfare. Going outside the city to intercept us... it sounds simple enough, but from the militia's perspective it's not an attractive option."
The enemy, by strategic necessity, cannot leave their fortified base of Milan.
Moreover, since the enemy is composed mostly of militia, they have little desire to venture outside the city and engage offensively.
These are the passive reasons that keep the enemy pinned in place.
"Furthermore, our main force is clearly advancing on Milan. Baroness — in this situation, what would the Duke of Milan do when he has to defend the city with his militia?"
"He would... order them to hold the city, I imagine, Your Highness."
And the final active reason that forces the enemy to stay put — the approach of the twenty-one thousand strong main force that Laura had sent toward Milan.
"The Duke of Milan would worry that if he dispatches reinforcements and weakens his garrison, our main force might launch a siege. Therefore—"
Therefore, even if Pavia is plundered, he will insist on holding his defenses.
Laura smiled brightly.
"Can you see any flaws in the logic I've constructed, Baroness?"
"Excuse me? Ah. I— I'm sorry. I failed to see it."
Baroness de Blanc stammered her reply.
Laura then turned her head toward me.
"Court Count. Do you see the hole in our plan, Court Count?"
"You didn't account for the Count of Pavia."
I answered immediately.
Laura normally called me 'my lord,' but since I had been appointed as the Emperor's deputy commander, she had decided to use formal address in public where others could observe. If she called me 'my lord' and deferentially so, the mercenary captains would find it strange.
It was inevitable that some captain would sooner or later respect me more than Laura. That was human nature. Once you figured out who held real power, you followed them without hesitation...
It is never desirable for a junior to hold more sway than a senior in front of a crowd. The expedition force needed to be unified under Laura's command.
"When I said militia defending Milan, that doesn't mean it's composed purely of Milanese citizens. They would have drawn troops from nearby cities and villages as well. ...Among those would be the militia from Pavia."
"Correct. And here comes the question."
Laura grinned.
That was not the smile of a beautiful woman — it was the smile of a strategist manipulating a war.
"The Count of Pavia fears me more than anyone. After all, he is the very man who sold me into slavery. He must be tormented by the dread of retaliation."
"Indeed."
"That kind of count."
Laura paused for a beat and smiled even more deeply.
"When he receives a report that the Imperial Army is racing toward his territory at full speed — what thoughts will cross his mind?"
The corners of my mouth curled upward.
"He will think that the Imperial Army intends to make an example of Pavia and raze it to the ground."
"The count will lose his domain and his people in one stroke, and be ruined entirely."
"Naturally, he will then desperately beg the commanding officer, the Duke of Milan, to send reinforcements."
Laura and I — my lord and her loyal servant — grinned at each other. Any third party watching would have been horrified.
"..."
In fact, Baroness de Blanc was staring with wide eyes and an open mouth.
I understood her completely. She had no immunity to conversations like this. Get used to it. Once you're used to it, things become easier.
"And would the Duke of Milan allow it?"
"Pavia matters to the count just as much as Milan matters to the duke. There's no way he'll agree."
"Then the count will furiously denounce the duke as a coward who only protects his own domain."
"The duke, seething with rage, will shout at the count to take care of his own territory instead of ignoring the military operation."
The count will brand the duke a coward and a coward. The duke will condemn the count as a petty man who cares for nothing but himself.
A dispute erupts at the highest level of command.
And if that happens, there is only one outcome.
"The Count of Pavia will march out alone."
"'Cowards can stay holed up in their city. I will personally condemn that slave-owner.' Something to that effect, I imagine. In reality, of course, the real purpose would be to evacuate his citizens."
We shared quiet laughter.
Ah, how enjoyable it was. To toy with what others held dear and divide them against one another — no other pleasure could compare.
Anyone who took delight in such things was undoubtedly among the most wretched creatures in the world.
But then again, Laura and I had already fallen as far as we could go.
I couldn't stop laughing as I asked:
"How do you plan to handle the count, who has abandoned the safety of his city to charge out on his own? And alone, at that, General Laura?"
"What else could it mean?"
Laura raised her hand and pointed ahead.
"Of course, we'll give him a grand welcome."
Six thousand cavalry thundered forward, kicking up clouds of dust.
The target was Pavia.
No — it was the forest between Pavia and Milan.