Part 53:
The Miner Bends His Wave Motion Shovel Blast
ALAN, CATRIA, LITHISIA, and the order of knights they had brought with them set up camp in a great grassy field.
“Now, everyone! It is time for us to begin this shovolutionary war and take back our country, shovel!” Lithisia proudly declared in front of the high-ranking knights.
Really? “Shovolutionary”? But none of the knights seemed bothered by her weird wording.
Lithisia gripped her red shovel and began to merrily sing. “Shovolution! Shovolution, shovolution! Hee hee!”
Lancelot simply watched in silence and nodded. Yeah, nothing I say here is going to make a difference.
“Alan, the princess’s illness is getting worse.” Catria shed tears for Elise as she thought of the uncorrupted doppelgänger. She could not afford to let these two princesses meet, no matter what. “She barely uses words that aren’t shovel-related.”
“That seems to be the case,” Alan said.
“Then stop her! You’re the only one who can!”
“I refuse.”
“But why?!”
“This is Lithisia’s war. I’ve decided to let her do as she wishes.”
The worst chill of Catria’s entire life ran down her spine.
If Alan had no intention of stopping Lithisia, things were bound to turn extremely bad. The shovelfication of the world was about to begin.
“And now, Princess Lithisia, allow us to explain the mission plan we’ve devised.”
While Catria combated existential dread, Lancelot began to break down the operation.
Using a map of Rostir, he plotted out their path from the camp to the capital, a journey that would take approximately three days. They would make directly for the city, storm the gates, and take Zeleburg’s head.
A straight shot to the capital. No tricks, no complex strategies. Just a good old-fashioned siege. This would, of course, draw the attention of their enemies, but the knights were prepared.
“I see… You want to dig through the front line. Not a bad plan, Lancelot, shovel.” Lithisia happily nodded.
Catria let out a sigh of relief, but too soon.
“But if I were to grade your plan, I’d only be able to give you a shore (score + shovel) of 60,” said Lithisia.
“You mean 60 points?”
“I mean a shore of 60. A route worthy of a shore of 100 looks like this.”
Ignoring Lancelot’s attempt to interrupt, Lithisia began to embellish upon his simple siege plan. At the starting point, she drew a rectangle, and at the objective, near the capital, she drew a sharp triangle. Once she had made these additions, she wiped the sweat from her brow.
A rectangle, one long line, and a triangle. It was obvious to one and all what they were looking at, especially since Alan currently had in his possession something that looked exactly like it.
“A shovel?!” Catria shouted, unable to hold back.
The rectangle was its handle, the single line was its body, the triangle was its metal head.
“This is the standard route for the Holy Shovel Knights, shovel!” Lithisia declared.
“But, Your Highness, this path would have us walk in something of a circle after beginning our march.” In other words, it was a route that might as well scream, “Please attack us!”
“And as Shovel Knights, it is your job to win regardless, Catria.”
Lithisia was asking the impossible, as usual, and Catria could do naught but hold her head. The princess wouldn’t listen to a word she had to say. Was that really okay? As the captain responsible for the lives of her men, was it really okay for her to accept such an absurd plan? As Catria descended into anxious vapors, Alan spoke up.
“Catria, don’t worry about the route. This is the perfect chance for you.”
“What do you mean…?”
Alan gripped his shovel and nodded down at the map of Rostir. “Haven’t I always told you that the shovel is at its most powerful on the battlefield?”
“Urgh.” Catria recalled with grim clarity their battle against Alice’s undead army. It hadn’t even been a battle, really. More like a one-sided massacre that had made her feel silly for thinking herself a knight. Are we seriously doing this again? Really?
“Catria, it’s about time you teach your men how to go to war with shovel in hand,” said Alan.
“N-no, please! I don’t know anything about that!”
“Don’t worry. I know you can do it,” said Lithisia.
“Don’t look at me with sparkling eyes! I might be able to do it, but I don’t want to!”
Catria resisted with futile tears as Lithisia and the knights watched on with warm smiles.
✦ ✦ ✦
The knights in the tent focused their attention on Alan. In the end, it had been decided that he’d show them what to do. Catria’s role, meanwhile, would be to explain his techniques. The lady knight insisted that this was a job more suited to Lithisia, but Alan refused.
“Do you really think she’d give an explanation that a human could understand?” he asked.
His words rang so true that Catria found herself without a response.
“N-now then, everyone. Please watch Alan very c-carefully. Ahem.” Catria cleared her throat and passed the proverbial baton to the miner.
“Thank you. On any battlefield, the most important thing is information.”
The knights nodded deeply. They were well aware of this fact.
“Know your enemy, know thyself, and you shall not fear a hundred battles.”
“However, the battlefield is currently covered in the fog of war, meaning we will always be working with an incomplete understanding of the situation.”
“That is indeed true,” one of the knights agreed.
“That’s where the shovel comes in.” Alan took his shovel from his back, then placed a large piece of wood on the table in front of him.
“Er…” said one knight.
“Yeah, that sure is a piece of wood from a tree,” said another.
“It’s even got leaves on it,” said a third.
“This is a chunk of wood from a fog tree that I cut down over there,” Alan explained, nodding over his shoulder. “The fog bit is very important, because that links it to the battlefield, where we want to create our change. Now on to the next part—what sort of emotion is often found on a battlefield? Passion.”
“Huh?”
“People are passionate on the battlefield because they fight for a cause.” Alan began to carefully carve the wood. Within a few seconds, the piece of wood had taken on the shape of a doll. More specifically, it was a doll of a naked girl whose clothes had been ripped away by tentacles. She was trying to cover herself up.
Actually, it was just Catria.
“What the?”
Every last anatomical detail was spot-on.
“Ooooooooh!” The knights raised their voices in excitement.
“EEEEEEEEEEK! What are you doing?! Alan, st-stop looking?!”
Once Catria realized the situation, she tried to cover up the wooden doll, but it was too big.
“My apologies. When I thought of the word passion, you were the first person who came to mind.”
Catria’s cheeks burned. That’s what you thought when the tentacles tore at my clothes?! You big dumb jerk! Don’t just say things like that in front of other people!
“Hrm, I can feel the passion from this.”
“Indeed, we have a truly passionate captain.”
The entire group of knights folded their arms as they nodded their heads in stern agreement.
All Catria could do was stare at her hands. She would forevermore live in disgrace.