“They think they can smash through the front door. They want to obliterate one-fifth of the Sacred Kingdom’s fighting power right here, right now.” Though he felt Pabel’s sharp gaze on his profile, Orlando continued. “At the same time, they can establish a bridgehead at this fort. They would also lower our morale while boosting their own to boot.”
“…The National Mobilization Order might be invoked.”
“Ha-ha! A war this big was only supposed to happen once in Roebel history. Can’t believe we’re gonna get another one in our lifetime…”
“…I’m going to report this up the chain. Come with me.”
“You got it, sir! Boys, this party’s about to get started! Go grab your spare weapons!”
The larger the enemy army, the longer it would take to get into position. And it would take all the longer if it was made up of various races. But the same could be said of the Sacred Kingdom’s side. It took time to prepare an army. Even on the front lines.
There were an astonishing number of things to do. They had no time to waste.
Orlando set off running after Pabel.
2
As the enemy army took up its position, Pabel felt his throat begin to burn.
The longer it took them to attack, the more soldiers could be concentrated at the fortress and the more time the Roebel Sacred Kingdom’s government would have to activate the National Mobilization Order. The military leadership seemed to welcome the delay, but Pabel felt differently. Some subhumans had intellects that equaled or even surpassed human intelligence. There was no way the leader of this army was an unenlightened imbecile; they would surely understand that giving their enemy time to prepare put them at a disadvantage. And it was the middle of the night. Subhumans had the advantage in combat now, even if the humans lit bonfires and other sources of light.
Pabel stared out at the enemy encampment four hundred yards away.
The host was gathered in groups by race that didn’t seem to take into account what sort of weapons, tactics, or similar racial characteristics they had.
They probably weren’t united under a single banner. If they were, there should have been a more logical way to form ranks. Or perhaps it was a polyarchy, some sort of subhuman alliance where each race had equal authority.
“I can’t see very well, sir. Can you spot the general?”
“No, so far I haven’t found anyone who looks like their leader.”
And none of Pabel’s subordinates had reported that they had seen someone like that, either.
But there had to be a commander. Without one, even getting people to form ranks was a challenge.
“They can’t stay hidden forever. I’m sure the leader will show up on the battle line.”
It was subhuman nature for the ruler to possess great strength and to publicly demonstrate their might.
And that was the perfect timing for Pabel to do his job.
He clenched his bow.
It was a composite longbow enchanted with magic effective against subhumans. Not only that, he had also been issued a Cape of Shadow that allowed him to melt into the shadows and conceal himself more easily, Boots of Silence to erase the sound of his footsteps, a Vest of Resistance to boost his defense, and a Deflection Ring to protect him against ranged weapons. It was clear how much his country valued him.
“Be ready to go at any time, you guys,” he instructed his subordinates lurking in the darkness.
If their opponents were human, war was sometimes a noble affair with an exchange of messengers and declarations, but neither the officers at this fortress nor the people of the Sacred Kingdom felt like negotiating with subhumans that hailed from the hills. If anything, they might pretend as a ruse to buy time. Pabel and his troops intended to shoot as soon as they located the enemy commander.
“…Shouldn’t you head back to your own unit?”
“All right, I will. Take care, sir.”
“You too.”
Watching Orlando go, Pabel felt slightly anxious.
Some of the special abilities subhumans had were fatal for their victims.
Like the gaze of the gigabinocs.
These subhumans had eyes so large the proportions of their faces were bizarre. They possessed two types of dangerous gazes. One was Charm, which would lure its victim into approaching unconsciously, despite the danger. Yes, even from the top of the wall, anyone affected by Charm would attempt to reach the gigabinoc via the shortest route.
Normally, magic items were equipped to boost resistance against such unique abilities, but Orlando hadn’t been issued any, so with bad luck, one attack could be the end of him.
When Pabel closed his eyes to calm himself, the image of a woman appeared in the back of his mind.
One of the Nine Colors, she of White.
She makes me nervous in a different way. She’s liable to cause trouble with her ignorance. And it’ll be Pink cleaning up after her… Why does my daughter want to work with her? She could just meet a good man, fall in love, and settle down like a regular civilian, but instead— Agh, can’t be doing this now!
He shook his head to clear it of the spiraling worries about his daughter.
He turned to look at the subhuman camp again, partially to switch his mind’s gears.
It was unclear how many of them lurked beyond the hill, but there were many banners flapping in the wind. The sole tier-three caster at the fort had flown into the sky and confirmed they weren’t fake banners.
There really were that many enemies out there. It didn’t seem likely to end as a staring contest.
Pabel performed his usual ritual.
From his breast pocket he removed a wooden doll and he gave it a kiss.
His daughter had made it for him when she was six years old. It was a strange-looking doll, four limbs jutting out of a circle, but apparently, it was meant to be her daddy. He still remembered vividly how she had cried when he complimented her on her “neat monster”—and the kick his wife had given him.
It had been rubbed so often,
