Chapter 62: Numbers aren’t everything in battle

THE DAY AFTER they'd confirmed Kyle's arrival in the capital city, Rishe was once again disguised as the brown-haired boy Lucius. She sat on a bench in the corner of the training grounds.

I can't breathe!

She was already sweaty, the cloth she had wrapped around her chest making all the heat settle in her torso. Although she was on break, her lack of stamina and the muscle pain had left her completely exhausted.

"You okay, Lu? Pull yourself together! Here, I'll fan you!"

The recruit sitting next to her flapped a paper handout to create a little breeze.

"Thanks, Fritz… That's nice and cool. I'm fine, though—rest while you can. We have sparring after this."

"Oh, don't worry about that. It feels better when you have someone else do it, right?"

Printed on the paper Fritz was using to fan her was their midweek assessment following their first three days of training. It listed all the trainees' names along with scores from 1 to 5. Next to Lucius's name were Rishe's scores for stamina and strength, both a measly 1. Apart from Rishe, everyone had at least a 3. Fritz had a 5 in both, but he didn't seem to consider the ratings terribly important.

"We finally get to use wooden swords today, right? Ahh, I can't wait! Oh, Lord Lawvine."

Fritz and Rishe hurriedly made to rise as the count appeared, but Lawvine waved them off.

"There's no need to stand. Use your breaks to recover and maintain your stamina. Lucius Alcott, you didn't rest enough yesterday, did you?"

Rishe gulped. The count had seen right through her.

Well, what did I expect from Prince Arnold's chosen instructor?

She'd spent all of yesterday afternoon wandering around the castle town with Arnold. After Prince Kyle's carriage arrived, they'd followed him to confirm the inn he was staying at, and they hadn't returned to the palace until nightfall.

She'd been planning to go to bed early, but she needed to tend her field and sort medicinal herbs. Ultimately, Rishe hadn't made it to bed until after her usual hour.

"I apologize for not being able to manage my condition."

"I am not criticizing you. You will be sparring after this, however. Speak up right away if it becomes too much for you."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

In normal knight training, pushing through the pain was seen as a way to hone the mind and body, but Galkhein seemed to favor slower, more precise training.

This is how they create a country with absurd military strength in just five years.

Lawvine's training wasn't simply slow and steady; the upcoming matches were evidence of that.

On their third day of training, recruits would be tiring of the harsh, monotonous work. Sparring with wooden swords was fun. Not only would it spice things up, but it would also show everyone how much work they truly needed to do. The cadets would be more passionate in their training afterward.

I wonder if Prince Arnold has told Count Lawvine about Prince Kyle.

He had to know something, but Rishe had no idea how much information the prince had shared. Facts or strategies that Arnold may have told Lawvine and not shared with Rishe.

After all, Count Lawvine has been under Prince Arnold's command before.

It made Rishe wonder what he was like as a commander.

"Lord Lawvine, if you don't mind my asking, could you share some war stories with us new recruits? Perhaps…regarding the defense of Ceutena, Fritz's hometown?"

"Oh! I would love that!" As an Arnold fan, Fritz was all for it. "Especially anything about the prince!"

Lawvine was passionate about educating young people. He mused, "Well, let's see… In the defense of Ceutena, Galkhein's forces numbered seven thousand. We faced fifteen thousand enemies attacking by ship."

"Wow… They had double our forces, then."

"The difference in our numbers was even more dramatic than that—Prince Arnold stood on the front lines with a mere three thousand troops entrusted to him by the emperor."

"Huh?! You were already outnumbered, yet he didn't even use all the soldiers he had?" Fritz blurted.

"The remaining four thousand were hastily trained young knights and farmers who'd had weapons shoved into their hands. Prince Arnold saved them for low-risk diversion missions, evacuating the citizenry, and logistics. He met the enemy with combat-ready soldiers at his side."

"And His Highness still won."

"That's right. He made use of the heavy rainfall that day, utilizing the terrain of the port town as well as the enemy's position. He overturned a massive difference in numbers with strategy, rendering our side's casualties down to the absolute minimum."

Fritz's eyes shone.

"There was another battle around the same time with similar circumstances. Galkhein was victorious again, but we lost thousands of soldiers. The casualties were almost all new recruits."

"So what you're saying is…numbers aren't everything in battle."

"Indeed. It's always better to have superior numbers, but hurling hordes of untrained men at the enemy is meaningless. Prince Arnold has proven this in real time." Lawvine's voice dropped slightly.

"His Highness spares not a thought for the weak. He would never let a weak person onto the battlefield just for a chance at military achievement. However, this policy also ensures the fewest losses."

Rishe lowered her eyes, thinking.

Arnold didn't send the weak into battle. What he wanted was an army with nothing but extremely powerful knights.

Is he strengthening the country to make war on the rest of the world in the future?

"The world is peaceful now, but the lives lost during the conflict are gone for good."

Lawvine smiled softly. It was an awkward expression, but kind. "Many young people were killed. I feel a measure of responsibility."

Oh! Rishe had heard that line spoken somewhere before.

"Many young men around my age lost their lives in the war. And I couldn't even stand near the battlefield."

She could still remember it clearly to this day. In her life as an apothecary, Rishe had said, "Prince Kyle, do you remember what my master told you? Staying alive is a royal's most important duty."

"I just can't agree when it means sacrificing my own people."

Rishe felt her gaze moving toward the palace.

"Your break will be over soon," Lawvine was saying. "Try to get some rest before then."

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much."

Rishe and Fritz sketched a bow as Lawvine left to speak with some of the other cadets.

"They really are incredible, huh? Both Prince Arnold and Lord Lawvine."

Rishe nodded and said simply, "They are."

She had much to think about and so much to do. She was growing impatient, but she knew she had to take things one at a time.

And for that, I'll need stamina. Training comes first!

As she was lighting the flame of her motivation, several other cadets walked past.

"Yo, Lucius. Lord Lawvine really seems to like you despite you scoring all ones in the assessment, huh?"

"…Sven."

The smirking Sven was a particularly talented recruit. According to the scores, his stamina was a 4 and his strength was a 5.

"It's nice that he spends so much extra time helping people with no talent. I envy you."

"Hey, Sven. I told you to leave Lucius alone."

"That's so nice of you, Fritz. We're all just trying to be nice here, you know?"

Sven and his friends grinned down mockingly at Rishe. "Kids from the slums might not be aware, but this country's knight corps works on the merit system."

"Right," Sven's friend added. "Hey, Last Place. It doesn't matter how hard you work. You should find a new job. Training is a waste of time for someone like you."

Typical.

That was the extent of Rishe's feelings on the matter, but Fritz appeared to feel differently.

His usual sunny smile had been replaced with an angry scowl. "Knock it off, Sven. Lu is taking his training seriously. Don't mock another person's hard work."

"Hah! You seem confused. We're not here to make friends." In contrast to Fritz's sober anger, Sven shrugged, sneering.

"But you always get so angry when we laugh at Lucius. If you really want to be a knight, don't you think you should have the guts to climb your way to the top no matter how many people you have to step on to do it?"

"Fritz, have you been standing up for me?" Rishe asked.

"It's not a big deal. I just can't stand people badmouthing my friends."

Rishe let out a little breath at Fritz's bold declaration. Break was nearly over; it was almost time for their spar. The matches were round-robin—Rishe would be crossing blades with each one of them.

I hope they don't pick on Fritz just because he chose to befriend me.

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