Balshad was vast within its walls. The Briol forces entered through the gates and pitched their tents.
A short distance away, the flags of the Empire and Bursen fluttered in the wind.
Soon, the emblems of many more nations would line up here.
Yuri summoned the knights.
"Everyone will be gathered within a week."
Yuri sat on the large chair he had used during the Orcbal campaign and looked at the knights.
Thanks to their experience in past battles, the atmosphere had changed. They now seemed far more reliable.
"What will happen to the Allied Army from here on?"
Everyone looked at Yuri's lips.
It was as if they had not the slightest doubt that he would have the answer.
"Why is everyone staring at me?"
"We don't know. Please tell us."
"You need to think for yourselves."
"But surely, Your Highness would know."
The knights had come to understand that the Third Prince was not some immature boy as they had once imagined. He was a true commander, leading troops as skillfully as a veteran of many wars.
Yuri tapped his temple.
"When knights from different nations meet, what usually happens first?"
"A greeting?"
"Who's Greeting?"
"I apologize."
Yuri sighed.
"Usually, it ends in some dispute. After all, they're sword-swinging types. They want to see who's stronger. And though it's called the Allied Army, what happens when knights from all these unfamiliar nations gather?"
"A gang fight…?"
"Who's Gang Fight?"
"I'm sorry."
"Still, you're knights. What do you mean, a gang fight?"
Yuri stood from his seat.
"In other words, there'll be no real cooperation. Just a bunch of sand grains. Even you guys—if the Empire orders something, are you just going to follow without question?"
"No, sir!"
"See? Everyone's like that. It's like limbs moving separately. How can we wage a proper war like that?"
"We can't."
"Exactly. It's a headache. But that's not something we can control. Then what should we do?"
No answer came easily.
Then, Laurent, sensing the moment, raised his hand high.
"We subjugate them!"
"Who's Subjugate…"
Meeting Laurent's shining eyes, Yuri couldn't bring himself to criticize too harshly and adjusted his tone.
"Who… well, that's a thought anyone could have."
The knights didn't look pleased, but Yuri ignored them.
"But that's still not the right answer. What we need to do is…"
Someone raised a hand. It was Simon.
He had recently been moved by Yuri's kind guidance during the battle against the orcs.
"Training."
He spoke with conviction. Yuri clapped.
"That's it. That's exactly right. As expected of Simon. My precious knight, Sir Simon."
"Thank you, sir."
Simon placed a hand over his heart, expressing his loyalty.
Yuri stepped forward.
"If we become strong, we live. If the ones destined to die are to live, and the ones destined to live are to survive longer, we must grow stronger."
He pointed to the barracks. The soldiers were resting peacefully.
"Train, and train them. That's our duty."
The battles to come would be beyond imagination. In the face of the monstrous strength of other races, human tactics would crumble.
Going to war with orcs meant just that.
In the end, the only thing one could rely on was one's own strength.
Yuri handed each knight a sheet of paper. It contained the training they were to conduct and the list of soldiers they would instruct.
"Our war has already begun."
As Yuri walked out, the knights made way for him.
Training in a place like this might not be appealing, but none raised objections.
"I will be training alongside you."
It was because Yuri, their commander, personally carried out the orders he gave.
"Laurent."
"Yes, sir."
"You're my opponent."
"Gladly."
And so, the training of Briol began.
The knights taught the soldiers mana method and swordsmanship, and at times, sparred among themselves to improve their mastery.
Residents of Balshad and members of the Allied Army loitered near the Briol forces, watching the training.
Yuri crossed swords with Laurent. A pleasant fatigue swept through his whole body.
"Laurent, you're as strong as ever."
"Your Highness is even more impressive."
Since beginning his second life, Yuri had yet to find a peer among those his age. But Laurent was a talent that could challenge him.
Especially because their sword forms were entirely different, they could observe each other's styles and improve their weaknesses.
Even among knights who pursued the path with such integrity, one like Laurent was rare.
For Yuri, whose raw swordsmanship had been shaped through mercenary years and the heart-soul slash, it was a refreshing stimulus.
In the past, he had lacked the insight to see Laurent's true worth.
"Well, you were certainly clean when you slit my throat."
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind."
Yuri lowered his wooden sword slightly and looked at Laurent.
Clashing swords with him made Yuri reconsider all the little details he had overlooked.
"Your Highness uses a sword in a way I could never hope to imitate. Truly amazing. Sometimes, with your reflexes, you don't seem quite human."
Yuri wanted to say, You're the same.
Laurent's swordsmanship was incredibly precise.
"But because of that, I learn a lot."
"Same for me."
Laurent straightened his back.
"I thought I had kept my pride in check, but seeing Your Highness, I realize it wasn't enough."
Though his balance hadn't crumbled, Yuri maintained a slight edge throughout. It was an unfamiliar feeling for Laurent.
Yuri shrugged.
Well, it's his second life—this much was to be expected.
"Let's go again."
"Sure."
At some point, a crowd had gathered around them.
It was rare to witness a duel between knights of this level. And these two would shoulder Briol's future.
"Whew…"
Yuri cleared his mind and focused on Laurent. He took in even a single strand of his fluttering golden hair.
Laurent controlled every inch of his body to draw in his opponent. Perhaps it was that perfectionist nature that had brought him to where he stood now.
Then what about himself?
As Yuri raised his sword, he once again reflected on the true nature of the heart-soul slash.
Mana drew thinly from the core in his heart.
He controlled the flow of mana from beginning to end.
Though Yuri was innately gifted with mana control, he hadn't pushed it this far before. It consumed too much mental energy.
An uncomfortable sensation followed.
This wouldn't allow for a prolonged fight.
Yet, his image of battle became clearer.
"Here I come."
Laurent took the first strike. It was fairly aggressive.
It was his effort to resemble Yuri's strengths.
"Come on."
Yuri raised his wooden sword and poured what he felt through Laurent into his technique.
The heart-soul slash required imagination.
As Yuri envisioned the future, the heart-soul slash moved toward it, and his body acted it out.
But with mana control, his mental image surpassed imagination and approached something more real.
It was almost prophetic.
Yuri widened his eyes.
The two swords clashed.
In that instant, Laurent's wooden sword flew from his grip and spun through the air.
Something had happened.
Laurent looked at Yuri with wide eyes and an open mouth. His golden hair scattered in the wind.
It was the most foolish expression Yuri had ever seen on him.
"What was that…?"
Yuri chuckled softly and sat down on the ground. Controlling his mana to that extreme had drained him.
"How did you read my sword path?"
"Just lucky."
It wasn't modesty, but truth.
What he had just accomplished was mostly luck. It wasn't yet usable in real combat.
Laurent glanced between his embedded sword and Yuri.
"Your Highness."
"Hm?"
"Let's go again."
"I'm tired."
"Let's do it again."
"I said I don't have the strength…"
"Please, get up!"
"Hey, hey—"
As Laurent tried to force him up, Yuri flailed.
"Someone stop him!"
But no one took Yuri's side. Quite the opposite.
"Please rise, Your Highness."
"Show us one more time."
"What was that just now?"
"Get up!"
"I didn't see it properly!"
Like spectators pushing a gladiator back into the arena, everyone urged Yuri to raise his sword again.
In the end, he was dragged to his feet, sword in hand, and forced to stand in front of Laurent.
Something felt off. He was a prince, a commander—so why was he being thrown into the Colosseum like this?
"Here I come again. Ha!"
Laurent swung his sword.
Yuri tried to repeat what he had just done, but he failed. In the end, Laurent's sword struck his chest. A sharp pain radiated through his ribs.
"Gahk!"
As Yuri collapsed, Laurent panicked.
"W-wait, Your Highness?"
"I told you to go easy…"
"Are you alright?"
"No…"
Seated and groaning, Yuri glared at the spectators who had pushed for the duel. They were already turning their backs and walking away, as if nothing had happened.
"You bastards…, ngh…"
It hurt so much he couldn't even yell.
Still crouching and groaning, Yuri muttered,
"Go call Ernando…"
"Yes, sir!"
Laurent took off like a shot.
Yuri stayed where he was, looking up at the sky.
He might have been bruised, but he had gained something.
Through Laurent's swordsmanship, he had caught a glimpse of a new realm of the heart-soul slash.
A saying from his mercenary days came to mind.
'When three people walk together, one of them is always trash.'
Which meant, there was something to learn from the other two. Though he might be stronger than Laurent now, this spar had yielded a great harvest.
"Your Highness."
Suddenly, someone approached, casting a shadow over him.
"That was an impressive technique."
When he looked up, it was Jose, a knight of Bursen. He vaguely remembered seeing him among the spectators. That build was impossible to miss.
"Your Highness, I have a request."
"What is it?"
"I would like to spar with you as well…"
"No."
Yuri forgot the pain and stood up abruptly.
"I'm done."
"E-even later would be fine."
"I have too many affairs to tend to."
"Just once…"
"I'll lend you Jared instead."
***
The Holy Kingdom entered Balshad, and following that, troops from every nation began to gather.
The Royal Mage erected a flagpole for the Allied Army. With the Empire's flag at the forefront, the emblems of countless nations fluttered in the wind of the plains.
Yuri looked up at Briol's flag.
It was a simplified silhouette of a mounted knight.
A trivial image, perhaps, but under that flag, many had staked their lives in battle.
"Greetings."
"Ah, yes."
"Please excuse me for a moment."
Suddenly, soldiers from another nation gave a polite bow to Yuri and began raising a new flagpole.
"Which country is that?"
"Liberda."
It bordered Bursen. Now that the two nations from the western edge had arrived, it was safe to say the Allied Army was nearly complete.
Just then, a Briol soldier came running up to Yuri with news.
"Your Highness!"
"What is it?"
"The commander-in-chief of the Allied Army has arrived."
"Really?"
Though the Empire had deployed troops to Balshad early, the real commander arrived fashionably late.
Yuri already knew who it would be.
Imperial Prince Ragna—half-brother to the current emperor, and uncle to Ekaterina.
He was someone Yuri had met once in a previous life.
It had been at a royal villa, when he was secretly meeting Ekaterina and holding her hand.
They were caught by Ragna, who had suddenly paid a visit.
Ragna was a large man, nothing like what one would expect of imperial blood.
He had stared at Yuri with piercing eyes and asked,
'Do you really like her?'
His tone was strange.
Perhaps Ragna had already known something back then.
'Yes. I do.'
Yuri had answered proudly.
Though he was royalty of Briol, he was merely the Third Prince. Compared to Ekaterina's background, he was nothing. But at that time, he had nothing to his name and yet plenty of boldness.
'I see.'
Ragna had simply nodded and turned away.
That was it.
Rumors of Yuri and Ekaterina's relationship never spread.
He was a man of depth.
"I should've noticed then, the way he looked at me so pitifully…"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. The commander-in-chief is Imperial Prince Ragna, right?"
"Yes, sir. How did you know?"
"Because I see right through the Empire's affairs."
"Wow…"
"By the way, today's lunch menu is beef radish soup and stir-fried ham and vegetables. I've also checked the status of the mess hall."
"Ooooh…"
"Off you go."
"Yes, I'll run there immediately."
"Take it slow."
"Sir?"
"You'll just be going back to training anyway. Now's the perfect time to slack off."
"You really are amazing, Your Highness. I'll take three steps and rest between each one."
The informal exchange caught the attention of the Liberda soldiers. Such a relationship was unheard of in other nations.
"What are you looking at?"
"N-nothing."
Yuri crossed his arms and observed Liberda's flag-raising ceremony. Without any formalities, they simply hoisted the flag with effort.
"Not much to it."
After memorizing all the nations participating in the Allied Army, Yuri turned away.
The sunlight was harsh, so he moved toward the shade between two buildings near the flagpoles.
"Is the flag going up properly?"
"Yes! It is!"
"Looks crooked to me."
"It's not!"
"What do you mean it's not, you rascal."
Yuri circled back quietly, peeking his head out.
A flamboyantly dressed man was scolding the soldiers as they stood at attention.
"The angle's off. Are you mocking Liberda's flag?"
"No, sir!"
"Then why did you do it?"
"I'm sorry!"
"Why do something worth apologizing for?"
"I'm sorry!"
"Does saying sorry end your service?"
"No, sir!"
Absolutely rotten.
From how adeptly he berated them, he seemed to be a knight of some standing in Liberda.
"Whatever. Let's see the flags. A lot have arrived. What's that one?"
He looked up at the flagpole. Someone who appeared to be his adjutant answered.
"That's the Empire."
"You think I don't know that? I meant the one next to it."
"That would be Bursen."
"What?"
He frowned.
"Why are those fish-smelling country bumpkins beside the Empire?"
"It seems to be in order of arrival, sir…"
"Just seeing those guys gives me a headache. Their shiny armor looks like fish scales crammed in a net."
"Indeed, sir."
"No wonder it started smelling fishy as soon as I got to Balshad."
Yuri pulled a small notebook and pencil from his coat.