NOVPUBIt wasn’t only the high-ranking nobles of the Royalist and Ducal factions who were taken aback by Ghislain’s actions.
Those most affected were nobles who had heavily invested in Rosalyn’s trading company, trusting her judgment.
“A war? Then what’s going to happen with cosmetics production?”
“If Baron Fenris loses, we’ll lose every bit of our investment!”
“There’s no doubt the Ducal faction will end up seizing the cosmetic technology!”
They gathered daily, sharing their concerns about the ongoing situation. With the Marquis of Branford’s strict order not to interfere, there was nothing else they could do.
They aired their worries to Rosalyn, but she, too, was just as stunned by the current turn of events.
“Ugh, a war? Declaring war at a time like this—is he out of his mind?”
In truth, Rosalyn was perhaps the most stressed of them all.
She had confidently gathered investors, but now everything was on the brink of collapse.
Beyond financial losses, the credibility of the Marquis’s house—and her own reputation—was at stake. It was enough to drive her mad.
Even Mariel, who had invested a significant amount, came to Rosalyn daily with words of concern.
“What should we do? If Baron Fenris loses, the losses will be tremendous.”
“... All we can do is hope he wins.”
“He’s won a war before, hasn’t he? So maybe he’ll win this one too. Just a hunch.”
Although more of a hopeful thought than an actual hunch, neither dared to call it out as such.
“... Honestly, I don’t know.”
Rosalyn shook her head with a conflicted expression.
Judging from known information, the Cabaldi forces clearly had the upper hand in both strength and reputation.
There were rumors that Ghislain had sold off food to gather soldiers, but it was hard to believe that would be enough to defeat Count Cabaldi.
Mariel spoke with a worried look.
“We’ve stocked up enough food to hold out for a while, but other nobles haven’t. We’ll have to keep them calm until the outcome is clear.”
“Yes, otherwise it’ll be absolute chaos.”
Both Rosalyn and Mariel bore some responsibility for the situation, having promoted and actively attracted investors.
A significant number of nobles had invested in the cosmetics venture. As a result, the two of them had no choice but to attend daily gatherings disguised as “social events for investors.”
They would’ve liked to flee from it all, but vanishing would only worsen things.
Luckily, their influence was strong enough that, for now, no one openly blamed them; they just gathered in small groups at the edge of the ballroom, expressing their fears among themselves.
“What am I supposed to do? I invested 3,000 gold! If Baron Fenris loses, I’ll be ruined!”
“Pretend it’s not your money. It’ll put your mind at ease.”
“It’s not my money, that’s why I’m panicking!”
“... Pardon?”
While some were frantically worried after borrowing funds from others, others held onto a sliver of hope.
“Will worrying like this really solve anything? Let’s stay hopeful and keep going!”
“Yes, that’s right! Let’s all do our best! One, two!”
“Push!”
“Yes, but despite our efforts, it feels like we’re all screwed...”
Of course, some had already resigned themselves to the worst.
“Come on, there’s no point in fretting. It’s bad for your health. Just relax, focus on your family, and reflect on the value of what you had...”
“Shut up.”
“What? What did you just say to me?”
Crash!
Disputes between the resigned and the enraged were endless.
Bottles and glasses flew across the ballroom, and amidst the chaos, a fire suddenly broke out in one corner. It was unclear if it was set intentionally or simply an accident from a dropped candle.
“Fire! There’s a fire!”
“Everyone, get out! There’s a fire!”
One noble, still dazed, asked, “Is this good news?”
“No, it’s a fire! Get yourself together!”
With scenes like this occurring daily, Rosalyn and Mariel were near the end of their wits.
After agonizing over it, Rosalyn turned to Mariel with a serious expression.
“Do you have any cash left?”
“What? I spent it all on food! I don’t have anything left!”
When Mariel recoiled, Rosalyn shook her head.
“I don’t mean for more investment... I thought we could hire a few skilled people to send to the battlefield.”
“For what? An assassination attempt on Count Cabaldi? Would that even work?”
“No, not that. If it looks like we’re going to lose, we can at least save Baron Fenris. Maybe send a priest along, too.”
“We could find some decent mercenaries, but... finding a priest might be difficult.”
Like the Mage Tower, temples couldn’t officially take part in wars due to both legal and religious restrictions.
Even the Temple of the Goddess of War only allowed battles against heretics and abominations.
Moreover, the number of priests capable of using holy power was so low that most rural areas were left with only a handful of missionaries spreading doctrine.
Rosalyn bit her lip as she continued.
“That’s why I asked if you had cash. If we offer a donation and frame it as helping out on the way, they might agree.”
“Hmm, yeah. It could work if we insist... but the Marquis would be furious if he found out.”
“That’s why... we’ll wait and step in only if it looks like he’s about to lose.”
They couldn’t interfere during the battle, but after it ended, a priest could technically intervene on humanitarian grounds.
Though only nobles could pull off such a loophole.
“We’re not directly getting involved in the war. We’re just... helping out a noble in need after they lost a battle. Even if Baron Fenris doesn’t surrender, we could have him do so on our behalf.”
Rosalyn, bracing for the possibility of Ghislain’s defeat, devised a plan to send skilled people to ensure his survival.
If things became dire, they’d save Ghislain and declare a surrender in the Marquis of Branford’s name. With that backing, Count Cabaldi wouldn’t be able to recklessly charge in.
‘Maybe that’s even better. He could live at the Marquis’s estate... perhaps even as a son-in-law... oh, what am I thinking?’
Though marriage to someone like him was out of the question, saving Ghislain would mean preserving the cosmetics technology, along with her reputation, the Marquis’s authority, and the trading company’s assets.
Mariel understood Rosalyn’s intent. Though it was a thinly veiled excuse, with good timing, they might intervene after the war with a plausible excuse for mediation.
“Yes, but we’d need top-tier mercenaries for that, and it’ll cost a lot. We’d also need a priest, which would require cash.”
Due to the risks, payment would have to be entirely in cash, to allow a quick escape if necessary.
And priests, ever wary of scandals, always preferred cash donations.
Though Mariel pointed out the difficulties, Rosalyn, now determined, was unmoved.
“We have to make it happen. If Baron Fenris dies, we’ll suffer even greater losses.”
“Alright. I’ll see what I can manage.”
And so, pooling together every bit of cash they had, they hired ten experts in rescue and—if needed—assassination, along with a single priest, sending them to the battlefield with strict instructions to step in only if the time was right.
* * *
Upon reading the war declaration pinned to an arrow, Count Cabaldi ground his teeth.
The justification Ghislain presented for the war was simple:
— “To rescue my oppressed subjects and punish Count Cabaldi.”
Among the former residents of the Degald County, many couldn’t bear the oppressive rule of their lord and had fled.
As soon as Ghislain took over Fenris, he courteously requested that the neighboring lords return any subjects who had fled.
Unsurprisingly, the lords ignored him. Who would willingly return free labor?
They all gave excuses, saying they had no knowledge of it, denying the matter entirely, or claiming they were unaware.
Count Cabaldi had also captured runaways and forced them to work in his iron mines.
Without a second thought, he treated them like slaves, unconcerned for their well-being.
But now, that incident was being used as a justification for war.
“That arrogant brat, to use this as a pretext! Did he think so little of me?”
Ghislain had never followed up on the matter after his initial request, so Count Cabaldi had dismissed him as just another powerless upstart.
Now it seemed Ghislain had planned the request, intending to create a pretext for war.
“Did he really anticipate all this? No, that’s impossible. He must’ve just seen an opportunity and twisted it into some ridiculous excuse.”
Count Cabaldi tried to contain his anger.
Though he had initially been startled by Ghislain’s large force, the situation wasn’t that bad.
Since the enemy had made the first move, he could crush them and seize Fenris to secure a steady food supply.
However, the size of the enemy’s force made a direct confrontation risky. Even if he won, it would be a costly victory.
But the same held true for Ghislain.
“He must realize that too, which is why he’s only laying siege and not launching an assault.”
The Fenris forces hadn’t even brought siege equipment.
Even if they had an impressive number of soldiers, facing the fortified Cabaldi forces from the safety of a castle wall meant that victory for Ghislain’s forces was not
assured.
So, he seemed content to lay siege, likely hoping Count Cabaldi’s supplies would run out and his forces would starve.
It was this tactic that infuriated Count Cabaldi.
He wasn’t afraid of losing; he had no doubt in his mind that he could win.
What wounded his pride was the sheer audacity—that this brat believed he could defeat him.
The mere thought that someone so young, a mere child who wasn’t even born when he ascended to lordship, thought he could best him with such a shallow strategy was an unbearable humiliation.
“How dare that whelp think he could challenge me without even bringing siege engines! How lowly does he think of me?”
Count Cabaldi’s eyes grew cold and calculating.
Fueled by a desire for revenge, he planned to use this as a pretext not only to defeat Ghislain but to go even further and bring ruin upon Perdeium. He would show what happened when one underestimated him.
The morale among his troops had been declining as supplies dwindled, but Count Cabaldi remained certain of his victory.
“As soon as Desmond learns of the situation, he’ll make his move.”
Though he’d been neglecting Cabaldi’s territory recently, Desmond would never allow it to fall, as losing it would severely impact his iron supply.
Moreover, Cabaldi was confident that the Ducal faction had already begun negotiations with the Royalist faction to prevent further escalation.
“Foolish boy. Just because he gained a bit of fame, he thinks he can act recklessly. Did he truly believe he could beat me with such crude tactics?”
Count Cabaldi held a unique position of strength in the North, backed by the Ducal faction and allied closely with the Grand Duke, Desmond.
Even high-ranking Royalist nobles dared not touch him.
And yet, this young upstart was oblivious to all this and, blinded by short-term gain, had dared to march his forces here.
“He knows only how to gamble but understands nothing of politics or warfare.”
All he needed to do was wait. Once Desmond’s reinforcements arrived, he would crush Ghislain’s forces with ease.
With the Ducal faction supporting him, the Royalist faction would be powerless to interfere.
“Your luck ends here. I’ll make sure that both you and your father pay dearly.”
Count Cabaldi stewed in his fury, resolved to personally see Ghislain fall by his hand.
While Count Cabaldi waited in seething anger for reinforcements, the mood in Ghislain’s camp grew increasingly relaxed.
The knights, especially, wore smug expressions, their confidence bordering on arrogance.
“Thought I’d get a chance to stretch a bit, but looks like my mana-infused sword is scaring them off.”
“Those cowards are holed up in their fortress. They’re practically cowering. Guess we’re a bit intimidating, huh? Hahaha.”
“So we just sit back and wait, and we win? This couldn’t be easier! Hahaha!”
With their supplies dwindling, Cabaldi’s forces couldn’t last much longer. And even if they wanted to come out, they faced an opposing army with greater numbers.
The soldiers started picking up on this, and soon the air was filled with lighthearted banter and ease.
Even the troops who had been tense at first began to relax, and the atmosphere shifted toward optimism.
Winning a war without fighting? None of them could argue with that.
“Gotta hand it to our lord. He sure knows how to pick his moment.”
“I heard rumors he was a bit... unorthodox, but he’s actually quite sharp, isn’t he?”
“Of course! A lord who wins wars without fighting must be extraordinary!”
With no fighting required, praise for Ghislain flowed freely. The troops enjoyed the comfort of not having to fight and the regular rations supplied by Claude, who was handling logistics.
“If war was always this easy, I’d be up for it anytime!”
The soldiers were practically singing Ghislain’s praises.
Even the dwarves and mages, brought along by force, were enjoying a break, resting in their tents and savoring the respite.
“Hah, seems I was worried for nothing. If it’s like this, why did they even bring us along?”
“Probably just in case they surrender or something.”
“Well, it’s nice to have some time off without doing any work, isn’t it?”
Freed from their usual heavy tasks, the dwarves and mages laughed and relaxed.
After a few days of peaceful rest, some even began to find life on the battlefield surprisingly pleasant.
Just as everyone was enjoying the easy days, however, Ghislain, who had been observing Cabaldi’s fortress, issued a sudden new order.
“From now on, we’ll start digging tunnels.”
At his words, everyone shared the same bewildered thought.
‘Why? We’re already winning just by sitting here. Why would we start digging?’
It seemed their lord had returned to his odd ideas and had come up with yet another unexpected strategy.
