3

Didn’t make it to the next预告 spot…

Twelve wagons rolled down the road.

You’d think with a move this big, there’d be some strong types—warriors, you know—jumping out to ambush us along the way.

Honestly, I’d love to see any thief bold enough to pick a fight with the infantry squad guarding the flanks, with Armunale leading the way.

It’s about two weeks’ travel by straight line from Raytarki to Belgio’s capital.

But there was an empire between the kingdom and Berjio, and they’d stolen land there—too risky to cut through. So we decided to go around, crossing a stretch of mountains up north, planning to make it in about three weeks.

Thanks to that, we’ve made it this far without getting attacked once, and no weather’s been troublesome—everything’s been going smooth.

We’re already deep inside Berjio, threading through a narrow path cut into the thick, overgrown forest.

Most of Berjio’s roads are like this—thin trails winding through the woods. You’d be lucky to pass a caravan or traveler without nearly bumping shoulders.

Still, that’s why we’re safe from big armies, and why we’re still holding out against the Empire’s invasion. Can’t really complain, can we?

I’m thinking that, walking on, when Bouvier—the scout who’d gone ahead—comes back.

“Something’s off out there. Slow down. Stay sharp.”

“Got it. Call back Catreau. Get everyone on alert.”

If Bouvier’s picking up on something, there’s no doubt trouble’s brewing.

For now, I call back Catreau, the other scout, and signal the whole unit to ease up their pace.

—And I tighten the spacing between the infantry, wipe out the blind spots.

Just then, the rider at the princess’s side brings word.

“Is something wrong with Lady Ines?”

“Scouts sense something off. There’s a chance hostiles are nearby. Tell the princess to stay put in the carriage. Nothing to worry about if it’s just beasts, but we can’t imagine a force this size creeping close.”

“Understood.”

I get it—someone’s targeting this unit specifically. Either the imperial troops creeping in, or some damn bandits.

And just in case, I add one more order.

“Everyone, hold position. No one’s to strike first. Not until they make the move.”

“Got it.”

I send the runner off. Absolute defense. No exceptions.

If the presence here isn’t from the Empire or some thief, then it’s the Berjio army fighting on this field.

We’re out here doing guerrilla work—can’t always be sure we’ve got the latest intel. Something might’ve gotten lost in the shuffle, some message not delivered.

If we end up clashing here with those guerrillas, the Second Princess’s whole reason for coming all this way would be wasted. So we’ve got to be careful.

I’m thinking this through, getting ready, when Monsieur Bnois returns with Catreau.

“Two of them are guarding Orell’s group.”

‘Got it.’

The Second Princess is guarding them too, so our carriage stays close by.

That way we can keep an eye on her movements and shift quick if needed.

Well, is the setup solid now? All that’s left is to wait for the other side to make a move.

The unit moved slowly, the path widening bit by bit.

Checking the map we’d been given beforehand, there looked to be a square-like rest area up ahead.

Maybe we should stop here for a breather. Settle our bones, and we’ll be sharper for whatever comes next.

“We’ll halt here. Might get a reaction from the other side—so we’ll take a good long time. Keep watch, but rotate rest periods.”

“Got it. I’ll pass it on to the whole unit.”

Another courier sent out. We arrived at the square.

It was a small clearing, remnants of felled trees still scattered about. Five Armunale would’ve been pushing it, tight as a drum.

The wagons rolled in and parked neat as pins. The soldiers climbed down, each taking up perimeter watch or settling in for rest.

I scan the surroundings with my camera, but there’s nothing that looks like a person. Still, since Blois and the others aren’t lowering their guard, we’re probably still being watched. That means they’re deep in the woods, all right.

Would be nice if they’d show themselves sooner.

We take a short break, just an hour or so, and are about to head out when, at last, the other side moves.

From all around the forest, clumps of grass burst out—each one holding a spear or crossbow pointed right at us.

“Ghillie suit.”

I’m more stunned by the enemy soldiers’ camouflage than by being surrounded. It’s a proper ghillie suit—thousands of dried grasses woven together, exactly what the name suggests. Makes sense, really. With all that grass covering them, you’d never spot them in the woods.

The soldier here, thanks to orders to stand guard, didn’t so much as flinch—just quietly settled into formation, weapons ready, no sudden moves.

No surprise, really. The kind of calm and quickness you’d expect from a guard unit assigned to a princess.

Then, from inside the green suit, one stepped forward, brushing the grass from their head to reveal their face.

“I am Geos, commander of the Third Unit, Second Defense Division, Kingdom of Belgio! State your affiliation and why you’ve come to our land. Be aware—your answer may decide whether we fight right here, right now.”

Hmm. Well, I figured as much. The way they’d positioned themselves in the woods—had suspected something like this. Looks like Belgio’s army guerrillas, after all.

From the way they’re acting, they haven’t heard us yet—but they’re clearly not Empire or mercenary. Probably just checking, like they’re playing it safe.

Now, should I go out or should the princess? From safety’s point of view, I should answer—but I think she’d get it done quicker. Plus, she’s the one with the entry permit from the border.

Thinking that, I checked the monitor and noticed the princess looking out her carriage window, right at us.

Her finger pointed. *You talk.*

“Got it.”

I murmured low enough the mic wouldn’t catch it, and answered the one waiting on the other end.

“Fate—this is the Fatal Kingdom’s envoy and their escort. We’ve been issued entry permits, so if you need verification, I can show them.”

“The Fatal Kingdom’s envoy?”

The man who called himself Geo tilted his head, glancing at his companions around him.

They all seemed equally clueless, all shaking their heads in unison.

"Just double-checking, if you don’t mind."

"Got it. Ange, you’re up."

I nod to Ange, who rides with the princess in the carriage. She steps down, holding the entry permit. If anything goes sideways, she’ll handle it—she always does.

Ange steps off the carriage, walks over to Geo, and hands him the paper.

Geo takes it, eyes tracking her movements closely as he checks the document.

"Looks genuine. Border Guard seal’s here too."

He gives a quick order to his men, and they lower their weapons.

"Confirmed. Definitely real. My apologies."

He returns the letter to Ange, gives a crisp salute.

I told Ange to get back in the carriage, then kept talking to Geo.

"Does that mean there's a Bergio unit nearby? So the battlefield's close?"

If so, we'd have to change course—or get out of here fast—for the princess's safety.

"No, the main front's much further south. We just got word from a lookout that they spotted the Armunale, so I came to check it out personally."

"Ahh, that explains it."

The Armunale and Abnomule are sticking up out of the trees here—higher than a person's chest, really. A lookout would spot them easy enough.

"I'll pass the word to the other units. You can keep going as is. Should reach the first town in about half a day—"

The sentence cut off mid-speech, swallowed by a sudden explosion.

"What the—?!"

"Got 'em! Didn't think they'd come this far..."

Geo wasn't startled by the explosion itself. He was reacting to something else entirely.

I check the monitor right away—there, where the explosion happened. South of here, just as Geo said, way down past the trees.

Black smoke rises. Birds scatter in every direction, flapping away all at once.

“Sorry—we’re turning back.”

“Enemy… the Empire, I think.”

“Yeah. They’d set traps around their camp. Must’ve triggered one. They’re advancing faster than we thought, but we’ll hold them. Get through while we do.”

Geo gives orders without hesitation. The team dashes into the woods.

They move like they’re made of the forest—fast, quiet. One second they’re there, the next, gone into the trees.

Now, here, I’m faced with two choices.

Or maybe… I don’t really get to choose at all.

One way is to fight alongside them against the imperial forces. The other is to leave quickly, just as they said.

And why can’t I choose? Well—

“My knight! Go ahead!”

Of course it’s going to be like that… I’m supposed to be the princess’s guard, after all. Can’t just let her go off like that, can I?

Still, as a Guard Knight, I should at least argue the point.

“This is their call, I think—we’re still under the princess’s protection, and they’re the experts at fighting in the woods. If I go, I’ll only be in the way, won’t I?”

“Even if the opponent’s Armunale? True, we’ve got ways to counter Armunale and Abnomyle in Belgio. But nothing that’s guaranteed—nothing like slamming one straight into the enemy. The captain already said they’re here, didn’t they? Might be getting pushed hard, if anything. So go see for yourself, my knight.”

“…You want me to interfere in another nation’s war?”

That’s not diplomacy. Not even close.

We’re not even allies with Belgio yet. Jumping in like this? They’d think we’re forcing our favor on them, dragging them into our mess.

Could spark real distrust from Belgio. Other nations might refuse to deal with us altogether—afraid of being owed something they never asked for.

If that happens… all the plans the princesses have been pushing forward? Gone. Just dust.

No need to get involved in the fighting—just scout ahead. That machine of yours, you can see fine from a distance… right? Safe enough, wouldn’t you say?

Ah, I see. That’s what you mean.

Armunale stands out. If it draws near, the Empire’ll have to react.

They’ll figure we’re on Berjio’s side and come at us straight away.

But I was told by the princess not to interfere in battle—just to scout. If they attack me now, I’ll have to take them out. As her guard, I can’t just stand by.

So I’m not doing Berjio a favor. I’m just brushing off the sparks that were about to land on me.

Berjio gets rid of a nuisance without owing anyone a thing, and I clear the path for future talks.

Win-win, wouldn’t you say?

Understood. Your Highness, please proceed to the scheduled town as planned.

Take Ange and Catreia with you. If you're going to be a bit apart, you'll need someone to look after you and keep in touch.

Got it. Ange, ride Catreia's horse and catch up later. Don't get too close, now.

Yes, yes!

Ange jumps down from the carriage and settles right behind Catreia, like she’s been doing it all her life.

The horse doesn’t even flinch—no surprise, not even a twitch. If anything, it’s probably not even noticed she’s there.

Still can’t figure out how strong or quick a support maid really is!

Benois and the others, please come along too. And Eise—protect the Princess with everything you’ve got. No harm, not even a scratch.

Understood. If it’s the master’s order—

Got it. Eld Captain, be careful too.

I’d finished giving orders to my unit and was pushing the machine forward into the combat zone still shaking with explosions.

◇

“Damn it.”

Crouched behind a thick trunk, Captain Meghan of the Second Division’s Second Unit cursed under her breath.

Not three hundred meters away, green machines stood calmly amid the burning forest.

The Imperial Abnomule force.

No sign yet of the Armunale, but reconnaissance had already confirmed their leader was the Armunale.

Couldn’t even target the head—no idea where it was. And the enemy wasn’t even flinching from our attacks.

Trapped, cornered, Meghan barked out orders, voice sharp and loud.

"Bronto throws—aim for the joints! Break it where the armor’s thin! If it’s bare, smash it!"

"Got it!"

A burst of explosions. One of the Abnomyle units collapsed right there, in a heap.

Staggering, barely standing, the others looked dazed.

"Only one? After all that?"

The cost of the gear, the effort—it didn’t add up. Not even close.

That weight pressed down hard on Meghan and the rest. Just as the tension thickened, reinforcements arrived from the north.

"Meagan!"

"Geo? What about that unit they were watching?!"

"Fine. It’s a messenger from Fatal—and his guard. Checked the entry papers myself."

"Ah."

Hearing Geo’s words, she exhaled—finally, a little ease in her chest.

If we get hit from the north too, the Second Defense Division might just break apart. Just knowing that chance has slimmed down a bit… well, that eases the weight in my chest a touch.

“How’s it look over here?”

“Only confirmed six so far—mass-produced models. No head yet. One’s legs are down.”

“Right. We’ll move in, then!”

Following Geo’s orders, the unit fanned out further around the Abnomule, lobbing Bronzos in unison.

The explosion took out another ankle. Still four enemy units left, though.

“Bronzo reserves?!”

Megan pulled two spheres from her waist pouch at Geo’s question.

This was what Bronzo really was—hand grenades filled with magi-liquid.

“Two left. The others?”

“Yeah. We’re synced up. Should be about the same.”

“This front’s being abandoned…?”

“Too soon. We just got them back, didn’t we?”

“But pushing harder’ll just get us killed. Can’t risk her here.”

“…Yeah. You’re right.”

Just as I was about to give the order to fall back—suddenly, the Armunale units froze in place.

Peering closer, they all faced north, alert, tense.

“What’s going on?”

“Check it.”

Geo scrambled up a tree, scanning the direction the Armunale were watching—there, a single Armunale stood, its blade-winged form gleaming.

“That one!?”

Before the shock could settle, the Armunale all raised their left arms in unison and fired their cannons straight at the Armunale.

The shells were pierced midair by blades that hadn’t been there a second before—impaled, then dropped straight into the dirt before they could hit anything.

And a breathless voice comes from Armunale.

Hey, hey—ain’t that risky? I only came over to scout a bit, that’s all.

I’d shout at you, Geo, if I didn’t think you were mad.

But then, the next words made Geo understand why Armunale had come here.

"Can't just stand there and let someone charge in like that—gotta do something, right?"

The machine suddenly surged forward, closing the gap to the Abnomyle units in one leap.

And in a flash, the two Abnomyle craft tore apart at the cockpit, collapsing right where they stood.

And just like that, two more machines went down—only two left now, the ones Geo and the others had knocked out the legs of.

From Armunale, the voice of the pilot reached me—unyielding, sharp, as blades were driven into both machines and the control was seized in an instant.

Now, I’d really like to get back to guarding and scoot on over to the town—oh, shoot, I’ve gone and lost sight of the target, too far off now.

Geor and his men couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the utterly phony performance.

They already knew Eld’s real intentions—why he’d jumped into the fight, the whole charade.

Which was why they accepted their roles as actors so easily.

“Y-you there, Armunale! This is Berjio’s land! Stop that fighting right now! If you resist, we’ve got our own ideas on how to handle that! If you don’t resist, just follow our orders and stay behind us!”

To prove that the Fatal Kingdom and Berjio still weren’t allies, Geor acted like they’d just met for the first time.

Geor’s flawless acting made Armunale’s finger give a thumbs-up.

“Geor… you really sure you’re okay with this?”

Megan looks a little unsure, still trying to catch up, but Geor gives a firm nod.

"Could be… the tide’s turning. He might just be our savior. Either way, let’s get him back to headquarters."

"Got it."

They signal their squad to fall back, guiding Armunale toward their base.

Next time preview

Eld heading toward headquarters with Bellgio’s squad.

There, waiting—bold as ever—was a woman with sun-kissed skin on full display.