Ragna stared intently at the map pinned inside the barracks.
“Hmph…”
In the war ahead, grand strategies hardly seemed to matter.
The endless expanse of the grasslands stretched out before them.
And there, Oqua was waiting.
Ragna’s eyes scanned the thirteen emblems of the nations arrayed before him.
The roaring lion of the Empire always claimed the highest place.
Beneath it, the other kingdoms were lined up.
In terms of military strength, the Holy Kingdom and Bursen ranked just after the Empire. But what caught his attention was Briol.
“Yuri…”
He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that kid.
He liked Yuri.
The boy knew exactly what he had to do—and executed it flawlessly.
There was nothing left to teach; he was already complete.
Even the occasional cocky attitude felt more like confidence.
“Just like when I was young.”
Of course, Yuri was stronger than Ragna had been at that age.
If he kept growing like this, he’d truly become a monster.
Watching him, Ragna felt a pang of regret that he had no children of his own. He wished he could at least give him a little brother or sister.
Yuri could handle it.
The two of them together—who else could take them in? Somehow, they fit perfectly.
“Surprisingly well, too…”
But that was a thought for after they killed Oqua and returned safely.
Ragna’s expression hardened as he looked back at the map.
Despite suffering total annihilation every time, the orcs kept sending reinforcements. That was why the march kept getting delayed.
But the orcs’ losses were just as heavy.
What was Oqua trying to do with that dark magic?
Ragna clapped his hands.
The tent flap opened, and his adjutant poked his head in.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Bring Aizen here.”
“Yes.”
Aizen was a mage brought from the Empire.
Soon, the adjutant ushered him inside.
His neat appearance, visible beyond the robe, didn’t fit the usual image of a mage. He was especially skilled in dispelling magic.
“Your Majesty, you called?”
Ragna got straight to the point.
“What’s the most terrible dark magic you know of?”
“Hmm…”
Aizen tilted his head.
“I don’t have knowledge of the dark magic you’re referring to. I’ve heard rumors, but I thought them nonsense…”
“Among those nonsense rumors?”
“As you know, it’s about raising the dead.”
Gert was the Empire’s prime target.
After discovering that he was a product of dark magic, the Empire regularly sent investigation teams to the old Adelvain lands.
The results were grim.
Gert left no visitors alive.
“Then why is Oqua stalling for time?”
“If he’s really using dark magic, it’s hard for me to guess…”
Aizen closed his eyes, deep in thought.
“Perhaps he’s trying to summon something?”
“Summon?”
“There are many time-consuming spells, but if it’s something to be used in war, that’s the kind that comes to mind. Just a possibility, though.”
“I see. Anything else?”
“Other than that…”
Ragna continued talking with Aizen.
Aizen was skeptical about dark magic.
“If he’s using it, he must have gotten some magical item—like a spellbook or artifact. The grasslands were once home to an ancient kingdom; maybe he found a dungeon.”
“Is that serious?”
“I don’t think it’s something to worry about too much. Just my opinion, but Oqua is miscalculating.”
“Miscalculating?”
“Even if he uses dark magic, the allied forces’ magical power is superior.”
He spoke with confidence.
“Not only the Empire but other nations have deployed high-level mages. They won’t be outmatched by mere shamans. I’m sure other mages share this view.”
“I see.”
Ragna nodded.
Magic on the continent had advanced greatly.
In contrast, the orcs had shamans, but they were no match for mages.
Shamanism was closer to a primitive form of magic.
“Is it because of the surprise attacks?”
“Something like that.”
“I hesitate to speak on military strategy, but isn’t it better not to rush? I think Oqua is the one being tricked, wasting his forces.”
That made sense.
War was a game of deception.
Maybe Oqua’s aim was to force Ragna’s hand prematurely.
Ragna nodded.
“Thanks for the advice.”
“Not at all. I hope it helps.”
“It did.”
Aizen bowed and left the tent.
Left alone, Ragna leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.
Rushing too much risked falling into a trap. But moving too slowly might let the orcs pull some trick.
The conclusion was clear: maintain a steady pace while fending off orc attacks.
“In the end, nothing changes.”
It was the same as always.
Ragna muttered the name of the new force given to him.
“The Stranger.”
His presence kept Ragna calm.
Whatever deal had been made, Yuri had brought the Stranger into the allied forces.
Considering how rarely the Stranger mingled with others, it was an unusual situation.
The Stranger would be a great asset—a weapon strong enough to face Oqua.
Suddenly, Ragna felt the urge to see him.
“Maybe I should pay him a visit.”
He stepped out of the tent, followed closely by his adjutant.
The moon shone brightly that night.
As he headed toward Briol’s barracks, he suddenly heard the clash of weapons.
“What’s going on?”
“The knights are training.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
The adjutant nodded and added,
“It seems the third prince of Briol has been an inspiration.”
Ragna smiled.
The Empire’s knights, clad in black armor, were notorious not only for their strength but also their ruthless efficiency. Some said they were more machine than man.
But beneath the helmets, they were just human.
They sometimes felt competitive watching other knights.
But who would believe their rival was an eighteen-year-old kid?
“I was surprised myself.”
The adjutant cleared his throat.
“He cut down three orcs cleanly. In an instant.”
“Indeed.”
“To be that skilled at eighteen… really…”
“Pity, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
“Huh?”
“I want to put the Empire’s black armor on him.”
“Haha…”
Ragna let slip his true feelings to the adjutant, then headed to the training ground.
The knights, swinging wooden swords in casual attire, stopped as Ragna arrived.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all!”
The knights’ faces, revealed beneath their helmets, were ordinary.
From fresh-faced youths to middle-aged men with crow’s feet—faces you’d see on any street.
They earned the Empire’s black armor solely through skill.
Ragna picked a wooden sword from a pile of them.
“Let me have a go after a long time.”
“Your Majesty, that’s…”
“Just a moment.”
He appointed the captain of the knights.
The man bowed lightly and stood before Ragna. The others resumed training.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ragna raised the wooden sword, recalling the scene from memory.
Yuri had followed the orc delegation and swiftly cut down three of them.
Ragna could have handled three orcs himself, but he wasn’t sure he could do it so cleanly and quickly.
Every move flowed smoothly, as if perfectly synchronized.
Probably why the knights trained so hard—they felt the same.
“Don’t hold back.”
The captain nodded.
He was a man of few words, but his skill was undeniable.
Ragna and the captain exchanged several strikes and parries.
“Seen Yuri Briol?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
After a moment’s silence, the captain answered.
“He’s skilled. For his age, it’s almost unbelievable.”
Ragna agreed.
Yuri was mature beyond his years.
Not just in swordsmanship.
His decisions were quick, and once resolved, he acted without hesitation.
Who would have thought to cut off an orc’s head and plant a flag on it?
Cruel, but effective.
It was almost an Imperial way.
That brief incident completely changed the captain’s opinion of Yuri.
“He’ll be dangerous when he grows up.”
The captain added, uncharacteristically.
Ragna chuckled softly.
“If he’s an enemy, yes.”
“…”
The captain gave a slight nod, understanding the meaning.
“All right, let’s go!”
Ragna pressed the captain with the wooden sword.
The captain seemed to falter but skillfully slipped behind Ragna like a snake—fluid and smooth.
Truly impressive skill.
Ragna shrugged.
“That’s enough.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain answered briefly and bowed.
That was it.
Ragna grumbled.
“Such a cold fish.”
He praised the knights’ efforts and moved on.
To reach Briol’s barracks, he had to pass through other nations’ camps.
Ragna walked with his hands clasped behind his back.
Those who saw his red cloak all showed him respect.
“This is Bursen, right?”
“Yes.”
Jonathan and Hose were knights worth noting.
It seemed Bursen’s influence would grow.
He passed through other nations as well.
Looking around, he saw many young, talented knights—some destined for fame.
When the allied forces disbanded, they would all return stronger.
Ragna suddenly thought:
If the alliance failed—
Each nation would lose a whole generation of young, gifted knights at once.
This meant that the very people destined to carry the future were disappearing.
It was an enormous loss.
So, who stood to gain from this?
The answer was obvious.
Ragna recalled the letter the orcs had brought.
When he first read it, he thought it wasn’t entirely absurd.
“Hmm…”
Lost in thought without realizing it, he let out a small, knowing smile.
“So that’s what it’s about. That guy…”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing, just talking to myself.”
If even he was shaken by this, then if other nations began to suspect the empire, the allied forces would fracture.
And the more dire the situation, the worse that tendency would become.
But Yuri had killed the orc delegation and humiliated them.
She had eliminated all other options.
Now, there was only one path left.
No matter the hidden circumstances, no matter whose scheme was targeting him and the alliance, they just had to crush Okua and the orc horde.
With that conclusion, Ragna stood before Briol’s barracks.
But something felt off.
“What’s going on here?”
A huge crowd had gathered.
He thought maybe they were training, like in other countries, but that wasn’t it.
“What are they doing?”
“I’m not sure… but it looks like—”
His adjutant frowned and leaned in.
Occasionally, laughter and screams echoed from within.
“Hmm…”
As he moved closer, familiar voices reached his ears.
“You cheated just now, didn’t you? You’ve got a bad hand under the table.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know all your tricks, but that one…”
“Prince, I knew you knew my tricks. That was the point.”
“I knew you knew I knew you knew, so I planned for that.”
“I knew you knew I knew you knew…”
As Ragna approached, the soldiers and knights surrounding them jumped back in surprise, clearing a path.
Around a large table sat Briol’s prince, a mage, knights, and soldiers, with playing cards and cash scattered messily across it.
“Search his clothes! He’s definitely hiding something!”
“Oh, do you have proof? No? Then you’re out of luck!”
“Fine. Try me. I’ll break your wrist!”
Yuri and his mage were gripping each other’s collars, faces flushed with anger.
“You bastard!”
“Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’re above the law!”
Ragna cleared his throat.
Only then did Yuri and Hernando’s eyes snap toward him.
The knights and soldiers sitting with them had already gone pale and were rising to their feet.
“Your Highness?”
“Uh, uh…”
Within the alliance, each nation managed its own troops autonomously.
The empire was strict about banning alcohol and gambling.
“This is… well…”
Yuri awkwardly released Hernando’s collar and forced a smile.
“So, this is just…”
Ragna raised a hand to stop him.
“Briol has its own rules.”
“Yes…”
“Basregas.”
“Hm?”
“I was called the whale there.”
Ragna sat down in an empty chair and continued.
“I swallowed up all the minnows like you.”
“Oh…”
Yuri’s expression shifted dramatically.
Hernando let go of Yuri’s collar and began shuffling the cards.
The two gamblers sitting with them eyed the new player sharply.
“I’m curious about the scent of imperial money. Heh heh heh…”
“Richer and more fragrant, isn’t it?”
Ragna joked as he took his seat.
The stranger was sitting right beside him.
Ragna smiled at him.
“Sorry about trying to take the money of a guest from the East.”
“That’s something I want to do myself.”