Daybreak:Volume 2 Chapter 8: Difference between revisions

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===Chapter 8 - Baptized in Fire===
===Chapter 8 - Logistical Wizardry===


"<u>PASCAL!</u>"
Kaede followed Rachel as the elderly head maid led her down the hallway early next morning. Her breathing was still irregular after Rachel tightened her corset to the most restrictive it's ever been. The reason for that became apparent when Rachel told her that she'd been summoned by the Princess.


The frantic shout resounded within the confines of his empty mind. He didn't recognize it, but he felt the desperation -- an utmost need from someone he instinctively knew and held dear.
Her anxiety hadn't helped in regaining her breath, nor the new footwear that Sylviane provided which forced her to walk with care.


Pascal stirred with a splitting headache and a steady, continuous ringing in his ears. His eyes opened to the blurry sight of a mostly-collapsed room, and he tried to wipe away the tears still clouding his vision...
''Does Vivienne even have the same shoe size as me?'' Kaede wondered as she focused on taking each careful step.


"Gahhh!"
Her new shoes had a soft lavender hue with floral laced ankle straps. However their cute appearance was just a devious ruse to hide how they tortured her poor feet. Kaede would definitely classify them as 'high heels', as they forced most of her body mass onto the balls of her small feet. Combined with the corset and the heavy, layered dress, the outfit really forced Kaede to concentrate on walking to not lose her balance.


Hot pain shot up his shoulders when his right arm attempted to move. His breath quickened to a labored pant as his left hand reflexively reached up towards the injury. It came across a chilled iron shaft. A ballista bolt the size of a javelin had apparently pierced through his right shoulder and anchored him into the ground.
Thankfully, it didn't take long before Rachel reached their destination. The head maid turned to one of many closed doors in the hallway and knocked twice.


Perhaps even worse, Pascal couldn't hear his own painful cry. Outside the ringing in his ears, everything else in the world was a deathly silence.
"Your Highness. I've brought her."


Gritting his teeth against the pain, he reached his fingers around the pole before muttering "''Disintegrate''". The javelin handle instantly vanished into specks of dust, leaving only a bleeding hole the width of two fingers.
"Come in, Rachel."


His arm moved this time, painfully. It jerked upwards briefly before flopping back down, neither of which were intended.
The elderly maid opened the door before ushering Kaede though. Inside was a modestly sized office room, dominated by a large table and an assortment of armchairs on both sides. Princess Sylviane sat on the far side of the desk, beneath a huge window where the sun could be seen just climbing above the horizon. The only other occupant was her bodyguard Mari who stood two steps to her side.


That was bad news, really bad. The hit must have shattered his right shoulder joint. He would need a real healer to fix that, which meant no curative spells until then.
Kaede had learned from Rachel that in addition to being an armiger and bodyguard, Mari also served as a lady's maid to the Princess. This meant that apart from her martial duties, Mari also helped Sylviane dress and kept track of the Princess' wardrobe. Curiously, this meant Mari had to answer to Rachel as a superior, despite the fact that armigers were knighted and Rachel did not hold any title of nobility.


"''Blood Stasis.''"
''Clearly, even with the feudalism of Rhin-Lotharingie, the social ladder isn't entirely dependent on birth.''


Suspending the blood flow to his right arm wasn't much better, but it bought him at least some time. Healing magic could always restore dying cells deprived of oxygen, as long as he didn't bleed out first.
"Good morning, Rachel, Kaede," Sylviane greeted the two of them with a warm smile.


A quick check proved that his ears were indeed bleeding, probably ruptured from the sonic blast that came with the rune-inscribed boulders. Rummaging through an extra-dimensional belt pouch, Pascal soon pulled out a set of ''Metabolic Restoration'' runes and glued them to his ears with a sticking spell. These two spellwords formed most powerful healing spell he knew, capable of automatically repairing any tissue or organ that hadn't been ripped asunder.
"Good morning, Your Highness," Kaede wobbled on her heels as she followed Rachel's lead and curtsied to the Princess.


He then pushed himself back to sitting upright, finally clearing his eyes for a situational assessment of the disaster:
"I don't have any other request, Rachel. So if you're busy, don't let me keep you," Sylviane added.


The former command center was a bunker of welded steel construction. But right now an entire facing of the ceiling and walls -- what remained of them anyway -- had buckled inwards. The first wave of runestone-tipped ballista bolts had destroyed wards and steel alike with a combination of ''Dispels'' and ''Disintegrates'', leaving gaping holes and severed support beams. The catapult rocks that followed then turned the HQ into a death trap of flying shrapnel.
"Of course, Your Highness." The elderly woman replied before she curtsied again and left the room.


Three of the officers had been cut beyond recognition by jagged rock fragments. Two more died with chests nailed into the ground by bolts. Commanding officer Colonel von Konopacki lay among the dead, his eyes unmoving and hollow after a steel girder severed by ''Disintegration'' rammed through his torso.
Kaede could feel her heart beat faster as she heard the door close behind her. Being alone with the envious princess made her worry and unlike last time, Pascal wasn't in the room to offer his support.


The only reason Pascal survived was because most of his defensive wards were active. It hadn't been that long since his last trip to the frontline trenches to observe. Although the sheer amount of damage had eaten through several spells, leaving his clothes tattered and bloody from shallow cuts.
"I hope you've been doing well these past two days, Kaede," the Princess began. "I heard from Rachel that you've been reading."


Nevertheless, he needed to get out of there. The defenders could be preparing another barrage this very second.
"Yes, milady," Kaede opted for the more informal address now that the head maid was no longer present. ''I've been doing nothing but reading.'' She then added dejectedly in her own thoughts.


Pascal stood up to a half-crouch and began making his way through the rubble and wreckage. He soon found himself face-to-face with a medic -- a commoner girl who braved the danger to wrap blood-stopping bandages around the leg stump of a signal lieutenant.
It wasn't that she hated being buried in books. But even Kaede would like the occasional variety in her day, or to see a friendly face a few times. Rachel was nice but the elderly matron kept a strict, professional distance between them. Meanwhile all the other servants either disliked her presence or took an interest in her for all the wrong reasons.


Her lips parted to call out, but he heard only silence.
"I'm also glad you did everything I asked without complaint, just as you had promised." Sylviane added with an approving smile, much like how a boss might praise their subordinate's performance.


"We need to get him out of here!" Pascal spoke back, ears still unable to confirm his own words.
"Yes, milady." Kaede merely repeated.


But it must have been right. The medic nodded, and each of them took an arm of the half-conscious, clearly-sedated officer. Pushing aside fallen beams, they made their way out and into the nearest communication trench.
"Kaede, I know you're intelligent and learned," the Princess continued. "Furthermore, it has come to my attention that your knowledge stretches across a breadth of topics. The conflict in the south has left my country shorthanded for many tasks. Therefore I thought I'd ask -- how would you like to help out with the war effort?"


Meanwhile, Pascal tapped the sensory link to Kaede for a front line update with his own eyes. He faintly remembered her reporting something just before he was knocked out. The connection then opened in the middle of a spell-bolt barrage, with blasted snow and expanding fireballs everywhere in sight. Beyond that were the quadbow skiers that initiated any housecarl attack, although a sparse line of siphoneers soon overtook them.
Kaede blinked. "Uhhh... yes, Milady?"


Oddly enough, while Pascal couldn't hear a thing himself, he registered every thunder and explosion that Kaede heard.
Sylviane smiled in amusement at the familiar girl's surprise. Meanwhile the latter thought: ''I certainly didn't expect this.''


''Situation critical. Right flank under massive assault,'' he concluded.  
Given the Princess' demands during the previous two days, Kaede had resigned herself to be sidelined and kept away from Pascal for much longer. Yet here was an opportunity staring at her in the face: the chance that she'd been waiting for to prove to Sylviane that she was worth keeping around, and not merely as an 'unwanted attachment' to Pascal.


The presence of elite siphoneers always raised a warning flag. Packed with firepower, those flamethrower troops could afford to attack in a dispersed, agile formation, which made them far harder to hit. The defenders had no choice but to stop the deadly siphons. But in doing so, they lost their best chance to deliver volley fire against the massed charge that followed behind.
"I-I'd, I would ''very much'' like the opportunity to help out in a meaningful way, milady!" Kaede rushed to add, this time with more enthusiasm.


Pascal shrunk the vision overlay into the upper-right corner of his own sight. Another signal lieutenant sat further down the trench, miraculously uninjured except for a dozen bleeding scratches. Two medics soon rushed past that man, one carrying a small lemur on his shoulders.
"Excellent!" Sylviane cheerily replied. "I'd like you to help Pascal with a task I'm about to assign him. In exchange, I'll have a room set up for you in the guest wing, just down the hall from his. I'd also like you to start joining us at meals. I heard you haven't been exactly fitting in with the other servants."


"Where's your healer?" Pascal barked as he helped lay down the crippled officer. Then, raising his left hand to tap the glowing rock stuck to his ear: "Get me your healer now! I have a battle to coordinate!"
''<nowiki>'</nowiki>Other servants<nowiki>'</nowiki>,'' Kaede did not miss the phrase. It was a reminder that while the Princess was offering her a significant upgrade in amenities, she was still seen only as Pascal's servant.


Due to their persistent shortage, most medical squads had only one healer, plus maybe a trainee or two. The rest were just medics -- commoners trained to treat injuries but couldn't actually cast spells.
The Samaran girl almost sighed before she caught herself. ''Still, this is quite an improvement after a mere three days. One step at a time.''


To his momentary surprise, it was the lemur who responded. The furry little primate jumped onto Pascal's left shoulder and pulled the rocks off with magical ease. Then, after loosely wrapping its legs around his neck to leverage against his chest, it inserted one tiny finger into each ear canal.
"Thank you very much, milady," she bowed with a mostly-genuine smile. "I'll do my best!"


''A healer's familiar...''
Sylviane beamed as she tilted her head and cupped her cheek with a raised palm. She looked upon the smaller girl as though admiring a work of art.


Wherever its master was, he or she was clearly using the familiar as a proxy to channel spells. The carefully-controlled, focused ''Restoration'' spell proved exponentially more effective than his own. Within moments, Pascal was beginning to hear for himself again. The voices were still muffled and fuzzy, but it was enough for him to communicate properly.
"You really are Pascal's familiar." The Princess mused before she stood up and walked around the desk. Her hands gently grasped Kaede by the shoulders, where only fine, translucent chiffon-lace separated her fingers from Kaede's skin. "Let me see how you look."


He grabbed one of the medics right away. They might have a life on their hands, but he had hundreds to worry about:
Guided by the Princess' hands, Kaede slowly turned in place. Sylviane would adjust her dress here and there, smoothing out fabric and fixing ribbons before standing back to examine the younger girl's appearance. By the time Kaede had her back turned to the Princess, she felt Sylviane was doing something to the knot of laces behind her corset.


"Run over to the Kostradan Reiters and tell Captain von Gottschall that he is to ''personally'' pull two platoons plus recon to reinforce the far right! Colonel's orders!"
"Milady?" Kaede worried. ''I really can't take any more squeezing at my waist!''


Pascal never even hesitated to lie about it. If news went out that Colonel von Konopacki had been killed, command of the detachment would pass to Major Bergfalk's seniority. The yeoman officer was competent enough, but he was also a traditional cavalry leader, and there was nothing conventional about the situation right now. Furthermore, Major Bergfalk was stationed on the far left of the siege line, with the least idea of what was happening on the far right.
"Just tightening the knot," Sylviane noted in a humored voice as she clearly heard the fear in the younger girl's tone. "We wouldn't want it to loosen during your day, would we?"


"Sir I'm just a medic..."
Kaede groaned. That was exactly what she was hoping for.


"You see anyone better around!? Now off to it or we will all be a head shorter by sunset!"
The Princess was still working her fingers when a knock came from outside. Before she could even answer, the door opened and Pascal walked into the room. His eyebrows rose swiftly in surprise as he saw the two. His expression still held the lingering traces of an annoyed mood, but they faded quickly as he observed the seeming closeness between Kaede and Sylviane.


The tall and lanky medic's eyes grew wide as saucers when he finally realized the severity of the situation. He then spun around and dashed off without another word.
"Did I miss something?"


"Lieutenant!" Pascal rushed over to the barely-injured one, although the young man's emerald eyes were still shaking -- a clear sign of lingering shock from the barrage that had nearly taken their lives.
"Oh nothing, just admiring how huggable she is in this dress." Sylviane smiled towards her fiancé before embracing the smaller girl's shoulders. "Don't you agree?"


"Lieutenant, do you hear me!? Is your ''Farspeak'' link with Major Bergfalk's 1st Nordkreuz cavalry still active!?"
"Kaede is cute no matter what she wears." Pascal replied with a chuckle. "But I am glad to see you two getting along."


The blond young man nodded back slowly, still half-dazed.
"Oh come on, what do you think?" The Princess then insisted on his opinion. "Doesn't this dress fit her much better than it does Vivi?"


Pascal slapped the lieutenant without a moment's hesitance. He instinctively tried to move his right arm first, and bit down in pain as the injured limb jerked uselessly. His left palm went next, straight across the cheek. Even Kaede, a complete civilian by all measures, had joined the front lines to repel a siphoneer charge. There was no excuse for such disgrace as an officer of Weichsel.
The Princess pulled back slightly to offer him a better look. However she kept her hands on Kaede's almost-bare shoulders.


"PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, Lieutenant!" he shouted in the signal officer's face. "I need an order passed to Bergfalk and I needed it done two minutes ago!"
This time, Pascal examined his familiar with a careful gaze before he smiled and nodded:


It took another moment before the blond lieutenant finally began to snap out of it.
"I agree. Vivi's silvery hair is colder, and her eyes can be a bit too intense for the soft lavender hue. Kaede's snowy-white hair and her soft pink eyes are just perfect to accompany this dress. And I am not surprised that it fits her perfectly, though... it feels she is, a bit taller?"


"Ye-y-yes Sir?"
"I gave her a taller pair of heels. She's easier to hug this way." Sylviane said as though 'huggability' was one of the most important attributes for any girl.


[[Image:Daybreak_v2_ch8_Nordkapp1.png|thumb|Battle of Nordkapp: Pascal redeploys to Vagnsson's attack|right]]
"Ah. I like it."


"Order Major Bergfalk to get his entire company mounted!" Pascal demanded sternly, locking eyes while his left hand firmly grasped his junior's shoulder. "Enemy relief battalion is assaulting our right flank. I need him to ride around our rear and smash into those attackers!"
"<You two are both terrible,>" Kaede complained to Pascal, which only made his lips open in a silent laugh.


The signal officer concentrated to pass the message. Then:
"<What can I say? I do not regret summoning you in that form at all when I see you like this.>"


"M-Major Bergfalk acknowledges. He requests the status of HQ command."
His smug reply only made the Samaran girl pout. "<nowiki><I</nowiki> hate you.>"


"Tell him those are the Colonel's orders! And do not bother trying to circle around the enemy for a full outflank. Our far right cannot hold for long -- he is to plow straight into the enemy's wing at first opportunity!"
Pascal chuckled to himself for another moment before he looked up to meet Sylviane's gaze. "Sylv I do believe you asked me here for a serious matter. Not that I do not enjoy seeing this, but you know our rules."


The Lieutenant then glanced towards the destroyed command center, clearly doubting Pascal's words as orders from the Colonel.
"Yes. ''Official business first.''" The Princess pulled away reluctantly before she walked back around the office table. She then placed her hand upon a large stack of papers and parchment and began:


"Listen. We ''cannot afford'' for the situation to devolve any further Lieutenant," Pascal declared with every ounce of severity he could muster. "I have the best grasp of the overall battle, so if you want to stay alive until tonight ''you will do as I say''! I swear to the Holy Father that I will take full responsibility!"
"This is all the information that we had received from those requesting pay and provisions. All the accounting work has already been done and documented. And this," her hand went to an even bigger stack, "is what we've found out over the past few days on available foodstuffs, coin, winter clothing, and other spare equipment, as well as the transport facilities between their stockpiles and the front lines."


Reply came back in the form of a slow, hesitant nod, but a nod nevertheless. The Lieutenant soon crossed his eyes again in concentration.
Sylviane then smiled as she met Pascal's expectant eyes. "I want you to take charge of arranging for collection and transportation, to have all the necessary pay and supplies gathered and brought to the front-line troops that need them."


...Just as distant, groaning sounds could be heard coming from the Nordkapp gatehouse, followed immediately by the echoing roar of hundreds.
For a long second, Pascal merely stared back as though he was dumbfounded.


In the current situation, this could only mean one thing: the garrison was sallying out to attack. Given the timing of the headquarters strike and arrival of reinforcements, they must have assembled and prepared for it in advance.
"You mean it?"


Pascal quickly sorted that into a lower priority. Against the hostile force flanking their line, an attack from the city itself was minor by comparison. Their sally would be bottlenecked by both the gate and the fieldworks outside, plus they faced well-fortified positions held by Captain Horn's Nordkreuz Reiters and one platoon left behind by von Gottschall.
"Of course." Sylviane beamed. "Isn't this what you asked for?"


Perhaps he would even call this an opportunity... assuming he had the resources to deal with it.
"Yes, yes!" Pascal's voice was ecstatic while he looked back with bright eyes. "I just did not expect that... you would..."


A glance through Kaede's sight warned that the oncoming charge was rapidly approaching their right wing defense line.
"I realized last night that I made a mistake." Sylviane returned an apologetic smile. "I should have given this task to you from the beginning. Logistics is part of the training and experience for any military commander. And I have too much on my plate to not make use of your expertise."


Pascal shut his eyes, hating himself for what he was about to do. It was a dangerous gamble, but he couldn't see any other choice. This entire detachment numbered over five hundred soldiers. Since he was now in command, he had no right ''not'' to risk everything he had for the sake of their safety. Everything, including the life of his own familiar -- Kaede herself.
''Amateurs discuss tactics, professionals study logistics.'' Kaede thought with a smile as she remembered Napoleon's famous quote. For Pascal who wanted professional experience above all else, this was a true opportunity to prove himself.


It was his obligation as a commander.
"Though this is a task for more than just two pairs of eyes." Pascal noted. "I will require..."


He gritted his teeth and sent what was akin to a death warrant:
"I have already asked the palace clerks to place themselves under your command as needed." Sylviane spoke as she clearly anticipated his request. "I am also assigning you a squad of the Highland Guard, should you require a bit of authority on errands. This is a task of the highest priority."


"<u>Order von Lichnowsky to hold ''at all costs''! Do you hear me, Kaede? Fight to the last! If she crumbles this entire army will be annihilated!</u>"
Kaede remembered reading that the Highland Guard was a battalion dedicated to the royal family's protection. They were handpicked by the King of Gleann Mòr -- which really showed just how strong the ties were between the Emperor's Gaetane dynasty and King Alistair's House Mackay-Martel.


He could feel her rising despair -- even denial -- as he uttered those callous words.
"You will not regret this," Pascal declared as gratitude and fresh determination lit his turquoise gaze.


"''Mental Clarity Surge''"
"I know I won't," Sylviane replied, beaming. "You've never let me down, Pascal. I'm just... not the best at delegating," the Princess added rather sheepishly.


Ether coursed into his left palm before he shut it with a squeeze, sending the magic through the familiar link and to Kaede. As a ''Surge'' spell which maximized strength at the cost of duration, ''Mental Clarity'' effectively became an emotional whiteout. Pascal had faith in Kaede's resourcefulness and insight, but the girl was still too green. She worried too much, and he needed her in action ''now''.
"We are all still learning," Pascal grinned back. His approval made the Princess look away slightly as a blush overcame her cheeks.


He could only hope that reinforcements would get there before her position was overrun.
''I'm not sure just who is in charge of whom here,'' Kaede mused.


"Captain von Moltewitz!"
Sure, Sylviane was undoubtedly higher on the aristocratic pecking order. However, Pascal was the one who extruded the confidence and assurance that the Princess clearly sought.


Pascal hardly even noticed as the lemur leaped off his back. His ears weren't back to full capacity yet, but they would suffice for now. The healer -- still not here in person -- clearly decided the other Lieutenant's severed leg was more important.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Sylviane appended. "This office is now yours to use whenever you're at the palace. I figured between my office and the guest wing is a good place."


He focused on Kaede's senses just long enough to verify that Captain von Lichnowsky accepted her duty, before turning to face his visitor:
"I appreciate it," Pascal nodded back.


"Lieutenant."
"I have to leave the palace today to help with recruitment in the surrounding regions," Sylviane announced next. "I doubt I'll be back before late tomorrow night at the earliest. So how about we grab breakfast together?"


"Captain Horn sent me to check on headquarters, Sir!"
"All three of us?" Pascal hoped as he glanced towards Kaede.


"Command is intact, but we have lost too much communications," Pascal replied solemnly, not even considering it a lie anymore. "Tell your Captain to hold back the sallying force. Keep them bottled up, then launch a creeping barrage into their gate and down their main street with firemist combination spells. Those are not assault troops pouring through. Those are meat fodder assembled to offer us an opportunity to crush the garrison!"
"Yes." The Princess answered without any reservation.


"Yes Sir!" the junior officer saluted with an inspired, predatory grin before running off.
It brought another true smile to Pascal's countenance.


''If that cocky bastard thinks destroying my HQ is going to ruin us for easy picking, then he is in for a painful lesson,'' Pascal thought.
"I would like that very much."
 
The frontal clash would be his win, he was sure of it. But the battle itself would be decided where Kaede stood. This meant everything depended on whether Captain von Lichnowsky could hold long enough for von Gottschall's mages and Bergfalk's cavalry to arrive. Then after that -- whether their combined strength could fight off greater numbers until outside reinforcements came.
 
"''Aura Burst''."
 
Leaning heavily against the packed-snow trench wall, Pascal switched his casting mode to that of the fastest spell acceleration. Perhaps the numbness of overwhelmed conduit nerves could actually lessen the pain that still plagued his disabled right shoulder.
 
"''Farspeak, initiate...'' He muttered, beginning the minute-long process of opening a stable communication link. His masculine ego might not want to admit it, but he was in desperate need for his gallant princess to come save his first command.
 
"''To: Sylviane Etiennette de Gaetane.''"




Line 163: Line 153:




Sylviane was hovering in midair as she surveyed what had been a battlefield mere minutes ago.
"I've finished organizing the supply manifests," Kaede stated as she carried a stack of papers back into the office.
 
The Knights Phantom were still disarming those who surrendered, with charred corpses littering the muddy slopes. After two volleys of expanding-barrel grenades and one scorching charge by Oriflamme and Phantoms alike, the entire hill lay drenched in melted snow... and now, blood.
 
The need to interdict and destroy two separate relief columns had made General von Manteuffel split his forces further. As the faster group, Sylviane led the two Knight Phantom companies -- ''Black Lancers'' and ''Phantom Gale'' -- over to the farther intercept. The six-hundred-plus defenders outnumbered her two-to-one, but her forces' superior training and equipment easily tipped the scales.
 
Nevertheless, the Northmen had been prepared this time. Their warriors fought on like madmen, especially the housecarls who refused to break even after one hundred and seventy armored gryphons smashed into their battered line. Several dozen knights fell in the ensuing melee, and while their numbers seemed few against the Northmen losses, these were elites with years if not decades of training whom Weichsel would struggle to replace.
 
Sylviane sighed through a deep exhale, although her solemn expression never faltered.
 
''I lead a charge in too early... didn't I?''


She wasn't sure.
Pascal had requested her to work through all the accounts of food and provisions based on their location of storage. They'd been separated into four groups, depending on which of the four main transit arteries --two highways plus the North and South Lotharingie rivers-- would be best suited to transport the supplies. The categorized lists were then arranged based on how far they were from the front lines. In addition, information such as the amount of time it would take from each location to reach the main artery or the next supply depot had to be appended for ease of scheduling calculations in the next step.


''But the Colonel agreed with the timing... or was he just going along?''
Even with several clerks assigned to assist her, it had taken Kaede many hours of comparing location names against maps, tracing local roads, and measuring the distances involved. By the time she was finished, night had already fallen and her stomach was sporadically growling.


She was never sure.
She hadn't had a proper meal since breakfast. Lunch had been a mere handful of sandwiches delivered from the kitchens.


Royalty must always be assured, ''confident'' -- not a week had gone by during childhood when she wasn't reminded of that. Her father Geoffroi and her fiancé Pascal were both such pillars of dignity and decisiveness, convinced of their divine destiny to rule and lead. They were true paragons of authority, born to their stations without a trace of falsehood.
''Plus my feet are killing me from standing in these heels all day!'' Kaede complained bitterly. ''Pascal, you're a slavedriver.''


...And she admired them every bit as much as she envied them.
Kaede looked out the windows and reflected on just how late it was. The sun's rays had long vanished beyond the horizon. Only the glow of lamps and the light from the indigo gas giant remained.


Sylviane had acquired that royal authority for herself over the years. Her serene composure, her regal demeanor -- they imposed her will upon others with but a sweeping glance. What charisma she lacked in aura and presence, she would make up through incisive words and intrepid actions. She had learned to inspire and convince, just as her role demanded her to.
Though to be fair, Pascal hadn't taken any more breaks than she had over the past fourteen hours, which was zero. Nor did either of the two clerks trapped in this room, who now looked towards her with hopeful pleas in their tired gazes.


But it wasn't the same. It was just an act.
''I'm not even eighteen yet and I'm already working the hours of a Japanese salaryman,'' Kaede complained in her thoughts. ''Give me back my final year of childhood!''


One stumble against a hurdle and everything would come crashing down. She would then second-guess herself at every opportunity: ''Did I make a wrong decision? Do others agree with my approach?''
The young lord glanced up from his writing desk as he finished adding some notes to the corner of a parchment scroll.


Yet even as she looked upon others for counsel and approval, only advisors with the truest integrity would voice their honest thoughts. After all, she was royalty -- someone far easier to flatter and praise than to correct.
"Good work. I am almost finished assessing all the supply requests and transit points. Just give me another..."


Acclaims must be doubted, while criticisms embraced and examined. Such was the life of a wise ruler, or in her case -- crown heir.
As if on cue, Kaede's stomach growled audibly in protest. The young girl covered her midriff with her hand as she looked a bit sheepish.


It wasn't fair. She was supposed to be the ''third'' child. The Holy Father had given her two older brothers, both far more qualified than she could ever be. She would gladly be the charitable patron of music and education after two ideal princes, never forced to wear a mantle of such burden and responsibility.
"How much did you have for lunch?" Pascal's brows rose.


But one fateful encounter with Imperial assassins had changed all that.
"Just one sandwich," Kaede commented, before her wispy voice fell to barely more than a whisper: "a small one."


Deep in thought, Sylviane hadn't noticed the pinging sensation in the back of her head -- the incoming knock of a ''Farspeak'' spell.
"You should have eaten more." He replied unsympathetically.


No communication sorcery could breach a mage's mental sanctum deep enough to guarantee attention. Otherwise, they would be intrusive magic capable of offensive means, and thus repelled by domestic ether with ever greater force.
"It's hard to with this." Her hand stroked the corset that mercilessly squeezed her tiny waist.


By the time she finally grew aware, a precious minute had passed.
Kaede had tried to loosen the laces at lunch. However the knot behind her was so tight she doubted she could undo it without help.


''Why is Pascal himself contacting me?''
Her comment made Pascal sigh as he took a small piece of paper and hovered it over the spot where he wrote on the scroll. His turquoise ring glowed with mana as he magically copied the contents to the small leaflet. He then placed the scroll in one of seven, organized stacks. There was still a small pile remaining, perhaps one-tenth of what he had already completed.


Armies had signal officers for a reason: so commanders could focus on tactics and leadership rather than spending their time relaying orders.
"I guess I could finish this later," he took a moment to convince himself before standing up and dismissed his aides with a nod. "You two are free to go. Free feel to grab some food from the kitchen staff. I told them to make extra tonight."


"<u>What is it?</u>" she asked after mentally accepting the link with a visualized handshake.
"Thank you, Your Grace," the two young men took a quick bow before rushing out. It was as though they feared that Pascal might change his mind.


"<u>We are under attack by Skagen reinforcements. Entire force on brink of annihilation. I need help ''immediately''!</u>"
The sight of their hasty retreat only made Kaede shake her head. "Have you ever heard of 'working hours'?"


Despite its content, there was no panic in Pascal's tone. But Sylviane didn't doubt it for a second -- she had never heard such urgency stressed in his usual steady if not drawling speech.
"Working hours last until work is done for the day." Pascal answered without any room for negotiation.


"Regroup!" She called to her armigers. Then: "<u>I'm on my way. But how could this happen? We've intercepted both major relief columns, and the smaller ones are still farther out</u>"
Kaede sighed. ''Bosses like you are the reason why countries have labor laws.''


"<u>Well three was clearly the magic number. Look to my right flank. Pascal out!</u>"
"We need to finish all of this today so we can focus on drawing up the transit schedules tomorrow." Pascal then added. "That is enough of a monster to engage by itself, even with ''Systematize'' sorting spells to help. Therefore all necessary information must be compiled beforehand."


''Did our scout coverage fail? Or...'' Sylviane felt a shiver run down her spine. ''Did von Manteuffel intentionally ignore reports of a third force?''
"Sorting spells?" Kaede's eyebrows shot up. "If you have magical sorting then why did you need me to go through that list by hand?"


She could only suspect. Based on Pascal's knowledge, the General was certainly ambitious and ruthless enough to sacrifice a detachment of hundreds just to eliminate a future rival. But while von Manteuffel was no lover of Rhin-Lotharingie, he was a pragmatist who recognized the need to counterbalance the Imperium.
"Magic is not that smart," Pascal retorted as though it should be obvious. "I can feed the spell a list of numbers, or names, or even pairs of coordinates. However it does not know how to account for cliffs and rivers, and certainly not meandering roads."


''Would he really do it at such a critical time?''
''So basically you have Microsoft Excel but not Google Maps,'' Kaede thought. "Can ''Systematize'' be combined with a cartography spell? Or is that too complicated?"


"Your Highness?"
"Cartography magic is tremendously expensive due to the huge areas it must cover," Pascal explained. "It would be different if someone crafted a to-scale magical map and then..." Pascal's words slowed as he took on a pensive look, "linked to it with a specialized processing spell that adjusted for scale..."


Like always, Sir Robert de Dunois was the first to arrive. Mari didn't count; she was the Lady's Maid to the Princess. But the handsome young man with boyishly cute face was definitely a model of eagerness and optimism. He was a tad short for a Lotharin male, but his figure was lean and athletic, his eyes a vivid green, and the chocolate-brown hair framing smooth cheeks was just elegant enough without being too feminine. In Sylviane's opinion, he was the epitome of a polite and caring knight, always ready to shine a sunlit smile on her day.
Kaede grinned as her master had clearly caught onto an idea.


He also hovered in midair a good thirty paces off the ground. ''Levitation Flight'' spells were mediocre in complexity, but they were particularly hard to control and master. As the human mind was naturally wired for two-dimensional motion, few people ever picked up the affinity for aerial combat maneuvers. The Oriflamme Paladins might have their phoenix familiars to help coordinate, but their armigers had to learn it the hard way.
"That could potentially work." Pascal stared knowingly at her before he frowned. "Though I would have to create several new spells first. Not a solution to the immediate problem at hand."


"I need rapid teleportation to outside the gates of Nordkapp, just beyond the wards and chained as quickly as you can manage!" Sylviane ordered, fully aware that Pascal's life was now at stake.
''Shame,'' Kaede couldn't help feel disappointed.


"Of course, Your Highness. Two jumps will suffice."
The young lord's attention returned to one of the document piles. He straighten it before pressing his turquoise ring into the stack's lower-right corner, where he had written a number on each sheet. For a minute Pascal said nothing but simply closed his eyes to concentrate, channeling magic through his body without the use of a mnemonic spellword. Then, with a brief glow of turquoise mana, the heap of papers began to float just off the table. An invisible hand pulled out one sheet before inserting it back in, and the process repeated itself again and again as the briefly enchanted pile of papers sorted itself.


Robert's laid-back smile was as calming as ever. Contagious even, as Sylviane couldn't help but grin back a little as she nodded in response.
"Is that spell the reason why you wanted me to label every sheet? Distances in one corner and time on the other?" Kaede asked as she continued to stare at the magically self-arranging documents. ''That procedural repetition -- it has to be some sorting algorithm at work.''


"Start casting. Activate on my mark. Rest of you -- prepare for battle!"
"Yes. Inscribing that information in a consistent spot makes it much easier to cast the spell." Pascal said as he walked around the huge table to the giant map of Rhin-Lotharingie that hung from the wall. The paper map was likely a copy also, as dozens of notes had been pinned onto it with small tacks. Pascal took the small leaflet he just copied and, like all the others, pinned it to the location of a small, riverside village.


They would all need that optimism in another minute.
The young lord then stepped back to examine his work. His lips formed a scowl as he furrowed his brows in deep thought.


In the meantime, she needed to contact Colonel von Bittenfeld, commanding officer of the ''Black Lancers''. He would take charge upon her departure, tasked to lead the Knights Phantom into battle at best speed.
"There are far too many bottlenecks." He sighed as he muttered to himself. "This is ''not'' going to be easy."


Even then, it would take at least thirty minutes.
Uncertain of what he was looking for, Kaede took a moment to read the note he had just pinned to the wall:


Time that a princess had to help buy...
''Capacity: 1 dock, small. Storage: 3 wagon loads. Manpower: <25, request nearby militia. Priority: critical, best in 50kp for barge, temp dock expansion necessary...''


Kaede then scanned the other bits of writing pinned to the map. There were more notes on dock capacity, on bridges that needed immediate repair, on depots with available wagons and spare parts, on delivery targets, et cetera. Every one of them was also assigned a priority category and two colors for visual identification: four corners shaded based on the type of location it was, and a thick border that matched the inadequacy of the place compared to demand.


Looking around the map, Kaede noticed that far too many of the pinned notes were labelled with red borders, just like the note Pascal had just pinned.


<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
"Well, maybe clearing my head will do me good for solving this dilemma," Pascal sighed again before he turned towards Kaede. "Come on. Let us go see what they made for dinner. Though with both Sylv and Emperor Geoffroi out of the castle tonight, I doubt it will be as sumptuous as yesterday's."


"Bet it's still better than the bread, cheese, and squash soup I had last night," Kaede shrugged. ''And I don't even like cheese much.''


She had subconsciously withheld her last comment, as Pascal's favorite food was a beer-and-cheese broth. However as Pascal opened the door and strode out, he began walking at such a brisk pace that Kaede had to scurry along as she followed him.


"You stupid girl!"
"Do you have to walk so quickly?" The familiar girl said as she struggled to keep up. "I'm wearing heels!"


Kaede was still trying to extract the siphon from its dead owner when she heard the Captain's voice. With a reflexive glance, she saw Karen von Lichnowsky use her swordstaff to pole-vault over trench and snow alike, rotating her body around the shaft as she went through the air.
"You do not need to keep up." Pascal stated, before he added in a begrudging voice that carried a hint of urgency: "I must use the latrine."


"''Flourish, Animated Assault!''"
Kaede had to suppress a laugh as she began grinning from ear to ear.


In the middle of her spin, the Captain's wavy red hair gained a life of its own as it shot forward with thousands of tendrils. Growing like wildfire even as they flew through the air, they wrapped themselves around the translucent arcane armor of the housecarl leader that was about to cleave Kaede in two.
''So he's not a robot after all.''
 
The massive zweihander blade came within a finger's reach of its target...
 
The instant Karen landed, her carpet-length hair pulled its grapple foe aside like the bent arm of a giant. Braking skis made for poor footing as the large man was thrown to his side, hurling across the snow before slamming into another. A wardbreaker rune inscribed into his sword then discharged itself as its tip pierced into the face of the unfortunate comrade.
 
Two men rushing up from behind braked in parallel, kicking up a massive wave of flurry and ice to blind the red-haired Captain. But she used her momentum to swing the swordstaff around in a wide arc, over the kneeling Kaede before slicing deep into the oncoming wave.
 
"''Negation Surge''."
 
Karen imbued her weapon with the ward-penetration aid, just before her sweeping blade met the ankles of a skier. The cut was blind and shallow, but nevertheless enough to send its victim into an uncontrolled crash that would break his leg.
 
"''Cyclone Blast,''" yelled a sergeant of Weichsel as he stepped up beside Kaede. Aiming towards the ground at a low angle, he blew the wintry wave back towards the attackers while intensifying it with freshly loosened snow.
 
...Right before his stomach was sliced open when a housecarl erupted from the concealing vortex, banking hard while leveling an outstretched sword.
 
But the blinded killer didn't turn fast enough and fell into the trench, where lingering rimefire soon set him alight in screams.
 
''Got it!''
 
Kaede raised her head as she finally yanked the siphon off a death grip. At least the effort had shown her exactly where the trigger was. Better yet, the rune-inscribed handle of the lower-barrel pump pushed in and out on automatic -- probably the remnants of an ''Animate'' spell.
 
It couldn't have been a moment too soon. Zweihander ski infantry now poured into their position, claiming the lives of two more soldiers who had followed their Captain across the trench. But they did not go alone. As Karen pulled her swordstaff blade out of yet another northerner, he fell to become the sixth enemy corpse that cluttered the nearby ground.
 
The Captain now stood alone between Kaede and the barbarian horde.
 
The housecarl leader -- a Skagen nobleman based on the polished shine of his chainmail-on-hide armor -- rushed back up to rejoin the fight. After crushing a runestone and tossing it aside, his figure began to expand mid-charge while a sheet of ice layered over skin and armor alike. His massive sword then pinned Karen's blocking shaft down into a contest of strength, one that she would quickly lose.
 
Yet even then, her prehensile hair continued to trip incoming foes and keep the smaller girl safe.
 
With limited precision involved in a flamethrower, Kaede simply aimed it towards the enemy and pressed the trigger against the lower barrel. Her first victims were two skiers charging in from the right; their faces melted away in grotesque sight as the jet of rimefire sprayed into them.
 
''Keep shooting. Keep shooting!'' she repeated to herself, trying hard not to stare at the gruesome fate of those she just killed.
 
Strafing the siphon without releasing its trigger, Kaede swept the field with its curtain of flames. Over a dozen foes soon ignited into human torches under her fire, their piercing shrieks overwhelming even the sound of battle. A crashed but merely injured siphoneer knelt up in an attempt to return fire, but Kaede noticed his movement first and sent him to a fiery grave.
 
Pausing briefly to adjust her aim, she then tapped a burst at the giant overwhelming her guardian.
 
At just a few paces of range, Kaede nailed the shot on the nobleman's left shoulder. But some of the liquid fire splashed off, landing on the Captain's right forearm and wrist...
 
"aaaAAHHH!"
 
Karen von Lichnowsky immediately lost her right grip on the swordstaff. As though trying to escape the burning pain, she half-leaped, half-fell toward her left.
 
Even after receiving enough rimefire to engulfed his shoulder, the huge northerner continued to press in like it was just a flesh wound. His zweihander easily brushed aside the swordstaff before hacking into the Captain's upper arm. The massive sword cleaved its way through the lower edge of a steel-plated spaulder, then skin, muscle, and bone alike, before severing the entire right arm off in a geyser of blood.
 
''Ohmygod what have I done...''
 
Kaede stood frozen with horror as the Captain wailed with pain on the snowy ground. Her arms holding the siphon felt paralyzed by shock even as they trembled without end.
 
Meanwhile the Skagen nobleman, dripping flames with his entire torso ablaze, took a heavy step towards Kaede.
 
Taller than any bear and covered in frozen furs and chained steel, the enemy seemed an unstoppable ice devil wreathed in hellfire. His deep growling felt more like the haunted voice of an anguished soul than the pained weakness of a dying man.
 
But before he could finish taking another, the one-handed Captain stabbed her swordstaff -- its shaft supported by wraps of wavy red hair -- straight into his groin.
 
"KEEP... FIRING!" She cried out even as blood continued to flow from her arm stump.
 
Snapping out of it, Kaede adjusted the siphon with shaking fingers before sending a burst straight into the devil's smoke-concealed face.
 
Not even a giant could survive that.
 
Kaede swept leftward on reflex, incinerating a squad of spearmen who almost reached her from the side. The curtain of flames then swung back right in a wide arc, forcing the next wave to bank hard and steer away from her blazing arm of death.
 
Although it didn't stop them from hurling a volley of shortspears.
 
Most of them either missed or deflected off her wards. But one managed to penetrate and plunge straight into her upper thigh.
 
Crying out in pain, Kaede fell down onto one knee.
 
But she never released the trigger.
 
Within a massed charge of ski infantry, there wasn't much room to maneuver without intruding upon another's lane. Crashes already littered the area as evading skiers rammed into those less accomplished, which only increased the obstacle count for those behind them.
 
But despite her efforts, Kaede stood certain that the defense was broken. She couldn't afford the time to assess her surroundings, but her peripheral vision could already see Skagen troops crossing the trench en masse atop frozen ramps...
 
There was only so much a few people could do.
 
Just then, the biggest explosion she had ever heard rang out from the distant rear, accompanied by a mist-clearing fireball large enough to engulf a small village.
 
It was as though the mother of all bombs had just detonated at the town gates.




Line 347: Line 251:




Captain von Gottschall couldn't believe his eyes.
Just as Pascal had predicted, dinner was a comparatively simple pan-cooked chicken and pork sausage cassoulet. However Pascal could not put aside his work even as he ate. As a result Kaede ended up discussing the logistical problems with him through dinner:
 
Some of his men might be gawking at the colossal blast, or the cottage-sized chunk of the stone gatehouse that was thrown high into the air.


But he found the sight before him to be far more astounding.
"--The biggest challenge with all of this is the Rhin-Lotharingie's roads. Most of them were highways built by the Holy Imperium to facilitate troop movements, which meant these routes ran from the southeast towards the north and west. Since the Lotharins' independence, these roads have supported the mobilization of Lotharin troops towards any conflict with the Holy Imperium. But their directions run perpendicular to what we need now, which are highways that run from the north and east to the southwest."


The entire 'line' was reduced to three holdouts and just a dozen men, yet its center was still held by a lone girl small and injured.
Kaede nodded in agreement. "At least the North and South Lotharingie Rivers cuts in the direction we need."


She wasn't wearing any steel armor, or even a proper Weichsel uniform.
After all, rivers were natural highways, built by nature at free of charge. It was one of the reasons why the great civilizations of Earth all began along river basins, and Kaede doubted Hyperion was any different.


But with a fiery reach of twenty paces, her jet of flames continued to sweep back and forth without end, breaking the charge like a boulder in rapids.
"Yes, but it also makes the process more complicated." Pascal fretted. "We will have to bring the supplies from their stockpiles to a dock, load onto barges, ferry them upriver, unload from barges, and then take them by wagon to their final destination. Barges moving upriver will not travel any faster than wagons, while all the extra loading and unloading doubles the manpower required to handle the goods."


Blazing corpses, burning pools, and the disentangling limbs of crashed ski infantry scattered across the ravaged fields around her.
"Not to mention scheduling," Kaede added, to which Pascal nodded in agreement.


It was a scene to inspire, a sight to behold.
Using the river in between meant that the transport route was now broken into three segments, each of which have to be coordinated separately with different timetables. Otherwise, goods would simply pile up at the river docks which mostly lacked long-term storage. This meant the supplies not only deteriorated from exposure but also ran the dangers of thieves and saboteurs.


"Company! Halt! Fire storm over the trench! Avoid friendlies!"
"To make the situation worse," Pascal complained as he swallowed another mouthful, "most of the Lotharin docks along the river are far too small, built to only handle the locals' fishing needs. Even the docks here at Alis Avern, the Empire's ''capital'', has only a single trade wharf."


Under his orders, over two platoons of dismounted Reiters stopped to reach out with casting gloves. Nearly a hundred chromatic ether blasts soon lashed out, hurling into and beyond the trench line before detonating in a cacophony of thunderous fire.
The young lord shook his head as though he couldn't believe how underdeveloped this country was.


Assuming the enemy had standard wards, such a basic elemental barrage of fireballs would kill and disable few. But battles were also a contest of morale. The chain of explosive shockwaves knocked countless foes off their feet, buying his forces valuable time.
Kaede was certainly starting to grasp why Rhin-Lotharingie was a poor country. If hauling food and provisions to the front lines was this difficult, then moving resources and trade goods between the various duchies would be as well. Worse yet, most of their roads go to the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea, who had awful relations with Rhin-Lotharingie and would persistently embargo the Lotharins' access to Inner Sea markets.


Better yet: there were now plenty of foes prone in pools of icy slush.  
This made Kaede realize another reason why Emperor Geoffroi secured an alliance with the Kingdom of Weichsel: the North Sea trade route was unreliable due to its stormy weather and the Northmen's tendencies to raid merchant shipping. However, Weichsel's territory runs along the north sea's southern coast, all the way from Cross Lake --where the two Lotharingie Rivers met-- to the borders of the Grand Republic of Samara. This allowed Rhin-Lotharingie secure access to their historic ally, who happened to be the premier trading power on the Hyperion continent.


The Northmen usually entered battle with frost runes on their skis to ensure clear lanes of advance, but that wouldn't help those knocked off their feet.
Ever since winning the Great Northern War, the Grand Republic's merchants have dominated the east-west trade lanes between the two superpowers --the Dawn Imperium in the east and the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea in the west-- in this world's equivalent of the 'Silk Road'.


"Company! Razor Field!"
"The transport routes are one problem," Kaede thought out loud as she brought another spoonful of cassoulet to her lips. "Does Rhin-Lotharingie even have the wagons and barges we need?"


A second barrage of ether lashed out, arcing over the air before striking wet ground. The wintry mix froze solid in an instant as icy transmutation spread, pinning fallen men to frozen sheets. Spears of icy stalagmites then reached upward, piercing flesh and forming rows of teeth to slow those still advancing.
"Of course not," Pascal scowled. "I have already sent out the guardsmen Sylv lent me with orders for the local lords: they are to requisition more draft animals and vehicles from the farmers, as well as any spare parts --wheels, axles, tongues, et cetera-- that we could find. More parts for repair equals more wagons in service as they wear down from the stress of the long hauls. Hopefully the people will be cooperative. It is Winter anyway and they should not need them until Spring."


The charge was soon stopped by a field of frozen icicles.
"Are you going to pay them for its use?" Kaede wondered.


Here and there a Skagen officer would halt the transmutation with bursts of heat or antimagic. But against cohesive spellcasting sent in successive volleys of nearly a hundred, simultaneously covering massive sections of the battlefield, the efforts of individuals simply weren't enough.
"I wish the Empire's treasury could afford that," Pascal said bitterly. "No, the best we can manage are promises of reimbursement if the borrowed wares are damaged."


''Time for the finisher,'' von Gottschall thought as he thanked the prior decision to conserve his mages' ether. Reiters lacked the endurance training of true battlemages. Many were already breathing hard, and this third volley would drain them low -- limiting them to only basic bolts afterwards.
"That's not much consolation for the farmers if they don't have their animals back for Spring planting," Kaede added.


But it was so worth it.
"What else can I do?" Pascal sighed. "When Father first taught me logistics, he told me to always identify the bottlenecks first and plan around them. The problem is that normally you expect ''a few'' bottlenecks to cause problems, not ''every single item'' in the forsaken list. Transit routes, dock capacity, vehicle availability, and I have not even mentioned the shortage in manpower. I doubt even the famed Wiktor von Falkenhausen could work his magic here without developing a headache."


"Company! Firemist and Advance! Fire at will!"
''I should have guessed that manpower would be a problem,'' Kaede thought. The Empire's population density had been sparse to begin with. And now the most able-bodied men have also been levied into the military, and were now either preparing or already marching south.


Captain von Lichnowsky had done her duty. It was now his turn.
"Who's Wiktor von Falkenhausen?" She then caught on. That's Cecylia's surname.


The quake of the massive explosion that followed could be felt tens of kilopaces out.
"He's Cecylia's father, my father's chief-of-staff and closest associate," Pascal's expression turned nostalgic. "Cecylia and I grew up together because of our fathers' close relationship. He is also known as the ''Accountant General'', as the man is a logistics wizard."


"There's a discipline of magic dedicated to logistics?" Kaede asked, which brought a faint chortle from Pascal.


''At least it made him laugh,'' she thought with a smile.


<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
"No. There are a wide range of utility spells that help with logistics, from conjuring temporary platforms that we'll need for the docks, to alchemic welding for vehicle repairs, to extradimensional expansion which increases carrying capacity. But the phrase simply means that Wiktor is exceptionally good at logistical planning," Pascal corrected. "Unlike Rhin-Lotharingie, Weichsel has a General Staff dedicated to supporting the deployment of troops. We have war plans, including mobilization and logistics, for every conceivable scenario. We would never find ourselves in the situation Rhin-Lotharingie is in now -- lacking a plan for supplying frontline armies ''after'' the realm had already been invaded."


The more Kaede heard about Weichsel, the more it reminded her of Prussia from European history. And while the Prussians weren't the first to create a 'General Staff', their reforms had made the institution famous and their template became the inspiration for every modern military's high command.


"Let me guess: you want to create a General Staff for Rhin-Lotharingie after the war," Kaede surmised.


Sylviane lost her footing the instant her squad emerged from teleportation.
However this time, Pascal gave her a look as though she was being stupid.


The earthquake, the thunderclap, the heat wave...
"A General Staff is useless for a country without centralized command," Pascal noted. "What Rhin-Lotharingie requires above all else is the curtailment of the nobles' privileges and centralization of crown authority. Without it, even the best General Staff has no authority to carry out its plans."


Perhaps Weichsel should rename their beloved ''Firemist Ignition'' combo as the 'Hammer of God'.
''It's no wonder why he's a proponent of Absolute Monarchy,'' Kaede reflected.


Not that the Holy Father needed mundane articles like hammers to smite.


Sir de Dunois' second teleport had landed them just behind the original Weichsel siege line. They arrived safely beyond the reach of the town's ''Lockdown'' ward, merely several hundred paces away from the Northmen advance.
...


The Princess then brought herself back to standing upright... flying upright, anyhow.


"Should probably charge in before they recover... maybe," she muttered to nobody in particular.  
It took almost an hour before the two finished their dinner. They left the dishes for the servants to clean up as Pascal led Kaede back to the guest wing.


"I believe Your Highness already knows the answer to that," Mari answered without ever turning her eyes.
"This is the room Sylv assigned you, if I remember correctly?" He looked towards Kaede in the dim hallway before receiving a nod.


''When then, if not now?''
Pascal then opened the door and waved the lights on as the two stepped inside. The room was one of the smaller guest quarters and was comparatively plain. Though 'plain' for a royal palace still meant that it came with full sets of velvet curtains and cherry wood furniture. The four-poster bed was certainly luxurious compared to the single bed that Kaede slept in last night.


Sylviane delayed not a second further before launching into a charge across the air, followed wordlessly by her twelve guardian aces.
''It's such a waste to just leave these rooms empty while the servants sleep in spartan quarters,'' Kaede thought.


"''Blaze Ignition!''" She called out. Not a spell, but the keywords to maximize her aura expansion, and consequently that of her merged phoenix Hauteclaire.
Yet Pascal clearly wasn't impressed as he sighed:


Blue-white flames poured off her hair and wings as her armigers formed up into a chevron. Their enchanted capes were woven with embedded phoenix feathers, acting as focus and intensifier in unison.
"I guess this is enough for the time being. I will definitely make sure a room better than this is prepared when you come to Nordkreuz with me."


The entire formation became a pair of scything inferno wings, soaring in as they lowered toward the ground.
"You know, I don't need to be pampered," the familiar girl chuckled in appreciation. "Apart from the lack of a computer, this is probably better than my room back in my old world."


''Do not doubt. Hold nothing back!''
After all, Kaede's father was a history professor, not some corporate executive. Kaede's mother was a housewife. Their middle-class household lived decently enough, but it was far from the lap of luxury.


"Break their middle! Charge through!" Sylviane yelled, pointing forth two spiked rods protruding from the lower end of her phoenix-crest shield. Meanwhile her right hand continued to spin her weapon of choice: a chain six paces long anchored to her left wrist, ending with the knobby cylinder of a single-headed meteor hammer.
''Not that I would want to live in some equivalent of Versailles Palace anyways,'' she thought. ''The excess is tasteless.''


Wreathed in a thick corona of flames, the chained fireball with a core of steel revolved around her hand like a meteor, tipping their chevron of blue-white fury.
"Nonsense. Pampering is ''mandatory,''" Pascal smirked. "Sylv always said that those of us with heavier responsibilities deserve more privileges, and I quite agree with her."


"For the Oriflamme!" Her armigers roared with swinging flails they sliced into the enemy horde like a hot knife through butter.
''Saying you 'agree' is an understatement,'' Kaede giggled to herself. Still, it certainly explained how Sylviane had no problems treating real girls as her personal playthings. ''She clearly believes she deserves it for all the stress and burdens she carries.''


Kaede couldn't even entirely disagree. There was a reason why Lee Kuan Yew, the Father of Singapore, famously made the prime minister position of his tiny city-state the most highly paid head-of-state in the world. To encourage the best performance from national leaders, Lee argued that it was important to provide the best wages and materialistic comforts to satisfy a person's basic, physiological needs.


Of course, the big difference here was that Sylviane never had to compete for her position. It had been handed to her by birth and circumstance.


<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
"Well, tell me if you need anything. My room is just down the hall, around the corner and five to the left." Pascal finished.


''On the other end of the guest wing,'' Kaede realized. It was clear that even here, the Princess wanted to keep them as separate as possible.


"Wait..." Kaede stopped Pascal before he could walk out. "I need help taking off my dress."


With the sun at its peak, the morning mist finally cleared away into the afternoon air.
A huge grin spread across Pascal's lips as she said that. Kaede immediately felt her cheek turn into red hot irons as she realized the implications of what she had just said.


[[Image:Daybreak_v2_ch8_NordkappStr.png|thumb|Battle of Nordkapp|right]]
"That's not what I meant!"


"There they are!" Reynald called out to Colonel von Hammerstein, except he wasn't all that far away.
"I know, I know," Pascal chuckled. However, he was still grinning from ear to ear as he strolled back to stand behind Kaede. "I just never thought I would get to hear that from a girl. It is always the lady's maid who gets the pleasure of handling this particular brand of 'logistics'."


Cecylia had deduced that the column they intercepted was heading for either Kistrand or Nordkapp. Given Skagen's recently established turtle strategy, von Hammerstein determined that of the two towns, Nordkapp was far more worthy of a decisive battle.
''Clearly, Pascal wants to be the commander-in-chief of his future wife's dresses,'' Kaede mused, which Pascal only confirmed as he continued:


They had been proven right some minutes ago when one massive explosion resounded across the rolling hills. Then another followed less than a minute later.
"I mean -- why make women's clothing so complicated if it is not for the husband's benefit?"


Rings of low clouds could still be seen in the skies above, leaving no doubts about the blast waves that cleared the local weather.
"Your ego is as astronomical as always," Kaede retorted, which only made Pascal chuckle.


The detonations had also signaled that the battle had reached its climax. Whoever was in command had already brought out the heavy artillery, and von Hammerstein couldn't wait to join in.
"Wow, Sylv did quite a number on this. I am not sure if it is even possible to unknot this by hand," Pascal commented as he fumbled with the corset's laces behind her back.


"Swerve right! We'll gut their belly and take the bacon! Three volleys fly-by! Then caracole and charge!"
Kaede was aghast. "Please don't tell me I have to sleep in this stupid thing!"


"Grenades at the ready!" Ariadne's voice followed up.
"It would certainly help shape your waist," Pascal spoke in amusement.


They approached the Skagen army from behind, if it could still be called an army. With its center pierced by a blazing scalpel and its front devastated by spells, it had devolved into something closer to an oversized mob.
"Not a chance!" The familial girl rushed to reach behind her, only to have her hands batted away by Pascal.


But a mob of Northmen warriors was still dangerous, as the Reiters on the far side evidently found out. Skagen's remaining vanguard had forced their way into melee, something the Reiters -- fancy name for conscripted nobles -- were poorly suited for.
"Just give me a moment. I am trying to remember how to cast this spell. It has been some time since I have used it."


Closer help for them would arrive from the northwest, where a hundred Weichsel horsemen galloped forth in a charge against the Skagen left wing. Waves of ''Ether Seeker'' missiles raced ahead, trying to interdict every rune or spell that attempted to break their advance. But reinforcements from the horde rushed in to harden the defensive line of spears faster than javelins and crossbows could batter them.
It took a minute before Pascal magically unwinded the laces. Meanwhile Kaede couldn't help but pout as she suspected:


Those cavalry were in for a bloody fight...
''The Princess did this on purpose, didn't she!?''


Reynald and his reconnaissance squad then followed their orders to turn right. Rising up to an altitude of thirty paces, they would gallop over the rear end of the enemy's right wing.
"There." Pascal stated as he finally began pulling the laces open. "I might have been tempted to leave you in this. But I need you to have a good sleep tonight. We have much to accomplish tomorrow. I expect you at my office by daybreak."


They encountered only sparse resistance in the form of javelins. Shooting upwards at high speed mounts, these projectiles would claim very few hits.
His last comment might have started as a joke, but its ending tone was completely serious. It made Kaede sigh as she reflected upon her situation.


The return fire, however, seemed an avalanche by comparison.
''Great. I'm stuck between an unreasonable princess and a tyrannical master.''


Knight Phantoms were dedicated noble cavalry with expensive equipment, and the ''Ghost Riders'' had matching gear which Nordkreuz spent a fortune to subsidize. Among each set was a heavily-warded extra-dimensional belt pouch dedicated to grenades -- shrunken barrels filled with either pitch and tar, or even black powder.


Reynald and hundred-thirty-plus combatants chucked them out as fast as they could. The grenades were followed by area ''Dispels'', ripping away shrinking spells to reveal full-sized kegs.
...


Then came the ''Ignition'' rays.


Four hundred crashing barrels of flaming pitch, burning tar, and exploding powder turned the Skagen right wing into hell incarnate.
Kaede didn't find out until the next morning that after Pascal left her room, he went straight back to working. It was only after he finished processing the remaining stack of papers, which took until past midnight, when he at last retired to bed.  
 
Organized by platoon, the ''Ghost Riders'' then banked away from the enemy. Those who breathed a sigh of relief soon realized their error as the phantoms caracoled around in wide loops before charging down from the skies.
 
[[Image:Daybreak_v2_ch8_Nordkapp2.png|thumb|Battle of Nordkapp: Alliance Counterattacks|right]]
 
"Holy Father with us! ''Phantom Charge''!"
 
Be it entire steeds or shadowy barding covering beastly mounts, the final words of the battle cry tore away all lingering ether. They formed a stampede of spectral horses that caught ablaze as they charged ahead, ramming soldiers and trampling men before detonating deep within hostile formations.
 
A flank protected by housecarls might withstand such punishment, but these were merely average warriors of the north. Morale collapsed like a deck of cards as they broke and routed even before the first swordstaff struck.
 
Reynald actually felt saddened by that. Flying down on an ''Air Glide'' spell, he belonged with two-thirds of the company who fought as dragoons. They rode steeds for mobility but dismounted into melee as infantry. Other than the ''Black Lancers'', most phantom companies included only one platoon of armored gryphons for its best riders; and unlike Ariadne and Gerd, Reynald had no familiar mount of his own... not yet.
 
He began another ''Phantom Steed'' conjuration even before he landed. It took under fifteen seconds for a proper Knight Phantom to summon a steed -- less than a quarter of the time it took for most mages. But fifteen seconds still left him quite far behind his friends.




Line 497: Line 389:




The battle was decided the instant Skagen forces found themselves under two pincer attacks. But while Bergfalk's 1st Nordkreuz cavalry suffered bloody casualties for only limited success in piercing the Northmen's line of spears, von Hammerstein's ''Ghost Riders'' managed to punch straight through the enemy's weak underbelly.
Two days later at dusk, Kaede watched with an exhausted, yet proud smile as Sylviane looked through all of their finished work.
 
Combined with the loss of their leadership, the beating they already took, and the chaos in their center from Sylviane's strike, Jarl Vagnsson's forces soon collapsed into total rout.
 
The Princess left Weichsel's cavalrymen to mop up. With her eleven remaining armigers, she flew northward to meet up with Pascal.
 
She found him sitting in a ditch, exhausted, while an old healer tended to his right shoulder.
 
Unlike his fiancée who was stained by the lives of others, Pascal's uniform was soaked in his own blood.
 
Sylviane wanted to pat him on the other shoulder, to congratulate him for the successful command he always wanted, or even just to greet each other again.


But the moment she met his turquoise gaze, he stopped her with a raised hand before she could even utter a word.
The final plan included scheduling time tables, manifests for every caravan and vessel, drafted orders for local nobles with action items to support the resupply effort, and more. The arrangements would require the mobilization of over 1,900 wagons of various sizes, all 39 of Rhin-Lotharingie's riverine barges and trade cogs, plus 65,000 personnel for labor, transport, and security. In total, over 1,300,000 stones of food and forage, as well as 240,000 articles of winter clothing and other equipment, had to be collected across the country and sent south. Their recipients would be the tens of thousands of frontline troops in the Kingdom of Garona, as well as supply depots along the various reinforcing armies' marching routes.


"Take your armigers and assault the gates, Sylv," he voiced through the stern mask of leadership. "Captain Horn's bombardment had destroyed their attempt to sally, and their relief force had been annihilated in plain sight of the walls. If we strike now and seize the gateway, maybe the garrison will accept an offer for their surrender."
It was a monumental, multi-staged execution plan.


The air did reek of burnt human flesh. Sylviane wondered just how many ''hundreds'' had died at the narrow gates to spread the smell so far and wide.
"I can't believe you managed all this in under three days!" The Princess was in awe as she looked about the neat piles of papers on the table.


"They'll capitulate to just twelve of us?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "Surely you aren't about to send Horn's Reiters into an urban melee."
"Well, I am a prodigy." Pascal grinned, completely shameless.


Pascal replied by pointing his left hand at the southern skies.
"And a slavedriver," Kaede interjected. "He worked me and the palace clerks to exhaustion checking all the details."


The Phantom company had reformed and rode up towards them. Their commander officer was clearly not interested in riding down the fleeing remnants of an army.
She didn't mention that Pascal even insisted on having all the results double-checked by a separate group. Clearly, he was taking no chances for mistakes.


"Smart man, whomever is in charge over there," Pascal declared firmly. "Battle is not concluded as long as opportunities remain. This is our best chance to take Nordkapp with minimum bloodshed, now go!"
"Considering the urgency, I must say that I approve," Sylviane briefly looked up from the documents. "Father always said that when it comes to military matters, time is blood. Though admittedly this task had a few more days to spare."


The Princess nodded back with a somewhat dry smile before taking off into the air once more.
Kaede blinked as Sylviane's words reminded her of the famous line from Chuikov, the defender of Stalingrad: ''<nowiki>'</nowiki>Time wasted had to be paid for with the blood of our men.<nowiki>'</nowiki>''


''Always business first... would it hurt to say one nice word?''
It suddenly made sense why Pascal worked the way he did.


''Yet I never even considered it that way,'' the young girl frowned, all her annoyance towards Pascal in the past few days now redirected towards herself. ''Perhaps I'm the one who's really spoiled... by the peace and luxury of modern times.''


...
"That being said, these plans are made on the assumption that we can increase our transport capacity by at least twenty percent through local requisitions, and the breakdown rate per trip of wagons and draft animals is no more than ten percent." Pascal admitted. "I doubled the breakdown rate from what we would normally use in Weichsel due to the poorer condition of the Empire's roads."


Sylviane frowned as she considered it for a moment before answering:


Although Sylviane never heard the brief exchange with Pascal after she left:
"I don't think that's too optimistic. It should give us close enough to the real numbers that any adjustments should be minor and easy to make." She then looked up and beamed in approval at her fiancé. "I'm glad I entrusted this task to you. Thank you, Pascal."


"First you send her off to fight other men, then you sulk about it?" the gray-haired healer in her 'fifties' asked.
"I told you that you would not regret it," Pascal replied with a smirk.


"I feel almost like the housewife who just sent the husband off to war," Pascal muttered in barely more than a whisper. "She is leaving to risk her life again, and I am just sitting here uselessly watching."
Sylviane giggled. "Don't celebrate yet. The job is only half done. What's next?"


"Says someone who probably just earned a star for his Knight's Cross? Men..." she remarked with a tone to accompany rolling eyes. "Now quit-yer-belly-aching and heal faster."
"Next, we meet with your father and go over the details," Pascal remarked. "With all the petty nobles we have to rope in to make this work, only his authority can ''guarantee'' its success."




Latest revision as of 18:47, 1 June 2021

Chapter 8 - Logistical Wizardry[edit]

Kaede followed Rachel as the elderly head maid led her down the hallway early next morning. Her breathing was still irregular after Rachel tightened her corset to the most restrictive it's ever been. The reason for that became apparent when Rachel told her that she'd been summoned by the Princess.

Her anxiety hadn't helped in regaining her breath, nor the new footwear that Sylviane provided which forced her to walk with care.

Does Vivienne even have the same shoe size as me? Kaede wondered as she focused on taking each careful step.

Her new shoes had a soft lavender hue with floral laced ankle straps. However their cute appearance was just a devious ruse to hide how they tortured her poor feet. Kaede would definitely classify them as 'high heels', as they forced most of her body mass onto the balls of her small feet. Combined with the corset and the heavy, layered dress, the outfit really forced Kaede to concentrate on walking to not lose her balance.

Thankfully, it didn't take long before Rachel reached their destination. The head maid turned to one of many closed doors in the hallway and knocked twice.

"Your Highness. I've brought her."

"Come in, Rachel."

The elderly maid opened the door before ushering Kaede though. Inside was a modestly sized office room, dominated by a large table and an assortment of armchairs on both sides. Princess Sylviane sat on the far side of the desk, beneath a huge window where the sun could be seen just climbing above the horizon. The only other occupant was her bodyguard Mari who stood two steps to her side.

Kaede had learned from Rachel that in addition to being an armiger and bodyguard, Mari also served as a lady's maid to the Princess. This meant that apart from her martial duties, Mari also helped Sylviane dress and kept track of the Princess' wardrobe. Curiously, this meant Mari had to answer to Rachel as a superior, despite the fact that armigers were knighted and Rachel did not hold any title of nobility.

Clearly, even with the feudalism of Rhin-Lotharingie, the social ladder isn't entirely dependent on birth.

"Good morning, Rachel, Kaede," Sylviane greeted the two of them with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Kaede wobbled on her heels as she followed Rachel's lead and curtsied to the Princess.

"I don't have any other request, Rachel. So if you're busy, don't let me keep you," Sylviane added.

"Of course, Your Highness." The elderly woman replied before she curtsied again and left the room.

Kaede could feel her heart beat faster as she heard the door close behind her. Being alone with the envious princess made her worry and unlike last time, Pascal wasn't in the room to offer his support.

"I hope you've been doing well these past two days, Kaede," the Princess began. "I heard from Rachel that you've been reading."

"Yes, milady," Kaede opted for the more informal address now that the head maid was no longer present. I've been doing nothing but reading. She then added dejectedly in her own thoughts.

It wasn't that she hated being buried in books. But even Kaede would like the occasional variety in her day, or to see a friendly face a few times. Rachel was nice but the elderly matron kept a strict, professional distance between them. Meanwhile all the other servants either disliked her presence or took an interest in her for all the wrong reasons.

"I'm also glad you did everything I asked without complaint, just as you had promised." Sylviane added with an approving smile, much like how a boss might praise their subordinate's performance.

"Yes, milady." Kaede merely repeated.

"Kaede, I know you're intelligent and learned," the Princess continued. "Furthermore, it has come to my attention that your knowledge stretches across a breadth of topics. The conflict in the south has left my country shorthanded for many tasks. Therefore I thought I'd ask -- how would you like to help out with the war effort?"

Kaede blinked. "Uhhh... yes, Milady?"

Sylviane smiled in amusement at the familiar girl's surprise. Meanwhile the latter thought: I certainly didn't expect this.

Given the Princess' demands during the previous two days, Kaede had resigned herself to be sidelined and kept away from Pascal for much longer. Yet here was an opportunity staring at her in the face: the chance that she'd been waiting for to prove to Sylviane that she was worth keeping around, and not merely as an 'unwanted attachment' to Pascal.

"I-I'd, I would very much like the opportunity to help out in a meaningful way, milady!" Kaede rushed to add, this time with more enthusiasm.

"Excellent!" Sylviane cheerily replied. "I'd like you to help Pascal with a task I'm about to assign him. In exchange, I'll have a room set up for you in the guest wing, just down the hall from his. I'd also like you to start joining us at meals. I heard you haven't been exactly fitting in with the other servants."

'Other servants', Kaede did not miss the phrase. It was a reminder that while the Princess was offering her a significant upgrade in amenities, she was still seen only as Pascal's servant.

The Samaran girl almost sighed before she caught herself. Still, this is quite an improvement after a mere three days. One step at a time.

"Thank you very much, milady," she bowed with a mostly-genuine smile. "I'll do my best!"

Sylviane beamed as she tilted her head and cupped her cheek with a raised palm. She looked upon the smaller girl as though admiring a work of art.

"You really are Pascal's familiar." The Princess mused before she stood up and walked around the desk. Her hands gently grasped Kaede by the shoulders, where only fine, translucent chiffon-lace separated her fingers from Kaede's skin. "Let me see how you look."

Guided by the Princess' hands, Kaede slowly turned in place. Sylviane would adjust her dress here and there, smoothing out fabric and fixing ribbons before standing back to examine the younger girl's appearance. By the time Kaede had her back turned to the Princess, she felt Sylviane was doing something to the knot of laces behind her corset.

"Milady?" Kaede worried. I really can't take any more squeezing at my waist!

"Just tightening the knot," Sylviane noted in a humored voice as she clearly heard the fear in the younger girl's tone. "We wouldn't want it to loosen during your day, would we?"

Kaede groaned. That was exactly what she was hoping for.

The Princess was still working her fingers when a knock came from outside. Before she could even answer, the door opened and Pascal walked into the room. His eyebrows rose swiftly in surprise as he saw the two. His expression still held the lingering traces of an annoyed mood, but they faded quickly as he observed the seeming closeness between Kaede and Sylviane.

"Did I miss something?"

"Oh nothing, just admiring how huggable she is in this dress." Sylviane smiled towards her fiancé before embracing the smaller girl's shoulders. "Don't you agree?"

"Kaede is cute no matter what she wears." Pascal replied with a chuckle. "But I am glad to see you two getting along."

"Oh come on, what do you think?" The Princess then insisted on his opinion. "Doesn't this dress fit her much better than it does Vivi?"

The Princess pulled back slightly to offer him a better look. However she kept her hands on Kaede's almost-bare shoulders.

This time, Pascal examined his familiar with a careful gaze before he smiled and nodded:

"I agree. Vivi's silvery hair is colder, and her eyes can be a bit too intense for the soft lavender hue. Kaede's snowy-white hair and her soft pink eyes are just perfect to accompany this dress. And I am not surprised that it fits her perfectly, though... it feels she is, a bit taller?"

"I gave her a taller pair of heels. She's easier to hug this way." Sylviane said as though 'huggability' was one of the most important attributes for any girl.

"Ah. I like it."

"<You two are both terrible,>" Kaede complained to Pascal, which only made his lips open in a silent laugh.

"<What can I say? I do not regret summoning you in that form at all when I see you like this.>"

His smug reply only made the Samaran girl pout. "<I hate you.>"

Pascal chuckled to himself for another moment before he looked up to meet Sylviane's gaze. "Sylv I do believe you asked me here for a serious matter. Not that I do not enjoy seeing this, but you know our rules."

"Yes. Official business first." The Princess pulled away reluctantly before she walked back around the office table. She then placed her hand upon a large stack of papers and parchment and began:

"This is all the information that we had received from those requesting pay and provisions. All the accounting work has already been done and documented. And this," her hand went to an even bigger stack, "is what we've found out over the past few days on available foodstuffs, coin, winter clothing, and other spare equipment, as well as the transport facilities between their stockpiles and the front lines."

Sylviane then smiled as she met Pascal's expectant eyes. "I want you to take charge of arranging for collection and transportation, to have all the necessary pay and supplies gathered and brought to the front-line troops that need them."

For a long second, Pascal merely stared back as though he was dumbfounded.

"You mean it?"

"Of course." Sylviane beamed. "Isn't this what you asked for?"

"Yes, yes!" Pascal's voice was ecstatic while he looked back with bright eyes. "I just did not expect that... you would..."

"I realized last night that I made a mistake." Sylviane returned an apologetic smile. "I should have given this task to you from the beginning. Logistics is part of the training and experience for any military commander. And I have too much on my plate to not make use of your expertise."

Amateurs discuss tactics, professionals study logistics. Kaede thought with a smile as she remembered Napoleon's famous quote. For Pascal who wanted professional experience above all else, this was a true opportunity to prove himself.

"Though this is a task for more than just two pairs of eyes." Pascal noted. "I will require..."

"I have already asked the palace clerks to place themselves under your command as needed." Sylviane spoke as she clearly anticipated his request. "I am also assigning you a squad of the Highland Guard, should you require a bit of authority on errands. This is a task of the highest priority."

Kaede remembered reading that the Highland Guard was a battalion dedicated to the royal family's protection. They were handpicked by the King of Gleann Mòr -- which really showed just how strong the ties were between the Emperor's Gaetane dynasty and King Alistair's House Mackay-Martel.

"You will not regret this," Pascal declared as gratitude and fresh determination lit his turquoise gaze.

"I know I won't," Sylviane replied, beaming. "You've never let me down, Pascal. I'm just... not the best at delegating," the Princess added rather sheepishly.

"We are all still learning," Pascal grinned back. His approval made the Princess look away slightly as a blush overcame her cheeks.

I'm not sure just who is in charge of whom here, Kaede mused.

Sure, Sylviane was undoubtedly higher on the aristocratic pecking order. However, Pascal was the one who extruded the confidence and assurance that the Princess clearly sought.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Sylviane appended. "This office is now yours to use whenever you're at the palace. I figured between my office and the guest wing is a good place."

"I appreciate it," Pascal nodded back.

"I have to leave the palace today to help with recruitment in the surrounding regions," Sylviane announced next. "I doubt I'll be back before late tomorrow night at the earliest. So how about we grab breakfast together?"

"All three of us?" Pascal hoped as he glanced towards Kaede.

"Yes." The Princess answered without any reservation.

It brought another true smile to Pascal's countenance.

"I would like that very much."


----- * * * -----


"I've finished organizing the supply manifests," Kaede stated as she carried a stack of papers back into the office.

Pascal had requested her to work through all the accounts of food and provisions based on their location of storage. They'd been separated into four groups, depending on which of the four main transit arteries --two highways plus the North and South Lotharingie rivers-- would be best suited to transport the supplies. The categorized lists were then arranged based on how far they were from the front lines. In addition, information such as the amount of time it would take from each location to reach the main artery or the next supply depot had to be appended for ease of scheduling calculations in the next step.

Even with several clerks assigned to assist her, it had taken Kaede many hours of comparing location names against maps, tracing local roads, and measuring the distances involved. By the time she was finished, night had already fallen and her stomach was sporadically growling.

She hadn't had a proper meal since breakfast. Lunch had been a mere handful of sandwiches delivered from the kitchens.

Plus my feet are killing me from standing in these heels all day! Kaede complained bitterly. Pascal, you're a slavedriver.

Kaede looked out the windows and reflected on just how late it was. The sun's rays had long vanished beyond the horizon. Only the glow of lamps and the light from the indigo gas giant remained.

Though to be fair, Pascal hadn't taken any more breaks than she had over the past fourteen hours, which was zero. Nor did either of the two clerks trapped in this room, who now looked towards her with hopeful pleas in their tired gazes.

I'm not even eighteen yet and I'm already working the hours of a Japanese salaryman, Kaede complained in her thoughts. Give me back my final year of childhood!

The young lord glanced up from his writing desk as he finished adding some notes to the corner of a parchment scroll.

"Good work. I am almost finished assessing all the supply requests and transit points. Just give me another..."

As if on cue, Kaede's stomach growled audibly in protest. The young girl covered her midriff with her hand as she looked a bit sheepish.

"How much did you have for lunch?" Pascal's brows rose.

"Just one sandwich," Kaede commented, before her wispy voice fell to barely more than a whisper: "a small one."

"You should have eaten more." He replied unsympathetically.

"It's hard to with this." Her hand stroked the corset that mercilessly squeezed her tiny waist.

Kaede had tried to loosen the laces at lunch. However the knot behind her was so tight she doubted she could undo it without help.

Her comment made Pascal sigh as he took a small piece of paper and hovered it over the spot where he wrote on the scroll. His turquoise ring glowed with mana as he magically copied the contents to the small leaflet. He then placed the scroll in one of seven, organized stacks. There was still a small pile remaining, perhaps one-tenth of what he had already completed.

"I guess I could finish this later," he took a moment to convince himself before standing up and dismissed his aides with a nod. "You two are free to go. Free feel to grab some food from the kitchen staff. I told them to make extra tonight."

"Thank you, Your Grace," the two young men took a quick bow before rushing out. It was as though they feared that Pascal might change his mind.

The sight of their hasty retreat only made Kaede shake her head. "Have you ever heard of 'working hours'?"

"Working hours last until work is done for the day." Pascal answered without any room for negotiation.

Kaede sighed. Bosses like you are the reason why countries have labor laws.

"We need to finish all of this today so we can focus on drawing up the transit schedules tomorrow." Pascal then added. "That is enough of a monster to engage by itself, even with Systematize sorting spells to help. Therefore all necessary information must be compiled beforehand."

"Sorting spells?" Kaede's eyebrows shot up. "If you have magical sorting then why did you need me to go through that list by hand?"

"Magic is not that smart," Pascal retorted as though it should be obvious. "I can feed the spell a list of numbers, or names, or even pairs of coordinates. However it does not know how to account for cliffs and rivers, and certainly not meandering roads."

So basically you have Microsoft Excel but not Google Maps, Kaede thought. "Can Systematize be combined with a cartography spell? Or is that too complicated?"

"Cartography magic is tremendously expensive due to the huge areas it must cover," Pascal explained. "It would be different if someone crafted a to-scale magical map and then..." Pascal's words slowed as he took on a pensive look, "linked to it with a specialized processing spell that adjusted for scale..."

Kaede grinned as her master had clearly caught onto an idea.

"That could potentially work." Pascal stared knowingly at her before he frowned. "Though I would have to create several new spells first. Not a solution to the immediate problem at hand."

Shame, Kaede couldn't help feel disappointed.

The young lord's attention returned to one of the document piles. He straighten it before pressing his turquoise ring into the stack's lower-right corner, where he had written a number on each sheet. For a minute Pascal said nothing but simply closed his eyes to concentrate, channeling magic through his body without the use of a mnemonic spellword. Then, with a brief glow of turquoise mana, the heap of papers began to float just off the table. An invisible hand pulled out one sheet before inserting it back in, and the process repeated itself again and again as the briefly enchanted pile of papers sorted itself.

"Is that spell the reason why you wanted me to label every sheet? Distances in one corner and time on the other?" Kaede asked as she continued to stare at the magically self-arranging documents. That procedural repetition -- it has to be some sorting algorithm at work.

"Yes. Inscribing that information in a consistent spot makes it much easier to cast the spell." Pascal said as he walked around the huge table to the giant map of Rhin-Lotharingie that hung from the wall. The paper map was likely a copy also, as dozens of notes had been pinned onto it with small tacks. Pascal took the small leaflet he just copied and, like all the others, pinned it to the location of a small, riverside village.

The young lord then stepped back to examine his work. His lips formed a scowl as he furrowed his brows in deep thought.

"There are far too many bottlenecks." He sighed as he muttered to himself. "This is not going to be easy."

Uncertain of what he was looking for, Kaede took a moment to read the note he had just pinned to the wall:

Capacity: 1 dock, small. Storage: 3 wagon loads. Manpower: <25, request nearby militia. Priority: critical, best in 50kp for barge, temp dock expansion necessary...

Kaede then scanned the other bits of writing pinned to the map. There were more notes on dock capacity, on bridges that needed immediate repair, on depots with available wagons and spare parts, on delivery targets, et cetera. Every one of them was also assigned a priority category and two colors for visual identification: four corners shaded based on the type of location it was, and a thick border that matched the inadequacy of the place compared to demand.

Looking around the map, Kaede noticed that far too many of the pinned notes were labelled with red borders, just like the note Pascal had just pinned.

"Well, maybe clearing my head will do me good for solving this dilemma," Pascal sighed again before he turned towards Kaede. "Come on. Let us go see what they made for dinner. Though with both Sylv and Emperor Geoffroi out of the castle tonight, I doubt it will be as sumptuous as yesterday's."

"Bet it's still better than the bread, cheese, and squash soup I had last night," Kaede shrugged. And I don't even like cheese much.

She had subconsciously withheld her last comment, as Pascal's favorite food was a beer-and-cheese broth. However as Pascal opened the door and strode out, he began walking at such a brisk pace that Kaede had to scurry along as she followed him.

"Do you have to walk so quickly?" The familiar girl said as she struggled to keep up. "I'm wearing heels!"

"You do not need to keep up." Pascal stated, before he added in a begrudging voice that carried a hint of urgency: "I must use the latrine."

Kaede had to suppress a laugh as she began grinning from ear to ear.

So he's not a robot after all.


----- * * * -----


Just as Pascal had predicted, dinner was a comparatively simple pan-cooked chicken and pork sausage cassoulet. However Pascal could not put aside his work even as he ate. As a result Kaede ended up discussing the logistical problems with him through dinner:

"--The biggest challenge with all of this is the Rhin-Lotharingie's roads. Most of them were highways built by the Holy Imperium to facilitate troop movements, which meant these routes ran from the southeast towards the north and west. Since the Lotharins' independence, these roads have supported the mobilization of Lotharin troops towards any conflict with the Holy Imperium. But their directions run perpendicular to what we need now, which are highways that run from the north and east to the southwest."

Kaede nodded in agreement. "At least the North and South Lotharingie Rivers cuts in the direction we need."

After all, rivers were natural highways, built by nature at free of charge. It was one of the reasons why the great civilizations of Earth all began along river basins, and Kaede doubted Hyperion was any different.

"Yes, but it also makes the process more complicated." Pascal fretted. "We will have to bring the supplies from their stockpiles to a dock, load onto barges, ferry them upriver, unload from barges, and then take them by wagon to their final destination. Barges moving upriver will not travel any faster than wagons, while all the extra loading and unloading doubles the manpower required to handle the goods."

"Not to mention scheduling," Kaede added, to which Pascal nodded in agreement.

Using the river in between meant that the transport route was now broken into three segments, each of which have to be coordinated separately with different timetables. Otherwise, goods would simply pile up at the river docks which mostly lacked long-term storage. This meant the supplies not only deteriorated from exposure but also ran the dangers of thieves and saboteurs.

"To make the situation worse," Pascal complained as he swallowed another mouthful, "most of the Lotharin docks along the river are far too small, built to only handle the locals' fishing needs. Even the docks here at Alis Avern, the Empire's capital, has only a single trade wharf."

The young lord shook his head as though he couldn't believe how underdeveloped this country was.

Kaede was certainly starting to grasp why Rhin-Lotharingie was a poor country. If hauling food and provisions to the front lines was this difficult, then moving resources and trade goods between the various duchies would be as well. Worse yet, most of their roads go to the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea, who had awful relations with Rhin-Lotharingie and would persistently embargo the Lotharins' access to Inner Sea markets.

This made Kaede realize another reason why Emperor Geoffroi secured an alliance with the Kingdom of Weichsel: the North Sea trade route was unreliable due to its stormy weather and the Northmen's tendencies to raid merchant shipping. However, Weichsel's territory runs along the north sea's southern coast, all the way from Cross Lake --where the two Lotharingie Rivers met-- to the borders of the Grand Republic of Samara. This allowed Rhin-Lotharingie secure access to their historic ally, who happened to be the premier trading power on the Hyperion continent.

Ever since winning the Great Northern War, the Grand Republic's merchants have dominated the east-west trade lanes between the two superpowers --the Dawn Imperium in the east and the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea in the west-- in this world's equivalent of the 'Silk Road'.

"The transport routes are one problem," Kaede thought out loud as she brought another spoonful of cassoulet to her lips. "Does Rhin-Lotharingie even have the wagons and barges we need?"

"Of course not," Pascal scowled. "I have already sent out the guardsmen Sylv lent me with orders for the local lords: they are to requisition more draft animals and vehicles from the farmers, as well as any spare parts --wheels, axles, tongues, et cetera-- that we could find. More parts for repair equals more wagons in service as they wear down from the stress of the long hauls. Hopefully the people will be cooperative. It is Winter anyway and they should not need them until Spring."

"Are you going to pay them for its use?" Kaede wondered.

"I wish the Empire's treasury could afford that," Pascal said bitterly. "No, the best we can manage are promises of reimbursement if the borrowed wares are damaged."

"That's not much consolation for the farmers if they don't have their animals back for Spring planting," Kaede added.

"What else can I do?" Pascal sighed. "When Father first taught me logistics, he told me to always identify the bottlenecks first and plan around them. The problem is that normally you expect a few bottlenecks to cause problems, not every single item in the forsaken list. Transit routes, dock capacity, vehicle availability, and I have not even mentioned the shortage in manpower. I doubt even the famed Wiktor von Falkenhausen could work his magic here without developing a headache."

I should have guessed that manpower would be a problem, Kaede thought. The Empire's population density had been sparse to begin with. And now the most able-bodied men have also been levied into the military, and were now either preparing or already marching south.

"Who's Wiktor von Falkenhausen?" She then caught on. That's Cecylia's surname.

"He's Cecylia's father, my father's chief-of-staff and closest associate," Pascal's expression turned nostalgic. "Cecylia and I grew up together because of our fathers' close relationship. He is also known as the Accountant General, as the man is a logistics wizard."

"There's a discipline of magic dedicated to logistics?" Kaede asked, which brought a faint chortle from Pascal.

At least it made him laugh, she thought with a smile.

"No. There are a wide range of utility spells that help with logistics, from conjuring temporary platforms that we'll need for the docks, to alchemic welding for vehicle repairs, to extradimensional expansion which increases carrying capacity. But the phrase simply means that Wiktor is exceptionally good at logistical planning," Pascal corrected. "Unlike Rhin-Lotharingie, Weichsel has a General Staff dedicated to supporting the deployment of troops. We have war plans, including mobilization and logistics, for every conceivable scenario. We would never find ourselves in the situation Rhin-Lotharingie is in now -- lacking a plan for supplying frontline armies after the realm had already been invaded."

The more Kaede heard about Weichsel, the more it reminded her of Prussia from European history. And while the Prussians weren't the first to create a 'General Staff', their reforms had made the institution famous and their template became the inspiration for every modern military's high command.

"Let me guess: you want to create a General Staff for Rhin-Lotharingie after the war," Kaede surmised.

However this time, Pascal gave her a look as though she was being stupid.

"A General Staff is useless for a country without centralized command," Pascal noted. "What Rhin-Lotharingie requires above all else is the curtailment of the nobles' privileges and centralization of crown authority. Without it, even the best General Staff has no authority to carry out its plans."

It's no wonder why he's a proponent of Absolute Monarchy, Kaede reflected.


...


It took almost an hour before the two finished their dinner. They left the dishes for the servants to clean up as Pascal led Kaede back to the guest wing.

"This is the room Sylv assigned you, if I remember correctly?" He looked towards Kaede in the dim hallway before receiving a nod.

Pascal then opened the door and waved the lights on as the two stepped inside. The room was one of the smaller guest quarters and was comparatively plain. Though 'plain' for a royal palace still meant that it came with full sets of velvet curtains and cherry wood furniture. The four-poster bed was certainly luxurious compared to the single bed that Kaede slept in last night.

It's such a waste to just leave these rooms empty while the servants sleep in spartan quarters, Kaede thought.

Yet Pascal clearly wasn't impressed as he sighed:

"I guess this is enough for the time being. I will definitely make sure a room better than this is prepared when you come to Nordkreuz with me."

"You know, I don't need to be pampered," the familiar girl chuckled in appreciation. "Apart from the lack of a computer, this is probably better than my room back in my old world."

After all, Kaede's father was a history professor, not some corporate executive. Kaede's mother was a housewife. Their middle-class household lived decently enough, but it was far from the lap of luxury.

Not that I would want to live in some equivalent of Versailles Palace anyways, she thought. The excess is tasteless.

"Nonsense. Pampering is mandatory," Pascal smirked. "Sylv always said that those of us with heavier responsibilities deserve more privileges, and I quite agree with her."

Saying you 'agree' is an understatement, Kaede giggled to herself. Still, it certainly explained how Sylviane had no problems treating real girls as her personal playthings. She clearly believes she deserves it for all the stress and burdens she carries.

Kaede couldn't even entirely disagree. There was a reason why Lee Kuan Yew, the Father of Singapore, famously made the prime minister position of his tiny city-state the most highly paid head-of-state in the world. To encourage the best performance from national leaders, Lee argued that it was important to provide the best wages and materialistic comforts to satisfy a person's basic, physiological needs.

Of course, the big difference here was that Sylviane never had to compete for her position. It had been handed to her by birth and circumstance.

"Well, tell me if you need anything. My room is just down the hall, around the corner and five to the left." Pascal finished.

On the other end of the guest wing, Kaede realized. It was clear that even here, the Princess wanted to keep them as separate as possible.

"Wait..." Kaede stopped Pascal before he could walk out. "I need help taking off my dress."

A huge grin spread across Pascal's lips as she said that. Kaede immediately felt her cheek turn into red hot irons as she realized the implications of what she had just said.

"That's not what I meant!"

"I know, I know," Pascal chuckled. However, he was still grinning from ear to ear as he strolled back to stand behind Kaede. "I just never thought I would get to hear that from a girl. It is always the lady's maid who gets the pleasure of handling this particular brand of 'logistics'."

Clearly, Pascal wants to be the commander-in-chief of his future wife's dresses, Kaede mused, which Pascal only confirmed as he continued:

"I mean -- why make women's clothing so complicated if it is not for the husband's benefit?"

"Your ego is as astronomical as always," Kaede retorted, which only made Pascal chuckle.

"Wow, Sylv did quite a number on this. I am not sure if it is even possible to unknot this by hand," Pascal commented as he fumbled with the corset's laces behind her back.

Kaede was aghast. "Please don't tell me I have to sleep in this stupid thing!"

"It would certainly help shape your waist," Pascal spoke in amusement.

"Not a chance!" The familial girl rushed to reach behind her, only to have her hands batted away by Pascal.

"Just give me a moment. I am trying to remember how to cast this spell. It has been some time since I have used it."

It took a minute before Pascal magically unwinded the laces. Meanwhile Kaede couldn't help but pout as she suspected:

The Princess did this on purpose, didn't she!?

"There." Pascal stated as he finally began pulling the laces open. "I might have been tempted to leave you in this. But I need you to have a good sleep tonight. We have much to accomplish tomorrow. I expect you at my office by daybreak."

His last comment might have started as a joke, but its ending tone was completely serious. It made Kaede sigh as she reflected upon her situation.

Great. I'm stuck between an unreasonable princess and a tyrannical master.


...


Kaede didn't find out until the next morning that after Pascal left her room, he went straight back to working. It was only after he finished processing the remaining stack of papers, which took until past midnight, when he at last retired to bed.


----- * * * -----


Two days later at dusk, Kaede watched with an exhausted, yet proud smile as Sylviane looked through all of their finished work.

The final plan included scheduling time tables, manifests for every caravan and vessel, drafted orders for local nobles with action items to support the resupply effort, and more. The arrangements would require the mobilization of over 1,900 wagons of various sizes, all 39 of Rhin-Lotharingie's riverine barges and trade cogs, plus 65,000 personnel for labor, transport, and security. In total, over 1,300,000 stones of food and forage, as well as 240,000 articles of winter clothing and other equipment, had to be collected across the country and sent south. Their recipients would be the tens of thousands of frontline troops in the Kingdom of Garona, as well as supply depots along the various reinforcing armies' marching routes.

It was a monumental, multi-staged execution plan.

"I can't believe you managed all this in under three days!" The Princess was in awe as she looked about the neat piles of papers on the table.

"Well, I am a prodigy." Pascal grinned, completely shameless.

"And a slavedriver," Kaede interjected. "He worked me and the palace clerks to exhaustion checking all the details."

She didn't mention that Pascal even insisted on having all the results double-checked by a separate group. Clearly, he was taking no chances for mistakes.

"Considering the urgency, I must say that I approve," Sylviane briefly looked up from the documents. "Father always said that when it comes to military matters, time is blood. Though admittedly this task had a few more days to spare."

Kaede blinked as Sylviane's words reminded her of the famous line from Chuikov, the defender of Stalingrad: 'Time wasted had to be paid for with the blood of our men.'

It suddenly made sense why Pascal worked the way he did.

Yet I never even considered it that way, the young girl frowned, all her annoyance towards Pascal in the past few days now redirected towards herself. Perhaps I'm the one who's really spoiled... by the peace and luxury of modern times.

"That being said, these plans are made on the assumption that we can increase our transport capacity by at least twenty percent through local requisitions, and the breakdown rate per trip of wagons and draft animals is no more than ten percent." Pascal admitted. "I doubled the breakdown rate from what we would normally use in Weichsel due to the poorer condition of the Empire's roads."

Sylviane frowned as she considered it for a moment before answering:

"I don't think that's too optimistic. It should give us close enough to the real numbers that any adjustments should be minor and easy to make." She then looked up and beamed in approval at her fiancé. "I'm glad I entrusted this task to you. Thank you, Pascal."

"I told you that you would not regret it," Pascal replied with a smirk.

Sylviane giggled. "Don't celebrate yet. The job is only half done. What's next?"

"Next, we meet with your father and go over the details," Pascal remarked. "With all the petty nobles we have to rope in to make this work, only his authority can guarantee its success."



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