How to Start a War (1.7)
―――It happened during the Dutone War. As the King’s envoy, Müffling traveled repeatedly between the Camelot Continental Expeditionary Command and the Orcsen Army Headquarters, and not once did he fail to fulfill his duty. Even when the route crossed the patrol lines of Growal’s military genius, Albert Dutone.
When Dineluth recently heard that story, her view of him changed.
―――He’s impressive.
You could even call him extraordinary.
And to top it off, Major Müffling’s peculiar face came in handy in odd ways.
When people saw his naturally pathetic-looking expression, most felt compelled to verify the message on the spot, or they ended up feeling inexplicably sorry for him. Some even thought it must be something urgent or troubling. As a result, the delivery of the message was never delayed.
That’s why the King always used him. And Müffling, in turn, pledged his loyalty to that King.
Presumably.
If such an occasion ever arose, Dineluth felt she could entrust even a personal letter to the King with Müffling. That’s how much she had come to trust him.
Besides.
The problem didn’t lie with the adjutant staff.
―――It’s more on our side. Well, I can’t say I’m entirely blameless either.
That’s how she felt.
Upon arriving at Walderberg, passing under the camp gate while receiving salutes from the garrison commander and guards, she encountered Lieutenant Colonel Iavasril Ainalind, the brigade chief of staff, riding around the parade grounds—likely finishing her morning patrol.
Seeing Iavasril, who had long been like a sister to her as neighboring clan leaders back home, naturally brought her a sense of relief.
“Good morning, Brigade Commander.”
“Morning, Vasri.”
They exchanged greetings using nicknames, and a perceptive soldier came running over, so the two handed over their horses. Dineluth gave her beloved mount, Shili, a gentle pat before sending it off.
While heading to the brigade headquarters, she was told there were no particular problems.
“Is that really so?”
“... Yes.”
Iavasril’s expression and tone—she, who was almost like a younger sister—clearly showed concern.
Saluting soldiers passed by, but there was something odd in the air.
―――Hmm. An all-female unit of the same race really is troublesome.
Dineluth knew. She’d known for some time. She had sensed it.
Rumors about her were circulating throughout the brigade.
―――About her and King Gustav.
You can’t shut people’s mouths. Especially not in an all-female group.
What’s worse, the incident that started it all, though unavoidable, wasn’t entirely without fault on her part either―――
About a week ago, one morning, when she had returned to Walderberg and was making a round through the brigade, she noticed the soldiers’ glances bothering her. From behind, no less.
Soon after, Iavasril came up, trying to appear calm but clearly flustered.
“Brigade Commander. Um…”
“What is it?”
“Perhaps you should tie up your hair today, or quickly drink an elixir… um… there’s something… something like a mark on your nape…”
“………… I see.”
Since it was about her own body, she understood immediately what it was.
―――Gustav, you bastard! That fool...!
She did vaguely recall having received a certain type of affectionate gesture from him, but it had been during a time when she herself was completely caught up in the moment, and by morning, she had entirely forgotten about it.
There had been a slight itching and stinging sensation on her nape, like an insect bite—she should have realized sooner.
Trying to act normal, Dineluth still couldn’t meet even Iavasril’s eyes. All she could manage was to untie her hair with as much composure as she could muster and put her bearskin cap back on.
―――It was after that. That’s when the rumors started.
To begin with—
Lately, Dineluth, who already possessed a wild, natural beauty as a clan leader, had come to exude maturity, refinement, and a healthy glow that even others of her race and gender could recognize.
Some among the cavalry regiment had realized earlier.
After all, they rotated in and out of the royal residence.
But because of the nature of their duties, they were trained never to speak of anything they saw or heard at the residence. That’s why they treated Dineluth no differently.
Even among those stationed at the garrison gate, there were some who had sniffed it out.
That the brigade commander rode in from the direction of the city, not from the official residence near the garrison.
But the definitive incident was that morning.
And as for the brigade commander’s partner―――the more perceptive quickly realized it had to be King Gustav.
Although such rumors circulated, morale and discipline did not suffer. Nor did anyone lose faith in Dineluth.
Every member of the brigade was a survivor of that escape operation—they owed their lives to Dineluth. Their loyalty to her was profound.
The problem was―――
That very depth of loyalty led some to a heavy misinterpretation.
―――Lady Dineluth is doing this for our sake… with King Gustav...
―――How noble of her...
A completely mistaken idea.
But even that couldn’t be said to be entirely baseless.
She had, in fact, sworn such an oath to King Gustav around the time of their escape. Especially the one right after crossing the river—there were even witnesses to that.
At first, she had considered ignoring the many rumors that sounded like something a mere town girl would spread.
But she couldn’t tolerate it.
I don’t mind. Say what you will about me.
But that man isn’t like that.
He’s not that kind of man at all.
And when I think of how deeply he’s struggled with it, how he forced himself to swallow it down in order to accomplish something greater—
Just thinking about it made her seethe with anger.
She couldn’t possibly let it slide.
Now that all the surviving races had become citizens of this nation under Gustav’s leadership, such misunderstandings had to be cleared up. They could easily lead to distrust toward the orcs or Orcsen itself.
She came up with a plan and weighed her options.
Scolding them would be a bad idea.
They’d think she was hiding something.
It would hurt morale, too.
She needed a way to snuff out the rumors completely, and if possible, even lift the mood within the unit—that kind of approach would be best.
—Yes. Let’s do it Gustav’s way. When it gets annoying, no need for subtlety. Just reveal the truth, plain and simple.
She decided to act at the time when the soldiers, now more seasoned and confident, usually grew restless thinking about their afternoon outings to town—before most of them had left.
From the brigade commander’s office, she sent out a magic communication limited to the confines of the garrison.
Not spoken words. Not paper.
It would be understood by the Dark Elves but wouldn’t leak outside.
And just in case any Kobolds happened to be within earshot, she had carefully chosen her words.
“Attention. All comrades of the brigade, give me your attention where you stand—”
There was a momentary stir in the garrison, and then it quickly quieted down.
“This is the brigade commander. Apparently, there are people who can’t stop thinking about me, so I’ll say this just once. Got it? This is the one and only time.”
She took a breath.
“I have never once failed to bring down my prey in my homeland. Got that? I wasn’t the one hunted down—”
She paused dramatically, long enough for everyone to perk up and listen closely.
“With my own will—yes, this very will of mine—I went after a slightly bigger prey and took it down. That’s all. Over.”
After a short pause.
Cheers erupted throughout the compound.
Cries of “As expected of the brigade commander!” and “Well said!” rang out. Some whistled, others even pulled out instruments.
—This will do.
No one will waste time on those rumors again.
And of course, just like from the beginning, no one will let anything leak outside.
I know.
These are that kind of people.
Good people.
People who make you feel good just being around them.
The best subordinates—and comrades—I could ask for.
Dineluth took a bottle out of the officer’s bag she always carried.
A tall, generously sized brown ceramic bottle. The label read “Lightning Strike.” It even had a drawing of a boar leaping from a lightning bolt.
The seal had already been broken, and a small amount had been drunk.
It had been a gift from Gustav just the night before.
Among all the gifts he had given her, this was her favorite, the one she was most pleased with. He had searched for it from here and there, and finally across all of Orcsen’s distilleries.
Apparently, it came from the Meltmere region in the north.
—A fiery spirit, very close in strength and sharpness to the kind produced in Elfynd.
Dineluth sent out another magic message, this time much more narrowly focused.
“Vasri, come here. Your playboy commander has something good for the right-hand man who puts up with all her trouble.”
What do you think about this chapter?
