So, the plan takes shape, woven with Oscar's determination.
His hands, agile in the art of construction, direct the raising of a military fortress that stands on both peaks. But not all is serene in the mountains, for the beasts lurk in the shadows, challenging every step toward progress.
Despite the dangers, Oscar's will did not falter. With cunning and courage, they forged a path through the undergrowth and danger, protecting themselves with defensive crystals made by Roswaal.
The creatures, sensing the change, withdrew to the other side of the mountain, clustering in the half belonging to Costuul. The strategy is clear, but uncertainty hangs over my head like a cloud.
Will the enemies take both routes? The unknown hovers in the air, charged with tension and anticipation. Meanwhile, in the depths of the Elior Forest, the military base has already taken shape, its structures standing like silent guardians among the ancient trees.
The hearts of the soldiers resonate with the promise to protect their home and people, each one a pillar of strength in the battle to come. Six hundred soldiers, trained and ready for combat, line up in formation—a formidable force to be reckoned with.
Though their number is not overwhelming, their determination and armament make them a force to be reckoned with. But even in the certainty of preparation, the shadow of fear looms.
What will happen if they encounter an enemy impossible to defeat? The names of Julius and other magic knights are whispered in the nocturnal conversations, evoking images of power and skill beyond human understanding.
Reinhard, my friend, and the strongest person in this world, cannot participate. In fact, there will be no imperial knights at all. The empire remains a mere spectator, to enjoy the pleasures of the winner.
The rumors that Costuul has a trick up their sleeve are significant, instilling fear throughout the town. In the middle of the night, Otto and I are doing paperwork in the office. Both of us have been burning the midnight oil for several days to ensure everything goes perfectly.
The ministers, all heads of the administrative branch, have been working hard.
The days we don't work must be made up for somehow; we have to review contracts and also everything that needs to be delivered. And then, in the stillness of the night, a question weighs heavily on my shoulders, as heavy as a slab.
"Will bullets and conventional weapons be enough against those who can challenge the imperial knights?" Otto looks at me nervously, his eyes betraying the fear within.
"It might be, but I wouldn't bet on it."
The answers are elusive, like shadows dancing in the darkness. Bullets, designed with deadly precision, can pierce conventional steel, but what hope is there against steel fortified by magic, an art mastered by Costuul's enemies?
"It's true that not all imperial knights are strong. In fact, I myself could defeat several of them in battle. The problem lies with those who bypass the rule of strength, surpassing the sound barrier."
In my mind, the urgent need for a weapon capable of penetrating magical defenses clings like a claw. Anti-mana crystals offer a possibility, but their short-term effectiveness is questionable, a temporary solution in a world where time slips away like sand through fingers.
"Marco, do you think they have any aces up their sleeve?" Otto looks at me with concern as I stare at the papers on my desk.
We have intelligence information obtained by the Ministry of Press. Helena has managed to establish a good network of information, although it's not perfect, it has provided us with some clues about what's happening in Costuul.
The tension in the air is palpable as we consider the possibilities and prepare for what's to come. It seems they gathered approximately two thousand demihumans for the war.
If what I think is true, it's impossible for Costuul to provide magical armor to everyone; besides, it would be a waste of money.
"They have magical cannons, but we also have ours; magical projectiles are lethal." I tried producing several projectiles with Beatrice; applying a spell to an object is complicated, but with the information from Echidna's books on metia, we got several clues.
Puck was the only one who could make it seem so easy, but in the end, we also succeeded. Roswaal also collaborated, as he is an expert in this kind of aspect. The costs are high, but we dedicated a large part to research.
To produce a single projectile, ten kilograms of lamicta crystals of the material to be affected are necessary.
The costs are not only astonishing, but it's also necessary to gather the materials. Luckily, due to the steam machine, we have accumulated several crystals of different types.
"Ten magical projectiles, which we hope will be able to decimate in case there is any latent danger." I look towards the ceiling, pondering what plans they have.
Normal swords don't beat bullets, but magical swords do.
As often happens in novels, modern weapons are forgotten. Fortunately, this is reality. If magical weapons can defend against normal bullets, then I'll have to make magical bullets. All I need is to find a way to mass-produce them.
That's why I improved the weapons, but it's still not enough. If I had more time, I'm sure I could improve them further. It's been almost a year since I arrived; winter will come in a few months.
So much has happened in a year...
"If they have something planned, it has to do with the sages. Miklotov hasn't informed me of anything relevant; it seems they're already suspecting him."
Clearly, they won't tell him anything relevant; postponing the war by a month is not only convenient for me, but for them as well.
The war is only a week away; now, everything needs to go smoothly. Whatever they have planned doesn't seem to illuminate my path at all. The novel doesn't provide me with information, so this time, I'll have to wait and see what happens.
"We have to stay strong; our captains are well-trained. They may not be good in hand-to-hand combat, but in decision-making, marksmanship, and other aspects, they are highly trained soldiers."
Once this war is over, I plan to take a vacation. I want to go out with Beatrice and walk around Lugunica. I guess we could campaign while we do it. With the ministers busy, my administrative workload has decreased quite a bit.
"Do you think Rem will come back?" Otto asks, with a hint of dismay in his voice. The last we heard of Rem was through a letter that reached Ram, saying she's okay.
"The news of the war is just beginning to spread. I'm sure she won't be able to come back due to the blockades we're implementing from now on."
In order to avoid spies, we've closed the trade routes and only allow entry and exit of people escorted by soldiers. Rem could enter, but I specifically asked that she not be allowed to do so.
I don't want to involve her now that she's pursuing her dream.
The problem is that Costuul has copied our strategy and has also blocked their routes.
"She's likely to go to the capital or to some nearby town to wait for news." Thanks to the rise of the press in Lugunica, we've managed to establish various ways of sharing information and keeping people connected.
This was an intentional move. I formed branches in places of interest, as well as local teams to make news reports from the area. Helena has been in charge of contacting her friends, and now everything is going as planned.
Although we haven't developed long-distance information transmission methods yet, newspapers are requested among our allies and have become popular in several cities.
"We provide information about Lugunica and Irlam." People seem to accept and enjoy the biweekly edition of the newspaper, which is roughly how we gather information from different parts of Lugunica.
It's not costly to produce, and thanks to the automatic printing machine, we can generate a considerable number of newspapers. The steam machine will always be important, and the third version is almost finished.
More compact and efficient, incorporating various steel components and magical enhancements that increase its power. It's even cheaper to produce than the second version, whose lack of optimization caused its costs to soar.
Of course, I won't sell it yet. I'll wait a year, by which time I'll have a fourth version or something better to use for Irlam.
I walk through Irlam, seeing that everyone seems to be busy, a lively town full of all kinds of people. The stalls, the buildings under construction. More and more people will come to Irlam; I'm sure at some point we'll go from being a town to a city.
A small city, but soon we'll be bigger.
Irlam is growing exponentially, which is why I need political power. The meeting with Hermod was delayed by the war, but everything is going smoothly. The idea is also to form relationships with other countries, positive relationships that benefit Irlam.
I find myself in a restaurant, while I see the people waiting for me. Crusch and Emilia wave at me, while Beatrice looks at me with a smile. Once I sit down, they start talking.
"Did you see the news from the capital?" Crusch asks. "It seems that after the expansion of the newspaper, several people are distrusting Costuul's decisions. Several affected individuals have protested what happened, claiming that they did the same thing to them as they did to us."
"It's clear that Costuul's situation isn't good either, which is why the war is a crucial determinant," I indicate, explaining to Emilia. "Soon Costuul's practices will be revealed. While they're not morally good practices, the truth is that they didn't do anything completely illegal. But it will be a big blow to their smaller relationships."
Minor buyers, honest nobles. If we win the war, we will expose more of their practices, and people will want to make more contracts with Irlam.
"People will die for the ambition of those in power." That phrase that my mind brings to me wipes the smile off my face. It's true, I shouldn't be happy about the war. What's happening will bring bad consequences for both sides.
The lives of the soldiers and the entire town are at stake. It's pointless; that's how the world has always been. There are things I can't change, no matter how much I want to. But if I want to do something, I need more power.
Political power.
"I'm still against the war..." Emilia looks sadly at the people in the restaurant. "I think everyone should mediate situations with words, so fewer people would be affected." What Emilia may not understand is that words are worse than war.
Yes, words can prevent a lot of people from dying directly, but when it comes to destruction, a single word can cause chaos worse than any war. Decisions are made with words; war is just a means to avoid words.
Words are the most destructive weapon of all.
"Someday, when you're a ruler, we can change all this." My words come with weight to her, and weight to Crusch. Emilia smiles, determined to continue.
"Yes!"
Beatrice sits on my lap, looking up at me for a pet.
During this month, we've done nothing but work on developing projectile production, improving cannons, and creating the third version of the steam machine. I haven't had much time to talk, let alone to go out or have fun.
"When this is over, we'll go on a trip." I hug Beatrice, cherishing the moment. I have to win this war, so I must do everything I can for it.
The fate of Irlam hangs by a thread as we prepare to face the impending conflict.
My brave soldiers stand before me, eager to hear my words. War is on the brink of erupting, and I feel my heart pounding in my chest. Despite the fear hidden within me, my face reflects only unwavering determination.
"Soldiers!" I exclaim with a firm voice, directing my gaze to each one of them. In their faces, I can perceive the fear and uncertainty tormenting their thoughts. They all seem to be contemplating what is about to happen.
"I want you to keep the reason for our fight in your hearts," I continue, clenching my fists to show my determination. "We fight to protect. Those soulless beings from Costuul want to destroy everything we have built."
"They want to decimate our town and raze everything to the ground."
My soldiers look at me with eyes full of strength, forging unwavering determination on their faces.
"You are the last line of defense for the innocent. You are the force that guides Irlam," I say, extending my hands solemnly. "You are the army of Irlam, and that's why we must protect what we love."
"AS YOU COMMAND, MY GENERAL!" they shout in unison, sealing their commitment with a resounding cry.
Alsten takes the floor and gives orders decisively.
"Everyone to your positions!" he shouts, marking the beginning of a frenzied organization. The carriages will take each one to their designated place.
The cannons are ready, and the war is less than a day away. Tomorrow, when the sun rises, the conflict will begin.
This is the agreed-upon plan, and now we must ensure that all soldiers are prepared. According to my information, Erick is in the castle closest to the city's exit.
The attack must be swift, a blow that no one expects.
The media outlets are strategically distributed. Emilia will remain at the central base, where she will attend to the wounded. All citizens are under curfew; during the war, they must remain sheltered in their homes.
Any intruder will be treated severely.
The factories have closed their doors and are under protection. At this moment, everything reminds me of the day we fought against the cult. Although it seems distant, the most significant memory of that day remains fresh in my mind. His embrace...
Then, Crusch directs a serious question at me, interrupting my thoughts:
"Are you ready?"
She seems more prepared than anyone else; I suppose she has already gone through situations like these.
"I'll never be ready for something like this, but I have no choice but to face it," I whisper, letting my thoughts slide like shadows in the dim light.
I'm not a man of cold blood; I abhor the idea of killing, and human suffering disgusts me. However, I know that I must fulfill what is entrusted to me, even if my mind suffers in the process.
It's not my first battle after all.
My eyes rest on the shields adorning my sleeves, made of steel, designed to protect me from lethal sword blows. Although their use carries the risk of fracturing an arm, they are our best defense in this ruthless combat.
I'll have to face unknown enemies, whose abilities and strategies are an enigma to me. I couldn't gather information about the person guarding Erick. At this moment, we are in the dark, not knowing what we will face.
"It will be a tough battle," I murmur, turning my gaze to Crusch, who places her hand on my shoulder with an equally grim expression.
"We must prevail, for our goals," Crusch affirms, raising her fist in a determined gesture.
Our fists collide, sealing our commitment as we separate to fulfill our responsibilities.
Luan is ready to assume her role as strategist alongside Alsten on the main battlefield. Everything I know, I have taught her. Alsten will lead the front lines alongside Luan, acting according to Luan's directions.
Her strength surprises me; she is undoubtedly the most powerful person in the army, aside from Crusch and me, of course. Her agility and skill are undeniable.
While holding Beatrice's hand, I watch as the carriages begin to move, transporting our brave soldiers to their designated positions.
I don't fear for my life; after all, I possess this power. Although my heart harbors its own doubts, I know I have the ability to return. The return from death, even if my magic is affected, will allow me to fight once more, without a doubt.
"Marco..." Beatrice looks at me, as if she wants to share something with me. Slowly, she reaches into her pocket and stares at me intently. After a few seconds of silence, she sighs and adds, "It's nothing, I suppose."
Beatrice has a vital task: to protect the balloon from any approaching projectiles. I trust that she can defend herself without any problem, and she can use my mana if necessary.
Now, my mission is clear. I must attempt to capture Erick Costuul or, in the worst-case scenario, eliminate him.