Cero scoffed, his expression betraying a hint of barely concealed reluctance. "That's English. Our international language."
Isvel raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Ah, an international language. Quite a lofty title. So, does everyone in your world speak this language?"
"Most, at least enough to communicate," Cero replied, his tone indifferent. "Well, it's up to you. But there's nothing glamorous about our language. Not like yours, where you can create and manipulate magic with just a few words. Honestly, your language feels more like a weapon than a tool for communication."
Isvel chuckled softly, a note of pride in her voice. "You're not wrong. Our language is part of an irreplaceable magical heritage. Every word, every intonation, contains the power of Essentia. But that also makes it much harder to learn. Not everyone can grasp its complexities."
Cero's gaze remained cold and sharp as ever. "And maybe that's why Yundal fell," he said bluntly. "A language too complex to be understood, power accessible to only a select few. You relied too heavily on something inaccessible to everyone."
Isvel's expression hardened. "You don't understand the meaning of culture, Cero. What you call a weakness is our strength. Every word we speak connects us to this world, to the Essentia that flows through it."
"Culture didn't save my kingdom in your world," Cero retorted, his tone icy. "And it won't save anyone here unless you adapt."
Standing from his chair, Cero adjusted his collar and glanced at Isvel, who still lounged casually. "We're wasting time talking about irrelevant matters," he said firmly. "If you truly want to help, meet my subordinates at the military barracks. They need every piece of information you have about the Delos region and how we can confront it."
Isvel studied him intently, her lips curling into a faint smile. "You speak as if this is a simple task, Cero. You know, not all information comes free of charge."
Cero met her gaze without hesitation. "You're not here to bargain. You're here because you need something from me, just as I need something from you. If you want to regain what you've lost, you'll do it my way."
Isvel nodded slowly, though her smile didn't fade. "Alright, Cero. You're quite skilled at manipulating people into following your plans. I'll head to the barracks and see what I can contribute. But remember, this help comes at a price."
Cero held her gaze for a moment longer than usual, then turned toward the door. "A price? You're already here, Isvel. You know I don't give other options." With those final words, he opened the door and strode out confidently.
Back at his desk, Cero sank into his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on the holographic screen of the Modern Generation System hovering before him. The cool blue light from the display illuminated the room, casting an atmosphere of focus and calculation. He knew every step had to be carefully planned, especially with limited resources.
"System," he called out firmly.
[System Active. Ready to serve, Director.]
"Display the total cost analysis for the planned operation. I want a breakdown of logistics, personnel, and additional necessities."
[Accessing data… processing…]
The system displayed a detailed projection of the operation's expenses in graphs and numerical data. The total included ammunition, logistics, ship maintenance, marine transport, and supplementary supplies.
Cero scrutinized the figures closely, his icy blue eyes scanning each number. Yet he felt the need for more than just digital analysis. He pressed the intercom button on his desk.
"Ragner, meet me in my office. I need a firsthand analysis of your operation."
Shortly after, the office door opened, and Ragner entered with purposeful strides. He carried several physical documents, even though most of the information was already available in the System.
"Director," Ragner greeted with a salute. "What do you need?"
Cero gestured toward the papers in front of him. "Look at this. I've calculated the estimated total cost for the operation to secure Dralven. But I want to know—do you see any way to reduce expenses without sacrificing effectiveness?"
Ragner stepped closer, examining the data with a serious expression. He spoke in a low but resolute tone. "Logistics is one of the largest components here, Director. We need fuel for the ships, food for the troops, and reserve ammunition. Reducing logistics would limit our flexibility in the field, which could be dangerous."
Cero gave a small nod, considering Ragner's words. "And personnel? Are we deploying too many marines for this operation?"
Ragner shook his head. "We're deploying just enough to secure the area and defend against potential counterattacks. Reducing personnel would make it difficult to hold our position after taking it."
Cero tapped his fingers on the desk, deep in thought. "Alright. So logistics and personnel are non-negotiable. What about the ships? Do we really need all active units for this operation?"
"Yes, Director," Ragner replied quickly. "Destroyers and frigates are essential for dominating the seas. The marine transport vessels must also be heavily protected."
Cero remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. In that case, we need to focus on resource efficiency. Ensure there's no wastage, especially with ammunition. I want every bullet and missile used effectively."
"Understood, Director," Ragner responded. "I'll make sure every unit knows their priorities in the field."
Ragner stood in a large war room filled with marines, tactical officers, and support staff. The dim lighting from the ceiling cast shadows across the stone walls of the command center. Behind him, a large map of Dralven was spread over the strategic table, surrounded by officers making final preparations.
He faced the troops seated before him—some focused and attentive, others whispering quietly to their comrades. In the corner of the room, Isvel leaned against the wall with a faint smile, her crimson eyes observing every movement with inscrutable interest.
"Listen carefully," Ragner's voice cut through the low murmur, sharp and authoritative. It silenced the room instantly. "This operation isn't just about seizing a small town. It's the first step in a larger plan to gain a foothold in Delos territory. If we fail here, we don't just lose Dralven—we lose credibility."
Ragner glanced toward Isvel, who slowly stepped forward. "But before we discuss the plan, let's hear from Isvel about what we can expect from Dralven and the response from the Delos kingdom."
Isvel strode forward gracefully, all eyes fixed on her. Though she wasn't officially part of the military command, her aura demanded respect. She stopped near the map, resting her hand lightly on the table's edge as she addressed the troops.
"Dralven is a small town," she began. "Its population isn't large—mostly farmers and miners. Delos doesn't pay much attention to the area, so the garrison stationed there is minimal—likely a small platoon."
In the corner, a translator stood to convey Isvel's words into English for the troops. "The region is overseen by a baron," the translator continued. "Not a high-ranking noble, but influential enough to maintain local authority."
Ragner, standing beside the map table, listened intently, noting every detail. To him, even the smallest piece of information could mean the difference between victory and defeat.
Ragner stepped closer to the map as the translation concluded. He pointed at the town of Dralven with his index finger, addressing the troops in a commanding tone.
"This town may be small, but its location is strategic," he began. "Dralven connects to mining routes and the main road leading to Pelagos. If we take this town, we won't just secure a foothold in Delos territory—we'll also control a vital supply line."
He continued, "However, don't be fooled by the size of their forces. The Baron who leads Dralven may not have a large army, but he undoubtedly knows the local terrain better than we do. That gives them an initial advantage in defense."
A young officer, Brax, raised his hand. "What do we know about this Baron, sir? Is he the type to fight to the death or the type to surrender?"
Ragner glanced at Isvel, giving her space to respond. She straightened her posture, her presence commanding as she spoke.
"The Baron of Dralven is the kind of man who will defend his territory to the last drop of blood," Isvel explained. "Not because he's loyal to Delos, but because of his personal ambition. If Dralven falls, his reputation falls with it. And a Baron without a reputation is as good as dead."
Ragner nodded at her reply, turning back to the troops to ensure he had their full attention. "That means we must act quickly and efficiently. There's no time for prolonged battles. This operation will be conducted in three phases: infiltration, central town capture, and stabilization."
He gestured toward the mining route on the town's southern side. "The infiltration team will move through this path. The security here is likely minimal, but the route is steep and hazardous. This team needs to consist of operatives experienced in stealth operations."
Next, he pointed to the town's main gate. "The primary force will attack the main gate to draw attention. Their objective is to suppress the guards and prevent them from noticing the infiltration team's movements."
Finally, he tapped the area surrounding the town hall, the administrative center. "Once the infiltration team is inside and the main force has applied sufficient pressure, we'll seize the town hall to secure control over the local administration. The Baron will likely be stationed here, and we'll force his surrender."
A senior marine, Lieutenant Carrick, raised his hand with a serious expression. "Sir, what if the Baron decides to destroy the mines before surrendering? We know how critical those mines are to our operation."
Ragner answered without hesitation. "That's why the infiltration team must move swiftly and ensure the mines remain intact. We can't allow them to carry out any sabotage."
Isvel interjected, her tone laced with mild sarcasm but rich with insight. "The Baron might consider it, but those mines are his main source of wealth. Even if he loses, he knows the mines could be a bargaining chip for his life. He won't destroy them unless he's completely cornered."
Ragner met Isvel's gaze and nodded. "That makes sense. But we can't afford to take that chance."
He turned back to the troops, his voice firm. "You've all been briefed on your roles. Remember—precision and timing are key. We move at dawn."