The crimson of flames is the color of passion.
Through me, He lights the world on fire,
And His brilliance shines.
✦ ✦ ✦
My, what a good decision it was to climb that watchtower.
Here they come, gushing forth from the forest like the disgusting monsters, their formations wriggling like fish in a primal, chaotic school. The morning sun at their backs, enveloping them in shadow, casts a truly sinister aura about them. It is as if they exude evil itself.
Elves. White creatures that revere a monstrous lizard as their God. Storms signal their arrival. They lurk in the great forest that covers the eastern part of the continent, raising all manner of monsters that feed upon humans. Truly, our mortal enemies. Their blue and white banners dance in the distance. About 600 leaves, by my count. On the ground, about 300 silver leopard familiars follow along. Up above, about 50 sky falcons circle. I expect there are lizards and frogs among their ranks, as well.
“There are so many.” Lord Willow’s comment is frank and precise.
“Yes, I’d say they outnumber us about five to one. One could not wish for a more solid army. I even spot two generals riding tigers. This is not a force meant for fighting monsters, let alone humans.”
“Then they’re preparing for a battle against vampires? Ain’t never seen anything like this...” Odysson’s reaction is exactly that of a commoner. He does not shiver in fear, only stands dumbstruck. But one cannot expect more.
“One ‘leaf’ of elves is equal to a human platoon, and they have 600. Some basic calculations would estimate this is like moving the entire human army against one division.”
“What the hell? Ain’t that bad?”
“One of the generals is an Apostle. I have seen them on the diplomatic seat.” An Apostle. It can’t be. No, Lord Willow may be young, but he comes from a storied military family. He wouldn’t mistake an enemy general so easily.
The tiger-riders are a male and a female. The male appears to be in charge, but judging from the way the familiars gather, the female must be the Apostle. Even from this distance, the splendor of their outfits is obvious. I see, I see.
“You gotta be kidding me. That runt took out a fort on her own?”
“The famed Seabed is a tall male. He’s nothing like that.”
“I don’t know their accolades, but I am certain they are one Blade of the elven Apostles, the Trileaves. My, how grand.”
The greatest fortune is always followed by the greatest misfortune. Perhaps the events of last night altered our fate heavily—or was something else at work? Either way, it’s clear that things have taken a dramatic turn. And things aren’t going to be getting better any time soon.
“I’m dispersing the soldiers. There’s no point in attempting a display of power.”
“Indeed. Let us instead show how weak we are. I shall leave negotiations to you.”
“Should we not send out an alert?”
“There are eyes in the sky. Word would not reach anyone until night, anyway.”
“No need to panic, I suppose. If it comes to it, we can always bring Lady Kuroi into the fort.”
“If worst comes to worst, you mean.”
“Worst, huh? I think we are far past that.”
“Truly, truly. The worst is a bitter drink we are used to drinking, just as we are accustomed to sleeping on hard bedding.”
“Keh! This is ridiculous. Just you watch, you cursed long-ears. I’ll burn you all to a crisp!” Well, I must focus on descending this perilous ladder. Lord Willow is leading the troops, while Odysson evacuates the commoners. As for me, I excitedly make for the east gate where the elves are gathering. I lick my lips and smile, rocking my head comically.
Oh! No wonder it seemed so bright this way. There she is, our Lady Kuroi, standing by our crimson banner, resiliently flying atop the crumbled town hall. Black streams of her hair entwine with the sea of crimson, a symbol of our protection. Upon her back, a great presence rides. Behold, people! God is above us! We are on the verge of the first strike in the great war that will engulf this land, the human revolution. And I shall humbly sing of its gravity, its majesty!
“Why, what have we here? Rulers of this shining world and mediators of nature, lords of creation, scholar of magic’s secrets, holders of ears as beautiful as pure white orchids! It is our honor to welcome you from the verdant east as guests in our desolate lands.” Heh, that stopped them. Even the falcons have paused. Excellent.
I ripped that excessive welcome from an official document, however. It’s proof that here there are people who know of diplomacy. To put it even more simply, it’s a warning to these creatures that if they let their guard down just because this is the Frontier, there will be problems later. Can’t ignore that, can you? If things get big enough, I expect the vampires to the west... Heh heh heh... Even that fearsome, monstrous lizard of yours will hear of this. You wouldn’t want that, would you? After all, you swore not to invade human lands unprovoked.
“Your welcome is accepted.” The male tiger-rider approaches. He’s dressed in a blue and gray battle outfit and equipped with a long, white bamboo flask and a short staff of ancient wood. No quiver. I assume he is a close-quarters water mage. His appearance is that of a middle-aged human, expressionless yet powerful. The picture of a self-made man.
“State your name.”
“I am Felipo, head priest of the frontier.”
“I am Second Commander Arcsem.”
“It is my honor to make your acquaintance.” I lower my head respectfully to hide my glee. An opening already. The elves send an Apostle, yet her second-in-command is a mid-level officer. What an unfavorable comparison. Such an odd composition. And yet, 600 leaves is about right for a mid-level officer. That is, if the mid-level officer in question was in charge.
So, were they not able to amass a large enough force? If so, that would be a weakness to exploit. Or were all of their high-ranking officers busy? That is also something we can exploit. Perhaps, even, the Apostle was an unexpected addition? Urgency and forcefulness can be exploited, too. Whatever the case—it could even be multiple things—their already chaotic chain of command is on the razor’s edge. How wonderful!
“The Ewlogond Republic’s Council had decreed that our army be dispatched. Prepare a place for us.” Hah! Trying to force your way through with authority, huh? What an elven decision. The word Ewlogond is supposed to have a ring of ‘absolute justice’ or something... What a farce.
“I’m afraid I must decline.” The middle-aged second-in-command’s eyebrow twitches.
“What?”
“I said, I’m afraid I must decline.”
“Explain yourself.”
“We have just suffered an attack by monsters, my good sir. Great fortune allowed us to repel them, but as you can see, our fences are toppled, homes are destroyed, and we must live covered in dust and rubble. There are still bodies for us to find, and the footsteps of monsters lurking about for a meal still echo. There is just no way for us to accommodate your arrival...” Let’s see just how much the heron and lizard were able to scout yesterday. I mustn’t instigate anything until I know for sure.
“Prepare a place for us. And bring out the leader of this land.” He insists, huh? I see. So they know quite a bit. At least, it’s certain they know there’s no fighting left and that we are rebuilding our forces. They just need permission to invade our walls.
“Oh, what misfortune! It truly pains me, but I cannot do what you ask of me. To insist is...” This is a good chance to confirm their numbers. 600 leaves, was it? I wretchedly wring my hands. Oh-hoh! Not everyone has the same number of arrows. They must have exhausted them somewhere. Each platoon and squad has shared amongst each other.
“Oh, the monster attack was massive, not to mention savage and brutal!” In other words, they’ve already been in a battle—a limited and low-risk battle where only some soldiers had to fire their arrows.
“Desperate battle after desperate battle have left us with many dead soldiers and civilians. Our leader, the Frontier Army Captain, was also gravely wounded in a battle with a troll—” For example, a battle where a few soldiers were instructed to smoke out some monsters. Then, once they had rounded up the incited swarm, perhaps someone had cast the spell Madness. This caused the monsters to go berserk, leaving the forest to stumble right onto human land. Let’s call it a monster tidal wave—the normal chaos of a monster attack is amplified on a massive scale. But this is all within expectations. It’s more a matter of how much proof I can get.
“After a long night of attempting to patch him up, he passed away before dawn. It is truly regrettable.”
“Lies. Is that not the captain over there?”
“Oh! That is the acting Frontier Army Captain.” Ah-hah. So their scouting started the day after the attack. It also only extends to the outside of buildings. “He is normally our Minister of War, so as you can see he takes well to directing our remaining soldiers. He would of course come to greet you, but in this state of emergency he deemed it better to prevent any monster rats from scuttling underfoot and causing you any distress.” Hmm. So he knows the effects of the monster tidal wave, but it would seem this was not a meticulously thought-out plan. It was, ultimately, only the action of a mid-ranking officer.
“Hey, Arcsem!” Oh? What have we here? A younger voice? “How much longer? I’m sleepy. Can you get this over with already?”
“Your Grace, I am a little busy.”
“Aww!” Your Grace. The elven system of government is not based on lineage, so this is a title that can only refer to an Apostle. Her appearance, like her voice, is that of a young girl’s. Her outfit is extravagant, with lots of flowing cloth. In her hand she holds a folding fan, but no weapons to speak of. I assume she is a wind mage. So this is one who has been given a special blessing from a Guardian God... An elven Apostle.
“The beasts hunger as well. Hurry it up.”
“...Priest, enough with the formalities. Bring us food.” Hah! So it’s a short-term plan and your supply trains are unreliable, eh? I see, I see. I swear, I will use every last ounce of silver in my tongue to wrest as much information as possible from them. Everything has been as I suspected—from the execution of the monster tidal wave that went as planned, to the unplanned situation they find themselves in now.
“Right away.” What fortune! There are so many openings for me to take advantage of. I have to work very hard to keep myself from skipping with joy.