The air in the council chamber did more than freeze at my declaration; it sank into the heavy stillness that precedes a great storm.
The retainers stared at me with eyes full of shock and trepidation, while Medea, standing at my side, had a strange, piercing brilliance in her gaze.
"Your Majesty, are you serious? Our opponent is a three-kingdom alliance... Even by raw numbers alone, their forces outnumber our army by more than two to one!"
The old minister, who had been lecturing on military strategy, offered his counsel in a trembling voice, but I did not even spare him a glance.
Instead, I reached out and toppled the red flags placed upon the map, one by one.
"Numbers are merely a comfort for the disorderly. Valcion’s iron mines, Nereia’s granaries, and the ports of the petty states to the east... They provided the pretext; I am simply 'cleaning up' the mess."
After the meeting ended and the room had cleared, Medea placed a hand on my shoulder and whispered, "If you wish it, my King, I can drive their commanders mad in a single night, or sever their supply lines with a curse. My magecraft exists only to be your blade."
As she spoke, her eyes shimmered with a mixture of absolute devotion and a desperate need to prove her worth. I lightly tapped the back of her hand.
"Fear is fleeting, but order is eternal. Medea, use your magecraft to shroud the battlefield in fog. Use that 'crossroads' magic to make the enemy turn their blades upon one another. And... I cannot simply slaughter the people of those lands, for they are to become my subjects."
At my words, Medea fell silent.
She simply gazed at me, as if savoring the weight of my words.
Then, a faint smile spread across her lips.
"...As I thought."
She murmured softly, her voice barely a breath.
"You are... different from the others."
Her hand slowly slid from my shoulder.
"...Understood, my King."
Medea bowed her head deeply.
"Then I shall... ensure they lose their way, exactly as you commanded."
I nodded.
Then, I looked out the window.
The capital of the kingdom.
The bustling streets and vibrant markets...
"...Send a messenger."
The moment the order left my lips, the knight standing beside me immediately dropped to one knee.
"Deliver this to Valcion, Nereia, and all the petty states of the east. The King of Eirene speaks."
Without looking at the knight, I slowly dictated the terms of the message.
"If you withdraw your armies now, I shall overlook your crimes. But if you take even one more step forward..."
My gaze shifted from the peacefully glowing city to the distant, dark outskirts where no light reached.
"From that moment on, this war will no longer be one of 'defense' or 'resistance'—it will become a war of 'conquest.'"
As I finished, the knight’s voice trembled.
"I... I shall carry out your will!"
After he departed, silence reclaimed the room.
Medea quietly stepped up beside me.
"...A declaration of war, then."
I shook my head.
"No. A final ultimatum."
***
Messengers bearing my words were dispatched to each nation.
They returned three days later.
What they brought back was not a promise of peace.
The King of Valcion had torn the letter to shreds in the messenger's face, and the armored divisions of Nereia had already begun crossing the border river.
"Death to the arrogant upstart king of Eirene!"
When their mocking reply echoed through the council chamber, the retainers turned pale. My heart, however, only grew colder. The window for mercy had closed; all that remained was the 'cleanup' I had promised.
"Good. This makes things simpler. Gather the troops—let the war begin!"
And so, I prepared for the coming conflict.
Later, on the Castor Plain near the border, thirty thousand soldiers of the three-kingdom alliance filled the horizon like a massive bank of black clouds.
Facing them were twelve thousand of Eirene’s forces. The numerical disadvantage was stark, yet at the vanguard stood warriors who existed on a different plane than ordinary soldiers.
The elite of the Adventurer Guild I had founded. Superhumans who sought not gold, but honor and the chance to prove themselves under my order. They stood wrapped in the shimmering radiance of Medea’s enhancement magecraft, staring down the enemy alongside other heroes gathered from across the land.
I mounted Noctis and raised my holy sword high.
Beside me, Medea stood in black ceremonial robes, her staff gripped firmly, ready to begin her incantation.
"Medea, begin."
At my command, a surge of pitch-black violet mist erupted from the tip of Medea’s staff, sweeping across the plain.
It was no mere smoke screen. The mist wove a complex illusion upon hundreds of enemies simultaneously; comrades appeared as foes to be slaughtered, and the path of retreat looked like a sheer cliff.
"Aaaagh! The man next to me has betrayed us! Kill him!"
"Where is the road?! The fog... the fog is pulling at my feet!"
The invaders who had dared enter Eirene were plunged into a living hell of chaos. Watching the carnage, I raised my sword and bellowed,
"Warriors of Eirene, execute order! Spare those who surrender, but grant eternal rest to those who hold a weapon!"
At my signal, the warriors of Eirene charged into the fractured enemy ranks.
The elite of the Adventurer Guild tore through the defensive lines, leveraging Medea’s enhancements and the confusion of the fog. They were no longer mere soldiers; they were reapers.
Trained under my absolute rule, these elites advanced without a flicker of hesitation, even as the enemy screamed and butchered one another.
The regular soldiers of Eirene followed their lead, carving a path of victory across the field.
From atop Noctis, I surveyed the slaughter.
The alliance's formation had completely disintegrated. Soldiers were either discarding their weapons in blind panic or killing their own brothers-in-arms within the violet haze.
Yet, amidst the collapse, a single current refused to break.
Among the scattering remnants, a small group began to lock shields, reforming a line.
"Do not break! This is magecraft! Trust not your eyes—follow the voices of your comrades!"
It was a low, iron-willed shout.
At those words, several soldiers ceased their panic, confirming each other's positions and stabilizing the line.
The formation, which had seemed utterly destroyed, barely managed to regain its shape.
I watched them for a moment, then pulled Noctis’s reins.
"...That will suffice."
I didn't shout.
I simply turned my horse and walked slowly toward the point where the enemy was attempting to rally.
The sound of Noctis’s hooves striking the earth rang out with an eerie, piercing clarity.
One by one, the soldiers in the fog turned their gaze toward me.
"...It's the King," someone whispered.
I did not answer.
I merely tightened my grip on my sword and came to a halt before their line.
A man who appeared to be the enemy commander stepped forward.
"We will retreat no further."
I nodded slowly.
"...So it seems."
The enemy moved first.
With a short battle cry, the soldiers surged forward in unison.
A disciplined line. Shields and spears interlocked, creating a wall of pressure far different from the previous chaos.
I raised my sword.
I parried the first spear, letting it slide off my blade, and stepped past the following shield.
I didn't rely on brute force; I sought the gaps—short, precise strikes.
The moment the lead soldier lost his balance, the row behind him naturally buckled.
Eirene’s soldiers immediately surged into the breach.
"Push left!"
At the command from the rear, our line shifted in perfect synchronization.
I stepped forward again, closing the distance between myself and the commander.
He did not flinch.
Our blades clashed.
A brief, heavy impact.
It was not a contest of strength, but a game of timing.
The instant his sword lifted, I slipped beneath his guard a heartbeat later.
A short, sharp thrust.
The man's body froze.
He remained silent until the end.
He simply staggered back, losing his footing, and collapsed along with the soldiers who had been supporting him.
The reformed line wavered once more.
I looked back at my army and spoke a single word: "...Now."
On that cue, Eirene’s soldiers drove forward with everything they had.
It was a formation that had already broken once. They tried to hold, but without their center, the balance vanished instantly.
The line shattered. The remaining soldiers dropped their weapons in submission.
I did not pursue those who fled.
Lowering my sword, I slowly surveyed the surroundings.
The fog still lingered, but the screams of chaos were finally fading into silence.
"...It is settled."
With that, I knew the victory was absolute.
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