Ch.254Chapter 254. Zugzwang

Yurie racked her brain as quickly as she could.

Running a relief camp might not be such a difficult task in itself.

But this wasn’t the north—this was right in the middle of the Central Continent, in a street that had been ravaged most severely by the plague.

Finding volunteers in this situation was nearly impossible, and if she were to operate one, it would have to be forced… which would surely cost her the trust of soldiers who feared contracting the plague.

Yurie herself knew well that soldier morale was lower than ever. Her instincts as a lord told her that if she pushed them any further, things would not end well.

That wasn’t the only problem.

With supply lines to the mainland cut off by Chel’s forces, Yurie’s army was in no position to claim their resources were in good shape.

The complaint that “supplies that should rightfully come to us are leaking to territory residents in areas that weren’t even part of our army’s domain until a few months ago” might sound extreme, but in this resource-scarce situation, it was a grievance that could easily emerge.

But what if she didn’t run the camp?

In truth, this was closer to the right choice. The plague was a natural disaster after all, and no one could really be blamed for it.

—If only she hadn’t been so careless with her words.

She knew how politically disadvantageous it would be if “Serpina, who is accused of causing the plague, runs a relief camp, while I do nothing.”

She wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that, or so she thought.

“…No.”

I start to think that perhaps I am stupid after all.

Who created this situation where I’m forced to make such a choice?

Was it Serpina? Or perhaps one of my two remaining comrades?

It was myself.

I was the one who brought all of this to this point.

My mind was so muddled that I even began to think that perhaps… it was my fault that I lost my comrades due to the war and the plague.

“Um, my lord…?”

“…I’ll answer later… please leave me.”

Yurie managed to swallow something boiling deep within her heart before speaking.

The soldier responded loudly and then, reading the atmosphere, quietly slipped out of the palace.

‘Emma… and Erinandorf… what should I do now…? What should we… do?!’

No matter how long she clutched her head and silently questioned her departed comrades, no answer came.

* * *

What does it mean to hover between life and death?

For many people, it might have different meanings, but for Anima—it meant repeatedly experiencing hallucinations of a specific situation from the past.

That very moment when she made an unchangeable promise with the five survivors of the tragedy at the academy long ago.

The moment when she swore with her childhood friend to put their souls into a red flag… that scene kept repeating over and over in her vision.

She had regained consciousness briefly a few times.

She vaguely remembered speaking or eating, but looking back, it was still all static noise, and she couldn’t tell what day it was or what time it was.

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed…

“…Ah.”

At the very moment when Yurie reached out her hand once more to grasp Anima’s, she properly realized for the first time that she was lying in bed.

“…Where is…”

Once her mind returned, she began to grasp the situation with surprising speed.

I had contracted the plague. That’s why I was bedridden.

Doctors came to check on me occasionally and told me various things, but I don’t remember the content of those conversations well.

Still, my body feels light. The experience of my head burning as if I had swallowed a pit of fire is still vivid… but now, I can breathe properly.

Anima slowly got up, flexed and unflexed her remaining hand, and—

“…Is anyone there?”

“Strategist…?”

Anima’s perception began to flow once more.

* * *

Upon hearing that she had properly regained consciousness, Epinel was the first to visit.

“Are you really okay now, Anima?”

“Yes. My physical condition is fine, but… are you sure it’s okay to come so close to me? Even though they say I’m cured, you never know.”

“It’s fine. Seeing how the cured patients and their families are doing well, once you’re cured, you’re no longer a threat.”

“…Really?”

Anima sighed briefly, then said with a slight sob:

“So Emma… is really dead?”

“Yes… she contracted the plague and passed away.”

“Hah…”

Tears streamed down her cheeks once more.

“I thought I’d heard about it before… so Emma really is dead.”

“She was in very bad condition… Anima, the fact that you survived like this is a miracle in itself. This plague has an incredibly high mortality rate.”

“I know…”

Anima knew that it could have easily been her who died.

…Continuing to wallow in grief over losing Emma wouldn’t be what the deceased would want.

Anima quickly wiped away her tears, composed herself, and moved on to the main topic.

“What’s happened while I was out?”

“The front line is at a stalemate. The plague has spread to Chel’s army and even Kalintz’s forces. The plague itself seems to have peaked somewhat… but honestly, I don’t know when it will enter a lull.”

“Has anything else happened?”

“Anything else… I suppose Serpina’s army setting up relief camps for plague victims would count.”

“Serpina’s army?”

Surprised by the unexpected name, Anima’s voice trembled slightly, and Epinel slowly nodded.

“Yes. I suppose she’s conscious of the rumors that she spread the plague.”

“…Wait. She spread the plague? What are you talking about?”

“Ah, that’s right. You haven’t been fully conscious all this time…”

Epinel explained in detail what had happened to Anima.

How Serpina had issued a blockade as if she had anticipated the plague, and how based on that, the Aeshus army had made a kind of declaration against Serpina’s forces.

“What? You’re saying our army publicly claimed that Serpina spread the plague…?”

“…Yes.”

Anima struck the bed with her fist and said:

“What kind of nonsense is that! If it’s true that she deliberately spread the plague, then she also saved the lives of the Central Continent’s territory residents! The claim doesn’t make sense from the start. Besides, how could anyone spread something like a plague?”

“Well, Serpina’s army does have a magician…”

“Even in historical records about magicians, there’s nothing about them directly creating plagues. Hah… anyway, so that’s why she’s running relief camps? Don’t her soldiers have anything to say about it?”

“It seems that way… I don’t know if they were threatened or what, but they’re actively dedicated to relief efforts as if they don’t care about their own lives.”

Threats.

While she thought Serpina was certainly the type of woman who could do such a thing… somehow, Anima couldn’t read what was going on in her mind.

Epinel seemed to feel the same way, as she shook her head and said offhandedly:

“Well, how would I know what’s going on in that woman’s head?”

Anima put her hand to her head and sighed deeply.

“Whoever it is, if someone put ideas into Yurie’s head—they deserve immediate execution.”

“…What?”

“The public opinion has turned in Serpina’s favor as if she and someone were in cahoots. If we had just kept quiet, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad… Think about it, Epinel. If the residents in our territory ask, ‘Why isn’t the Aeshus army running relief camps?’ what could we say?”

“That’s…”

“If nothing had been said, it might have been different, but given what’s already been said, how will the territory residents view our army if we don’t run camps? In the long run, losing the trust of the continent’s residents is the worst choice a lord can make. But pushing soldiers into what is essentially a death trap under the pretext of relief camps? It doesn’t take much thought to realize that would destroy the soldiers’ trust.”

Who had put such misguided ideas into Yurie’s head while she, the strategist, was absent?

There might be faces that come to mind… but it was difficult to pinpoint anyone specifically.

“So, who was it? Who brought this up?”

“…”

Epinel kept her head down in deep silence for a while.

Then, as if she had made up her mind… she answered in a very serious tone:

“…It was Yurie.”

“What…?”

“The person who planned to directly declare against Serpina’s army and corner her… was Yurie herself.”

…Thud.

Her arm, which had been tense, fell limply onto the bed sheet.

Her mind, which had just begun to warm up, started to cool rapidly again.

“Yurie… did that?”

“Yes…”

What overcame Anima after understanding the situation from Epinel’s story was a deep, sticky despair she had never felt before in any circumstance.

Not when she lost an arm, not when she was imprisoned and threatened by Serpina, not when she lost Erinandorf in battle, and not even when she just heard that Emma had died…

Anima lowered her head with her eyes tightly closed.

The strategist’s instinct was whispering fiercely to her.

So, she couldn’t help but notice.

From the point that the person who made a decision with no benefits was the monarch Yurie herself—

—the dawn of the Aeshus army had begun its march toward the final curtain.

* * *

Quite some time had passed since we started operating the camp.

Fortunately, Reika was able to cast buff spells on us periodically, and thanks to that, none of us had become infected with the plague.

Given the high likelihood that at least one person seeking aid carried the pathogen, it was fair to say that the magic was working properly.

A lot had happened during this time.

Crucially, the plague had entered a lull. The number of deaths had been reduced to a quarter, and confirmed infections had noticeably decreased.

The relief camp was becoming increasingly quiet. Even the plague that had seemed endless was finally heading toward its conclusion.

“We should be able to wrap up the camp soon.”

“I’m so glad nothing happened…”

“It’s all thanks to Reika.”

I said, patting Reika’s head.

Of course, this wasn’t just empty words. Without her, we couldn’t have boldly operated the relief camp.

If even one person on our side had fallen ill, it would have only reinforced the image of Serpina as a tyrant who forced soldiers into danger through coercion, rather than restoring her image.

And, as Reika said, that wasn’t the only fortunate thing.

The reputation of the Aeshus army, which had essentially targeted our forces, was plummeting.

They probably wanted to run relief camps like us.

Obviously, they didn’t have someone like Reika. That meant their soldiers would inevitably be exposed to the plague’s danger.

If even a few more soldiers contracted the plague, it would create its own problems, leaving them unable to act either way, which seemed to be shattering trust in her throughout the Central Continent.

A ruler who loses the hearts of their territory residents can never achieve great things.

If all this was a race toward the unified empire—she had fallen out of contention.

Meanwhile, rumors about Lady Serpina were flowing in the direction I had anticipated: “not good for the country, but good for Serpina personally.”

Beyond the relief camp itself, people seemed to be noticing the contradiction between “forcibly relocating territory residents” and “spreading the plague to kill territory residents” after we started operating the camp.

For her, who had been branded a tyrant, this was a historic moment—the first time she had garnered positive evaluation.

Serpina had said she didn’t need to gain anything from relocating the territory residents… but in the end, that action had helped her escape from absurd rumors.

‘Good. Going forward… actions that might not help the country but help her personally would be the way to go.’

Just then.

Ian entered the base camp where Reika and I were resting, with an urgent expression.

“Swen, there you are.”

“What’s the matter?”

Responding to his unusually urgent voice, I also tensed up and questioned him.

“Well, it might just be a rumor, but… I’ve heard something we can’t ignore.”

“Something we can’t ignore?”

Ian slowly nodded and said:

“News that a magician has appeared.”

“…What?”

“There’s a rumor that someone using magic has appeared in the Southern Continent.”

He was telling me something I had momentarily forgotten, but could never truly forget.