Chapter 96
The day of Alma Drachenskrone's arrival was at hand, and Axel and I were required to be present to receive her.
Of course, we only stood to the side, at the most distant position of the two rows of soldiers. It was really only Draven who was in a high enough position to receive the Imperial Princess.
A therian taking on such a role could be seen as disrespectful, but from what I had heard, Alma only cared about capability. In a way, Draven was a better choice than some high-born noble who had never seen combat.
“Now presenting the second daughter of His Majesty, Alma Drachenskrone!”
A lone armoured man stood in the middle of the western gate entrance, loudly shouting for all to hear. It came across more like the barking of a drill sergeant than a royal introduction.
Immediately afterwards, more similarly equipped soldiers came marching in. Their footsteps quaked the ground, the vibrations travelling up my legs. They did not carry the refined elegance that such a procession usually would, and all of them had visible damage to their armour.
But this only further gave credence to the impression that this was a battle-hardened army, not some fluffed-up entourage of nepo-babies.
My curious, analytical mind automatically began assessing their equipment, and lack thereof.
Heavy armour for all infantrymen. Even the archers were more well-protected than usual. There was no cavalry at all, although many men had wardogs walking alongside them. In the centre was a bizarre-looking carriage that appeared more like a travelling torture device than anything.
Behind them all were a series of smaller carriages loaded with various boxes. Most were wooden and probably contained basic rations and everyday items. But what caught my eye were the smaller, iron boxes that appeared to weigh significantly more. These were flanked by spellcasters and were pulled by two large rhinoceros-looking beasts with six legs.
I knew of them as imperial beasts of war bred specifically for sieges. They were simply referred to as ironhoofs, named for their metallic carapace and immense weight.
They came to a stop after they had all entered the town, and only then did the large central carriage open from the inside.
But the door sat an awkward distance up from the ground, and nobody appeared in the doorway to descend.
That is, until the carriage itself groaned and twisted itself until an iron staircase had been formed to allow its master passage.
I heard several men swallow loudly as their heads shifted slightly to observe the woman who emerged from the foreboding contraption.
There was no need to question her identity. From the deep, violet eyes brimming with mana to the sparkling silver hair, her physical appearance clearly marked her as imperial royalty.
Her clothing was far more 'military leader' than 'princess', but it contained just enough regal bearing to differentiate her from her followers.
But the thing that captured my attention—and concern—was the two weapons tucked into her belt. They appeared just like the flintlock pistols I had seen in Earth's history.
I hoped I was wrong, as Arden didn't have firearms as far as I had been able to discover. If they become accessible, it would severely upset the power balance in the world.
But no matter how I looked at them, there was no other name that came to mind than “gun”.
“Your Highness!”
Draven saluted her respectfully.
“Draven Pancia, at your service!”
Alma looked at him with a stern expression.
“Mhmm. I know who you are. I still lament the day you slaughtered the ogre of Rathjen, for I was not present to witness your skill in battle.”
She nodded approvingly and immediately shifted gears.
“The damages do not appear to be as severe as an attack this size would suggest. There are barely any bloodstains in sight.”
She pushed her boot into a near-invisible stain on the road.
“There are only ten people in Borderton capable of magical healing, and yet there are so few wounded here. Is this the doing of Faelora’s favoured child? Or have you already disposed of the deceased and sickly?”
Draven opened his mouth, but there was a flicker of hesitation wherein he glanced my way. Alma signalled for him to hold his tongue and glared at me instead.
Not knowing what the polite thing to do in that situation was, I simply maintained eye contact and waited for permission to speak.
But the moment passed without another word as she turned back to Draven.
“I understand we have Solean hostages? Good thinking, this should buy us time.”
Again, Draven looked my way, but he did not say anything about it being my idea. Honestly, I was thankful for that in the moment.
“I want you to gather every Kronenvolk of gold rank and above in the courtyard. They will be offered a chance to volunteer their service. The rest are to be sent to Kronenstadt for transfer. Their papers have already been filled out.”
She snapped her fingers, and a soldier opened up one of the boxes to reveal piles of neatly stacked binders.
“I will leave it to the teachers to hand these out.”
Alma declared.
“Your Highness, you said Kronenvolk?”
Draven queried. That had caught my attention, too.
“Indeed. Make it clear that it was by the grace of the royal family that their travel expenses have been paid for, and their next year of tutelage will be free, regardless of status.”
Her manner of speech was domineering, making the statement sound less magnanimous than the gesture implied.
Perhaps because of my own nature, I felt this act obscured some other intent, but nothing in particular came to mind.
“What of the Soleans?”
Draven asked.
“Tell them nothing of the transfer. Once all Kronenvolk are gathered, I want the Soleans herded to the opposite end of campus, where I will address them personally.”
Her entourage immediately began moving as one. As if some subtle tell from Alma had spurred them all into disciplined action.
They unloaded the supplies, reported to their immediate superiors for placement, and wasted no time in relieving the rest of us.
One such armoured man approached me.
“Good work, brother. Rest now, for soon there will be no time for it.”
Both his voice and the hand he placed on my shoulder held such weight behind them that it felt only natural to obey. But before I could respond, Alma intervened.
“Not him.”
The soldier saluted her and walked away without another word to me.
“Axel Lionheart. Rex Jaeger. With me.”
Axel was also being spoken to by a soldier, but they similarly moved away the moment Alma spoke.
Alma waited expectantly in the centre of the movement, and we wasted no time reporting to her.
“You are the new junior knights?”
Her hard gaze moved between us, but lingered a half-second longer on Axel.
“I’ll make one thing clear: no matter what my father may think of your capabilities, I will not be swayed until I have personally assessed your worth. You defeated the Gladewarden? So what. Men half your strength have accomplished twice as much through dumb luck alone, and gone on to get good men killed due to misplaced faith in their supposed .”
She looked to Axel and addressed him directly.
“I hear you killed many of your own during the conflict. I’m sure you think this proves your allegiance, but I assure you it does not. I have read your file, Lionheart. I believe you are a reckless, dangerous existence who seeks nothing more than the thrill of death.”
Axel looked down at her, a slight smirk cracking through his relaxed exterior. He at least had the good judgment not to speak yet, allowing Alma to continue.
“Most would never be foolish enough to let you participate in such a conflict. I, however, am of the opinion that you are easier to use than the common man. Fight well for me, and I will see to it you are on the front lines as much as possible.”
Axel saluted.
“Thank you, ma’am!”
Alma then faced me. Again, there was only a slight shift in her expression, but it still felt like she was displeased to see me.
“Rex Jaeger. Druid.”
She scoffed openly.
“As if that title means anything these days. Yours is a forgotten practice precisely because modern advancements have overtaken it."
Her scrutiny did not end there.
"Your personal history leaves a seven-year gap that even my sources were not able to shed light on. You have achieved some success since your enrollment, but that success is suspect in itself. Still…”
Her eyes slowly scanned me up and down.
“I do approve of your willingness to employ drastic measures to win, and my father regarded you highly, so there must be something more to you than folk tales of shapeshifters in the woods. Ordinarily, I would not accept such an unknown entity into my service. You have your emperor to thank for this opportunity.”
I silently saluted.
“Both of you have a lot to prove to me before I embrace you. Walk with me.”
She spun on her heel and began a brisk walk towards the IMA. Perhaps it was due to her long legs, which gave her a longer stride, but I was forced to awkwardly power-walk to keep up.
“We have a busy day ahead, and you two will be shadowing me. This is both a chance for you to learn and for me to assess your worth. Do try not to slow me down.”
She did not turn to speak, only remaining fixed on her destination while trusting that we were obediently hanging on to her words.
“Your first task is simple. Get the roster for all branch campus students with Soleo origins, then meet me in the chapel.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
As if she timed the order with her walking pace, she swept out her arm and pointed to the main building door at just the right time. She did not so much as slow her pace, though, and immediately broke away from us to go to the chapel.
We quickly made our way inside, rifled through Lisa Stern's desk until we found what we wanted, then met back with Alma.
Stern herself was still unaccounted for, so neither Axel nor I spared much caution in ransacking the office, making it a quick job.
“Timely arrival. I like that.”
Alma grabbed the roster out of my outstretched hands and placed it on a table. That same table also held atop it a variety of random knick-knacks. They seemed meaningless at a glance, but I recognised them immediately.
“These are the sentimental belongings of the dead.”
She raised a brow at me.
“Correct. How did you know?”
“I assisted in processing the dead for a while.”
“Are you considering a life with the clergy? Leave such matters to those of the cloth.”
She pulled out a broken knife handle and showed us the hilt. It had “G.S.” engraved there.
She then flipped the roster to a position about two-thirds of the way through.
“Surnames starting with S. The nobles have their parents' names recorded below. Here, look.”
She spun the book to face us, her finger pointing to “Gordon Shearer”.
“That's the only G.S. recorded. Odds are good they are the father of this student.”
Axel scratched his throat with an impatient look.
“So? You want us to return it? There are tons of people with those initials. What makes you think this knife is this guy's dad?”
“I don't care if it is or not.”
Alma replied bluntly.
“We just need to make think it be. Go through these, find any that can identify their owners, then cross-reference to the roster. Order them accordingly. I'll be waiting by the sports field when you're done.”
With no further explanation, she marched straight out of the chapel.
“...What the hell? This blows.”
Axel grumbled openly and gave her the finger behind her back.
“It's grunt work, but what choice do we have?”
I fell straight into the task. Out of a sense of duty, but just because I also wanted it over with.
“Tch! Does anything ever piss you off, man? How can you stomach this?”
“Your frustration would be put to better use by moving your hands, don't you think?”
He rolled his eyes and begrudgingly joined me.
It was slow going, monotonous work.
“Ahhhh! How many hours has it been?”
Axel asked for the thousandth time.
“One and a half.”
I responded calmly while inspecting a wedding band with dried blood on the inside.
“Where the hell are the priests? Can't we get Isolde and Tilly to do this crap?”
He continued venting.
“They're probably being rounded up with the others. The school nurses are receiving their own briefing.”
“Huh? How would you know?”
I just looked at him. He noticed my feline pupils, and then it clicked.
“Y-you asshole! You're looking through Tia's eyes while I'm stuck fiddling with some dead guy's junk!”
“That is a fair and accurate statement.”
I said with a barely contained smirk.
“Gah! You gotta teach me that. How about this, when I win our fight, you teach me druid crap.”
“And if I win?”
“I become your workout coach.”
“No, no, no. I get that just for agreeing to fight in the first place. If I win, I should get something extra.”
“Fine, fine… How about I let you marry my sister?”
“Met her. Not interested.”
“...Oi.”
The distinct sound of lightning crackling forced me to look up.
“What's wrong with Sera, huh?”
His false smile held only contempt, and those eyes would haunt me for days to come.
“How about this…”
I moved the topic away from Seraphina.
“If I win, you have to teach me how you use aura.”
His sudden hostility vanished, and he considered my offer.
“You could do that with a bunch of other teachers.”
“No. I want to understand how specifically do it.”
Honestly, this was just a whim that I only brought up out of curiosity. I knew that I lacked the personality required to manifest even a shred of aura, but it was always possible I could do so while fused or linked. If that ever did come to pass, it might be feasible for me to manually replicate Axel's Gift by cycling between different links.
That was why I felt it was best to learn the method of the man himself, rather than go through the standard process.
“Alright. That's no bother to me.”
He held out his hand, and I took it. This was a mistake. He clamped down and pulled me in forcibly.
“So what's wrong with Sera? Not good enough for you?”
I sighed, dislocated my own arm, and slipped free of his grasp before locking everything back in place.
“I don't like the idea of dating my friend's sister. Or noble ladies. So, a noble lady who happens to be my friend's sister is a big no for me.”
He snorted at my excuse.
“You a noble, idiot. You're gonna be expected to marry a noble woman at some point.”
“I don't care what is expected of me. I can't be bothered playing family politics for the rest of my life. Give me a nice, simple commoner girl any day of the week.”
“Yeah, I get that, but why not have the nice, simple girl, a host of other hotties? Noble blood's gotta be spread and all. It's practically irresponsible to have just one wife.”
I looked at him with a frown.
“Multiple partners? That sounds like an aneurysm waiting to happen. One partner at a time. how I like it.”
“Yeah, yeah, have it your way… Hey…”
“What?”
“How many hours has it been?”
I snickered at him and returned to my work.
***
We finished our job after a little over two hours and headed out to the sports field. There, Klaus, Draven, and Felicia seemed to have just finished reporting something to Alma, who sat with Imperial dignity on the stands above them.
She looked our way and silently signalled for the others to leave.
“Hey, Rex!”
“Hey, Felicia.”
We greeted one another as a matter of habit as we passed, but otherwise, there was no interaction between our groups.
“Done?”
Alma's piercing eyes bore down on us. We nodded quietly in unison.
“...Draven just informed me this was all your idea. Quite heartless to use your peers as hostages.”
I kept that thought to myself and simply waited for the question in her statement to present itself.
“Do you know what type of soldier is best used to bring down a kingdom?”
I couldn't tell if that was a follow-up or if she had abruptly changed the topic.
“The ones without morals.”
Axel answered quickly.
“The ones who don't know their own use.”
My answer was intentionally vague, as I expected it didn't matter to begin with.
“Clarify.”
Her words cut through the air like a guillotine, and her focus shifted solely on me. Surprised, I worded it a little more coherently.
“To kill a swordsman, use a bow. To kill a king, use poison. To destroy a kingdom, use its own people. The point is to use whatever method the target will struggle to defend against. If you incite the masses against their leaders, you can crumble a government from within. The only defence is to bring the hammer down on your own people, which is no defence at all when a hostile army sits at your border.”
I shrugged after summarising it as best I could.
“...Good. Very good.”
The slightest of smiles graced Alma's features, and I saw her for the first time as the stunning beauty that lurked behind the strict taskmaster.
But is faded just as quickly.
“What I am about to do will turn the stomachs of many. Even so, do not to intervene. Just shut up, watch, and do as I say.”
She whistled loud enough to hurt my ears, and at her cue, Klaus and Draven returned with a trail of anxious-looking students in tow.
They were assembled before us, and it didn't take long for me to confirm it was only Soleans gathered there. Although I still did not spot Oliver anywhere…
“I'm sure you're all wondering who I am, and why I am speaking to you all away from the others.”
Alma addressed them and began pacing back and forth. From just this opening, I had already picked up on a change in how she presented herself. She was more animated in her movements and less severe in her tone.
“I am Alma Drachenskrone. Imperial Princess and recently appointed commander of the Borderton warfront. I will state this plainly so there is no more speculation on your part. The Black Crown Empire is officially at war with Soleo.”
The crowd began chattering nervously. Surely, they already knew this was inevitable, but having it confirmed by an authority figure held a different kind of weight.
“We have only recently finished processing the dead. Although some are in an unidentifiable state…”
She held for a moment, letting their imaginations fill in the blanks.
“It is with my sympathy that I must announce that we have confirmed the deaths of those with whom some of you may share relations…”
She gestured behind the crowd towards the chapel, where Klaus was seen dragging out the tables Axel and I had been working over.
Alma then cut through the crowd and picked up the nearest item: a torn handkerchief with someone's initials embroidered into it.
“Is there a James Ayers here?”
Nobody stepped forward, but many eyes turned to one third year boy.
“You there. Are you the son of Jeremy Ayers?”
Alma spoke with a hint of sadness. Not so much that it felt cheesy, but just enough to come off as genuine.
The boy, who had been frozen in denial at first, slowly nodded his head.
“...This belongs with its family.”
She held out the object, and James took it with trembling hands.
“This… it's really his…”
This comment from the boy caused a ripple of unease in the crowd.
As for me, I had by this point begun to grasp Alma's intent. Calling it a callous display of two-faced heartlessness didn't do it justice, but I would withhold further criticism until I understood the larger picture.
Alma continued to call out names one by one, intentionally dragging it out and causing further unease to fester. Eventually, the students could wait no longer.
“This is mine! See? . It has my brother's name right there!”
“That's his first name, you fool! It is clearly a keepsake of the Wesley family!”
“No… no… father, why did you come?”
The emotional range was varied, but typically it was anger, despair, hatred, and mourning that was reflected back towards Axel and I.
“...Hey, Rex. How many of those could we confidently say are legit?”
“No more than 30%. We forced more matches than we verified.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
We didn't look at one another, nor did we allow our faces to express anything other than grim stoicism.
But our hands, which were clasped firmly behind our backs, provided the soil with crimson nourishment.
***
The spectacle ended, and all the keepsakes had been claimed. The sheer number of students who cradled worthless trinkets with tears in their eyes sickened me. I was fine with committing a sinful act for the greater good, but I had no faith that Alma’s deception would produce results that justified what she had done.
But correcting the misunderstanding at that point would be equally horrendous, and embroil Borderton in a level of chaos that could easily escalate into another conflict between nations. And so, Axel and I could only watch as the students dispersed, and Alma rejoined us.
“You seem displeased.”
She commented coldly while looking at Axel.
My own expression must have been unreadable, as she made no mention of me.
“That’s an understatement.”
Axel’s voice was like the rolling of thunder.
“What the hell was the point of doing all that? They’ll find out the truth eventually.”
“Naturally.”
Alma responded bluntly.
“What of it? They aren’t our allies anymore, so I have no reason to care about their future. Their emotions will drive them the rest of the way towards my goal, and they will either do as I wish and tear our foes apart from within or turn their hate on us. We are already at war regardless, so I benefit either way.”
The rolling thunder gave way to a strike of lightning, and Axel’s fist reeled back.
But Alma used the moment to prove exactly why she held the position she did.
She stepped forward and locked Axel’s arm with her own, and with a swift leg sweep followed by a twist of the forearm, Axel was pinned to the ground. Alma drew one of her pistols and pressed the barrel to the side of Axel’s head.
“I am willing to overlook your outburst this one time…”
She then pointed the gun at the top of the chapel, where an angelic statue watched over the place, and pulled the trigger.
But contrary to my expectation, it was not a bullet that was fired, but a condensed blast of raw mana. Not only was it powerful enough to scatter the statue into pieces, but it also left behind a crystalline form of mana that clung to the area around the impact zone.
Axel froze in awe, momentarily forgetting his precarious position, and Alma finished her sentence.
“I give all those beneath me a single chance to adapt to change. Those who cannot do so are not needed. Are we clear?”
Axel nodded silently.
“Good. Let us forget the past thirty seconds.”
She let him go and casually addressed us as she had before.
“I have already sent word to Soleo that the students who wish to return are free to do so, and will even receive an escort to the midway point between Farrowgate and Borderton. From there, Soleo has been invited to take over the duty and bring them the rest of the way home.”
“When will this take place?”
I asked.
“Two days from now. If no response arrives, and Soleo does not meet us in good faith. We will simply leave them to walk the rest of the way there.”
“Two days? Considering the travel time, you essentially demanded that Soleo send people out today or they’ll miss the deadline.”
She smirked at my comment, and no sooner had the words left my mouth than I understood that this was the intention.
“You’re a dangerous person.”
I shook my head with a wry smile.
“What? What am I missing here?”
Axel kept his frustrations out of his tone, but he could not hide his curiosity.
“Go on, Rex. Prove to me you understand my motives.”
Alma crossed her arms and waited.
“Alright then… She has already put the Solean students in a state of distress while appearing as an impartial, even sympathetic factor. Many will be angry at the empire, but letting them stew in these feelings while living among the Kronenvolk, who have done nothing to harm or subjugate them, will raise questions. She leaves them to stew just long enough for their anger to be redirected to Soleo, who caused all of this, then kicks them out before that rage can fade or circle back around to us.”
I paused to ensure I was right up until that point, and seeing Alma’s approving nod, I continued.
“By sending that message to Soleo, she has the excuse that she gave advance notice of what was happening and where they needed to be, but the timeframe given is clearly unfair. At least, it is clear to us. To the belligerent masses, logic doesn’t apply, meaning we will likely end up with a couple hundred angry Soleans forced to walk for two or three days with nobody to release their anger out on but the Farrowgate government.”
Alma chuckled lightly.
“So, Father wasn’t all talk. You really do have a mind like ours.”
She stepped closer to me.
“So? How do you envision this plan unfolding?”
“It’s unreliable at best. I wouldn’t even put the odds at 50%. All it would take is one person to receive confirmation that their supposedly deceased relative is still alive, and all that work backfires on you.”
I spoke plainly.
“Oh? But on the flip side, once someone confirms they really have lost someone, the hysteria will further muddy the waters of what is true, no?”
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. I responded calmly.
“The odds of that are much lower. Besides, we need to consider the larger picture. If we do things right, we can force Soleo to surrender and renew the alliance. But once this gets out, Soleans will never trust Imperial royalty again.”
A tense silence followed.
“Hm. Not a bad perspective. I will make good use of you. I truly thought it would be the traitor who was more worthy of my eye.”
She appeared satisfied, but the way her predatory, unblinking gaze lingered on me sent a shiver down my spine.
“That will be all for today. But do not retire to comfort. I expect you both to commit at least eight hours a day to your training.”
She turned to leave, but Axel called out to stop her.
“Ma’am! We have a favour to ask.”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“Speak your next words carefully. I owe no favours.”
“We intend to have a duel to mark our promotion. We would like you to watch over the fight.”
Her smile widened.
“Interesting. Return here come nightfall, this is a favour I will be happy to grant you.”
With that, my last hope for escape was snuffed out.
