"How could they fail to properly encircle the enemy!"
"How long do you intend to leave the kingdom's safety in the hands of foreign mercenaries!"
Criticism erupted fiercely, centered on the subjects who had suffered losses from Elizabeth's strategy.
It didn't stop there. Fortified cities officially began demanding countermeasures as well. Peasants who had lost their homes to pillaging and arson had flooded into the cities in droves, and the cities' public order and living conditions were deteriorating rapidly as they struggled to absorb them.
Why should city funds be spent supporting non-citizens? Displaced refugees were becoming vagrants, wandering the back alleys of the cities — and how long did the royal court intend to persist in this war of attrition? For that matter, the current situation in which command had been handed over to a foreigner was abnormal to begin with...
All manner of grievances erupted, attacking Elizabeth's position.
The Kingdom of Sardinia's royal court found itself in a difficult spot. It wasn't as though the court favored a war of attrition out of any great preference. Pavia had fallen, Piacenza and Parma had surrendered, La Spezia had surrendered, Genoa had fallen — disaster after disaster had struck in succession, and the court simply lacked the capacity to wage another pitched battle.
They had to buy time until foreign reinforcements arrived. A war of attrition was the least bad option for getting through the worst of times. But in practice, it was no different from declaring, "We are temporarily ceding all of our territory except for our strongholds."
Whoever drafted the strategy of attrition would be subjected to tremendous criticism. That was precisely why Elizabeth had stepped forward. "I am a foreigner regardless. Even if I shoulder the blame, I have no political standing to lose. I will bear the people's grievances on behalf of our allied nation..."
However, the scale of the grievances was far too severe.
On September 17, 1512 by the Continental Calendar — just as all of Sardinia was locked in fierce debate over whether to strip Elizabeth of her position as supreme commander — a contingent of troops landed in Genoa.
"Welcome to the Kingdom of Sardinia, Your Majesty. From the bottom of my heart."
"There is no greeting more unsettling than one from you."
The troops led by Henrietta de Bretagne, Queen of the Kingdom of Bretagne, had dropped anchor. Their number was five thousand. It was a scale too small to decide the fate of a great nation, but I welcomed them with genuinely open arms.
Because all five thousand were cavalry.
Not just any cavalry — they were the cavalry of the Kingdom of Bretagne. I knew from painful experience just how terrifying a military force that was. Bretagne's cavalry could shatter an enemy force single-handedly, even without infantry support, and in rather elegant terms, they were called "thugs."
"Your Majesty, the mere fact that you have graced us with your presence makes it feel as though the war is already over. Well, they do say that yesterday's ally is today's enemy — but when yesterday's enemy becomes today's ally, it is remarkably reassuring."
"You're as brazen-faced as ever. That's oddly comforting, in its own way."
Queen Henrietta let out a wry snort, as though exasperated. Her beautiful red hair seemed to have lost some of its luster — she had clearly been through a great deal of hardship.
Contrary to the warm atmosphere between the two of us, the generals standing behind the Queen glared at me as though I were a demon. They were all commanders of the Bretagne Kingdom's forces. To them, I was the man who had brought their nation to ruin — their number one candidate for immediate execution.
"Well, well. Why so grim, everyone? We're about to be comrades navigating countless hardships together, so let's at least smile at one another. Come now — smile. Give me a big one."
"......"
I beamed brightly as I went around shaking hands with each of the commanders one by one. Their shoulders trembled with every shake. Perhaps they had been at sea so long that they desperately needed to relieve themselves. Poor things.
Incidentally, I absolutely loved the way defeated dogs stared at me. You could even say I loved it. Was this not the very reward of wielding power?
Behind me, the Saint of Longueuil heaved a sigh.
"Everyone. The Court Count is right. There's nothing to gain from infighting among allies — only our enemies will rejoice. This maiden believes that even momentarily setting aside past grudges serves the interests of our Kingdom."
"If the Saint says so, then......"
True devotees of the Goddess Athena, every last one of them. The moment the Saint spoke a word, they nodded their heads whether they liked it or not. Well, it didn't matter to me — as long as I could communicate with commanders of the Queen's or the Saint's caliber, everything was fine. There would be no problems.
After spending a day recovering from the journey, Queen Henrietta summoned me for a private audience.
"I've received reports on the state of the war. It seems Elise has been placed in quite a difficult situation."
"A devious and vicious scheme, to be sure."
"Hm?"
Henrietta raised her wine glass and furrowed her brows.
"What do you mean?"
"Consul Elisabeth is deliberately weakening her own political standing. That is what I mean."
"Deliberately weakening her political standing......"
The Queen's eyes narrowed.
"Dantalion. You know something, don't you?"
"Don't you find it strange? If Elisabeth truly intended to save the Kingdom of Sardinia, she should not have so brazenly drawn the Anatolia Empire into this. In the future, even if Sardinia wins the war, it will have to live in the shadow of Anatolia."
Her only ally would become a puppet state. Why had Elizabeth made such a blunder?
"Elizabeth has simply swapped out her diplomatic partner, Your Majesty."
"From Sardinia to Anatolia... So that's how it was."
"That's right."
I nodded.
"There's no way Anatolia would help Elizabeth for free. The minimum condition would be acquiring Venice; the maximum condition would be... the division and collapse of Sardinia, most likely. So that the entirety of Sardinia becomes a puppet of the Anatolia Empire."
Henrietta let out a low groan.
"This is the work of a demon. Leading an allied nation to ruin instead of helping it."
"In exchange, the Habsburg Republic will gain a far more powerful ally. The great nation of Anatolia. Isn't that the finest move of all?"
"..."
Henrietta's expression grew darker by the moment. She seemed to have realized just how filthy a war she had stepped into.
Yes. In this land, there was no loyalty to allies, no courtesy to foreign nations, and no consideration for the common people. Only deception and falsehood ran rampant. Both Elizabeth and I would stop at nothing to achieve our objectives.
"Your Majesty, you're no different. You came all this way for the sake of Bretagne, didn't you? Using Sardinia's corpse as nourishment to supply Bretagne."
"..."
"No, to be precise, not even for Bretagne. For your own royal authority. By succeeding in this expedition, you demonstrate that your military might still stands, and you silence the discontent brewing within Bretagne."
I smiled.
"A splendid monarch you are. A textbook example of a ruler who will sacrifice anything for power. Ah, I don't mean to mock you. I simply wanted to say that friends do tend to resemble one another."
"...You're right."
Henrietta drained her wine in one gulp, then spoke.
"The only thing that matters to me is the nation. But a nation that isn't mine is of no use to me. Bretagne is mine, and therefore Bretagne's glory is my glory."
"I appreciate your honesty."
"But what exactly are you fighting for?"
Henrietta fixed me with a piercing gaze.
"The Habsburg Empire has split into the Empire and the Republic. The Frank Empire has split into the center and the periphery. And now you're trying to shatter Sardinia into pieces. Dantalion — everywhere you set foot, you leave division in your wake. ...What exactly are you after, and how far are you willing to go?"
I smiled quietly.
Of course — the division of all humanity.
Frank hates Bretagne. Bretagne hates Batavia. Sardinia hates Bretagne. Each side's grievances tangle and collide, escalating into violent, irrepressible hatred for one another.
Right then.
Our Demon Lord army will conquer the continent.
It is no longer the old Demon Lord army. It is the Demon Lord army I control from the shadows under the name of the Habsburg Empire. And...
"The reason I started this war."
"Hm?"
"The original objective was to cut off the Kingdom of Sardinia's support for the Habsburg Republic. I wanted to crush Elizabeth to death by any means necessary. Sardinia's support was a genuine thorn in my side."
I swirled my wine glass in a small circle.
"Elizabeth knows that too. Look at how she brought in Anatolia right from the start. A diplomatic agreement like that doesn't come together in a day or two. She'd been preparing for months before the war even began."
A laugh escaped my lips of its own accord.
"Elizabeth realized immediately that I started this war because of her. Which means she also knows that the only person who can negotiate with me is her. Elizabeth is seducing me right now."
"Seducing you?"
"Yes. 'Even if you trample Sardinia, I still have Anatolia. Instead of fighting me for nothing, why don't we amicably split Sardinia between us?'"
To put it metaphorically — a grand proposal at a ball.
Sardinia serves as the stage where Elisabeth and I dance. Whoever can draw in more foreign powers — that is the measure of skill. I courted the Helvetica Confederation and the Kingdom of Bretagne. Elisabeth brought in the Anatolia Empire.
The more spectators, the better. The Kingdom of Sardinia will be carved to pieces, thoroughly satisfying its neighbors. It is no different from a group of men sitting around a table, sharing a rare steak dripping with blood.
The Marquis of Lodi was abandoned, and the Grand Duke of Florence is dead. Loyal retainers and capable officials alike are disappearing one by one. In their place, a single fox from foreign lands has claimed the seat. The fate of Sardinia has already been decided……
"That is why I am thinking of letting this matter slide. They gifted an entire kingdom just to placate one man, after all. Well, it does feel a touch insufficient, but I should forgive them in consideration of the effort. I am a generous man."
"……."
"If Elisabeth is ousted this time, the next Commander-in-Chief will have no choice but to rotate into battle whether they like it or not. And if that last Commander-in-Chief ends up dead as well, the Sardinian royal family will have no choice but to reinstate Elisabeth. I look forward to that day……"
Henrietta regarded my smiling face with a peculiar look in her eyes.
The meeting ended around that point. The strategy was to avoid engaging the forces led by Elisabeth and focus all hostilities on units commanded by other generals.
Naturally, the Sardinian royal family could not accept the situation of a major city like Genoa falling entirely into the hands of the Grand Temple of Athena. The royal family denounced the Kingdom of Bretagne alongside the Grand Temple of Athena, claiming that a third party had recklessly interfered in another nation's war.
Of course, the surrounding nations did not take such nonsense seriously.
─ Was it not Sardinia that brought the Republic into this first?
─ And the Anatolia Empire on top of that. Even playing dumb has its limits.
Rather, their cold reactions only served to further isolate Sardinia. My frantic efforts to gain the upper hand in justification were finally paying off.
The Sardinian royal family could not withstand the combined internal and external pressure. In the end, they pressured Consul Elisabeth to step down from the position of Commander-in-Chief.
Contrary to popular expectation, Elisabeth stepped down cleanly. She even handed over the mercenary companies hired with the royal family's money, which surprised everyone around her. However, she retained sole command over the Anatolian mercenaries, and not a single person raised an objection to this.
Once Elisabeth withdrew, the one who seized full authority was Ludovico de Sforza.
Known colloquially as the Duke of Milan.