Chapter 70 - Finally Adapted to the World (3)

A new beginning—it certainly sounded nice in theory.

But even that was only possible when the North was still intact.

If they did not deal with the Orcs running amok all over the place as if it were their own home, the entire territory would be reduced to a wasteland before they could even try anything.

Whether they boiled or roasted the North, driving out the Orcs was the top priority.

Fortunately, the First Prince also had a countermeasure for that.

"We will not fight the Orcs."

However, the problem was that his method was too different from what the lords had expected.

The lords murmured amongst themselves.

Just a moment ago, he had declared he would not abandon the North, yet now he was saying he would not fight. The lords could not understand the First Prince's words at all, wondering how on earth he planned to drive out the Orcs without fighting.

"The Orcs do not operate a separate logistics system. Their method of procuring food is extremely simple. They defeat their enemies in battle and fill their bellies with their blood and flesh. That is their way."

The First Prince continued his explanation in a calm tone.

"In other words, if there are no battles, they will have no choice but to starve."

The quick-witted ones let out groans. Among them was Baron Cardane, who was known to have a certain level of expertise in military strategy.

"Are you perhaps keeping the principles of the green fields in mind?"

At the Baron's question, the First Prince nodded. The Baron nodded in realization, murmuring, "As expected."

Count Shurtl, who could not follow the conversation, hesitated before asking.

"This subject is foolish and cannot fathom Your Highness's intentions. What do you mean by not fighting, and what are these green fields...?"

"It seems His Highness intends to starve the Orcs to death without fighting."

Baron Cardane explained on behalf of the First Prince.

A scorched-earth tactic (演野戰術).

An extreme tactic that completely blocked the enemy's possibility of procuring lacking supplies locally by destroying or siphoning off useful materials in advance.

"It is a method rarely used under normal circumstances. Because it is difficult to execute, and even if it succeeds, the aftermath is severe."

Siphon off as many supplies as possible to the rear, but if that isn't feasible, destroy them on the spot. Most of the supplies destroyed in this way were food, which included unharvested crops.

Whether it succeeded or failed, it was bound to be followed by the resentment of the people and starvation after the war ended.

Baron Cardane pointed this out and expressed his concern.

"Orcs are terribly picky eaters."

The First Prince continued without hesitation.

With the exception of a special few, monsters did not eat a vegetarian diet. Their only means of filling their bellies were hunting and pillaging, and the only food that graced their tables was meat dripping with blood.

To them, the grain piled up in storehouses was of no interest.

There was no need to rack their brains trying to siphon off painstakingly stockpiled supplies, nor did they have to feel sick to their stomachs about burning their precious provisions.

Of course, that did not mean it was truly inconsequential.

Because the disgrace of surrendering the castles and territories they had protected for generations without a fight could not be avoided.

However, not a single one of the lords voiced that fact aloud.

The ground was still pooled with the blood of the nobles executed by the First Prince. They could not even imagine daring to object.

Furthermore, there were people in this tent from Winter Castle, who had handed over the castle they had protected for generations to the Orcs. Revealing their true feelings in front of them would be the act of a complete idiot.

Not to mention that they themselves bore some degree of responsibility for that castle's fall.

The lords realized their situation anew.

They were in a situation where they not only had sins to bear but also needed help. Insubordination was utterly unthinkable.

They could only lie flat on their faces and wait for this harsh season to quickly pass.

Even amidst the silence of the lords, the meeting was actively progressing.

"But the Orcs are not so soft as to obediently retreat just because they starve a little."

Vincent Ballorhard raised an objection.

He argued that while a scorched-earth tactic could weaken the Orcs' combat power, it could not be a fundamental solution. The Orcs would stubbornly hold out, even if they had to fill their bellies with the blood and flesh of their own kin.

The commanders of Winter Castle spoke in unison.

"Ultimately, whether sooner or later, a battle cannot be avoided."

At Vincent's words, the First Prince nodded.

"That's right. Ultimately, in order to drive the Orcs out, we have no choice but to fight."

Just a moment ago, he had said they wouldn't fight. It was a truly unpredictable attitude.

"But not only is that not an immediate matter."

The First Prince added a comment.

"It is not our matter either."

"Could it be..."

"The ones who will wage a decisive battle against the Orcs are not us, but the forces south of the river."

Only then did the commanders, having grasped the First Prince's intentions, let out groans.

"They need to experience a real winter for once."

The First Prince said, staring straight at the lords.

"So that they will never forget its harshness again."

Having committed sins, they had no mouths to make excuses even when rebuked. As if by prior agreement, the lords lowered their heads.

This time, the First Prince's gaze turned to the men of Ballorhard.

"Just how foolish of an act they committed, and how great a thing they lost because of it."

The First Prince stated time and again that he would make sure they realized it.

A myriad of emotions crossed the faces of the tough men who had abandoned Winter Castle and left.

Grief and shame, relief and anticipation.

Looking at their complicated expressions, Maximilian was thoroughly impressed.

Because it was a truly rare sight to behold.

A young boy who hadn't even reached adulthood yet, and a prince who had just woken up after being unconscious all this time, was unilaterally leading the meeting. And he wasn't just leading it; he had them completely in the palm of his hand.

At a single word from him, the arrogant lords trembled in fear, and at a single word, the gazes of the knights, which had been clouded with anger, were purified.

"We will need troops to act as bait."

These men, who had been no different from a defeated army, strengthened their resolve and burned with fighting spirit.

"I will act as bait."

"No, I will do it."

The lingering traces of their bitter defeat and disgraceful flight were no longer visible.

Even the absence of the great tree that had supported the North, Count Vale Ballorhard, could not be felt. They looked as vigorous as if they had returned to the time before Winter Castle fell.

It was a sight that was unbelievable even while seeing it with his own eyes.

To think that a boy who was only sixteen years old could perfectly fill the void left by an old knight who had acted as the guardian deity of the kingdom for over half a century.

Who could have possibly imagined it?

If the nobles of the capital saw this current scene, what would they think?

It was not difficult to find the answer.

Right before his eyes were the northern lords, completely overwhelmed by the prince whom they had been looking down on with eyes of contempt just a short while ago.

The lords following the prince with gazes full of fear and expectation—the nobles of the capital would likely be exactly like them.

CLAP.

At the sound of clapping hands, Maximilian snapped out of his thoughts with a start.

"We will end the meeting here."

Before he knew it, the meeting had come to an end.

Maximilian couldn't help but feel drained.

They had held meetings day after day without any results. While they vacillated, unable to even decide whether to advance or retreat, the rift between the command staff of Winter Castle and the lords had only deepened.

It had felt like groaning while clutching a stubborn knot.

When, in truth, it was a knot that could be unraveled so simply.

Maximilian let out a long breath.

It finally felt as though everything had returned to normal.

* * *

In the tent after the northern lords had left, the only ones remaining were Vincent, Maximilian, and a few knights.

All sorts of emotions surfaced on the faces of these men, whose expressions had been stiffly frozen throughout the meeting.

"Your Highness."

They called out to the First Prince several times. It seemed they had much to say but could not easily open their mouths, their lips merely parting and closing.

"If you called me, speak."

The First Prince said nonchalantly.

Though signs of exhaustion were evident, his expression and tone were no different from usual.

However, the men, including Vincent, knew.

They were not unaware of the fact that the First Prince's eyes, which usually stared straight at a person to the point of making them uncomfortable, could not find a place to rest.

"We shouldn't have time to just stand around here like this."

The First Prince laid down a warning.

Nowhere in his voice or expression was there the cold rationality that had cut down over a dozen lords with a single stroke.

The leader who had overwhelmed dozens of men throughout the meeting no longer existed in that place.

All that remained was a frightened child, anxious that his faults might be discovered.

"Your Highness."

Vincent called out to the First Prince again.

"How many men of House Ballorhard do you honestly think have met their end in a bed?"

As soon as the word 'end' was brought up, the First Prince began to fluster.

"I should rest. My body hasn't recovered y—"

"At most, it doesn't exceed five."

Vincent said, taking a step forward.

"For a man of House Ballorhard to end his life on the battlefield is not that strange of an occurrence. Rather, it is an honorable thing."

The First Prince abruptly stood up from his seat.

"He did not die fighting some trivial Orc, but fell in battle against the King of Orcs. He burned away his own sword to ensure that monster could not pursue our allies."

As he quickly lost his balance and stumbled, Adelia hurriedly supported him.

"My father's final moments were not so worthless as to warrant Your Highness's pity."

Vincent said emphatically.

"Do not insult his righteousness."

The First Prince did not answer. Vincent also spoke no further.

Bowing his head, Vincent turned around. The other knights also followed behind him without a word.

"I am glad you have awakened safely."

Even at the brief parting greeting left before departing the tent, the First Prince remained silent. Adelia looked at him with pity.

* * *

Overnight, a large number of troops departed from the encampment.

The northern lords, including Count Shurtl, led their forces out of the camp, and hundreds of cavalrymen scattered in all directions, taking on the duties of messengers. Their destinations varied, but their mission was all the same.

In accordance with the First Prince's orders, as soon as they arrived at their destinations, they evacuated the citizens. Since ominous rumors had spread that the Orcs were turning the entire region into a wasteland, persuading the citizens was not difficult.

The citizens packed only their minimum valuables and headed south.

The forces of the northern lords accompanied them.

Some unlucky ones were attacked by the Orcs. However, not many encountered the Orcs in such a way.

It was thanks to the survivors of Winter Castle roaming all over the place, luring the Orcs away.

The southward-bound troops and citizens split off at a certain point.

The soldiers set their direction toward a fortress located further east, while the citizens continued heading south to cross the bridge that spanned the Laintes River.

The Second Prince, Maximilian, led them.

It was an arrangement made by the First Prince out of concern that the kingdom's forces, who had established a defensive line south of the Laintes River, might drive the northern refugees away.

Maximilian fretted anxiously, worried about what to do if they were attacked by Orcs along the way.

However, perhaps because those left behind were doing their jobs well, the feared attack never occurred.

And finally, Maximilian and the refugees were able to reach the Laintes Bridge, which connected the North and the Central region.

Maximilian felt relieved.

Beyond the bridge, the kingdom's forces could be seen.

Countless flags, each engraved with the symbol of a different noble house, fluttered across the river. Even at a glance, it was a massive army that easily appeared to exceed ten thousand.

A portion of them rushed out of the encampment and crossed the river.

"Halt!"

Seeing the soldiers block the bridge and shout, Maximilian threw back the hood of his fur cloak.

"These are citizens who have taken to the refugee road to escape the disaster in the North. Open the way."

"Y-Your Highness?"

The commander who recognized him widened his eyes.

After that, everything proceeded smoothly.

The commander of the defensive line, though he expressed reluctance at the suddenly swarming refugees, did not turn them away.

Whether that was because of the prince's presence or if the kingdom's policy was such, Maximilian had no way of knowing.

The only thing he could know for sure was the fact that the Central region was abundant in everything.

Troops, food, weapons—there was an overflowing abundance of them all.

He even felt a sense of dissonance at that sheer wealth.

Over on the other side, everything was lacking and everything was impoverished. It felt as if he had stepped into another world.

"His Highness the Second Prince has saved the people of the North!"

His face burned at the praises of the nobles and soldiers who knew nothing of the situation.

Normally, he would have stepped forward to explain the circumstances and put a stop to the undeserved praise and cheers. However, not this time.

Now was a time when he had to borrow even a false reputation.

A modest gathering organized to celebrate the safe return of the Second Prince, who had left for the northern frontier. An atmosphere that had heated up entirely unsuited for the current times.

"A massive army of Orcs is currently rushing toward this place."

Maximilian poured cold water over it.

"Why would the Orcs, who should be busy stirring up the North right about now..."

Watching the noble babble such carefree words as if watching a fire across the river, he opened his mouth again.

"The Orcs will arrive here in one week at the earliest, or two weeks at the latest."

The sweet music being played by the musicians abruptly cut off. The smiles faded from the lips of the nobles holding their glasses in a toast.

"The party is over."

Maximilian said. His voice was dry and cold, resembling the biting winter wind that clawed across the snowfields.