295 - Speech
――In the Walt family's camp, Myzel was delivering a speech.
"We are fifty thousand. In contrast, the enemy numbers seventy thousand. In terms of pure combat power, the opponent likely possesses nearly twice our numbers. But... what of it!"
Raising his right arm, Myzel shouted at the top of his lungs from atop a makeshift platform.
"Mere rebels. Moreover, their numbers are only twice ours. The training and experience we have accumulated are the finest on the continent! Scatter this collection of weaklings, and offer up those fools who dared venture into a field battle as a blood sacrifice!"
The knights and soldiers cheered at Myzel's speech. It was partly due to Myzel's inherent charisma, but primarily it was his track record.
Like the previous heads of the Walt family, Myzel had achieved numerous victories. From his first battle until now, he had never once lost. In war, experiencing a single defeat can result in devastating losses.
Recovering from such a blow is difficult, and if one does not continue to win, they will perish. In such an environment, Myzel—who had continued to win—and the name of the Walt family, along with the well-trained Walt army, possessed high morale.
"Win this battle and return in triumph to Central! Earn your achievements! Seize honor in your hands! Gold! And status! The Walt family, who have continued to win on the battlefield, shall grant victory to you!"
The opponent was Lyell, who also hailed from the Walt family and had been raised by the previous heads, but such things were irrelevant to Myzel and his men.
The important thing was to raise morale. An army with low morale is fragile.
Furthermore, Myzel understood that the opponent held the advantage in both numbers and terrain. That was precisely why he was using his speech to heighten their spirits.
"Now, brave warriors—enjoy the battlefield!"
As Myzel spread his arms and shouted, the army of tens of thousands responded with a roar of cheers—.
The Walt army was close.
I, positioned to await them, stood atop a makeshift platform. It was early morning, and since the sun had not yet fully risen, the light was dazzling to look at.
In the midst of this, looking back, Eva lightly raised her right hand and waved. She was likely letting me know that preparations were complete. Or perhaps she was cheering me on.
As I gripped the Jewel, the voice of the Third Generation spoke.
"...Well, I cannot offer any more advice beyond this. It would be boring if Myzel-kun managed to confuse you, so my use of skills ends here. Lyell... I hope I can hear your voice again. Well, there are no absolutes on the battlefield, but the same goes for the opponent. Normally, I would have wanted to make more preparations. ...No, any more than that would just be complaining. Now, let us raise our morale. Speeches are important."
I let go of the Jewel and spread my arms. I opened them as if holding a large platter, and behind me, Eva was supporting me with the skill [All-Mind Language].
A skill that delivers one's voice to the opponent. It was fitting for Eva, a singer, but it was a skill she didn't like to use much because she didn't want to rely on skills.
However, it was a help to me now.
Because even with a clumsy speech, my voice would reach my allies.
"...The strongest army of Banseime is approaching. The enemy numbers fifty thousand. They are elites who have survived numerous battles."
Starting with words that stoked anxiety, I then clenched my right hand into a fist. Then, I swept my left hand sideways from the inside out.
"But, the same is true for us. We have also continued to win. Many of you have joined us along the way. The soldiers of Beime may be anxious. But there is no need for worry. Ask our allies in the Four-Nation Alliance! Just how many victories I have claimed! I have overturned combat power differences of over ten times!"
It wasn't a lie. In the battle at Zain, we rose up with a hundred men. After that, we spent time running around, but in the end, we won and reclaimed Zain.
"I have never lost! I have continued to win! There are those who can prove it. And you, people of Banseime, should understand after fighting me. I am strong. We are strong! We have fought enemies that outnumbered us and continued to win!"
I had avoided battles in disadvantageous situations, but since I won in the end, it was no problem. I could say that I had crushed the enemy with a small force. Though I had never once fought an opponent who had more troops than I did.
"This time, our numbers are greater than the enemy's. Additionally, the advantage of the terrain is ours. The enemy is certainly powerful... however! Even if the opponent is the strongest of Banseime, the Walt family, we are the ones who will win! If everyone does what they must, we can achieve victory! This battle is not that difficult!"
In any case—I kept the speech at a level of "we can win, but don't let your guard down." Being too careless is bad. But making them think they would lose is also bad. Therefore, I made them feel a sense of crisis by suggesting that victory is possible, but the margin is slim.
The Seventh Generation had taught me this.
"With your efforts, make the Goddess of Victory turn her gaze toward us! If you do, the title of the strongest on the continent will be ours! Win and seize everything!"
Cheers erupted. Then, I remembered the words of the Seventh Generation.
――Inside the Jewel.
It was during the time I was traveling through the memories of the Seventh Generation.
It was a journey where I could learn about Broad's life, and for Lyell, about Myzel, who was his father.
The young and talent-overflowing Myzel must have been a dazzling existence even from Broad's perspective. Broad himself could not be called untalented. However, even so, he was inevitably inferior when compared to Myzel.
Because he was the Seventh Generation, perhaps Broad suffered from this.
The First Generation would have thought nothing of it. The Second Generation would have accepted it simply. The Third Generation would have rejoiced. The Fourth Generation would likely have accepted it too. The Fifth Generation might have handed over the succession early. The Sixth Generation... would surely have bragged about it.
But Myzel's father was Broad. A small crack existed between the two. Myzel, who was talented and did not think deeply, could not understand that gap.
In the garden of the mansion, Broad was talking with Myzel.
"Myzel, I have gathered guns, but this is quite difficult. Even if we operate them as a unit, we must entrust them to people we can trust. They have power, but operating them requires knowledge unlike anything we've had until now—"
Broad's accumulated experience. He was in the middle of trying to convey it to Myzel. Looking closely, the still-young Zel was also there.
Seeing Zel, Lyell muttered.
"...Old man Zel."
The Seventh Generation, while watching Lyell, said.
"Zel was entrusted with one of the units equipped with guns. Because he handled guns just like I did. When I went hunting, I often took Zel along."
Beyond the gaze of the nostalgic Seventh Generation was the figure of Myzel, with a saber hanging at his waist. However, his expression was one of genuine bewilderment.
Tilting his head.
"Why is Father so obsessed with guns? Even with our family's scale, we cannot fully equip units with guns. Not only does it cost money, but we also need to place excellent personnel. In that case, it would be more efficient to assemble a well-equipped cavalry."
He spoke with genuine curiosity. Broad, facing such a Myzel, cleared his throat.
"It is certainly a unit with many problems. However, when operated correctly, it demonstrates great power. I believe this unit will become a primary one in the future. Especially, if... so that the lines of fire intersect—hey, Myzel!"
As Broad hurriedly reached out his hand, Myzel was already turning his back and walking away.
"I have no need for them. Besides, how many years will it take before guns are put into practical use?"
Broad, flustered, replied.
"N-no... it will take time, but if we make them magic tools and gradually increase the number—"
"Making them magic tools will cost even more money. The maintenance costs would be an astronomical amount. In my generation, even if we keep them, it will likely be on a small scale. There are certainly shining aspects, but the impact on other areas is far too great."
The Seventh Generation let out a sigh. Then, he explained to Lyell.
"...I felt an inferiority complex because I supplemented my own strength with guns. Indeed, against a knight with some renown, firing a few bullets has no effect. My skills, Box and Warp, were necessary to compensate for that flaw. I was happy when my skills manifested."
Lyell, looking at his father, Myzel, said.
"...I wonder if I would have been like that too, if I hadn't noticed. When I first fought Aria, everyone got angry at me."
"Hahaha, that's right. Yes, you've become easier to get along with than back then. Well, it's not that Myzel was wrong. In fact, even during the time after I died and while Lyell lived, it's hard to say they were put into practical use. Besides—"
The gazes of Lyell and the Seventh Generation turned toward Myzel. Myzel replied with an exasperated tone.
"Father, my skill is Anti-Skill. In other words, magic tools are meaningless. There is no need to be obsessed with things like guns."
Watching Myzel walk away, Broad wore a complex expression—.
At the main camp.
I climbed the watchtower and looked into the distance. I could see the army centered around the flag of Banseime—the Walt family—approaching where we were waiting.
By the time they came within detectable distance, they had formed their ranks and were approaching slowly.
Beside me, Monica looked at the opponent.
"It's a formation that seems to emphasize attack power. It looks like they intend to break through before being surrounded. No, perhaps it's more like a straight line aimed at the main camp."
We won in numbers. According to theory, surrounding and striking them would be enough. However, in the face of the Walt family's breakthrough power, that would be a foolish move.
The mobile watchtower was carefully made and sturdy. I said to Monica.
"The line with me has been cut."
The moment the army became visible, I felt as if a thin mist had descended. I felt an abnormality in the flow of magical power, and the line with Monica was severed. It was similar to the sensation when using a magic tool by force.
Monica made a theatrical gesture of wiping a tear with her fingertip.
"To cut the connection between me and the chicken coward... but we're connected in our hearts, so it's okay, right!"
Since she kept casting glances at me as if seeking something, when I remained silent, Monica asked "We're connected in our hearts, so it's okay, right! Right!" over and over. Moreover, her eyes gradually became teary.
"That's right. We're connected. So, keep a proper watch. You can't move much this time."
A happy Monica's twin-tails bounced up and down.
"Honestly! What a hopeless chicken coward you are! Very well. This Monica shall teach you how to be useful even as a lookout. I shall prove to you that this Monica is the one who devotes herself to the chicken coward more than anyone else!"
Since she was so enthusiastic, I gave a half-hearted reply like "do your best" and jumped down from the watchtower. Then, I headed toward the tent while giving instructions to those around me.
"Baldoor is on standby, right? Don't let him out until preparations are complete. First, it'll be a flashy exchange of magic. We'll show them that we aren't breaking to make them cautious. Hurry the mages' preparations."
As I said that, the messengers ran off in all directions.
Novem walked toward me, leading a squad of Valkyries. Clara was standing on the ceiling of the porter, looking into the distance. The other members were not present.
"Lyell-sama, I intend to go to the front lines as well. My father and brother should be here. In that case, the only ones who can fight them properly are—"
I looked at Novem and waved my hand sideways.
"I know. But... I dislike that detached attitude of 'I will fight my family matter-of-factly'."
At that, Novem's eyes widened slightly, and then she immediately began to laugh. It was a cute, giggling laugh.
"Those words apply to Lyell-sama as well. However, if Lyell-sama finds it unpleasant, shall I look a bit more sad?"
"It would look fake, so forget it. Well, in my case, it can't be helped. In your case, this only happened because you followed me, right? Can't you persuade them?"
I had asked several times if the Foxus family could be brought over to our side, but Novem only shook her head.
"My father will never betray Myzel-sama. That would be equal to the probability of me betraying Lyell-sama. Therefore, we will decide the winner and loser on the battlefield. Even so, was it alright to attach this many Valkyries to me?"
Novem looked back at the Valkyrie squad and spoke. I ran a hand through my hair.
"I can't move, after all. Well, because you're important... oops, has it started?"
As I said that and looked toward the enemy camp, light was approaching.
On our side, we deployed magic shields, and the sky was enveloped in a pale yellow as magic struck directly. There were explosions, and some of the magic shields were destroyed amidst the smoke. Fortunately, there were no casualties on our side.
We had defended the important parts thickly. To efficiently utilize the limited and precious knights and mages, I had paid close attention to the placement.
"Then, I shall be going."
"...Be careful."
"Lyell-sama will have a harder time than I will."
Saying that, Novem began to move.
Looking at the sky, magic was being fired from our side toward the enemy camp. Magic shields were deployed on their side just as they were on ours, and all the magic was blocked. It seemed like a wasted action, but the opponent was using such actions to probe whether we were panicking.
My father, Myzel, interferes with the use of skills. To a greater or lesser extent, when you reach the scale of an army, there are people with special skills. I've heard that if you rely on such people, you can suddenly fall into chaos.
"It's thanks to the Seventh Generation. We can handle this without breaking. Now, Father... the fun starts now."
As I glared at the enemy camp, a second wave of magic was fired from their side.
――At Myzel's main camp, upon confirming that the enemy had not broken, those gathered looked surprised.
Bail, watching the opponent's movements, said.
"They are composed. From the information, I had the impression of an army specialized in skills, but they don't seem to be breaking."
Myzel laughed as he watched his allies block the magic fired from Lyell's camp.
"If they broke at this level, the fun would be gone."
Normally, many armies rely on some kind of skill. There were quite a few people who used them as means of communication or had skills to scout from afar. If you move an army of ten thousand, there are bound to be people with some skills.
Because of that, when Myzel activated Anti-Skill in the early stages, quite a few armies would collapse. Armies that did not do so demonstrated that their foundations were solid.
"I have no intention of taking my time. We will close the distance as we are. Advance."
The entire army began to move to close the distance.
Lyell's camp was in a waiting position, with fences made of wood and other materials installed. Therefore, since they could not move, the distance closed slowly.
While there was a flashy exchange of magic, in reality, the battle began in a subdued manner—.