Valshard was a sprawling fortress. The Briol army had entered within its walls and set up their barracks.
A little farther off, the banners of the Empire and Bursen fluttered in the wind.
Soon, countless emblems from many nations would line this place.
Yuri summoned the knights.
“We’ll have everyone gathered within a week.”
He sat in the large chair they’d used when fighting the orcs, watching the knights before him.
Thanks to the battles they’d fought and the experience gained, the atmosphere had shifted. They were now quite reliable.
“So, how do you think the allied forces will proceed from here?”
All eyes turned to Yuri.
They looked at him as if they were certain he already knew the answer, without a hint of doubt.
“Why are you all staring at me?”
“We don’t know. Please tell us.”
“You should think for yourselves.”
“The prince surely knows.”
The knights understood that the third prince was no rash boy as they had imagined. He was a true commander, leading his troops with the skill of a seasoned veteran.
Yuri tapped his temple.
“When knights from different countries meet, what do they usually do first?”
“Greet each other?”
“Greet each other? Who said that?”
“Sorry.”
Yuri sighed.
“Usually, they start fighting. After all, they’re all warriors who want to test who’s stronger. But what happens when knights from all sorts of unfamiliar nations gather under the banner of an alliance?”
“A brawl…?”
“A brawl? Who said that?”
“Sorry.”
“But you’re knights. What kind of brawl is that?”
Yuri stood up.
“What I’m saying is, cooperation will be terrible. There’ll be numbers, sure, but they’ll be like grains of sand. Even you—if the Empire orders you to do something, will you just follow blindly?”
“No!”
“See? Everyone will be like that. It’ll be like hands and feet moving separately. How can a war be fought properly like that?”
“No, it can’t.”
“Exactly. It’s a headache. But that’s something we can’t control. So, what should we do?”
No one answered right away.
Then, sensing the moment, Laurent raised his hand eagerly.
“Make them submit!”
“Make them submit? Who said that…”
Meeting Laurent’s shining eyes, Yuri couldn’t bring himself to criticize and shifted the topic.
“Well… it’s a thought anyone could have.”
The knights didn’t look pleased, but Yuri ignored them.
“But even that isn’t the real answer. What we have to do is…”
Someone else raised a hand. It was Simon.
He had recently been inspired by Yuri’s warm guidance during a fight with orcs.
“Training.”
He said firmly. Yuri applauded.
“Exactly. That’s it. As expected of Simon. My precious knight, Sir Simon.”
“Thank you.”
Simon placed a hand over his heart, expressing his loyalty.
Yuri stepped forward.
“We have to become stronger. The weak die, and the strong survive longer only if they keep getting stronger than before.”
He pointed toward the barracks, where soldiers rested peacefully.
“Train, and train some more. That’s what we must do.”
The battles ahead would be chaotic beyond imagination. Human tactics would crumble before the monstrous strength of other races.
That was what it meant to wage war against orcs.
In the end, the only thing you could trust was your own skill.
Yuri handed out sheets of paper to each knight. They listed the upcoming training schedules and the names of the soldiers they were to instruct.
“Our war has already begun.”
As Yuri walked away, the knights stepped aside.
They might not have been thrilled to train after coming this far, but no one resisted.
“I will join you.”
Their commander, Yuri, led by example, carrying out the orders himself.
“Laurent.”
“Yes?”
“You’re my opponent.”
“Understood.”
And so Briol’s training began.
The knights taught soldiers mana methods and swordsmanship, sometimes sparring among themselves to raise their levels.
Residents of Valshard and the allied forces lingered around the Briol troops, watching.
Yuri exchanged swords with Laurent. A pleasant fatigue spread through his body.
“Laurent, you’re strong as ever.”
“Prince, you’re incredible.”
Since starting his second life, Yuri had no equal among his peers. But Laurent possessed talent enough to challenge him.
Their sword styles were completely different, allowing each to learn from the other’s approach and cover their weaknesses.
Such dedication to the art of the sword was rare even among knights.
For Yuri, whose raw swordsmanship was honed through mercenary days and the Shinmon Slash technique, Laurent’s style was a refreshing stimulus.
In the past, Yuri hadn’t fully appreciated Laurent’s true worth due to his limited insight.
“Well, you were pretty clean when you tried to take my head.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
Yuri lowered his wooden sword slightly and looked at Laurent.
Facing Laurent’s blade made him reconsider the small details he’d overlooked.
“Prince, your swordsmanship is something I could never imitate. It’s truly amazing. Sometimes, your reflexes make you seem almost superhuman.”
Yuri wanted to say the same about Laurent.
His swordsmanship was incredibly precise.
“But thanks to that, I learn a lot.”
“Same here.”
Laurent straightened his back.
“I thought I’d been cautious about arrogance, but seeing you, Prince, I realize that wasn’t enough.”
Though the balance hadn’t tipped, Yuri still held the upper hand. That was a new experience for Laurent.
Yuri shrugged.
Well, this is his second life after all. He had to be this good.
“Once more, please.”
“Alright.”
Before long, a crowd gathered.
Opportunities to witness a duel between such skilled knights were rare. And these two would bear Briol’s future.
“Phew…”
Yuri forgot everything else and focused solely on Laurent, catching even a single strand of his flowing blond hair in his vision.
Laurent controlled every part of his body, drawing his opponent in. Perhaps this obsession with perfection was what had brought Laurent to where he was.
What about himself?
As he raised his sword, Yuri pondered the true meaning of the Shinmon Slash once more.
Mana was drawn thinly from the core nestled in his heart.
He controlled the flow of mana from start to finish.
Yuri was naturally gifted at mana control but had never exerted such strict mastery before—it drained too much stamina.
The sensation was uncomfortable.
He wouldn’t last long fighting like this.
Still, his image of battle had become clearer.
“Here I go.”
Laurent launched the first attack, somewhat rough.
It was his effort to emulate Yuri’s strengths.
“Come.”
Yuri raised his wooden sword and infused his swordsmanship with what he’d learned from Laurent.
The Shinmon Slash required imagination.
Yuri’s envisioned future guided the slash, and his body expressed it.
But as he controlled his mana, his mental image became something more real than imagined.
It was almost like a premonition.
Yuri’s eyes widened.
The two swords clashed.
In that instant, Laurent’s wooden sword slipped from his grip and flew through the air.
Something had happened.
Laurent stared at Yuri with wide eyes and an open mouth, his golden hair fluttering in the wind.
It was the dumbest expression Yuri had ever seen on him.
“What on earth…?”
Yuri chuckled softly and sank to the ground, drained from the extreme mana control.
“How did you know the sword path?”
“Just lucky.”
It wasn’t false modesty.
What he’d just done was close to luck. It was still far from usable in real combat.
Laurent glanced between his fallen sword and Yuri.
“Prince.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s do it again.”
“I’m tired.”
“Let’s go again.”
“I said I have no strength…”
“Get up!”
“Hey, hey.”
Laurent tried to pull Yuri up forcibly, but Yuri struggled.
“Someone stop him!”
But no one sided with Yuri. If anything, they urged him on.
“Get up, Prince.”
“Show us once more.”
“What was that just now?”
“Get up!”
“I didn’t see it.”
Like spectators pushing a gladiator to fight again, everyone urged Yuri to take up his sword.
In the end, Yuri was forced to stand, sword in hand, facing Laurent.
Something felt off. He was a prince and commander—why was he being forced into the coliseum like this?
“Here we go again. Hah!”
Laurent swung his sword.
Yuri tried to repeat what he’d done before but failed. Laurent’s blade pierced his chest, sending sharp pain through his ribs.
“Ugh!”
Yuri collapsed, and Laurent panicked.
“Prince?”
“Take it easy…”
“Are you alright?”
“No…”
Yuri sat, glaring at the spectators urging the fight on. They turned their backs and left as if nothing had happened.
“These bastards… ugh…”
He was too hurt to shout.
Sitting down, he groaned.
“Send for Hernando…”
“Yes!”
Laurent dashed off immediately.
Yuri stared up at the sky, bruised but with something gained.
Through Laurent’s swordsmanship, he glimpsed a new level of the Shinmon Slash.
A mercenary saying came to mind:
‘Among three people walking a path, one is always trash.’
That meant there was something to learn from the other two. Though he was stronger than Laurent now, the sparring had brought great insight.
“Prince.”
Suddenly, a shadow fell over him as someone approached.
Looking up, he saw Jose, a knight from Bursen. Yuri vaguely remembered him standing among the onlookers. That size was hard to miss.
“Prince, that was an impressive technique.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“I’d like to spar with you sometime…”
“No.”
Yuri jumped up, forgetting the pain.
“I’m done.”
“Maybe later, then.”
“I’m too busy with the war.”
And with that, Yuri turned away.
“Just once…”
“I’ll lend you Jared in return.”
The Holy Kingdom had entered Valshard, and troops from various nations gathered one after another.
The Mage Guild had set up a flagpole for the allied forces. Leading with the Empire’s banner, countless nations’ emblems fluttered in the prairie wind.
Yuri looked up at the Briol flag.
It was a simplified image of a mounted knight.
A simple design, but beneath this flag, countless lives had been risked in battle.
“Greetings.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Excuse me for a moment.”
Suddenly, soldiers from other countries bowed respectfully to Yuri and began raising new flagpoles.
“Which country are you from?”
“Liberta.”
A nation neighboring Bursen. With these two countries from the western edge arriving, the allied forces were nearly fully assembled.
Just then, a Briol soldier ran up to Yuri with news.
“Your Highness!”
“What is it?”
“The commander-in-chief of the allied forces has arrived.”
“Is that so?”
Though the Empire had deployed troops to Valshard early on, the true commander had arrived late.
Yuri already knew who it was.
Prince Ragna, the half-brother of the current emperor and uncle to Ekaterina.
Yuri had met him once in a past life.
He recalled the memory.
At a royal villa, secretly holding hands with Ekaterina, when Ragna suddenly appeared and caught them.
Ragna was a large man, hardly looking like he shared the emperor’s bloodline.
He looked at Yuri with sharp eyes and asked,
“Do you really like her?”
There was something strange in his tone.
Perhaps he already knew something then.
“Yes. I do.”
Yuri answered confidently.
Though a prince of Briol, he was only the third son. Compared to Ekaterina’s background, he was nothing. But at that time, he had nothing to lose and was full of spirit.
“I see.”
Ragna accepted this and turned away.
That was the end.
Their relationship never spread.
He was a man with depth.
“I should have realized why he looked at me so pitifully back then…”
“Hm?”
“Never mind. The commander-in-chief must be Prince Ragna, right?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Because I see through the Empire’s political landscape.”
“Ohhh…”
“By the way, today’s lunch is beef radish soup and ham vegetable stir-fry. I even know the kitchen’s situation.”
“Ooooh…”
“Go on.”
“Yes, I’ll run right away.”
“Take your time.”
“Hm?”
“Once you get back, it’s training anyway. Slacking off is for moments like this.”
“As expected of Your Highness. I’ll walk three steps and rest once.”
The soldiers from Liberta glanced over at their casual conversation. Such familiarity was impossible in other nations.
“What are you looking at?”
“Ah, nothing.”
Yuri crossed his arms and watched the Liberta flag-raising ceremony. There was no special ritual—just earnest efforts to hoist the flag high.
“Nothing special.”
After memorizing all the nations participating in the allied forces, Yuri turned away.
The sun was harsh, so he moved between the shadows cast by nearby buildings around the flagpole.
“Are the flags being raised properly?”
“Yes! They are!”
“The angle looks off.”
“No, it’s fine!”
“No, it’s not. You idiot.”
Yuri hid his presence and peeked back.
A man dressed flamboyantly was scolding the soldiers lined up before him.
“The angle’s off. Do you think Liberta’s flag is a joke?”
“No, sir!”
“If not, then why?”
“Sorry!”
“Why do you keep apologizing?”
“Sorry!”
“Does apologizing end your military service?”
“No!”
He was ruthless.
Judging by how skillfully he was berating them, he must be a knight holding a position in Liberta.
“Enough. Let’s look at the flags. Quite a crowd. What’s that one?”
He looked up at the flagpole. An aide explained.
“The Empire.”
“Who doesn’t know that? What about the one next to it?”
“Bursen.”
“What?”
He frowned.
“Why are those fishy country bumpkins next to the Empire?”
“It seems to be the order they arrived in…”
“Looking at them gives me a headache. Their shiny armor looks like fish scales packed in a net.”
“Indeed.”
“No wonder there was a fishy smell as soon as we arrived in Valshard.”
Yuri pulled out a notebook and pencil from his pocket.