Having successfully dumped the majority of the planning part of the scenario on Vesta, I went out, ostensibly to procure the essential food and supplies we’d need to survive an unexpected siege. It was around 3 p.m. by the time I returned to our supposed stronghold, by which point Vesta had finished the preliminary analysis we’d need to finalize our reinforcement strategy. The list he’d compiled was extensive, noting the likelihood of and potential countermeasures against all kinds of enemy attacks, both human and monster in origin. Extensive didn’t do it justice, actually. The risks he’d come up with didn’t stop at the obvious ones; no, they included every single thing that could possibly occur, even if the chance of said tragedy occurring was virtually zero. It took an impressive amount of negative thinking to be able to come up with a list like the one he handed me.
“I tried grouping the risks into similar categories and wrote them out as a ‘tree’ like you asked...” Vesta said, clearly unconfident.
Wielding my authority as leader to the fullest, I’d instructed Vesta in the basics of what I’d known as a fault tree analysis (or, more simply, an FTA) in my previous life before leaving him to it. Back then, it was more commonly used to identify the possible causes of a (ideally hypothetical) catastrophic system failure, like a nuclear meltdown or a rocket explosion, but it could be handily applied to most situations with a little tinkering. For instance, failing the scenario would equate to “system failure” in our case.
“Great stuff, Vesta. I didn’t really expect this much detail.”
Vesta sniffed, adjusting his glasses. “Well, it’s not entirely comprehensive, of course—I could use up all seventy-two hours of our preparation time and still not cover every risk—but you ordered me to write down as much as I could, so I did. I suppose the next step is to prioritize the risks and decide on a feasible strategy?”
“Pretty much. Let’s see... We’ll set aside any of the monster-based risks for now. Preparing to defend against human forces will cover a lot of the same stuff we’d need if our ‘enemy’ does turn out to be monsters anyway. More importantly, this is meant to be a border defense stronghold, right? We’re far more likely to encounter foreign invaders than a swarm of monsters. Once Coco and Stella get back, we’ll ask them if there’s any specific monsters we need to worry about, and come up with some specific countermeasures then if we need to.”
At this point, the average person would probably wonder why I hadn’t simply told Vesta to ignore monster-based risks from the start, but considering every risk was the key part of a fault tree analysis. Simply putting everything on paper usually revealed all sorts of dangers you’d never have noticed otherwise.
Vesta, to his credit, didn’t seem even remotely annoyed by my decision to ignore a large part of his work, which meant he’d almost certainly already realized the reason behind it. “Understood. So if we work under the assumption of human opponents, and take into account the time restrictions...” He grabbed a new sheet of paper and began sketching. “We’d probably be looking at something like this,” he said, passing me the rough blueprint.
It was a simple, yet effective design. We’d build three wooden palisades around the stronghold, leaving intentional thoroughfares through each on completely opposite sides—kind of like a maze—to limit the number of enemies at any given time, while also reducing the chances of them simply attempting to destroy the structures instead. We’d also dig ourselves an underground escape route in case of emergency, obviously, in addition to some watchtowers on top of the ruins. It was a decent strategy, all in all, and one we’d be able to accomplish once the others returned from their little bonding trip. But even for a comfort zone, there was such a thing as too comfortable.
I shook my head. “Nope. It’s way too boring.”
Vesta’s expression stiffened. “It doesn’t matter if it’s boring, as long as—”
“Really, Vesta?! Is that really how you feel?! We’ve got a score to settle here, you know! By dumping us here, that old geezer’s robbing us of one of youth’s most precious experiences! Don’t you wanna teach him a lesson?!”
“What? You’re the one who nominated me to stay here though... Besides, I’m not really—”
“Yeah, that’s right! When someone pisses you off this much, you gotta make ’em pay—even if they are your homeroom teacher! See, now that’s the reaction I expect from Vesta von Stocklode, Class 1-A’s very own Bulwark! I can’t believe you let yourself even consider this kind of half-assed plan... You came up with every possible risk under the sun, and this is the plan you decide on? What was the point in being so nitpicky then?! What, do you think you’re some fussy mother-in-law bullying her son’s wife or something?!” I shouted, dragging my fingertip along the nearby rubble as though I was inspecting a TV unit for dust in a clichéd soap opera.
“B-Bulwark? What are you talking about?! And I don’t know what else you expected—I already told you I barely know anything about defensive strategies! Plus, this building probably wasn’t anything even remotely resembling a stronghold even before it went to ruin, and this position is going to be hard enough to defend without risking it all on some insane idea! With the resources and time we have, that’s the best result we—”
I pounded my fist into the palm of my other hand. “Now I get it! Great idea, Vesta! You’re right. We don’t need to rely on only these ruins. They’ll make the perfect base for the watchtower of our fortress compound! If we build a few smaller ‘strongholds’ and make use of the terrain, we should be able to make this section of the border impassable! Godolphen won’t stand a chance!”
Vesta—who by this point had turned worryingly pale—didn’t agree. “What the hell are you thinking, Allen?! Also, why do you seem to believe we’re going to be fighting Master Godolphen?! And how in the world are you planning to build a large-scale mountain fortress in seventy-two hours?!”
“Huh? We don’t have to finish building it, obviously. Godolphen said we had seventy-two hours to repair and reinforce the stronghold where possible, in preparation for the enemy’s return—it’s pretty vague, you have to admit. But if we’re talking reinforcements, aren’t we better off reinforcing our defenses at the border itself, rather than hanging around these old ruins? Godolphen’s gonna be thrilled. It’s pretty obvious how the rest of the camp’s gonna go at this point. We’ll be given the fourth scenario as soon as the third one’s over, and the fifth scenario’s gonna be a defensive battle against these mysterious ‘enemy forces’ he keeps going on about. If we let ourselves fall into the trap of taking his stupid scenarios at face value, we’ll be walking right into a losing battle. No more arguing! My decision is final!”
And thus, our course of action was set. It did take a few minutes before Vesta recovered, most of which he spent reenacting one of those manga panels where you see the character’s soul escaping from their mouth—well, that’s how it looked to me, anyway.