Chapter 43: The Declaration

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“Sometimes war is the only option when all other methods of diplomacy fail. ”

 

Diplomat Connell, Art of the Deal

Year 699

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--POV: Stella—

--Place: Church Leconaire/ Time: 20:09 (Hours Before Secession)—

*VM* *VM* *VM *VM*

Vibrations in my breast pocket.

A pocket that only has a communication crystal.

“One second, Arnold. I have to do something.”

I talk to the priest who is sitting at a desk, reading a piece of parchment in a happy mood.

“Take your time honey.” He smiles at me, showing his sugary attitude again.

How nauseating.

I’m stuck here with this retarded priest who has no self awareness.

If I told him to kill everybody in this church, he would come to a delusional conclusion that he is doing something righteous by doing it.

Fucking idiot.

Is my thoughts as I walk out of the cathedral and make my way to the cemetery across the street.

“Yes, mistress?”

I activate the communication crystal, a communication crystal given to me by the mistress herself.

So it is obvious who is on the other side of the call.

“Update me on your position.”

Her smooth silk voice permits from the crystal.

“Of course, mistress. The big shots in Leconaire church are all infatuated with me. Another church that is now under my control.”

“They don’t suspect a thing about your true identity?”

“Correct, mistress. They are unaware of my true self thanks to master’s skilled illusion spells. So they fall for my charm magic immediately without resistance.”

“Good. Because you’re going to need those priests to send a declaration to Adion.”

“A declaration?”

--POV: Lilith Von Adion—

--Place: Conference of Countenance/ Time 00:12—

“Heresy! It’s blasphemy! To secede from the central church?!” Macalister with his muscle-head thinking goes in to what can only be described as a “holy rage”.

“Avalon is behind this secession, no doubt.” Augsburg nods. “They know what our response to this will be, yet they did it anyway.”

“Silence.” Father quiets down the racket, with a calm voice that isn’t in any hurry at all.

And it’s obvious why.

Baharuth.

They’re involved.

And if they’re involved, then Avalon is screwed.

Of course this is assuming they don’t have something up their sleeve.

Nah……

No matter what trump card they pull, there is no way it could turn the tide of the battlefield.

Yet why am I worrying if the war is already considered to be won?

Why does this feeling keep nagging me?

“They have committed a blasphemous act against the pope, and against Adion.” Father commands in a heavy tone. “As such, they should be treated with such little respect they deserve from us.”

All the nobles show silence, show acceptance, show support.

For the reality that is about to happen.

“We will declare a war.”

“…..Your majesty” One of the advisors next to the king asks in a whisper, however, in this silent room, everyone heard that whisper. “What shall be our official casus belli?”

“Holy war.” Father spits out in disgust. “Extermination of heresy.”

And thus begins. The war. The holy war.

--POV: Malek Al Rashidun—

--Place: The Northern Military Base, Capitol/ Time: 07:01—

“In a couple of hours, Baharuth is expected to join the war in aid of Adion.” General Khaled says through the communication crystal, in an unusually calm voice. I bet he made just the right plan for this campaign against Baharuth too.

“It seems you haven’t completely lost your touch, Khaled.” He was such a fierce and vital warrior back in the day.

The good days.

“You address me as general, not Khaled.” Excessively formal attitude is the same.

He used to say that same thing in the past.

I remember……

You address me as Team Leader, not Khaled.

It’s almost word for word.

“You still haven’t told me why you re-enlisted into RawPower.” That’s what shocked me the most when I heard that Khaled was returning. The reason why he was returning. “I thought you decided to spend the rest of your elderly days as some receptionist or some shit.”

I tried to convince him to stay with all my might, with all I had.

Yet he left anyway.

And now all of a sudden, he returned?

What is this?

What caused this change of heart?

That’s what’s bothering me.

“So why did you re-enlist?” I ask in a curious voice. “-Gasp- Did you miss me?”

“Fuck off.” This fucker hasn’t changed one bit since his days as an Adventurer. Did all that sitting at the reception desk do nothing? “The customer was that important. I couldn’t let this chance go. A once in a million.”

The customer? Wasn’t it Chamberlayne who hired us?

What did Chamberlayne tell them?

Like he’s going to tell me that shit.

Fucking closeted introvert.

More importantly…… “Who will be leading this regiment, general?” That’s the important bit. I haven’t seen anyone here claim the authority of commander of this division. “Where is he?”

“He should be there in a bit.” He doesn’t seem slightly concerned. It means he definitely knows what’s up with the delay. “His name is Lance Lightbringer, a servant of the Chamberlanye household. He is also the one who personally came to request all these mercs from RawPower.”

A servant?

Must be one special servant to do such a task.

Or maybe the family members of Chamberlayne did not want to communicate with the commoners in RawPower?

Was it beneath them to talk to us?

They had to send a servant?

How utterly arrogant of them.

But it is only expected. It isn’t rare to find arrogance lurking in most nobles. Even if they don’t say it, they probably think that those who weren’t born with noble blood are beneath their level.

Fucking spoiled brats.

“Anyway. My division will start moving through Avalon to execute the strategy, alongside Lady Chamberlayne and her own division.” He pauses for a second. “Good luck out there, comrade.”

“You too, general!”

As the light fades from the communication crystal, I rethink his last words on the call.

Lady Chamberlayne? Commanding an army?

So it seems they view us greatly enough that they will manually command us?

Hmmm…….

“First lieutenant!” A soldier hurriedly opens the curtains of this military tent, before explaining his visit. “Someone is seeking to talk to the highest person in command present.”

“Bring him in.”

The soldier then entered the tent, thus making way to whoever is going to enter behind him.

“Hello there! My name is Lance, and I’d like if you’d call me that.” A tall man in a butler suit, with the darkest hair and bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. “You must be Malek!”

What’s with this cheerful attitude? This butler suit? And most importantly…….

“Yes sir, I am Malek. However……where is your entourage?”

“There is no entourage.”

……What?

If there is no carriage or attendants for the commander of this division……then how did he come to the military base?

“How……did you get here?”

“On foot.”
FROM CHAMBERLAYNE?!

You walked from Chamberlayne to the northern border on foot?!

Lies! Lies! Lies!

However, I can’t upset this person too much. He is essentially a proxy to my employer after all.

“….I…..see…..” I push the anger of the obvious lies down.

“So, is everyone ready? When should we depart?” He puts his hands in his pockets as he looks around this tent.

He is mocking me.

He is mocking us.

Butler suit even though we are going to be on the frontline in a few hours?!

Such a careless attitude even though he is going to be the commander that is supposed to be giving orders?!

Moreover, lying to our faces right now, even though we are supposed to be battling alongside one another in this war?!

Does he not have an inkling of care for us? His troops?

Or does Chamberlayne deem us as “expendable”?

If a servant is this arrogant towards us then what about his masters? The Chamberlaynes?

Do they not acknowledge us as human beings with the same value of life as themselves?

No!

I will not allow my countless comrades of the RawPower company to be slaughtered in battle thanks to the incompetence of this so-called commander.

I must challenge him for his authority.

I must make him realize I am more competent than him.

So I can save my friends who are preparing for a battle that may end their lives.

“Sir……would you mind sparring with me right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, it could be a useful warmup exercise, so I guess we could, yeah.” What kind of idiot did Chamberlayne pick as commander? Do they have no better personnel available?

“Would you like to change your attire to more suitable clothes for sparring?”

“No, thank you.” He shakes his head. “That won’t be needed.”

I see……it won’t be needed?

Does he believe himself to be that good of a warrior? Or is he a mage and he won’t enter close-range combat to be able to get dirt on his clothes?

Whatever.

“Oh, and one more thing.” He turns around and looks back at me. “Make sure not to exhaust yourself and push yourself to the limits. We need you on the battlefield after all.”

The arrogance.

The narcissism.

The pride.

He believes he won.

He overestimates himself.

I won’t lose to such a careless foe.

“Elfonso.” I look towards the soldier who was standing in the tent silently. The same soldier who led Lance Lightbringer to this tent. “It would be welcoming if you brought our troops and comrades to spectate a battle.”

“Other troops to spectate?” Lance looks back towards me just as he was exiting the tent.

“Yes, to boost morale and awaken the fighting spirit.” Why is he asking this? Is he not confident in battling me? Is he afraid others will see the shameful spectacle? “Is that alright sir?”

“Why, of course.” He looks back towards the exit of the tent, as he keeps walking towards the exit. Just as he was leaving, I heard a whisper. A whisper only I heard come from Lance’s lips. “An audience is always appreciated.”