I charged down the hill with single-minded intent, not bothering to look back. If the militia hadn’t followed, then the enemy would no doubt swallow up myself and the imperial guard with ease.
But I believed in my people. They had been the same citizens who, years ago, had cheered for a powerless child with hope in their hearts. I believed that as long as I strove to be a good emperor, they would never abandon me. Besides, I had seen the way they’d gripped their weapons when I’d shouted my rallying cry.
Balthazar and Count Palatine Vodedt were at my sides, and I knew the imperial guard were right behind us. We charged down the hillside and plunged straight toward the heart of the enemy lines. Once we collided, the killing would be all that remained. Life against life in a struggle for survival.
“Your Majesty!” I could hear Balthazar’s voice from slightly behind me. “Please, Your Majesty—slow down!”
I ignored his plea, focused solely on the charge. “Keep up, Bally!” The Raul soldiers were bloodied and beaten. They’d already expended everything they had. “Forward!” I screamed. “Charge! Scatter them to the winds!”
Balthazar’s lance was unerring in its accuracy, clearing the path before him of enemies. Count Palatine Vodedt’s saber moved faster than the eye could follow, stabbing, slicing, killing.
As for myself, I focused everything I had into my barrier magic. My back straight, I kept my standard flying high as I spread my defenses seamlessly over my body like a second skin, trying to make it look as if I’d done nothing at all. I even dropped the antipoison spell I kept constantly active within my body. It meant that I would have to rememorize every single poison from scratch, but I had to prepare for the possibility that I would need to spare a healing spell or two for myself. Small sacrifices had to be made in the face of more pressing issues.
The caveat was that my healing magic wasn’t instantaneous. My barrier was my only defense against any immediate killing blows, so I concentrated its strength around my vitals, such as my head, neck, and heart.
“Get in front of His Majesty! Hurry!”
With Balthazar’s desperate commands and the militia’s war cries at my back, I set my eyes on the self-proclaimed Duke Raul’s standard and continued my charge. “Death will not come for us!” I shouted. “No blade nor spell shall land upon our body!”
Don’t get me wrong; I was as eager to avoid dying as the next person. That was why I was digging into my internal mana reserves to cover myself in barriers. But I knew that they wouldn’t be able to stop a bullet at this range—at least not fully—and even an unlucky arrow could spell my doom. Still, it was far better than nothing, so I allowed the drain on my mana to continue.
My fear of death, the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of mana leaving my body—it all mixed together in a chaotic mess as I urged my mount yet forward, screaming out the remaining breath in my lungs. But just as I was about to reach the self-proclaimed duke’s standard, it fell.
Was he dead? No, I couldn’t be sure yet. Perhaps he was only hiding. I couldn’t relax until I’d seen his corpse with my own eyes. Just a little further.
“Don’t let him escape!” I screamed, over and over. No matter what, I would kill him here and now. “Find him! Find the false duke!”
✦ ✦ ✦
＊＊＊
We spent the next indeterminable amount of time lost in our search. Even as I maintained my defenses and bellowed orders, I felt outside of myself, like it was all a dream. By the time the reverie broke, the Raul forces had completely broken—every soldier that still remained had made clear their surrender.
“Please lower your standard, Your Majesty. It’s over.”
It was Timona speaking to me. He hadn’t been part of the charge. When had he joined us?
“Where’s Duke Raul?!” I cast my eyes about. “Is he alive?! Dead?!”
We had searched the corpse-strewn battlefield like ravenous zombies. The Count Palatine seemed fine, but Timona and Balthazar were clearly exhausted. Pushing them any further would risk their collapse. Even so, I remained. I needed to know if I’d felled the so-called duke.
Word had yet to arrive of him giving an official surrender, so he had either perished in battle or fled. The possibility of the latter was why I’d immediately ordered my lords’ forces—when they’d joined us—to pursue the routing Raul army. If the false duke had gotten away, this battle would be a strategic loss for us, even though it had been a tactical victory.
That was when I heard a familiar voice—albeit one I hadn’t heard in some time. “Your Majesty! Over here!”
When I turned to look, I saw the other transmigrator I’d once encountered: the man who’d worn a butler’s garb. Approaching, I saw that he stood by the remains of something that might have once been a corpse, before countless feet and hooves had reduced it to its current state.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I believe it is the false duke. The cloak matches.”
There wasn’t enough shape to the once-corpse to make a judgment either way. It looked like it had taken a direct hit from a flock cannon, and that was before a crowd of people and horses had trampled over it. As I studied it, Count Palatine Vodedt began sorting through the remains, separating it from the rest of the debris.
“It might have been a body double,” Balthazar reasoned. “In this state, there’s no way to tell.”
He was completely correct. There was every possibility that it was the self-proclaimed Duke Raul, but neither could we rule out the possibility it had been a stand-in.
However, as I was wondering what to do about this, Count Palatine Vodedt retrieved some kind of leaf from his inner chest pocket and placed it in his mouth. He stuck a finger into the once-corpse and, after a brief pause, popped the gore-smeared digit into his mouth.
I heard the sound of someone nearby throwing up, and I hardly blamed them. To someone who didn’t know better, the Count Palatine actions must have seemed like those of a depraved madman. But I did know better. He wasn’t the kind of man who acted without reason. For him to do such a thing could only mean that it had been necessary.
Most revealing of all, though—I hadn’t missed his moment of hesitation. Even he considered this to be disgusting, on a physical level.
The Count Palatine remained still for some time, eyes closed as though he were praying. Finally, he opened them and spat out the contents of his mouth. “Water,” he said.
I took a canteen from a nearby soldier and gave it to him. As he rinsed and gargled, I noticed that his brow—completely dry throughout the earlier fighting and searching—was now beaded with sweat.
“Have you learned something?” I asked.
“It’s the false duke.” His voice was hoarse, but firm. “Of that, there is no doubt.”
“Is it? That is good news.”
All of a sudden, I had a much better idea of how his bloodline had held the position of the emperor’s spymaster for so long. Was this power of his why he knew that the Chancellor and Minister of Ceremony had been behind the assassinations of my predecessor and the crown prince? No, that still left too many—
I caught myself mid-thought. This wasn’t the time for that. I’d believe in his judgment for now. Given the state of the remains, it was clear that the self-proclaimed duke had been killed by cannon fire from the hill. Thus, he likely hadn’t had the time to prepare a double, much less anticipate his death.
I let out a long, deep breath as I finally allowed relief to wash over me. When I breathed in, the air was thick enough with the smell of blood that I almost choked.
The confirmed death of the self-proclaimed Duke Raul would grant us the greatest prize of all: an easy pacification of the Empire’s eastern territories. It was a pity that we hadn’t been able to secure his head; in this time period, displaying it would have been the most effective method to spread the news. That was impossible now, though—there was no way to tell where it even was amid all the death that surrounded us.
Our soldiers’ spirits were high, uplifted by pride in our victory. I desperately fought down the urge to throw up as I faced them with a smile.
“Men! Shout our victory to the skies! The day is ours!”