Queen Henrietta rode out ahead with the cavalry.
The cavalry, which had launched charge after charge throughout the night, had been brutally reduced to the role of a forced march. Their armor was dented and battered. The warhorses had exhausted their stamina over the span of two hours. Still, the cavalry of Bretagne summoned their strength once more.
"We must enter Parisiorum ahead of the enemy!"
The two armies raced each other with the River Marne between them. Bretagne's cavalry were famous for their speed. All else being equal, they had nothing to worry about when it came to arriving late compared to the enemy.
But Queen Henrietta already knew that they were running far too late.
First, the Bretagne army had only just begun marching. The Demon Lord's forces, on the other hand, had units that had already completed the crossing and departed ahead of time. Factoring in the roughly two hours the battle had consumed, the Demon Lord's army had moved a full two hours earlier than they had.
Second, the Batavia Republic's forces had not participated in the battle just now at all. More precisely, not a single human soldier had been seen. Even if the bulk of the enemy army was composed of demons, how could there not be a single human in sight?
They had not taken part in the battle. That meant there was only one possible conclusion.
'The Republic's forces were part of the crossing unit.'
Queen Henrietta drove her horse forward as the thought struck her. Why had they ferried the human soldiers across first? Considering that the enemy's objective was Parisiorum, the answer came easily.
'To enter the city safely.'
If a unit composed of Monsters attempted to enter Parisiorum, the citizens would be thrown into utter chaos. Even if they swore up and down that they would never pillage, insisting that they were not the Demon Lord's army but an army of fellow humans, the soldiers' faces were that of Orcs. It would be more strange if the citizens were not terrified.
That was why they had sent the human units across first. So that the citizens would accept their entry peacefully.
"Dantalion!"
From the very beginning, the enemy had perfectly divided their roles. The high-combat demon units were deployed on the battlefield. While these units engaged the Bretagne forces, the human units—low in combat power but politically useful—marched toward the city.
It was often said that war was merely politics by other means, but this was taking it too far. The battle unfolding tonight was nothing more than a smokescreen. The true objective was to enter Parisiorum. Beyond that, to seize the Emperor and the Empress Dowager. The enemy had nothing but political objectives from start to finish.
"Your Majesty, we are almost there."
The voice of the cavalry commander pulled Queen Henrietta from the sea of her thoughts.
The Bretagne cavalry had reached the outskirts of Parisiorum. The elapsed time was forty minutes. They had sprinted at maximum speed, ignoring the stamina of their warhorses entirely.
"Open the gates!"
"The master of Bretagne stands before you!"
The standard-bearers raised their banners high. The black lilies symbolizing Bretagne fluttered in the wind.
The soldiers guarding the eastern gate of Parisiorum were startled. They hurriedly opened the gates. But the drawbridge could only descend at its own sluggish pace.
"You useless fools! Can't you lower it any faster!"
"S-Sorry, sir. But if we lower it any faster, the bridge might break..."
The cavalry commanders berated the guards.
The Bretagne soldiers were obviously driven by anxiety. It was only natural. A ruler's state of mind is contagious among subordinates. As Queen Henrietta grew psychologically pressured, that tension spread to her officers and soldiers alike.
"...Haaah."
Henrietta noticed, from the way her subordinates were treating the guards, that she had been rushing too much. A ruler was supposed to be calm and composed at all times. She had momentarily forgotten even such a basic principle.
Henrietta deliberately settled her mind. She scanned the city walls rather than the drawbridge.
'There are too few soldiers guarding the walls. The banners got folded by the wind and no one even bothered to spread them out.'
Whether a banner was properly unfurled or sloppily crumpled — you could gauge a unit's discipline from that alone. Right now, across the walls, banners lay crumpled in disarray everywhere. It meant they had no time to spare for something as trivial as flags.
Moreover, despite dawn gradually breaking, the sentries were far too few. The eastern gate was being held by a skeleton crew. In other words, something had happened somewhere in Parisiorum, and soldiers had been redeployed there.
'The Republican forces have likely seized the southern part of Parisiorum, or at least occupy a portion of it.'
And perhaps the Empress Dowager or the Emperor had escaped from their secondary palace and joined them there...
If the Republican forces had captured part of the city, it was time to prepare for battle. This was the last chance, before the Demon Lord's main army had yet to arrive.
— Clank.
The drawbridge finally came down.
Just as the cavalry prepared to spur their horses, Henrietta addressed the soldiers.
"Men. We have arrived here doing our very best. I guarantee you, there is no army on this continent faster than ours. If we're still late, the blame lies with the heavens — not with you, and not with anyone else."
"……."
The cavalrymen looked at their queen. Her face was soaked with fatigue, yet her eyes burned with vivid life.
Impatience breeds mistakes, and mistakes lead to defeat in battle. This is precisely why elite soldiers regard the restless heart as the most dangerous of all — all the more so as their skill grows.
Whether soldiers grow impatient or not depends on their commander. What a commander needs is the soldiers' trust. Even if the tide of battle turns against them, they must feel that "as long as she commands us, there is nothing to worry about" — a bond that borders on fanaticism.
To kindle that bond, Henrietta spoke.
"Our homeland is a cramped little peninsula. The land is crusted with salt, making even farming a struggle. Our ancestors have long yearned to push outward onto the continent, into Franc. A wish passed down for a full seven hundred years — and you, of all people, have fulfilled it."
"……."
"In other words, you are the strongest force in the history of Bretagne."
Henrietta pulled off her helmet and held it high above her head.
"Who would have ever imagined that a tiny peninsular nation could rule the continent! But we — Bretagne — have made it possible! No matter what hardships befall us, Bretagne will never break! Isn't that right, men!"
The cavalrymen raised their helmets and roared.
"Long live Bretagne!"
"Long live the Queen!"
Cheer after cheer erupted. Officers and non-commissioned officers alike grasped the queen's intent and answered her with fervent enthusiasm. As they shouted their cries in unison, the impatience draining from the soldiers' hearts, Henrietta nodded and crossed the drawbridge.
"We welcome the glory of Bretagne."
On the other side of the drawbridge, the gatekeeper greeted Henrietta. He was no Francian — he was a Breton. It was proof of just how deeply Henrietta had seized Parisiorum to its very core.
"Good work. Report."
"Yes. The eastern gate of Parisiorum is currently showing no anomalies whatsoever."
"……?"
Henrietta furrowed her brow.
"No anomalies? Where did all the sentries disappear to?"
"Ah, well about that."
The gate commander spoke with an awkward expression.
"A large fire broke out in the city. The garrison urgently requested reinforcements, so I dispatched soldiers at my own discretion."
"……?"
Without warning, a nameless sense of unease spread through Henrietta's chest.
Whether he noticed or not, the gate commander continued reporting in a matter-of-fact manner.
"As a result, we were momentarily lax in our watch, but the soldiers have since returned safely and are resting at the barracks. We remain fully prepared to deploy at a moment's notice should an emergency arise."
"……The fire? What caused it?"
"They say a fire broke out on the merchant ships moored at the dock. Fortunately, there appear to be almost no casualties."
The gate commander wore a proud expression.
Despite an unexpected incident occurring during wartime, the city garrison and the gate guard had cooperated to respond swiftly. There were no casualties. It was a splendidly handled situation that could have easily spiraled into major chaos. The gate commander must have considered this a chance to earn direct praise from Her Majesty the Queen.
But contrary to the gate commander's thoughts, the queen's expression only grew stiffer.
"Anything besides that? Nothing else happened in the city?"
"No, ma'am. To my knowledge, there were no other incidents aside from the fire."
"……?"
Henrietta pressed her hand to her forehead.
Judging from the gate commander's tone, the Republican forces hadn't even approached Parisiorum. If the southern gate had been breached or at least besieged, a report would naturally have been filed.
Another possibility was that the Empress Dowager or the Emperor had used the confusion of the fire to escape, but… that wasn't it either. Naturally, Henrietta had personally seen to it that guard forces were stationed at the secondary palace. Should the Empress Dowager or the Emperor attempt to flee, they were instructed to immediately request cooperation from the gates to the east, west, south, and north.
Then the answer could only be one of two possibilities.
The garrison at the secondary palace had been perfectly massacred without even a moment to request reinforcements, allowing the Empress Dowager and the Emperor to slip away somewhere unnoticed—.
"...Where exactly did those Republican bastards go?"
—Or the enemy had never come to Parisiorum in the first place.
Henrietta led the Imperial Guard into the city. As the cavalry passed through the main avenue in the dead of dawn, the citizens watched them with gazes full of curiosity and unease. Henrietta had no time to reassure the people and headed straight for the secondary palace.
When she asked whether the Emperor and the Empress Dowager were safe, the commander of the secondary palace's garrison answered firmly.
"Of course, Your Majesty. They are being guarded as tightly as iron."
"..."
Just to be sure, Henrietta ordered their safety verified. A short while later, the ladies-in-waiting returned and reported that there were no problems whatsoever.
Henrietta murmured.
"So it really was just a fire."
She couldn't make sense of it.
The Demon Lord's army had had the opportunity to seize Parisiorum's southern gate. They could have at least laid siege. They could have colluded with the Frankish nobles and easily smuggled out the Empress Dowager or the Emperor. But reality was entirely different. The Frankish nobles hadn't stirred up any trouble, and the southern gate hadn't been besieged...
Every possibility had been eliminated, leaving only the question. Where had the Republican forces vanished to?
Henrietta looked down at the map with weary eyes. Her mind had gone blank.
'After going through all that danger to cross the river, only to miss Parisiorum as their objective — what were they thinking? ...Could it be that their sole purpose was to lure the Green Rose Knights to their annihilation? But that would have been far too grand a maneuver for just that...Wait — purpose?'
Henrietta froze.
'What if Parisiorum wasn't the objective?'
Henrietta's gaze traced the course of the river. And then it stopped at a certain point on the map.
Silence.
Henrietta kept her head bowed for a long while before slowly raising it. The sky had fully turned to dawn. In the distance, dim sunlight was breaking through.
How much time had passed?
An attendant approached and reported that a messenger had arrived in haste from the Habsburg Republic. In the document the messenger had delivered, there were words scrawled in Consul Elisabeth's own hand. It was a handwritten note consisting of only two sentences.
—Provisions depot. You need to be cautious.
A crinkle. The paper crumpled in Henrietta's hand.
Henrietta looked up at the sky. The corners of her mouth twisted grotesquely, as though she had tried to smile and failed. From between her lips, a murmur close to a groan escaped.
"...You sent me two hours too late, Élise."
At that same moment.
Flying over the fortress where Bretagne's provisions depot was located was the flag of the Batavia Republic.
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
I've uploaded a map to the settings section.