A few days prior, at Arnel Castle—
“My lord, Chel Brans has just arrived at the royal palace of Arnel Castle.”
Chel, the strongest swordsman of Brans and Lyn’s eldest brother, knelt before her as she sat upon the throne.
“You’ve come, big brother. It’s been a while since we last saw each other, hasn’t it? Not since the campaign against Zeilant Castle.”
“......”
Chel said nothing in response.
Though stationed on the southern front, he was neither deaf nor blind.
The events that had unfolded—the siege of Zeilant Castle, the incomprehensible happenings in the northern front, and the rebellion that followed—had all reached his ears.
And at the center of it all was a single man.
A man that he and that traitor Airen Juliet had fought to capture during the siege of Zeilant.
Yes.
Airen Juliet’s betrayal.
To Chel Brans, it was nothing short of a shock.
As a child, he had often heard his father’s words:
“Chel. You are destined to lead House Brans one day. And just as I had Kafka by my side, you will have Airen to serve as your right hand.”
Of course, things hadn’t unfolded the way their father, Oland Brans, had expected.
As Chel grew older, his father gradually distanced him from the line of succession.
Perhaps it was because he spent more time sharpening his blade than studying politics.
But to Chel, that didn’t matter.
He had never cared for ruling from a throne.
He was more suited to leading from the battlefield, fighting with his own two hands rather than commanding from afar.
A ruler needed restraint—if they fought on the front lines and died, the entire nation could collapse in their absence.
And more importantly, a ruler had to constantly navigate political intrigue—something his cunning little sister was far better suited for.
But Airen—
Their father had placed great expectations on her.
And Chel had, too.
Back when they sparred, she was the only woman who had ever matched him in skill.
Even Chel, who rarely acknowledged others, had been forced to recognize her.
But more than her strength, what had truly made her invaluable was her unwavering loyalty.
She had been raised by Kafka Juliet to serve House Brans without question.
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She had been the most loyal knight in their ranks.
Chel had always believed that if there was one person who would never betray House Brans—
It was Airen Juliet.
Yet she had betrayed them.
How?
Why?
Having spent so long on the front lines, away from central politics, Chel had no way of knowing what had transpired to drive her to this.
His younger brother, Carlints, had been placed under house arrest for his failures.
His sister, Lyn, had been personally betrayed by Airen.
And now, he had been summoned to Arnel Castle after Lyn had forged a three-month truce with two neighboring southern nations.
“Oraeboni, I assume you’ve heard the gist of what’s happened?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Lyn smiled brightly.
“Our goal is simple—erase the Aishus Army from the map.”
“And capture Airen Juliet.”
“...Capture her?”
“That’s right. I want her taken alive. Not a scratch on her.”
“Why?”
Chel frowned.
Surely Lyn wouldn’t be planning to forgive Airen.
No.
If anything, she should want her dead.
She had defected, taking thirty thousand soldiers with her.
By all logic, the best course of action would be to execute her.
“I understand what you’re thinking, brother. I get it.”
Lyn pressed a finger against her lips.
“But don’t you think it would be a waste? If all she lost for her betrayal was her life?”
“...What?”
“Despair.”
The moment she uttered the word, she let out a twisted giggle.
Her eerie laughter filled the throne room.
“That damn traitor... I want her to experience the deepest despair possible before she dies.”
Her voice dripped with malice.
“I want to watch her break. To see her plead for her life. And then, only then, I’ll end her. But not quickly, oh no. Maybe I’ll start by taking her fingers, one by one... Hehe. I wonder how she’ll scream? Even knowing there’s no one left to save her, will she still cry out for help?”
Chel’s breath caught in his throat.
This—
This was—
“And when she’s at her lowest—”
Lyn’s blue eyes shimmered with dark, twisted desire.
“—I’ll take Swen for myself, right in front of her.”
A chill ran down Chel’s spine.
Swen?
Wasn’t that the white-haired tactician they had recruited during the Zeilant campaign?
The one rumored to have used some kind of magic at the northern fortress?
What did he have to do with Airen?
Chel wanted to ask.
But he couldn’t.
Not when Lyn’s eyes gleamed with such obsessive hatred.
“Ahh... The look on her face when I steal from her what she tried to take from me... Kuhuhu...”
Lyn let out a shuddering breath, twisting her body in amusement.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she straightened up and smiled.
“Now then, oraeboni. I’m giving you 53,000 soldiers. Wipe out the Aishus Army.”
“...53,000?”
That was nearly all their forces outside of the north, where Serpina’s army remained a threat.
If things went wrong, the entire balance of power could crumble.
But if things went right—
“That’s more than enough.”
According to their reports, Aishus had just over 40,000 troops stationed at their fortress.
Valharat Castle held a similar number, but those troops were currently locked in battle with the Aleffel Army.
More importantly—
The first target was the fortress, not the castle.
With sufficient siege weaponry and an overwhelming force, victory was assured.
Especially with Chel Brans leading the charge.
The only thing that concerned him was Swen.
If the man truly possessed some kind of mysterious power, it could complicate things.
But as long as they neutralized his tactics—
Victory was inevitable.
“I’ll send additional reinforcements once the western front is secured. Your final objective is to take Valharat Castle. Understood?”
If they succeeded, they would command over 90,000 troops—
More than enough to crush Aishus.
“...Yes. I accept this mission.”
Chel clenched his fists.
It didn’t matter what had led to this.
It didn’t matter why Airen had betrayed them.
If the Brans Army needed him to fight—
Then fight he would.
If he had to stain his sword with blood—
Then so be it.
This was how Chel Brans survived in an era of war.
***
Arriving at the royal castle at a swift pace, we were greeted by Yuri, seated on the throne with a grave expression.
"Airen Juliet, reporting under orders. I have just arrived at the royal castle."
"Airen, you’re here. Swen as well."
She gave us a brief nod as we knelt before her, then immediately got to the point.
"You’ve heard the news, right? The Brans forces are making a move."
"...My apologies."
At Airen’s words, Yuri shook her head.
"No, it’s not that... I’m not blaming you, nor am I holding you responsible. The decision to take you in was my own, made of my own will. Right now, what matters is handling the situation at hand."
"Do you intend to resist?"
Jinor, standing beside me, asked with a serious expression.
"For now, it seems Epinnel is leaning that way."
"But... choosing resistance recklessly and suffering losses could be catastrophic. It would be wiser to abandon the fortress for now and consolidate our forces at Valharat Castle—"
"...Jinor. I’m really sorry, but I’d like you to go to Epinnel directly. If you intend to convince someone, rather than discussing it with me, I’d prefer you to persuade Epinnel in person."
"..."
Jinor had no response to Yuri’s words.
I see now.
The fundamental flaw of the Aishus Army was finally clear to me.
Epinnel. Emma. Hernandorf. The so-called "Three Pillars of Aishus," a faction of founding figures with overwhelming influence.
Unlike rulers like Lyn or Serpina, who dominated their subordinates with absolute authority, Yuri and Lunarian leaned more toward a horizontal leadership style, acting as the heads of collectives rather than supreme sovereigns.
It wasn’t a matter of right or wrong—just two different ways of ruling.
However, while Lunarian, despite her innate gentleness, knew how to push her own opinions forward when necessary, Yuri, on the other hand, seemed completely swayed by the founding members of Aishus.
Thinking back, it explained the outcome of the previous council. Emma, as one of the founding figures, naturally held more sway, and Jinor, who joined later, was inevitably pushed aside.
I had experienced this kind of structure before—long before I was transported into this world.
The military.
A strange organization where everything revolved around "how long you’ve been around."
In the Aishus Army, an individual’s personal ability wasn’t the most valued trait—it was how long they had been contributing to the force.
Seniority ruled over competence.
A ruler who cherishes their subordinates, treats them like family, and leads with camaraderie—
The irony was that such a leader could never fully exert control over their subordinates.
After all, how could someone crush the very people they cared for just to assert dominance?
It was an admirable trait for the leader of an outlaw band.
But she wasn’t leading an outlaw band—she was leading a nation.
Being an outright tyrant was certainly a poor choice, but being constantly swayed like this was no better.
Jinor shouldn’t even need to persuade Epinnel. A proper sovereign should be able to issue a simple command—"Return"—and Epinnel, as her subordinate, would have no choice but to comply.
But instead, Yuri was asking her own subordinate to convince another subordinate on her behalf.
A ruler! Making such a request!
Is this why Yuri can’t unify Aishus?
While these thoughts ran through my mind, Yuri seemed to come to a decision. Rising from her seat, she addressed us.
"Airen. I’ll assign you an additional three thousand soldiers. Take the vanguard and join Epinnel at the fortress. I’d like to send more troops, but our forces have already set out. Once you arrive, follow her instructions as if they were my own."
"Understood!"
"Jinor, join Airen’s forces and head for the fortress. Got it?"
"...Yes, understood."
"And Swen."
She finally turned to me.
"I expect a lot from you, Swen. If you have the chance to make a difference, please do so. You’ll understand more once you speak to Epinnel. Alright?"
She expects a lot from me.
She’s probably hoping for another so-called miracle like the one I pulled off at the northern fortress...
But, obviously, I don’t have the ability to perform miracles.
Still, if I can get a prediction result like I did last time... I’ll find a way.
"Understood."
With that, Jinor, myself, and several unidentified Aishus officers joined Airen and her three thousand troops.
Our destination was the fortress west of Valharat Castle—a stronghold that had once belonged to the Brans Army.