“Well?”
I stood and twirled.
“Absolutely radiant.”
“Like a painting come to life.”
Leila and Tetis showered me with praise.
The reflection was striking—enhanced at least fifty percent by the hair, makeup, and dress. Not that it mattered much, given my average baseline.
“Such flatterers. As a reward, you may join me for breakfast.”
“”We are deeply honored!””
They bowed theatrically as I spoke grandly.
Soon, they brought in the meal: tough black bread and wilted cabbage soup—the same as the soldiers ate—supplemented by eggs, cheese, and fruit, the commander’s privilege.
I shared the extras with them. Meals with these two were my only moments of peace.
As our pleasant breakfast ended, noise rose outside—soldiers emerging for the day.
“Now then, help me into my armor.”
I also prepare myself, asking the two to help me put on the armor.
They assisted me into a pure white cuirass adorned with lily-of-the-valley motifs, matching greaves, and a slender sword at my hip—my simplified military attire.
Normally, one would wear chain mail under the armor, don a helmet, and attach gauntlets and shoulder guards for full protection. However, fully armoring the body makes it too heavy to move, so this outfit is my basic equipment.
Even though it was simple, wearing armor and carrying a sword made me feel tense and focused. As the face of the commander, I stepped out of the tent.
Outside the tent, the twin generals Gran and Lagun were waiting.
“Gran, Lagun. How are the preparations?”
“Everything is completely ready,”
Gran reported in response to my question. Indeed, when I looked around, the soldiers were already lined up in formation.
“Though, there isn’t much for us to do,”
Lagun added shortly from beside Gran.
It was true—Gran and Lagun didn’t have much to do in today’s operation. However, for the sake of appearances before the representatives of other nations, I had ordered the soldiers to stand by in full equipment at the encampment.
With Gran and Lagun in tow, I climbed the circular hill and moved to the command post to oversee the front lines.
At the command post built atop the hill stood Otto, Ben and Bray, Zeze and Zini, Borell and Gatt, Foreman Ganze—the supervisor of the construction work—and Cleat, the captain of the magical troops.
Everyone was present except for Glen and Hans, whom I had entrusted with guarding the encampment, and Kyle, who was handling intelligence.
“Foreman Ganze, are the preparations complete?”
“The explosive magic stones are ready. All workers have been evacuated,”
Foreman Ganze nodded firmly in response to my question.
“Zeze, Zini, Borell, Gatt. What are the movements of the allied nations’ forces?”
I asked the four members of the Rome Squad.
“Yes, Lady Romelia! We just rode out to scout the battlefield!”
“There are no signs of the allied forces on the battlefield. It’s completely empty,”
“The generals of each nation are watching the situation unfold from their respective positions,”
“However, the princes and princesses seem to have gathered at the Hamiel Kingdom’s encampment,”
It was a mystery why the princes and princesses had gathered at the Hamiel Kingdom’s encampment, but I judged it wouldn’t affect us and nodded.
Borel reported on the movements of the generals of each nation, while Gatt reported on the whereabouts of the royal family.
It is a mystery why the princes and princesses of each country are gathering at the Hamiel Kingdom’s camp, but I nodded, judging that it would not have a significant impact.
“Ben, Bray. What about the Demon King’s army?”
“Lady Romelia, there are no notable movements from the Demon King’s army,”
“However, there’s slight activity at the front gate. It seems they’ve prepared their ballistae and catapults,”
Ben and Bray reported in detail in response to my question.
I was satisfied with their report.
The Demon King’s army was acting exactly as we had anticipated. They were, after all, an elite force. They had predicted our strategy and were preparing the most effective countermeasures. The only question was whether my plan would surpass their expectations.
I turned my gaze toward the Ganganruga Fortress, then looked at the command posts of the allied nations built on the circular hills.
Five command posts stood atop the hills, where the representatives of the allied nations were watching me—no, waiting to see me fail.
“Now then, everyone. Let us begin—”
“Please, stop this at once, Lady Romelia!”
Just as I was about to give the order to commence the operation, a voice interrupted me. I turned to see my red-clad secretary, Spiri, standing there.
My secretary looked rather disheveled. Her hair was a mess, and dark circles under her eyes suggested she hadn’t rested well the night before.
“Are you feeling better now, Spiri? You could have rested for the day if you needed to,”
I said, concerned for her well-being after she had collapsed yesterday.
“I can’t rest now. Please, stop this. The attack will fail. Let us apologize to the other nations and return to the Lionel Kingdom. We may lose their trust, but it’s better than losing soldiers’ lives.”
I was impressed by Spiri’s words.
Though she usually seemed the type to say, “Sacrifice as many soldiers as necessary for victory,” she had now concluded that pointless attacks should not waste lives.
“That’s not an option. We’ve prepared for this. I can’t back down now.”
I shook my head, conveying my resolve. Spiri slumped in resignation, realizing further words were useless.
I turned my gaze back to Ganganruga Fortress, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
There had been no oversights in our preparations—the probability of success was high. But ultimately, we wouldn’t know the outcome until we tried. All that remained was to move forward with faith.
Under the banner of the Lion and lily-of-the-valley, I drew my sword and raised it toward the sky.
“Commence the operation!”
With my command, I swung my sword downward—and the battlefield erupted with the sound of explosions.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM
Zephyr of the Hamiel Kingdom sighed as he climbed the circular hill.
From the top, the Ganganruga Fortress loomed imposingly—not just with its towering walls, but with newly developed siege weapons like cranes, catapults, and ballistae, exuding an aura of dread.
As one of the staff officers in the allied forces, Zephyr had been unable to devise a viable strategy to breach the fortress. Just earlier, his father, Zebul, had berated him for it.
“Well, well, Zephyr. Sighing again today?”
Turning toward the voice, Zephyr saw Prince Hughes of the Hurion Kingdom, his sun-tanned skin and golden hair gleaming.
Though this was the Hamiel Kingdom’s encampment, Hughes—true to his reputation as the “playboy prince”—had been wandering between camps under the pretext of diplomacy. Since he and Zephyr were close in age, he often dropped by.
“Prince Hughes, my apologies for not greeting you properly.”
Zephyr bowed his head.
Though the visit was unannounced, he couldn’t point that out to a prince of a major nation. Moreover, General Zebul was pleased with the connection to the Hurion Kingdom and had ordered Zephyr to handle Hughes with care. As a result, half of Zephyr’s duties had become acting as Hughes’s unofficial host.
“I’ve told you, just ‘Hughes’ is fine. So, did you get scolded by the old man again?”
“Yes, I was reprimanded once more today.”
Though Hughes spoke casually, Zephyr remained polite.
“Old man Zebul just has high expectations for you,”
Hughes consoled, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Don’t be so down. You’ve got to impress that person, right?”
“Wh-what?! Lady Romelia has nothing to do with this!”
Zephyr’s face flushed as he denied Hughes’ teasing.
“I’m simply doing my best for the Hamiel Kingdom.”
“I said that person—I never mentioned Lady Romelia.”
Hughes smirked, and Zephyr grimaced.
He had walked right into that trap. But the truth was, Zephyr did harbor feelings for Romelia.
Her soft flaxen hair, gentle face, and determined eyes—he had never met anyone so beautiful. Moreover, she was kind enough to show concern even for someone like him, even offering him a handkerchief when he was injured.
Zephyr slipped his right hand into his pocket.
Inside was the handkerchief Romelia had given him. Though he had returned a new one as thanks, he still carried the original with him every day.
“But I hear a lot of men have their eyes on the Saintess. You’ve got competition,” Hughes remarked.
Zephyr’s face twisted further.
It was true—many men were said to harbor feelings for Saintess Romelia. With her beauty, it was only natural.
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