"What a perfect opportunity."
Laura blurted out the question before she could stop herself.
"My lord. It's obvious we'll achieve results in the pursuit, but the siege equipment essential for taking Munich hasn't been prepared yet. If we force a siege, our casualties will increase exponentially."
"We can use the ogres."
Dantalion answered as though he'd had the reply ready all along.
"Don't you remember, Laura? The very first battle we fought—a proper war, that is. We had to cross the Black Mountains to invade the Habsburg Empire..."
"..."
Laura fell silent.
The Eighth Crescent Alliance Army. Less than a decade had passed, yet it felt like an impossibly distant memory to Laura. Back then, everything had still been foreign and bewildering. Now Laura served as supreme commander of the Demon Lord's army, but back then she had been nothing more than an aide-de-camp. The Demonkin had looked down on the human Laura and openly shunned her...
A faint smile crossed Laura's face.
"Ah. Of course I remember. How could a girl forget?"
"I was merely a staff officer on the vanguard. You were at best a horse archer, Laura. How touching it is now. Yes, Commander Zepar led us..."
"..."
"Back then, our forces didn't have proper siege equipment either. We were completely underprepared. And yet Commander Zepar smashed through the gates of the Blue Fortress right before our eyes."
Dantalion was right.
The Eighth Crescent Alliance Army. The Plains Faction needed to break through the Black Mountains as quickly as possible. At the time, Zepar—the sixteenth-ranked Demon Lord serving as vanguard commander—had boldly abandoned the cumbersome siege equipment altogether.
Instead, Zepar had used the ogres as living battering weapons. He made the ogres carry massive siege rams on their backs. The ogres literally hurled their bodies at the gate. The Blue Fortress, which had guarded the Human Realm for over a thousand years, fell after the fifth ogre's charge.
However, Laura hesitated.
"Our forces don't have any ogres. Didn't we spend them all in the opening phase of the battle?"
A soft chuckle was heard.
"Victories and losses are a natural part of war. If leading us to victory is the commander's duty, then preparing for defeat is equally the commander's responsibility, Laura. Seventy ogres are lying in ambush behind our lines."
"What...!"
Laura's green eyes went wide.
"You set aside seventy ogres on your own, my lord!"
"Not just on the day Salzburg fell—I summoned a few every chance I got. That's part of the reason our march slowed down."
"I had no idea..."
Laura started to say something, but the words caught in her throat.
Rather than an exclamation, a question circled inside her mouth. Why? Why did her lord prepare stratagems that would only prove useful in the event of defeat—and solely in the event of defeat?
Consul Elisabeth had been the very same. She'd pre-deployed a special unit that could only be used after a defeat. Now her lord had displayed the exact same mindset as that detestable Republic Consul. Laura found it unbearably lonely.
Because Laura had ultimately failed to grasp the Consul's intentions. And now Dantalion was showing the same incomprehensible behavior. Then, Laura thought. Does that mean I fail to understand my lord as well?
An indescribable sorrow drenched Laura's heart. The one who stood closest to her lord was her. The blade that swung most faithfully for her lord was also her. Laura had believed this. That belief had never wavered.
But the moment Elisabeth was mentioned, Laura was seized by anxiety.
And that anxiety was now manifesting as reality.
"My lord. If you had added seventy ogres, we could have won battles far more easily. Even granting that you need to prepare for defeat, isn't it against military doctrine to be so generous with resources in battles where victory isn't assured?"
"Of course it is."
A voice steeped in fatigue and pain answered.
"But the opponent is Elisabeth, isn't it?"
"..."
"In the last war and in this one, we've been moving our forces with full knowledge of each other's strategies. That actually simplifies things. But there's always the possibility she'll deploy something I haven't imagined—some means I failed to anticipate."
Tight.
Laura's chest constricted.
"But... your lord has me. Even if something unexpected happens, I'm confident I can respond adequately."
Laura desperately feigned composure.
You said I was the best, didn't you? Laura pleaded silently.
That Laura was always the best to him, that Laura was more remarkable than Elisabeth—Dantalion had surely said so. He had embraced Laura in his broad arms and whispered it gently. Laura had drawn her happiness solely from Dantalion's recognition.
So why had he prepared for the possibility of her defeat?
'I will absolutely defeat the Consul. And my lord... my lord believed that too, didn't he? He told me he believed in me, didn't he?'
Laura's expression twisted in pain.
Hoping desperately that no trace of emotion could be detected in her voice, Laura spoke. But she couldn't stop herself from clutching Dantalion's hand.
"My lord. It wasn't strictly necessary... to prepare for the case that I would lose, was it?"
"I have to prepare for the worst-case scenario. I simply cannot overlook the possibility that I'm wrong. For instance, a dragon could suddenly appear from the sky and aid Elisabeth."
Cough. The sound of his hacking rang out ominously once more.
"The same applies to Elisabeth. Seventy ogres are a variable she couldn't possibly have anticipated. That tips the scales."
"..."
So.
'My lord believes in the Consul's competence more than he believes in my victory.'
Even more than that.
'He trusts the Republic Consul's abilities more than my own.'
Silence fell for a time.
Laura opened and closed her lips several times. Each time her lips parted, a faint sting pricked at the corners of her eyes. If she let her guard down now, the tears would fall. Laura didn't want to cry in front of her lord sitting in his sickbed. She didn't want to make him worry needlessly by letting him hear her sobbing.
Perhaps it was something to be grateful for. Laura was accustomed to composing her expression and voice in front of Dantalion. She had constantly striven to become the kind of woman her lord could love.
"...Yes. My lord truly is remarkable."
Laura managed to say it with a bright smile.
She had never stated it explicitly herself, but Laura knew that Dantalion was deeply drawn to wise women. Lapis Lazuli, whom Dantalion loved, was like that. From the day she'd realized it, Laura had spent every break reading every scholarly text she could find.
Laura also knew that Dantalion longed to stand tall on his own terms and loved women who embodied that same strength. Barbatos, whom Dantalion loved, was like that. From the day she'd noticed, Laura had suppressed every impulse to cling to Dantalion, every desire to demand and confirm his affection—all of it.
A wise, magnanimous woman.
To match Dantalion's ideal, she had constantly trimmed herself down, cut away, and carved off.
"It's nothing remarkable. I'm simply preparing for the worst-case scenario."
"No. To me, my lord is remarkable. Always..."
Laura rose from her seat.
Staying any longer would only bring up more unpleasant thoughts. I can't let that happen, Laura told herself. Her lord disliked gloomy women. He disliked having affection demanded of him openly. So she had to hold back.
Because she had to remain the best in her lord's eyes, to the very end.
"My lord has laid the groundwork for victory. I will march our forces and take Munich at once. Don't worry. The Republic will lose their precious capital before the sun sets today."
"Ah. I trust you, Laura."
The sick man slowly closed his eyes.
"I'm feeling rather tired. I'll rest my eyes for a moment..."
"Mm. Rest well. When you open your eyes, I will have already fulfilled your orders."
Laura pressed her lips to his forehead. But she could neither savor nor even feel the touch of the kiss. She couldn't focus on anything else, terrified that tears might overflow at any moment. Unlike usual, she felt no warmth in the kiss. Laura hurried out of the tent.
"Ah..."
The moment she stepped past the tent's entrance, tears streamed down Laura's cheeks.
Laura covered her face with both hands. Tears seeped through the gaps between her fingers. Ah, ah—Laura fought to stifle her sobs, forcing the sounds down. She sank to her knees on the bare ground and wept without a sound.
Why hadn't she been born like Lapis?
Why, despite all her efforts, couldn't she reach the same position as Consul Elisabeth?
Laura was everything to Dantalion. But Laura was not everything to Dantalion. From that realization, unbearable shame and grief flooded in. To rid herself of these feelings, Laura had even deliberately become Barbatos's lover.
But Dantalion had actually been pleased by Laura's infidelity.
There was no jealousy, no possessiveness whatsoever.
The only one tormented by self-loathing was Laura.
'My lord is cruel... my lord is far too cruel...'
Laura wept.
Yes.
Preparing for the worst-case scenario was the natural thing to do. So her lord was right, and she—the one feeling sorrow—was wrong.
One must not seek to dominate the other under the pretense of love. So her lord was right, and she—the one shedding tears—was wrong.
Her lord was always right, and only she, Laura, was wrong. It had been that way since the day the fifteen-year-old girl had been taken in by Dantalion. Laura had wished, just once, for her lord to be wrong—for her sake. But that had never happened...
And perhaps it never would.
"Ah... aah..."
Laura clutched her chest. Why did her body hurt so much when it was her heart that was in agony? She couldn't understand. She stared down at the blurry ground through her tears.
'If only Lapis had died.'
Fragmented thoughts drifted in and out between her sobs. They didn't connect all at once. After countless cries and suppressions, after dozens of wails had faded away, those thoughts finally assembled into a single sentence.
'And if the Republic's Consul died too. If Barbatos died too. Then there would be no one but me for my lord. Then I could be not just the best, but the only one for him.'
Laura staggered to her feet.
She knew, of course, that it could never happen.
Her lord would be utterly destroyed by Lapis Lazuli's death alone. The Dantalion she yearned for would not remain. All that would be left is a doll wearing Dantalion's face—nothing but scattered wreckage.
'But at least that ruined empire's princess can die.'
Laura clenched her teeth and lifted her head.
Hostility smoldered in her bloodshot eyes.
'If I kill her, I'll be one step closer to my lord. I won't hand him over to anyone. Never—to anyone.'
Laura strode forward.
A short while later, the order to attack was issued to all forces of the Habsburg Imperial Army.