Magic couldn’t be used endlessly in a day—especially powerful spells. I didn’t know this spell’s limits, but one man couldn’t support the entire operation alone.
“Set your mind at ease. I, Cleat, am no mere spell-flinging mediocrity.”
With a smirk, he drew the staff at his hip. At its tip was an amber gem—a magical tool for earth spells, used to soften soil. We had brought about a hundred for excavation.
“This tool is normally limited to parlor tricks like softening earth, but in my hands—”
He aimed the gem at the ground. It glowed, forming a magic circle. Light spilled forth, and where it touched, the earth hardened.
“I’ve engraved my [Earth-Hardening Cement] formula into this tool. Now, even mediocre magic soldiers can approximate my work. Of course, it still softens earth too.”
“That’s remarkable. But it must have been difficult to create.”
Because Cleat speaks arrogantly, I decide to play along.
“For any ordinary mage, this would take a whole day. But for someone like me, a simple modification like this is child’s play.”
“Really? Then could you immediately apply the same improvements to all the remaining magical tools? I believe I brought a hundred earth-based magical tools, so that leaves ninety-nine more. Let’s say… ten days or so?”
“Huh? W-Well, that’s…”
Cleat’s face twists in displeasure as I assign him the task. Though he claimed it was child’s play, it seems the work isn’t quite that simple. But I won’t let him slip away.
“As expected of Cleat the Mage. To handle something of this scale so effortlessly—truly, your reputation as the greatest mage in our kingdom is well-deserved. No, in fact, having a mage like you by my side fills me with pride.”
Ignoring Cleat’s contorted expression, I lavish him with praise.
“O-Of course! S-Something like this… is nothing… for someone like me…”
Though his face has gone pale, Cleat can’t very well admit he can’t do it after boasting so much.
“W-Well then… I-I’ll get started right away…”
Unlike when he first arrived, Cleat staggers out of the tent with unsteady steps.
“Good grief, young lady, you’re a devil.”
“My, my. What harsh words for the officially recognized Saint of the Church of Salvation.”
I shoot Foreman Ganze a pointed look, feigning offense.
“If Cleat’s work can speed things up, I’ll make him toil as much as needed.”
“Well, if he actually improves those staffs, progress will skyrocket. If things go well, we might even finish the job you requested in about twenty days.”
Originally, the plan had estimated thirty days to execute my strategy. But thanks to Cleat, we might be able to shorten that significantly.
“Still, Foreman Ganze. The key to this operation is ensuring neither the enemy nor our allies notice.”
“I know. That’s why we’ve got the massive tent and security, right? We’ll dig without alerting the Demon King’s army or the Allied Forces.”
When I voice my concern, Foreman Ganze nods in understanding.
“Then I leave it in your hands.”
I bow slightly to Foreman Ganze.
Once the plan is set, the materials gathered, and the personnel arranged, all that’s left is to trust those working on-site.
As I step out of the great tent, I spot the backs of two men with glossy black hair.
“Gran, Lagun.”
When I call out to the young men, they turn in unison. The man on the right has a handsome face with an alluring gaze, while the one on the left is his mirror image—the twin warriors of my Rome Squad, Gran and Lagun.
“Lady Romelia, we’ve received reports on the casualties from today’s battle.”
“Thirteen dead. Three hundred twenty-nine wounded, including twenty-seven in critical condition.”
Gran delivers the summary, while Lagun provides the exact numbers.
Hearing the precise figures, I close my eyes briefly. The number of dead weighs heavily on me. No matter how many times I experience it, I never grow accustomed to it.
“Generals Gran and Lagun. Is there anything else to report?”
I address the twins.
Gran and Lagun hold the rank of general as frontline commanders.
However, since commoners cannot become generals, they were granted noble titles—Gran as Granbel von Andrei, Baron, and Lagun as Lagunbel von Gynos, Baron.
“The fortifications are behind schedule.”
“We haven’t even started assembling the siege engines yet.”
Gran and Lagun take turns reporting.
With Foreman Ganze and his crew occupied inside the great tent, other tasks have been delayed.
“Those can wait. Don’t push the soldiers too hard.”
The twin generals nod at my order.
“Now, as for the two of you—”
“Lady Romelia!”
Just as I’m about to give Gran and Lagun new orders, a sharp voice interrupts. Turning, I see my secretary, Spiri, running toward us.
“Have you forgotten about the Allied Forces’ joint war council?”
“Of course not, Spiri. I was just about to head there. Gran, Lagun, you must be exhausted from the battle, but would you accompany me to the council?”
I request their presence at the joint war council.
The rules allow each nation’s representative to bring a few generals or escort knights. Gran and Lagun are skilled enough with spears to serve as bodyguards, and as generals, they are also permitted to speak.
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“But… isn’t General Kyle Ren supposed to be your escort?”
Spiri looks pleased. My earlier scolding must have had quite an effect.
However, I’ve tasked Kyle with overseeing all intelligence operations against the Allied Forces, so he’s busy.
“Oh? Secretary Spiri, are you displeased with me accompanying you?”
Unaware of the circumstances, Gran steps to Spiri’s right, wearing a sorrowful expression.
“Surely… you don’t dislike us, Secretary Spiri?”
Lagun mirrors him, positioning himself on Spiri’s left with a similarly pained look.
These twins are undeniably handsome. With identical faces flanking her, Spiri doesn’t know where to look, utterly bewildered.
“N-No! That’s not—I don’t dislike either of you…”
Spiri’s cheeks flush as she denies it.
“Really, Secretary Spiri?”
Lagun maintains his mournful expression as he asks.
“Of course! General Granbel, General Lagunbel…”
“I’m Lagunbel. Just call me Lagun. May I call you Spiri?”
Lagun flashes a radiant smile and takes Spiri’s left hand.
“Huh? Wh-What?”
As Spiri flusters at the physical contact, Gran places a hand on her shoulder.
“Please call me Gran too, Spiri. I’d love to know more about you.”
Gran whispers by her ear, turning Spiri’s face scarlet.
“Huh? Wh-What? Whaaat?!”
“Alright, that’s enough. Stop it, Gran, Lagun.”
Unable to bear Spiri’s distress, I clap my hands to halt them.
“Gran, release Spiri. Lagun, you too.”
When I glare disapprovingly, the twins reluctantly let go. Only then does Spiri realize she’s been teased.
“I never imagined Generals Granbel and Lagunbel would play such pranks…”
Spiri slumps her shoulders.
“If we’ve disappointed you, we apologize. But we weren’t lying.”
“We truly wish to grow closer to you. How about the three of us share a meal sometime?”
Gran and Lagun take turns whispering sweet words.
“N-No, that’s… unnecessary.”
Though her face remains red, Spiri refuses, pulling away and escaping from between them. It seems she’s learned that being sandwiched by the twins is dangerous.
Gran and Lagun lower their eyes, feigning heartbreak—an expression guaranteed to tug at any maiden’s heartstrings.
“Anyway, Spiri. Isn’t it time for the war council?”
“R-Right, Lady Romelia! We must hurry, or we’ll be late.”
“There’s plenty of time.”
“No, we should arrive early to greet the representatives from the Hurion Kingdom and the Fulgus Empire.”
As I check my pocket watch, Spiri responds with an impatient huff.
Led by Spiri, Gran, Lagun, and I make our way to the Hurion Kingdom’s encampment where the council will be held. The journey, however, is a long one.
The circular hills spread out around Fort Gangaruga, with each nation’s forces stationed on the outer slopes. To the south flows the Lane River, its western bank connected by the Soot Bridge used by the Allied Forces. Our Lionel Kingdom holds the southernmost position, wedged between the hills and the river.
To Lionel’s left lies the Hameil Kingdom’s camp, and beyond that, the Heirent Kingdom’s forces. To our right is the Hovos Federation, and further still, the Fulgus Empire’s encampment. On the opposite side of Fort Gangaruga, the Hurion Kingdom has stationed itself.
Choosing a leftward route, I pass through the Hameil and Heirent encampments en route to Hurion’s.
Walking atop the circular hills, the Hurion Kingdom’s camp soon comes into view. As the leader of the alliance, their camp—housing a hundred thousand soldiers—is truly impressive. Nearing the center, I spot a gate-like structure made of wood.
Likely a precaution against reinforcements from the Demon King’s army. Our Lionel Kingdom has similar defenses, though ours consist merely of fences and earthen mounds. Above the gate, the name Hild Fort is inscribed. It seems they plan to build a fortress here. The continent’s strongest nation does things differently.
Impressed, I enter the half-built Hild Fort and pass through the entrance of the tent erected inside.
Within, a massive round table dominates the space, covered with maps. Representatives from three nations are already seated, chatting.
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