How to Start a War (1.6)
The combat group of the Dark Elves, the Anfaughlia Brigade’s cavalry regiments, had already completed their first rotation in guarding the royal residence since the system was put in place.
And slight changes had begun to appear in the daily life of Dineluth Andariel, brigade commander of the same unit, a major general in the Orcsen Army, and now representative of all the remaining Dark Elves.
—Slight changes.
No, quite significant. You could say they were considerable changes.
Put simply, she had become a woman of King Gustav Falkenhayn of Orcsen.
It wasn’t that he claimed her; rather, she had set her eyes on him, judged him to be worthy, and boldly leapt into his arms of her own will. It was a very Dineluth-like course of action.
She felt absolutely wonderful.
Lately, that joy had only deepened.
There had been considerable trouble, confusion, and even shock regarding a certain matter that both King Gustav had worried about and Dineluth herself had secretly feared—but they had managed to overcome it. As they gradually became more accustomed to sharing the nights together, they had now reached a point where they worked together hand in hand, shared their joy, and sought to reach even greater heights.
Perhaps this wasn’t limited to just the two of them, but a common experience for all intelligent beings—male and female—who had come to desire intimacy: the beginning of the most delightful period.
Even in daily life, now that they were lovers, Gustav proved to be an even more attentive and considerate man than before.
What was especially pleasant was that he didn’t use jewels or bouquets in his consideration.
Dineluth wasn’t the kind of woman who desired such things.
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy gifts—what mattered was whether they suited her tastes. The fact that he understood this about her made her happy in itself.
To begin with—this was just before their relationship deepened—he had gifted her an extremely high-performance field binocular.
It wasn’t much different in size from her old one. It did feel slightly heavier.
Apparently, it used a thing called a “triangular prism” in its internal construction, which refracted light, allowing it to show distant objects more clearly through its precise mechanism.
She didn’t really understand the technical details, but once she tried it, she fell in love with it instantly.
It was still close to a prototype—perhaps too delicate for the rough use of the military. But if that became an issue, she would just go back to using the old one. She did feel slightly guilty upon learning the price later. Supposedly, it cost about six months’ salary for an officer.
Next came the Growal seaweed soap—used by royal families in many nations.
It lathered well, each bubble delicate, with a refined fragrance. It felt wonderful to use.
She first encountered it in the bath of Gustav’s residential quarters at the royal estate.
It had been placed on a brass soap tray—using it was how she came to know of it.
Some might find it surprising, but Orcs in daily life valued cleanliness deeply and made a habit of it.
Their race's ancestors had, even while living in the wild, carefully prepared sleeping spaces, a trait that had been passed down.
That’s why their sheets were always freshly replaced, and wearing well-washed and crisply ironed clothes was second nature. It was even common—though rare in the countries of Western Euro-Star—for them to bathe every day.
The towns they built were sturdy yet clean, and they even had separate sewage and water systems. This reflected their values.
It made sense, then, that Gustav’s faintly pinkish-white skin was always so enviably smooth. And he even shared the soap with Dineluth, saying, “This is good stuff.”
Then came the Orcsen-made scented oil “Wonderful Water 792.”
Though originally intended for gentlemen, this cosmetic was born in the Star Calendar Year 792 in a small pharmacy in Orcsen.
Made primarily from citrus fruits like oranges, blended with various herbs, alcohol, and fresh spring water from the region, it was aged for about two months in barrels.
It had a very clean scent. Most notably, there was not a trace of cloying sweetness to it.
Unlike perfumes from Growal or other countries, it had none of the heavy-handed pungency or lack of refinement.
Because Orcs have an extremely sensitive sense of smell, it had to be formulated with extreme care to avoid being off-putting.
This was a rare case where Dineluth had requested something herself.
Gustav used it regularly, and after catching the scent, even someone like her—who normally didn’t use such products at all—was taken with it.
He didn’t stop at the perfume. He gave her the full set, including lotion and hair cream made by the same company, and even told her where to buy them in the capital.
That Saturday morning in mid-August, the two of them and Advin had gone to the morning market in the Waldgarten, had breakfast at the royal residence, and were now heading to the Walderberg garrison.
That morning’s breakfast was simple but refined: two slices of thinly sliced rye bread, stuffed with generous vegetables, soft-boiled eggs, and prosciutto, with a light sprinkle of pepper. Alongside that, grilled sausages topped with finely chopped onions—so fresh they made your eyes water. Just those two dishes.
Gustav had made sure not to overload the menu. A light meal allowed for a quick start.
Given the distance from the residence to the garrison, they would easily make it in time for the 9AM start of duties.
She had come to organize her daily schedule like that.
Following regulations for Orcsen Army generals, she worked from around 9AM to 4PM. with a lunch break. Even with some leftover tasks, she energetically wrapped up her work before six in the evening, then would ride back to the royal residence before nightfall—returning again the next morning.
Such were her daily routines.
Though today was Saturday, and with the midday cannon, official duties would end. The same went for the soldiers—and Gustav as well. Provided nothing arose in the civil administration for the Dark Elves, she planned to head straight back to the royal residence.
What made her feel both impressed and grateful was this:
Despite the fact that the royal residence’s aides, stewards, cooks, and housekeeping staff had surely already noticed their relationship, none of them said a word or pried into it. At least on the surface, they maintained a respectful silence.
It wasn’t seen as scandal or disgrace—
—“So even our King, who never had a single rumor about him, has finally...”
That seemed to be the sentiment among them.
Among them all, Major Danvitz, the head of the King’s adjutant department, and Major Müffling, who often served as the king’s messenger to government offices, were especially trustworthy—there was no need for unnecessary concern.
Such was the depth of their loyalty to Gustav.
Just recently, she had learned—
That same Major Müffling, who had come to Walderberg this spring to deliver the invitation for the inter-division military exercises…
It’s said that he’s been serving as a royal messenger under the King for a very long time.
An Orc by birth, with a face that looks perpetually pitiful, he doesn’t appear to excel at anything in particular—if anything, he gives off the exact opposite impression. Even his horsemanship, a skill essential for a courier, is nothing particularly remarkable.
When it comes to ordinary adjutant duties, he’s utterly hopeless. He seems lacking in some way—that’s how others perceive him, at least.
So why, then, is he entrusted with such an important role as the King’s messenger?
That’s what everyone else keeps wondering.
And yet, Gustav had this to say about him:
"That one—even if it takes him time, he always gets there. Without fail, he delivers the message. And without fail, he comes back."
That was the kind of man he was.
What do you think about this chapter?
