Chapter 13

The Brance Second Barracks, though officially labeled as a training camp for new recruits, wasn’t really all that important of a facility.

All they did here was basic military drills; the real soldier transformation and rigorous training happened at the First Barracks where the serious curriculum unfolded.

This place merely acted as a filter to weed out those unsuitable to be soldiers.

Of course, given the era, unless someone had an obvious physical disability, everyone got conscripted anyway.

Thus, this location held little significance…

Naturally, the ranks of those managing this place were akin to dead-end jobs.

Among these managers was Iren Julieat, once a brilliant female general renowned in the Brance Army, now quietly fulfilling her duties as an instructor here.

“Knight” Iren Julieat.

With long, fiery red hair cascading down her back and porcelain-white skin that gleamed despite constant sun exposure, she wore a silver armor engraved with the emblem of the Brance Clan—a symbol of her unwavering loyalty.

She exuded the quintessential image of a knight, except for one striking anomaly: her voluptuous figure accentuated by her impressive bust, making it clear she was not just any knight but also a woman.

Her toned muscles complemented her curvaceous form, enhancing her powerful presence.

Surely, if gossipers saw her relegated to such a trivial post, they’d wag their tongues disapprovingly.

Though officially titled as an instructor, her actual task was merely overseeing whether new recruits passed their basic combat tests—nothing more. To most observers, it was evident she’d fallen out of favor with her lord, Lin Brance—but neither she nor those around her dared voice this openly.

“Well then, let’s call it a day. Everyone has worked hard.”

“Yes!”

After what felt like meaningless observation disguised as training, Iren walked off the field without changing expression.

“Alright. Time for my daily practice.”

Even though demoted to this inconsequential role, doing nothing wasn’t an option lest her formidable physique rust from disuse. Without harboring any resentment toward her lord who sent her here, she dedicated herself fully each day, waiting patiently for the moment he’d recall her into service.

Certainly, being treated so unfairly by Lin Brance, she could’ve easily resigned and been swiftly recruited by other dukes across the land due to her exceptional abilities—but no. Her stern character wouldn’t allow it. Once deciding on whom to serve, she refused to abandon Lord Lin Brance.

“He may not need me now, but someday soon he surely will. Then I’ll prove my worth.”

Just as she was about to depart for her personal training…

“Iren Lady!”

A man’s voice called out from afar.

The speaker turned out to be the head supervisor of the Second Barracks.

“Greetings, Supervisor Sir. As I mentioned before, there’s no need for formalities since I’m just an instructor ranking below you.”

Though technically holding a lower rank than him…

He instinctively knew their worlds differed vastly. While he might end his days as a mere conscripted soldier, Iren was the type who commanded armies at the forefront, achieving glory.

“No, how could I address General Iren casually… But that aside, here’s something important.”

He handed her a letter.

“What is this?”

“They’re looking for you. Your lord…!”

Her pupils contracted sharply upon hearing this.

Is he calling for me? Lord Lin Brance?

“This means our lord finally recognizes your greatness! Watching you train alone every day behind the scenes made me feel sorry for you… There’s no doubt he placed you here intentionally for some greater purpose!”

“…”

Honestly speaking, while hoping deep down that her lord would eventually seek her out, she hadn’t truly expected it. She knew she had displeased him somehow, though the exact reason eluded her. Still, as both a warrior and loyal subordinate, she bore no ill feelings.

“But if I achieve great deeds, he’ll surely acknowledge me.”

Lin Brance, though cunning and occasionally cruel, wasn’t inherently evil. Iren firmly believed only leaders like him could bring true peace amidst this chaotic age. Who else but her lord could stand against Serpina, the infamous tyrant whose reputation spread across the continent?

“Understood. I’ll leave this place in your capable hands temporarily.”

“There’s no need to leave again! You don’t have to return here. Please, please accomplish great things!”

With a polite nod to the man bowing respectfully, Iren slowly left the barracks and headed toward the castle where her lord awaited after far too long.

*

“Lord. Iren Julieat has arrived.”

“Send her in.”

“Yes!”

Lin sat slouched in her chair, legs crossed, replying indifferently.

Moments later, Iren approached solemnly, knelt down, and spoke formally.

“I, Iren Julieat, respond to my lord’s summons.”

“Yeah, yeah. Enough with the pleasantries. We’ve got some fighting to do.”

“Would I refuse? Command me, and I shall accomplish it even at the cost of my life.”

Despite Iren’s utmost devotion, Lin replied lackadaisically, which seemed highly abnormal regardless of master-servant dynamics.

“I want you to seize Jeilrant Castle. I’ll give you 23,000 troops. Can you handle it?”

“Jeilrant Castle…”

Iren kept abreast of current events despite focusing on her own training. Jeilrant Castle belonged to the nearby minor nation, Lunarien Army. Not long ago, Kalintz led an attack with 8,000 men but suffered a humiliating defeat when facing Brance forces for the first time on the continent.

23,000 troops amounted to nearly three times the earlier force. Rumors suggested mercenaries joined them, yet this numerical advantage seemed sufficient for victory.

“Why? Don’t like it? If not, don’t do it.”

“No.”

Iren immediately bowed her head.

“I shall ensure Brance’s flag flies high over Jeilrant Castle.”

“Oh. Nothing more to say? Go ahead then. By the way, we can’t supply much food. Due to scattered battlefronts, we can only provide about a week’s worth. Can you manage?”

Lin smiled brightly, though the conditions sounded absurd. Conquering a fortress with only a week’s worth of supplies meant near-impossible odds, especially considering the difficulty of siege warfare compared to defense.

Yet Iren didn’t question it, responding loudly instead.

“Yes. I’ll capture it within the shortest possible timeframe. Rest assured.”

For a normal situation, Lin should’ve been pleased hearing such loyal words—but something about Iren still grated on her nerves. No apparent reason existed for this dislike. Sometimes people simply clash like oil and water. Physiologically, Lin just couldn’t warm up to her.

“Alright. Go.”

“Yes. Await my triumphant report.”

As Iren slowly disappeared from view, Lin twirled her hair absentmindedly, lost in thought.

“She’s annoying, but her skills are reliable enough… She’ll probably succeed.”

There was no particular reason to use someone she disliked so much. Victory demanded it. The limited one-week supply wasn’t arbitrary cruelty—it was literal fact. She wasn’t stupid enough to ruin plans over personal feelings. Knowing mercenaries had joined the enemy side necessitated mobilizing over ten thousand troops, but currently available provisions barely stretched to cover this duration. Thus, a competent commander capable of capturing the fortress within this timeframe became essential. Only two candidates fit the bill—one being her older brother Chel stationed elsewhere, leaving Iren as the sole viable choice. Besides, Iren excelled specifically in siege tactics.

“Pragmatism. For the greater good. Yes.”

With that unenthusiastic expression lingering, Lin prepared to invade Jeilrant Castle once more.

* * *

Though two mercenary units joined our Lunarien forces…

They remained independent entities under their respective captains rather than fully integrated soldiers. Even if they came willingly due to some affinity for Luna, ultimate allegiance still lay with their mercenary leaders. Therefore, recruiting actual soldiers during peacetime remained my priority.

“Conscription… Is that what you mean?”

“That’s right. This time, assign Cain and Tifa to oversee conscription duties.”

At my suggestion, Luna carefully considered before replying cautiously, using honorifics since we were alone.

“But the shadow of the typhoon still troubles the villagers… Would this be wise?”

Conscription essentially meant drafting young men into the army, depleting villages of vital youth needed for reconstruction.

However, delaying further carried no benefits.

“Thanks to recent relief efforts, public sentiment among the villagers isn’t bad. In fact, missing this opportunity might make recruitment impossible forever. With only two mercenary units under us and our direct troops numbering merely three thousand, our territory remains dangerously exposed. Please make the decision.”

Luna pondered deeply after hearing my explanation before slowly nodding.

“If Sir Swoen says so… We’ll conduct conscription this month.”

Great.

Anyway, there weren’t many suitable tasks for them right now. Since Luna always asked me what assignments to give, I’d likely notice if anything better arose given my Divinity 100 insight.

And then…

“Lord!! Are you here??”

A soldier rushed in urgently shouting. Though one could nitpick about protocol entering the castle grounds, Luna ignored it, maintaining a calm tone.

“What is it?”

I examined the soldier closely—noticing specifically his arm.

And indeed…

As predicted, a bright red cloth tightly bound around it.

He was a messenger.

Sigh.

In “Garland Eternity Saga,” CPU-controlled enemies start invading after four turns or roughly one year into gameplay. Playing as a small nation, waves of attackers flood in relentlessly, creating a veritable defense game scenario.

Here too, in this world without artificial constraints like “one year,” fate dictated playing the same [Defense Game] as a minor power.

“The Brance Army… They’re coming with over 23,000 troops to invade Jeilrant Castle!”

Shit.