Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?! Volume 8 Read online

  And yet, he had allowed Mabel and the Viscount to be killed, with no proof with which to cast blame on Mabel’s husband, no matter how suspicious he might have been. Still, Juno was unable to step down from his post, thinking of what might happen should anyone ever try to lay a hand upon Adele, Mabel’s daughter. If she were ever in danger, he would protect her at all costs—even if it meant being branded a traitor and a lord-killer.

  He had allowed Adele to be taken away, once again unable to do a single thing.

  We can’t be certain that Lady Adele has perished. There’s a possibility that she lives on somewhere…

  He tried to reassure himself, but in truth, it was unfathomable. There was nowhere in this world where a defenseless twelve-year-old girl could live safely and happily all on her own.

  The last time that Juno had seen Adele in the flesh was back when her mother and grandfather were still in good health and the girl herself was around eight years old. Just like her mother Mabel, about whom the words “head” and “cloud,” were often uttered in close proximity to one another, Adele was a rather—no, incredibly—absentminded girl.

  Though he was the commander, Juno was still but a soldier, one who would never have much opportunity to speak with his employers’ young daughter. Indeed, even when he had the chance to converse with her mother and grandfather, that did not mean he exchanged words with Adele as well. At most, he was only ever able to glimpse her from afar.

  Juno recalled the day he had been taken into the viscount’s care—the day he had first met Mabel—like it was yesterday.

  “Juno. You have to grow up strong to protect my father, me, and all of the people of our lands, okay?”

  With a great nod, he had given his assent to the young girl’s words, but in the end, he had already failed to uphold two-thirds of that promise.

  Still, I will keep the other part of it, even if it costs me my life!

  There were 300 men in the Ascham forces. They were up against roughly 5,000 from the Empire.

  “Only 5,000? Let’s make ’em regret thinking that a little ragtag band like that is enough to take us on!”

  These final words were spoken not only in Juno’s head but uttered aloud. It was a commander’s duty to assure his troops that conditions were favorable and to instill a sense of confidence in them.

  Of course, practically speaking, there’s no way that we could possibly win while fighting them head-on, and the difference in our numbers is far too great to try and lay siege to them. Our only option is to launch a surprise attack on the enemy headquarters and crush them there…

  If they could take out the commander and other officers in one fell swoop, they might be able to make it work. If they killed the commander alone, one of his successors would just be promoted in his place. However, if they could destroy their entire leadership in one go, that would be a different story. If the enemies lost their ability to effectively mobilize their full forces, as well as anyone who possessed authority, they would have no choice but to withdraw at once. If that happened, then reinforcements were sure to arrive before a second wave of the invasion.

  Just as these thoughts passed through Juno’s mind…

  “We’re under attack!”

  The front lines were suddenly struck.

  “Damn!”

  Now that he thought about it, the idea that smashing the head of a snake would disable the rest of it applied to their side as well. Furthermore, their own leadership was far smaller than that of the enemy. If Juno, the commander, and Eden, his second, were both taken out, then that was it for them.

  There was no doubt that a head-to-head match would be certain victory for the imperial forces, and even if their side could somehow manage to hold up, it would be impossible for them to snatch a win without taking casualties en masse. Why did he assume that the idea of them leveraging their smaller number to launch a surprise attack on the enemy headquarters would never occur to the imperial officers? Why did he neglect the possibility of the superior side launching a surprise attack of their own?

  He had just been bitten in the behind by his own foolishness.

  The enemy forces executing this surprise attack seemed to be a handpicked, elite group of around twenty or thirty in number, though it was impossible to discern a precise number in the midst of the fray.

  “Calm down! There aren’t that many of them. We’ll just take them out one by—”

  Before Juno could even finish speaking, a sword swung toward him.

  “Guh!”

  He managed to block the blade with his own sword in the nick of time, but out of the corner of his eye, he spied another enemy drawing a bow. If he tried to avoid the arrow, he would leave himself open to be hacked down by the sword. However, if he continued moving to repel the blade, he was sure to be pierced by the arrow.

  “Damn it! This can’t end here! I made a promise—a promise to Lady…!”

  Whoosh!

  As the arrow flew, Juno prepared himself for death.

  Ker-smack!

  “Huh…?”

  Juno, the enemy swordsman, and the enemy archer all voiced their confusion in unison.

  “By the hand of justice, we lend you our aid!”

  Before them stood an elegant swordswoman with golden hair, who had just used her sword to strike down the swiftly flying arrow… A strange, peculiar figure, wearing a mask to hide her identity…

  Without a word, the two imperial soldiers turned on the swordswoman.

  “True Godspeed Blade!”

  In the blink of an eye, both of the men had been struck with the flat of her blade. (In cases like these, striking with the part of the sword that would not cut someone straight through granted quite a bit more leeway.)

  “Fireball!” A magical incantation rang out from the swordswoman’s side.

  No matter how skilled a fighter one was, an attack spell was no laughing matter. One could not fend off magic with a blade, after all.

  If one were a combat magic wielder, one could get work any place, any time. Yet of course, those who would willingly enter into military service—let alone place themselves on the perilous front lines—were few and far between. Apparently, the imperial forces were willing to make that sort of investment. One of the enemy fighters rallied his own spell, but just when it was about to hit…

  “Anti-Magic Blade!”

  Bwoosh!

  “Wha…?”

  Inconceivably, the swordswoman’s blade sliced the magical projectile clear in half. The attacking mage stood stock-still, unable to believe what he had just seen with his own two eyes. And then…

  “Wind Edge!”

  As the blade of wind went flying, the mage, with his inadequate armor, was struck down. Not only was the lady a top-notch swordswoman, but she was a combat magic wielder as well. How could such a person possibly exist?!

  “K-kill her! Kill her now!!!” shouted the man who appeared to be the captain of the surprise attackers, judging the swordswoman to be their greatest threat.

  Hearing this, the swordswoman coolly replied, “I shall never die! No matter how many times you fell me, I shall be restored and return to this battlefield. I will fight eternally to make my splendid dreams come true. For the sake of justice and the sake of my friends!”

  She held her sword high above her head and declared, “I am invincible! No matter how many times I fall, I shall be reborn. I am the ‘Reborn Knight’!”

  Seemingly out of thin air, three girls then appeared at the swordswoman’s side, giving their names in turn.

  “Hunting down my enemies with ferocious tenacity, reaping their souls, I am the fearsome slayer, ‘Magical Red’!”

  “Guiding those souls to Hell, I am the holy ‘Maiden of Darkness’!”

  “Wh—? Pau—er, didn’t we decide that your name was going to be, ‘The Buxom Huntress’?!” the silver-haired child interjected.

  “Y-you be quiet! Anyway, we aren’t supposed to be ‘hunters’ right now, are we?!” the bu
sty girl raged in reply.

  Finally, the silver-haired child introduced herself.

  “And I am she who quashes the superior side. They call me, ‘Superior Mask’!”

  The last time this particular character had made an appearance, her catchphrase was the complete opposite. Thankfully, the soldiers knew nothing of this. There was an entirely different question ringing through all of their minds:

  Why are they wearing those suspicious masks?!

  After the introductions were over, the four masked girls launched a high-speed assault. By spell and by blade, the imperial soldiers fell one after another. More importantly, the preceding hullabaloo had interrupted the flow of battle and granted the Ascham forces the chance to recover from the surprise attack, while the imperial troops were now, conversely, in splendid disarray. By numbers, the surprise attack force had no hope of winning—and almost immediately, the men lay prostrate on the ground.

  The men who had been felled by the mysterious reinforcements were not gravely injured, but, as one might expect, those who had faced the Ascham soldiers were all seriously wounded, or even dead. Given that they did not have much leeway in the situation and no clear upper hand in terms of strength, taking their enemies hostage in the heat of battle was simply not possible. Even if it had been a possibility, it was probably not something that any of the Ascham soldiers were particularly inclined to do.

  The enemies could plead all that they liked, but they would be shown no mercy. No soldier would ever be foolish enough to show kindness to an invader.

  After all of the imperial soldiers had been dealt with, their own casualties tended to, and the remaining enemies taken hostage and sent back to headquarters, Commander Juno turned to the girls who had come to their aid.

  “Wh-who are all of you…?”

  The one who replied was the girl who looked to be the oldest of the group—the one who had come to Juno’s defense.

  “We are the mercenary band, the Order of the Crimson Blood. We’ve accepted a job request from someone indebted to an associate of the house of Ascham and come from another land to offer our assistance.”

  “O-our deepest thanks…”

  Clearly, these were fighters who would not neglect to repay a favor that was done for them—and they were not afraid to leap into the fray of a battle that they had slim chance of winning. These were two things that deserved great gratitude…even if that name of theirs was a little bit peculiar.

  Juno had not gotten a good look at the other members of the group, but now, he inspected them. They were all quite young, perhaps even underage, and…

  “Wh…?”

  Juno’s body froze.

  Radiant, flowing silver locks. A visage that, even obscured by her mask, gave the impression of someone who was kindhearted, if a little bit absentminded. Just like she had been, the very first time he met her…

  The words spilled, unconsciously, from Juno’s mouth.

  “Lady…Mabel…?”

  Wasn’t that my mother’s name…? Hang on, this guy is probably the commander of the military, isn’t he? If I recall, the commander of our forces was…

  Recalling faces was a weakness of Mile’s. Other than that, her general powers of recollection were far superior to most. Thus, even though there was no way for her to recall Juno’s face—a face that she had seen but a handful of times from afar, many years ago—she would never forget the words that she heard so often in conversation with her mother and grandfather: “Juno, the commander of our military,” “Juno, whom my father rescued when I was twelve years old,” “Juno, who protects us and our people.”

  Remembering these conversations, Mile smiled gently and absently uttered a phrase—a phrase that her mother herself had said to this man on the day when they first met:

  “Juno, you must protect Ascham…”

  The four members of the Crimson Vow disappeared back into the trees, leaving behind the man, whose face was now soaked with tears. There was a sound—perhaps a wail of anguish or a roar of delight. It resounded all throughout the woodlands where the Ascham troops had made camp.

  Henceforth, there was one truth that the soldiers of Ascham came to know: a human can become a god of vengeance while he still lives and breathes. This was not a myth, but reality.

  “Mile,” asked Mavis sometime after, “was that man back there an acquaintance of yours?”

  “Yes, though only by name. I think he was the commander of the Ascham military,” Mile replied.

  “So what the heck was that scream we heard right after we left him?” Reina asked suspiciously.

  “Who knows? I think my mother was around the same age that I am now when she first met him. It sort of seemed like he’d mistaken me for her, and I guess I said something that she said to him back then. So he might have been remembering…”

  “You’re a monster!!!” the other three screamed.

  “Huh?”

  ***

  “Damn it! What are they doing out there?!” the colonel of the imperial forces shouted at his staff within the temporary walls of their grassland headquarters.

  “Maybe they encountered some difficulties in locating the enemy?”

  Even if their sneak attack had failed, it was most unlikely that every single one of the imperial soldiers sent out had been killed. If they made their retreat the moment that they realized failure was inevitable, then at least some of them should have been able to return to give a report. The fact that none of them had reappeared must have meant that they still had yet to actually encounter the enemy.

  “I suppose we’ll have to wait just a little while longer…” said the colonel with a shrug.

  Just then, a single soldier came running towards him.

  “I have a message! The supply convoy that was scheduled to arrive tonight came under attack! The units escorting the convoy only sustained minor injuries, but all of the goods have been destroyed!”

  “What?!”

  They were on the front lines and had just suffered a blow to their supply line. That was a huge problem…or would have been, for any lesser army. For superior forces like theirs, such a setback was a trifle. Even if they lost out on some of their supplies, their food and drink stores remained undiminished, and in a war that was being fought largely with swords and spears, there was no worry of dealing with insufficient shells or ammunition. At most, they might have to scrimp a bit on arrows, but with numbers like theirs, this was of little concern.

  The convoy that had traveled out with them at the start had carried more than enough supplies to begin with, leaving them with adequate surplus so that they would have no trouble waiting until the next convoy could arrive. Even if they did begin to run low, they could simply raid the lands that they were occupying—or just have the soldiers tough out the shortages for a bit.

  Why then had the colonel let out such a cry?

  “How the hell did the enemy get behind us?! Or was this an attack from the people of the occupied lands?!”

  Surely enough, the matter of the shifting battle lines was what had given the man pause.

  “It could be either one… That said, it’s not as though they actually attacked our main forces from the rear. They’re probably just hurting for food and decided to brave the danger to try and pillage our supplies… If that’s the case, and it was the Ascham forces, it should be easy enough to run them down. The fact that they would bother to get behind us, only to prioritize stealing our supplies over staging an actual attack means that they must be in pretty bad shape. Dwindling supplies mean that morale is low, and they won’t have much longer in them! I bet we can just wait for the next supply convoy and then push right on through the fief.”

  “Hmm. I suppose that might be so…”

  The officer’s words cheered the colonel somewhat.

  Neither the officer nor the colonel were idiots. They had had a plan for supplying their troops from the start—not even as a last-ditch effort. In truth, their recognition of the importance
of logistics in warfare was relatively modern, even by Earth’s standards.

  As recently as World War II, there were many who would insist that procuring supplies locally was sufficient. Around the time of the Russo-Japanese War, military supply personnel were often belittled, with such popular sayings as, “If a wagon driver can be a soldier, then butterflies and dragonflies may as well be birds,” and this attitude persisted even into World War II.

  In this world, where most commanders were utterly unconcerned with whether their low-ranking subordinates even had enough to eat, there were very few who understood the necessity of maintaining weaponry or supplying ammunition. As a result, the commanders who focused on supply lines were relatively few. These men had kept some supplies in reserve, so a bit of a delay in resupply was not a problem.

  ***

  A few days later, they still had not seen either hide nor hair of the surprise attack squadron, and the scouts who had gone to look for them had yet to return. The colonel was growing peevish when he received another report.

  “The supply convoy was attacked! All the goods were destroyed!”

  “Again?! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

  It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  They had carried quite a lot of food with them at the outset, and they had yet to exhaust their supplies of arrows or medicine in the course of battle. Technically, even if they experienced a bit of a delay in receiving their supplies, they had more than enough to mobilize. That said, if they were to attempt a proper invasion of the Ascham lands now, there was a possibility that they would begin hurting for supplies. What would hurt the most, however, was their comfort: the ale, high-quality foods, and other fresh items that the officers had reserved for themselves had already begun to bottom out.

  “What are those convoy guards doing?! Send out some of our men and capture whoever is attacking—”

  “A new report, sir! The supply stores of the 2nd and 3rd battalions have been destroyed! The 4th and 5th battalions have lost roughly half of their stockpiles as well!”