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Slightly before that, there was an uproar in Georg Carmine's castle over the
sudden surprise attack. There were many different rumors flying back and forth in
the castle.
Had Castor Vargas betrayed them?
Had the king and Castor Vargas been colluding behind the scenes?
No, wasn't the one who had plotted all this, in fact, Excel Walter, that capable
woman and veteran of many battles?
...That was how it went, with various theories bandied about, but no one guessed
the truth: that Souma had pulled a trick that had let him defeat the Air Force in a
single day.
The ones who made the most noise about these events were the ones who had
exhausted their personal troops in the battle against the fortress yesterday and who
had been removed from the front line today, the corrupt nobles who had been
resting in Randel Castle. As soon as they found out that the large explosion had been
due to an aerial bombardment by the Air Force, they rushed to the governmental
affairs office, where Georg Carmine was doing the work of governing despite the
ongoing situation.
"Duke Carmine! What are you doing, taking things so easily during this crisis?!"
one of them exclaimed.
"The Air Force has betrayed us! We must come up with a plan of action at once!"
"Give us your orders, please! What are we to do?"
As the nobles worked themselves into a frenzy and shouted all manner of verbal
abuse at him, Georg's wolf-headed lieutenant, Beowulf, who was here at this very
moment to report on the bombing, furrowed his brow in anger. He was about to
draw the sword at his hip to respond to the affront, but...
"Beowulf," Georg addressed him.
"Yes, sir!" He stood at attention.
Georg asked him in a calm tone, "What is the extent of the damage from the aerial
bombardment just now?"
"Sir," he said. "The bombardment on the castle only blasted away a portion of the
roof and towers. Fortunately, there were few casualties. However, we've lost every
one of the anti-air repeating bolt throwers on the castle walls. The soldiers assigned
to guard the walls are in a state of panic and confusion."
"I see..."
Georg showed no sign of a change in his expression at Beowulf's report, but the
nobles who were listening went ghastly pale. The loss of the anti-air repeating bolt
throwers meant the loss of any ability to oppose the wyvern cavalry. The Army now
had no means to stop the Air Force's bombardment. In other words, even if they
attempted to hold out inside the castle, they would be one-sidedly bombed to death.
Georg stroked the beard that had merged with his mane. "In short, everyone in
this castle is now their hostage."
"Yes, sir. That would appear to be the case."
When he heard Beowulf's response, the corners of Georg's mouth rose as he said,
"Then this battle is our loss."
He accepted his defeat so easily that the corrupt nobles did not understand what
he had said for a moment.
They had lost.
The moment they managed to process that, their faces all turned red or blue and
they rounded on Georg.
"Wh-What are you saying, Duke Carmine?! We've not lost yet!"
"Indeed! The army is still practically unharmed! There is ample opportunity to
turn things around!"
"If we have no anti-air repeating bolt throwers, we need only retreat to a city that
has them! Let's plan our comeback and face the king and the Forbidden Army there!"
"...You would have me abandon Randel?" Georg said with a tone of exasperation
as he looked at the nobles who were saying they would resist to the last. "What is a
ruler if he casts aside his subjects? If a lord flees and deserts his people, surely the
people of another city will never accept him."
"What are you saying?!" one of the nobles exclaimed. "Subjects are those who
have no choice but to obey the victor! Even if they're discontented for a time, so long
as you win in the end, they will yield to you on their own!"
"Indeed! Platitudes are only worth something if we live! First, we must think of a
way to survive!" another cried.
As he listened to the nobles who, even now, were only concerned with their own
well-being, Georg let out a sigh.
"In the end, the only ones you fear for are yourselves. Ah, but now I recall, you
people were like that from the beginning. Honestly... in the short time since we last
fought a foreign enemy, I never would have expected our roots to rot so badly. As I
thought, in order for the new buds to flourish, first the rotting leaves and branches
must be cleared away."
"Duke Carmine? What are you saying...?"
The nobles were bewildered by the sudden change in Georg's demeanor.
Georg paid them no heed, ordering his lieutenant, "Beowulf. Do it as we planned."
"...Yes, sir," Beowulf said.
When Beowulf raised his right hand, suddenly soldiers rushed into the room,
swords drawn, and surrounded the nobles. With twenty to thirty soldiers holding
them at sword point, the nobles who were unable to move finally realized they'd
been deceived by Georg. They were stripped of their weapons and forced into slave
collars one after another.
"What is the meaning of this, Duke Carmine?!" one of them exclaimed.
"You wouldn't, Duke Carmine! Do you mean to turn over our heads to beg the
king to spare your own?!" another one screamed.
"Th-This isn't fair!" a third one shouted.
"Curse you! This is dirty, Georg Carmine!"
When he heard the nobles still talking like that, Georg sighed once more in
disappointment. "I take offense at the suggestion that I am anything like you people.
...Take them away."
The bound nobles were led out of the room by the soldiers.
Some tried to resist, but having already been forced into slave collars, their
master Beowulf merely willed for the collars to constrict, knocking them
unconscious.
Even once the door was closed and they were out of sight, they could still be
heard cursing Georg foully from the corridor. After a little while, those voices faded
and at last Georg returned to his seat. Then, exhaling deeply, he asked Beowulf a
question.
"What has become of their personal troops and the Zemish mercenaries?"
"Sir, they are being detained by our forces as we speak."
Hearing Beowulf's response, Georg nodded in satisfaction. Then, as if casting off
the stern mask he had worn all this time, a gentle smile came to his face.
"I have done as I sought to. Now, I have no regrets in this world."
In contrast to Georg, who looked bright and cheerful, Beowulf bore a look of
agony.
When he thought of what he had to do now, it must have weighed on him heavily.
Georg understood how Beowulf felt, so he gave the order as calmly as he could.
"Now then, Beowulf. Could I ask that you do the same for me?"
"...Yes, sir." He showed a moment's hesitation, but Beowulf wrapped a slave collar
around Georg's neck, as well.
Even though he was receiving a death collar that would force him into absolute
subservience to his new master, Georg wore a calm expression, like he might when
asking his wife to adjust the fancy bow-tie he intended to wear to a wedding
reception. With the slave collar wrapped around his neck, Georg now gave his final
order as General of the Army.
"Dispatch a messenger to deliver our surrender to the Forbidden Army and place
yourself at His Majesty's command. All of the men and officers, with the exception of
the corrupt nobles and their troops, acted only under my orders. I bear
responsibility for all their crimes. From here on... I leave things to you and Glaive. Do
I make myself understood?"
"...Yes, sir. I will do so at once." Beowulf saluted him and left the room.
After watching him go, Georg opened the bottom drawer of the office desk.
Inside was a bottle of wine from the year Princess Liscia had been born. It had
been given to him by the former king, Albert, with the request, "No matter what
should happen, I want you to protect my daughter." He had held onto it dearly ever
since that day.
After Liscia's graduation from the officers' academy, during the time when he had
kept her at his side, he had often told her, "On the day of your wedding, I intend to
drink myself into a stupor with this wine" with a laugh.
Her marriage... huh, he thought. Not being able to see the princess on her wedding
day is my one regret, but if I think of this as the greatest wedding gift anyone could
offer, it doesn't feel so bad. As for this wine... I will have to ask someone to see that it
makes its way to that young king. Though, as he is the man who stole the princess from
me, I am somewhat loath to do it.
With a self-mocking laugh, he imagined Souma and Liscia standing next to each
other on their wedding day.
Will the king himself enter this castle, I wonder? I would dearly like to meet him in
person and to talk just once.
That was Georg's wish, but what came instead was a messenger.
"Reporting! King Souma did not enter Randel and has already departed leading
the Forbidden Army to the west!"
...was what his report said.
Then, right after that, he also reported that orders had arrived saying, "Once the
army is reorganized under Beowulf and Glaive Magna, they are to follow after the
Forbidden Army at once."
When he received that report, Georg's eyes went wide for a moment.
"If you are to be a great tree blocking my path, I will step over you."
He recalled Souma's face when the young king had said those words. And so,
Georg understood at once. "Gya ha ha! I see, so that was it! The king was looking to
land a big fish of his own!"
Suddenly understanding everything, he let out a hearty laugh.
"I see! I've been used as a stepping stone! Was this the king's plan? Or was it the
Black-robed Prime Minister? Regardless, it was brilliant, young ones! This is the
dawn of a new generation! My time has now ended. Now, my king, my princess!
Hand in hand, step over this old tree and be on your way! Glory to the new buds, and
glory to Elfrieden!"
As he witnessed the end of his own era, Georg blessed it with all his heart.
"Sacrifice the Plum Tree to Preserve the Peach Tree."
That was the stratagem that Georg had followed, achieving the greater victory by
sacrificing himself.