🌹💘🌹
AROUND the time Monica fell into a deep sleep, the Flame Corps entered a new phase of their duties.
“Sir! The enemy forces are moving from our 12 o’ clock position!”
Richard’s flame-colored gaze sharpened as he stared off into the distance. Far, far beyond the newly transformed field of flowers in the former Nowasilo district, he spotted a military formation. Based on what he could see, the enemy’s host numbered one hundred, give or take. Their scout estimated two-thirds were holy knights while the remaining were knights of the royal guard. It seemed they had waited for the Flame Corps to draw closer until they were in a position to be ambushed directly from the side. But evidently, they had grown tired of waiting and were on the move.
Richard narrowed his eyes on the enemy. “If they hadn’t moved, I’d have let them pass as a sign of good faith, but clearly, their general had other intentions in mind from the start.”
Pretending to retreat, the Flame Corps was in fact already in position to counterattack. The large wagons they had brought with them were intended to hide their formation in an unobstructed location. And the folks pretending to be commoners providing combat service support were actually knights of Kophe who had descended upon Richard, pledging allegiance to him. They were positioned as decoys in a visible location. Wearing farmers’ clothes, they acted relaxed, laughing and chatting as they ate the army rations they’d brought along with them. A binding spell had been cast on all of them, so betrayal wouldn’t be coming from that quarter.
If their loyalty to the enemy was powerful enough, there might be some willing to cast aside the constraint and essentially commit suicide in an attempt to collude. But their opponent was that thrice-damned crown prince of Kophe. And morale on Richard’s side was incredibly high, especially after the miracle Monica had shown them.
He checked their configuration as he walked and dropped his voice to speak to his troops. “Wait until the enemy makes its move. The second they launch an arrow or magic at us—you’re free to fire at will.”
Then he ordered the line of carriages to proceed at a leisurely pace. They plodded along, practically inviting their opponents to attack. And when the first arrow flew at them, the vehicles ground to a halt and Richard shouted.
“To those who shoot arrows at our army that has come to provide humanitarian aid to Kophe! Know that you attack your own people too! To assail us with arrows after we’ve been wounded by monsters is the height of foolishness! So to protect the citizens of Kophe and my own subordinates, as well as this country’s treasured holy women, I will repel you! Mark my words!” Then he brandished his sword wide and held it high. “Charge!”
“With my power, I grant these strong, noble warriors divine protection and a shield against all enemies.”
The saints chanted their blessings all at once, and the first unit raced forward, running faster than horses. When their dramatic rush attracted the attention of the enemy’s forces, Richard raised his left arm and moved it broadly, giving the signal. In response, a few mage soldiers launched tremendous blasts of magic from the only hill in the vicinity—the village of Nowasilo’s cemetery. The hail of magic struck the enemy from the side, distracted as they were by the knights’ fierce attack.
Krakl, krakl, krakl, krakl!
The sound of swords clashing overlapped with the glow of magic exploding like fireworks. Richard smiled coldly, the light from the magic reflecting in his eyes.
“Clearly, they thought they could defeat us while we were exhausted from hunting monsters… But the experience of those complacent from peaceful lives is very different from ours!”
The imperial Flame Corps weren’t the only ones fighting spiritedly. The knights of Kophe did the same alongside them.
“Listen up! Our job is to support the imperial army protecting us!”
“Bastards fired those arrows at us even knowing we were here!”
It was only a matter of time before the battle ended. In their favor. Richard was disappointed to see the enemy forces retreating more quickly than he had imagined. Took the wind right out of his sails.
“With this…we have proof that the Kingdom of Kophe attacked us.”
It was the first time in a long time that he had a justified reason for engaging an enemy without the need to hold back.
“Darius. Is Miss Monica’s carriage safe?” he asked.
“Yes. Nothing got close to it. Neither the enemy’s arrows nor magic nor the citizens of Kophe who are our allies.”
Richard nodded and turned around to look at the coach furnished with Monica’s bed.
“…Miss Monica?”
At that moment, he saw Monica gazing out from the carriage window. She wore only the white chemise used as an undergarment and her hair was unbound too. Even from this distance, he could see the peachy glint of her hair and eyes. Her lips moved.
Stop— or so he thought she said.
“We’re about to witness the saint’s power going on another rampage! Everyone, at the ready!”
The instant after Richard shouted the order—
Rrrrrrmmmmmmbbbbbbllllll!
Thick trunks of ivy sprouted from the ground and swallowed the enemy knights.
“Wh-What the hell?!”
It lasted less than the blink of an eye. Richard’s knights stood there dumbfounded as tentacles of ivy caught Kophe’s holy knights and royal guard one after another, wrapping around them and stopping their movements. The vines crushed their armor and swords. With no protection on their bodies, their screams and shouts echoed everywhere.
Richard ran toward Monica’s carriage. Inside, he found her limp from fatigue and Solarus at her side, supporting her. The light was steadily fading from her hair.
Solarus looked up at him.
“She…she suddenly got up out of her bed and…when she looked out the window she started muttering ‘Stop’ incoherently… I think she was speaking the ancient continental language. I believe she cast the magic unconsciously.”
He looked closely at Monica and saw her hands and feet bound in Solarus’s ropes. She must have done so to prevent his saint from flying out of the carriage. He picked her up and laid her down on the bed, calling her name.
“Miss Monica, Miss Monica.”
“Ri…chard?” She smiled dreamily at him, like she was in a haze. Her smile was so unsuited for a battlefield that he felt it shoot through his heart like an arrow. “Richard… Did I help…? I smelled- blood, so I… Did it end this time…without death…?”
“…Miss Monica.”
Her smile looked much younger and more innocent than usual. Unable to bear it, he clasped her tightly to his chest. Her body felt feverish cocooned so snugly in his arms. As she drifted into unconsciousness, the light in her hair and eyes calmed, along with the ivy running amok outside the carriage.
Simultaneously, Richard and Solarus breathed deep sighs of relief.
“Solarus…look after her.”
“Understood.”
Teeth clenched, Richard let go of Monica and exited the coach, leaving her in Solarus’s care.
He couldn’t forget her smile even during the cleanup and aftermath. The enemy forces dragged in front of him were in an awful state, their armor and clothes shredded to pieces by the vines. Their commanding officer was a priest from the Church. His scout’s report about the enemy’s composition ended up being right on the mark—two-thirds were holy knights and one-third were knights of the royal guard.
Whether from fear of the battle against him and his forces or terror of the ivy, they trembled violently and obeyed meekly.
On the return journey, Darius sat with him in his carriage and asked him about the prisoners of war.
“What shall we do about them, Your Highness?”
“Well, Miss Monica said she doesn’t want to see blood, so there’s our answer, eh?”
Meaning if she hadn’t said anything, Richard would have condemned them to execution. Darius smiled ruefully in response.
“Right then, we’ll treat them very politely as our captives. Besides, casting the binding spell on them is as good as capital punishment anyway.”