At Lyle’s mansion in South Baim.
In one of its rooms, three Valkyries were positioned around Monica. The special device Monica had constructed had been loaded into three units, and the first, second, and third units had been activated initially. The room held no particular objects, it was simply a spacious space.
There was a reason for the four to be gathered in such a room, surrounding Monica. The first unit spoke in turn.
“From the Zayin sector, we have absorbed the territory in the south. Troops have advanced and are now stationed there.”
“From the Rolfis sector, we have absorbed the territory in the south. However, we lack the personnel to manage it. A request for support is being made.”
“Units that had been conducting raids in various locations have begun to reassemble. However, some Landed Nobilities and mercenary bands are continuing the raids.”
The information obtained by the Valkyries deployed in Baim was compiled by Monica via Lyle. That role had also been assigned to these three.
The three special units—the Valkyries—had their performance enhanced thanks to the efforts of Damian and Ratarta.
Therefore, they had been given roles as upper-level Automatons.
Monica gathered that information and sent the consolidated report to Lyle. Otherwise, even Lyle couldn’t process it. The sheer volume of information had led to Monica being entrusted with managing the Valkyries.
“As expected, they will not fight alone. Predictable, but troublesome. Also, have the Rolfis sector hold its ground. Currently, we have no leeway to redeploy personnel. Disband the Alette squad and order your subordinates to be assigned as commanders. There is no time for talk of small elite forces.”
Because Rolfis had been disadvantaged up to now, it had maintained a strategy focused on a small, elite force. However, that was now becoming a problem. The first unit reported on the movement of Redant Fortress.
“There is movement at Redant Fortress. It has begun preparations to invade Baim.”
The second unit conveyed the situation in the Baim sector.
“In Baim, the urban population is surging due to the influx of refugees. There is no indication they intend to sortie.”
The third unit concluded.
“From South Baim, Alette’s squad, Miranda’s squad, and Baldoa’s squad have each sortied with forces of approximately five hundred. They are advancing on the villages surrounding South Baim.”
Monica consolidated that information and sent a summary to Lyle.
“The Chicken’s sortie preparations are also falling into place. Shall we rush the final confirmation of the designated locations?”
All it took was for Monica and the others to stay put, and they were already playing a crucial role in this battle.
It was a baronial house with over six thousand troops that had invaded the southern part of Baim.
That said, the baron's own soldiers numbered only half of that—three thousand. The rest were made up of vassals and mercenary companies, and it was those vassals and mercenary companies that were raiding the villages.
They showed no signs of withdrawing. It seemed they intended to pillage down to the last scrap. They had occupied the south and were ransacking freely, able to do as they pleased since they wouldn't run into any other Baim lords.
One such unit.
A contingent assembled from several Knight Baron houses, each fielding dozens of soldiers, was attacking a small village. They had rounded up the villagers in one place, torn through the village, and were mercilessly cutting down anyone who resisted—breaking the will of those who remained.
One of the Knight Barons spoke.
"Where's the challenge? If something like this happened in my village, even the women and children would pick up weapons and come at you."
Another Knight Baron, who had been listening with a grin, replied.
"Says the man whose wife once chased him around with a spear. But you're right—there's no sport in it. And yet the haul's been fantastic. I can't stop laughing."
They numbered fewer than two hundred altogether, but to a village with only a handful of defenders, they were nothing short of a terror.
Just then, a soldier came running up to the assembled Knight Barons.
"A messenger! There is an army heading this way! Their numbers exceed five hundred!"
The Knight Barons stared at the messenger, momentarily dumbfounded by what he was saying. The reason was simple: Baim had no soldiers worth mentioning. And they hadn't seen any adventuring companies of that size since arriving in Baim either.
They couldn't understand why such a force would show up now of all times.
"Could it be a misidentification on our side? Perhaps it's one of the Baron's own units heading here?"
The messenger's face was desperate.
"The banners are different! Besides—they're coming from even further south!"
One of the Knight Barons stroked his chin.
"South Baim, is it? I remember the mercenaries mentioning something about it being established recently."
One of the Knight Barons spoke up, as if suddenly remembering something.
"I heard House Walt has a son. Apparently, he was even kicked out of the adventurer's Guild. He supposedly performed well at Ledant Fortress, but in the end, it's just a gathering of adventurers. They're no match for us... so what do we do?"
Looking around, they hadn't loaded any of the plundered supplies onto their horses yet. The Knight Barons thought it over for a moment.
"...We retreat. They outnumber us. I won't say we'd lose, but there's no gain in taking casualties here. Set the village on fire immediately."
He gave the order, but the messenger spoke up.
"We can't! The enemy is already right on us—"
In an instant, the messenger's head had been pierced clean through—helmet and all—by an arrow. Why hadn't he reported that sooner! But the messenger was already dead before the words could leave his lips. The Knight Barons drew the swords at their hips and saw soldiers bearing unfamiliar banners bearing down on them from horseback.
"They have horses!?"
In Baim, most mercenaries were former adventurers. Because of that, few among them used horses. Adventurers who did use horses mainly did so for hauling cargo, and the Knight Barons were seeing an enemy cavalry force for the first time.
But one of the Knight Barons spoke.
"That's impossible! That banner—that's Kartafus!!"
A knight in red armor was cutting through their allied soldiers like a hot blade through butter—and behind him, banners fluttered in the wind, among them one bearing an emblem they had never seen before. A blue circle with a silver pattern. And mixed in among them were the banners of Kartafus itself.
Kartafus—a nation that had been locked in a long-standing conflict with Banseim, a country that knew war. The Knight Barons went pale in an instant. One look at the mounted knights brandishing lances from horseback was enough to tell they were elites.
"Retreat! Retreat now!!"
While their allies were still scattered in isolated skirmishes, the Knight Barons ran toward where their horses were tethered. But the knight in red armor who had been leading the charge appeared directly in their path.
"This one—she's a woman?!"
The Knight Barons, swords drawn, slashed at the female knight in red armor. But she drove her lance through them, cutting them down and tearing them apart. After cutting down the armored knights in an instant, mounted knights gathered around her.
Among them were two knights in blue armor with black hair and red eyes.
"Lady Aria, some of the soldiers have fled."
"Leave them be. Those are the orders."
Around them, Karthafus's knights and soldiers clashed with Banseim's forces, but the outcome was already decided. On the Banseim side, soldiers who had been fighting three-on-one were soon surrounded by four, five enemies at a time, until they finally gave up resisting altogether.
Once the area was confirmed secure, Aria removed her helmet.
"...I really don't feel great about this."
Watching the fallen Knight Barons, Aria murmured to herself.
Meanwhile, Miranda had led South Baim's soldiers into the third village.
The central square. There, the baronet household's supply wagons, horses, and stockpiled goods from the battle were all gathered. She sat atop a wooden crate, with two Valkyries stationed nearby.
Around Miranda, Baim's soldiers were cleaning up the scattered corpses of Banseim's troops.
Miranda turned her gaze to the village chief standing before her. The man, who served as both village head and a merchant based in the village, was griping at Miranda.
"Why didn't you come help sooner! Because of you, the village suffered damage! Compensate us! Pay for the damage!"
Miranda stared at the man with a blank expression, legs crossed as she sat.
"Wh-what is with that attitude! Don't you people know I have connections with one of Baim's most prominent merchants!"
The villagers around them shot accusatory glances at Miranda and her forces. But Miranda didn't flinch. She rose from the crate.
"This place is a backwater. We're pulling out. We're taking the cargo that's here."
The village chief grabbed at Miranda's green armor—its blue mantle.
"W-wait! That's their cargo! We need it for rebuilding the village! We're the ones who were hurt! Besides, you were supposed to protect us!"
Miranda seized the mantle the chief was gripping and yanked it free from his hands.
"From now on, you'll have to protect yourselves. Sorry, but I have no interest in you. And for the record, I have no obligation either. After all, we're from South Baim. That should make the meaning perfectly clear, shouldn't it?"
The village chief's mouth hung open, sputtering. He had probably assumed they were adventurers dispatched from Baim, or perhaps a band of mercenaries. No—he wanted to believe that.
Miranda addressed the Valkyries.
"How's Aria doing?"
"They are currently heading toward the second village."
Hearing this, Miranda was slightly exasperated. She was exasperated because it sounded exactly like Aria.
"She's a little behind schedule. She probably wasted time trying to talk them into something, didn't she? So like her. How about Baldoa?"
Another Valkyrie answered.
"He engaged the advancing troops in battle. He won the field engagement and is now heading toward the target village. He is following orders as instructed, and it appears he will reach his objective ahead of schedule."
Miranda looked pleased.
"He's capable. I'd love to marry off Doris or Lucy to him to secure an alliance, but something tells me that would just cause trouble instead."
Glancing at the anxious villagers, Miranda quickly decided to move on to her next destination. She hadn't left South Baim just to save one small village. She was waiting for bigger prey to make its move. Or perhaps for them to flee.
"So, how is our main target—the Count—looking?"
At Miranda's words, the Valkyrie spoke.
"We believe the information has already reached him. However, there are no signs of him attempting to flee."
Miranda laughed.
"Oh my, and his numbers have thinned so much. Yet he's sitting there unbothered."
The Valkyrie continued.
"He doesn't appear to have an accurate grasp of his losses. Besides, he likely doesn't perceive South Baim as a threat. It's not that the Count is particularly incompetent. We estimate he simply had bad luck and wasn't capable enough."
If he had fled, his life might have been spared. But fleeing to rejoin the main army would have branded him a coward in the eyes of those around him. Knowing that was precisely why Miranda and the others had sortied to face the Count in battle.
"The Count should make excellent bait."
Miranda donned her helmet, hiding the grin floating on her face from those around her—.
Making South Baim appear to be a threat.
But she couldn't afford to have a three-hundred-thousand-strong army come crashing down on them.
That was why I wanted them to only send over a force at a scale we could handle.
To that end, I had set up operations within Banseim's ranks. It worked out, and now I was about to sortie with a full six thousand soldiers.
The ideal scenario for us would be to defeat the earl who had invaded the south with his pillaging force, then have Banseim dispatch an additional portion of their troops. The main army would press on with the assault on Baim while we handled things on our end.
Novem moved to my side.
"Lyle, everything is ready."
Novem was carrying a staff, but she was clad in armor. It would be a problem if she were targeted by making it blatantly obvious she was a mage. I looked ahead and spotted Clara in unfamiliar armor, standing beside Porter.
"...Wouldn't it be better if I rode a horse? You know, as the commanding officer."
I grumbled to Novem, but she wouldn't hear of it.
"Absolutely not. Besides, your horse has been lent out to Aria. We're short on supplies, so please just accept it."
I slumped my shoulders. From inside the Jewel, I heard the Seventh Generation's voice.
"Well, ideally Lyle wouldn't lift a finger. If the general is out there swinging a sword, this war is already lost."
That was a fair point. And I did have the track record to back it up — soldiers would follow me without me having to push to the front lines. There was no need to force myself out there.
However, the Third Generation chimed in.
"Just rest easy until the real opponent shows up. Delegating to those around you is part of a general's job."
The Fifth Generation murmured.
"At what point will I ever have any free time to spare... No matter how you look at it, things are only going to get crazier from here. Sigh."
Mireia looked apologetic toward the Fifth Generation.
"...Father, please don't be so down. It hurts my heart. Lyle, when you have the time, please make sure to give the Fifth Generation a proper send-off, okay?"
When you say things like that, the difficulty just keeps going up, doesn't it? For some reason, I was starting to feel sorry for the Fifth Generation.