Yuri arrived at the Castle of the Archmage Duke.
A long table had been set in the banquet hall where they once enjoyed dinner, and the commanders of each nation had taken their seats.
Yuri quietly sat down.
Across from him, Sibylla and Jonathan gave him a nod. Yuri responded with a small dip of his head.
The head seat remained empty, as Ragna had yet to arrive.
The atmosphere was heavy.
It seemed that, rather than exchanging cheerful greetings at the first gathering of commanders, everyone had chosen to build their presence.
They must have become familiar with each other's faces by now, but no one acknowledged anyone.
As Yuri sat in silence, he turned to the person next to him and spoke.
"Where are you from?"
His voice wasn't loud, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
The man, unaware that he was being addressed, turned his gaze.
"Pardon?"
"Which country are you from?"
"Ah, I…."
He placed his hand on his chest.
"I'm Wolf Gane of Liberta. Count Abra, to be precise."
It was presumed he was the father of Sven Gane, who was infamous for gossip. Seeing that father and son had come together, it seemed their family had staked its fate on this expedition against the orcs.
"And you, sir…?"
"Ah, I'm…."
Even if from different nations, royalty is treated differently. Yuri spoke informally right away.
"Commander of Briol forces, Third Prince Yuri Briol."
"I see. It's an honor to meet you."
"You're Sven Gane's father?"
"You know my son…?"
A trace of worry appeared on his face.
From the way he worried first, it seemed his son caused trouble regularly.
Yuri told a well-meaning lie for the sake of everyone's happiness.
"I happened to cross paths with him and greeted him. He's achieved a lot for his age."
"Hahaha…."
"He had great momentum. I'm sure he'll accomplish much in the Allied Army."
"You flatter me."
Hearing praise for his son, the man's expression brightened. A smile spread across his face.
As Yuri and Wolf continued speaking, the surrounding commanders also began to chat among themselves.
Voices gradually filled the room.
The atmosphere was entirely different from before Yuri had entered.
Wolf asked,
"Did you speak to me on purpose? The frozen mood seems to have thawed."
"We'll be fighting together with our lives on the line. What's the point of keeping up appearances?"
"That's very wise of you."
"I wouldn't say it's wisdom."
Yuri leaned back in his chair.
"If we head to battle like this, we'll all die."
Wolf nodded deeply.
"I agree. Everyone is underestimating the orcs, and that won't do."
"Do you know about orcs?"
"Yes, I've encountered them before. At that time…."
The two exchanged opinions on the Allied Army. Unlike his son, the father was easy to talk to.
As the voices grew louder and the hall became more rowdy, no one noticed someone entering through the doors.
Only when the man sat at the head seat did people fall silent and turn their gaze.
Ice-blue eyes swept across the room.
They were so clear, one felt they might reveal one's innermost thoughts.
In contrast, his body was large and imposing.
His broad shoulders were draped in a red cloak symbolizing the imperial family, and the gold lion insignia embroidered atop it distorted along the folds.
The emperor's half-brother and supreme commander of the Allied Army—
Ragna Gustav Granjay.
"The mood seems pleasant."
He spoke.
"That's why I entered quietly."
His eyes scanned the room.
The moment his gaze landed on Yuri, it felt like a chill passed through him.
"Do you need more time to talk?"
No one answered.
Ragna nodded alone and leaned back in his chair.
"Then I suppose I can speak now."
At the same time, he released his energy.
Overwhelming presence poured out. The pressure that suppressed the surroundings was characteristic of the Lion Heart Method, a signature of the Empire.
Those of lower cultivation took a sharp breath.
"I am Ragna, Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Army."
Ragna said, then gave a low chuckle. It was a laugh no one could understand.
"Well, that's how it turned out."
Then he stood up.
It was like a mountain peak rising.
Everyone here was renowned as a knight and physically built, but even among them, Ragna stood significantly taller.
"I'll say this in advance. I hate cowards. There won't be any cooperation anyway, so fight with valor. Anyone who runs—I'll cut down myself."
Yuri looked at him.
Their eyes met.
Ragna studied Yuri for a moment before looking away.
"Whatever title you hold, it means nothing to me. You're all the same as knights. You'll be given roles befitting your skill, and your deeds will be rewarded accordingly."
Ragna's stance was, on the surface, rational.
Armies from multiple nations do not blend easily. Better to let them compete.
But this was a method permitted only to the strong.
The orcs were by no means weaker than the Allied Army. That's why, in his past life, the Allied Army had failed.
Yuri clenched and then relaxed his fist.
"Any questions?"
Ragna asked.
Amid the silence, Yuri opened his mouth.
"Yes."
Ragna looked at him. The other commanders followed his gaze.
"What's your question?"
His tone was rough, but Yuri didn't mind.
He understood Ragna's nature. Strictly speaking, he was the uncle of his ex-girlfriend.
Ekaterina had told him many things.
Ragna liked those who stood tall.
Best was being skilled and dignified. Next best, even without skill, was raising one's head proudly.
Better that than being capable but servile.
"What understanding does the Empire have of the orcs' strength?"
At Yuri's question, Ragna smirked.
"Kid. Who are you?"
"Commander of the Briol forces, Yuri Briol."
"Briol."
Ragna tilted his head, then rubbed his chin as if he remembered something.
"So you're the one Georg mentioned. How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"A green brat who hasn't even shed his baby fuzz, serving as commander."
A few chuckled softly at his remark.
Ragna glared at them.
"Still, that brat's better than the rest."
"..."
"Better than those who couldn't even open their mouths."
Those who had been called out fell silent and lowered their heads.
Ragna stood up.
"Seems reasonable to me. We should know our enemy before we fight. Ah, unless you all already know more than the Empire? Got better intel, did you?"
Ragna stepped behind Yuri and placed both hands on his shoulders. It felt like ancient roots had planted themselves there.
"I'll be brief. A guy named Okua has appeared. He's subjugated the three largest tribes and is swiftly swallowing the rest. His power is enough to threaten the entire continent. Meaning, our chances of victory aren't that high."
The hall was quiet.
But it was not due to concern over the orcs' strength—it was fear of Ragna that caused the silence.
No one even considered the possibility of losing to the orcs.
Yuri closed his eyes.
This is why he had to come.
If he wanted to change the future, he had to do it himself.
"I'll send a full report separately. Kid, is that enough explanation?"
"Yes."
Yuri nodded.
Ragna was gripping his shoulders tightly, but he showed no pain and even smiled.
"It's enough."
Yuri's effort to get on Ragna's good side was so that he could earn the trust necessary to give him advice.
Ragna said,
"We depart the day after tomorrow."
It was a sudden announcement.
"Not far from Balshad, the orcs have set up camp. We could turn back, but I don't feel like doing that."
Ragna did not shy away from battle.
"Our Allied Army's first fight. As for the vanguard…."
Yuri felt the weight on his shoulders intensify.
"Will you take it, Yuri Briol?"
All eyes turned to him.
Even without words, their gazes spoke volumes. They had come hoping to earn merit by killing orcs. Everyone wanted to be the vanguard.
Yuri didn't particularly welcome Ragna's offer.
Being the vanguard would inevitably cause heavy casualties. The decision he made now would place more lives on his shoulders.
"…Yes."
But Yuri answered.
"I will gladly take the vanguard."
In any case, there was no such thing as a happy future for everyone.
He had come here to wage war.
His allies would die, and the enemy would die in greater numbers.
***
The moon once again hung in the sky.
Yuri was staring at the flickering campfire, lost in thought. Red silhouettes danced above his black pupils.
Since he remained silent and deep in thought, it was difficult to approach him casually.
"Your Highness."
Someone broke the silence and called out to him.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind."
Laurent came and sat beside him. He picked up a piece of firewood and tossed it into the flames as he asked,
"Is it because of the meeting earlier today?"
"Well…."
Yuri shook his head.
"Not really."
"Then what is it?"
"I'm waiting."
"For what…?"
At that moment, a soldier approached.
Sensing his presence, Yuri recognized him and his expression brightened. The gloom on his face lifted.
"Your Highness, here it is."
"What took you so long?"
"There was a delay in preparations…"
"Good job."
What Yuri received was a mess tin.
"You're not eating?"
"I—I should eat too."
"Ask him to help you. Get Laurent's as well."
"Understood."
The soldier ran off again and brought another serving for Laurent.
"Was that what had you looking so serious? Dinner?"
"I was just waiting."
"I thought it was something else…"
The two of them sat side by side and began eating. Ever since they removed exceptions from the meal distribution, even the knights had adapted to the standard rations.
"There are a lot of stars in the sky."
"It's the grasslands."
"Our unit's food must be getting a reputation."
"Seems like it."
Yuri and Laurent turned their heads at the same time. They had sensed someone approaching.
"Oh?"
It was Mariloz, the current Archmage Duchess of this generation and lord of Balshad.
She was walking over with Jonathan of Brusen.
"Is that your meal?"
Mariloz widened her eyes and looked down at Yuri and Laurent's mess tins.
It was prepared with care for a soldier's ration, but to a noble, it still looked pitiful.
"Yes."
"You're eating with regular soldiers?"
"That's right."
"Is Brusen like that too?"
"We dine separately."
"Why does Briol eat the same food for everyone?"
It was unusual for a noble—especially someone of royal blood—to eat the same food as common soldiers.
"Why so many questions?"
"I'm a mage, you know."
Mariloz straightened up and made a slow circle around the camp, then pointed to Yuri's tent, which bore the royal flag of Briol.
"You stay here?"
"That's right."
She immediately ran over and swept aside the curtain at the entrance. The spartan interior of the tent was revealed.
"What are you doing?"
"Just looking around."
Mariloz stuck her head inside, scanning the interior.
Yuri nudged Laurent's back.
"Get her out."
"Yes."
Laurent quickly stood up and approached.
Before he could stop her, Mariloz pulled the curtain closed again, clasped her hands behind her back, and turned around with a shrug.
"All done."
"The commander's tent is a restricted area."
"So what. I'm an ally."
"You sure?"
"Would I be on the orcs' side?"
"Maybe."
"I care a lot about looks."
Mariloz leaned forward, peering down at Yuri.
"Did you know? A person's room reflects their inner self."
"Then your room must be a disaster."
"Exactly the opposite. Covered in sparkling gems. But you, Your Highness, have a spartan room, eat bland food, and I hear you always lead from the front in battle?"
"You've been digging into me?"
"I just hear things."
Mariloz smiled sweetly.
"Why do you live like that?"
Depending on how it was taken, it could have been a rude question.
Quick-witted Jonathan swiftly stepped in as a neutral third party.
"I—I'm curious too. Why do you live so modestly? Truly admirable. A shining example, ha ha…"
"No one blames a prince for eating well. You don't have to do everything the same as the soldiers."
Yuri furrowed his brow.
Mariloz was chattering so much that he couldn't eat.
"They say even a dog isn't disturbed while eating…"
"You're not a dog."
Mariloz sat down across from Yuri.
Just then, a soldier came carrying a mess tin. Jonathan accepted his, but Mariloz shook her head.
With the campfire between them, Mariloz stared intently at Yuri.
"I'm asking because I'm curious. If you answer, I'll help you the day after tomorrow."
"How?"
"With magic. I'm better than that Ernando guy here. I'm an Archmage Duchess, you know?"
Yuri paused his spoon.
"Geez…"
He looked visibly annoyed. He stared silently at Mariloz.
"You really want to know that badly?"
"Yes."
"It's not much."
"That's okay."
"It'll be a disappointing answer. Will you still support me with full effort?"
"I follow the principle of good faith."
"Fine."
Yuri said.
"I'm going to die the day after tomorrow."
Everyone looked at him at the sudden statement.
Yuri jerked his chin toward the soldiers' barracks beyond the campfire.
"The day after tomorrow, someone will die. We're attacking as the vanguard. I made the decision, and because of that, more people will die or get hurt."
Yuri stood up.
Though he had returned to the past, he hadn't lived long enough to claim he knew everything about life and death. In fact, perhaps it was precisely because of that that he knew so little.
"I'm not here to get sentimental. But I won't deny the truth either."
From afar, the laughter of soldiers could be heard. Life goes on, even on the eve of battle.
Yuri looked up at the sky.
The stars shone in a long line.
If something had sent him back to the past, what could it possibly want from him?
"I'm only doing the bare minimum of what I ought to."
It was an unexpected confession.
Mariloz tilted her head.
Jonathan wore a blank expression.
Who would have thought that the Third Prince of Briol, who always seemed to act on his own whims, held such thoughts?
Laurent closed his eyes and murmured something under his breath. Then he stood up.
"Your Highness."
"What."
"The day after tomorrow, I will stand at your side."
"I'm fast, you know. Can you keep up?"
"Of course."
Laurent placed a hand over his heart.
The flickering of the fire reflected in his eyes.
"I, Laurent Flandre, will remain by Your Highness's side until the very end."