Brance Second Barracks, while labeled as a training center for new recruits, wasn't actually all that important a facility.
Only basic training took place here, and any true transformation into a proper soldier happened at the First Barracks, where the real curriculum began.
This place functioned more like a filtration net to catch those unfit for the role of a soldier.
Of course, given the times, unless someone had a visible physical disability, they were conscripted regardless.
In short, this place held very little importance.
Naturally, the officers stationed here held marginal positions.
It was at this sort of backwater that Irene Juliette, once a famed female general of the Brance Army, served as an instructor.
The "Lady Knight" Irene Juliette.
With long crimson hair and skin that remained porcelain-white despite her exposure to the sun, her silver armor bore the proud insignia of the Brance family, to whom she still longed to show loyalty.
She gave off an unmistakable impression of a knight in every way—save one.
That one jarring detail was the voluptuous curves of her body that no armor could conceal.
Her prominently asserted, ample chest was an undeniable reminder that she was not just a knight but a woman as well.
Well-toned muscles clung firmly to her frame, only serving to emphasize her large bust.
Were any gossipmongers to see her relegated to this post, they would undoubtedly cluck their tongues.
Though she bore the title of instructor, the only thing she did was determine whether recruits passed the basic combat aptitude test.
It was clear she had been exiled to this station due to falling out of favor with her liege, Lynn Brance—but neither she nor anyone around her dared to speak of it.
"That concludes today's session. Good work, everyone."
"Yes, ma'am!"
After what could barely be called training, Irene departed the field, her expression unreadable.
'Good, time for my training.'
Though demoted and rendered useless, she refused to let her hardened body rust away.
Harboring no grudge against her liege for sending her here, Irene merely waited for the day she would be called upon again.
Given the way she had been mistreated by Lynn Brance, she could have easily resigned and been recruited by one of the many other lords eager for her talent—that was a guarantee.
But she was a warrior by nature, with a strict and upright character.
Perhaps it was due to that sense of honor that she never considered leaving Lynn Brance, the liege she had once chosen to serve.
'Maybe not now, but someday she will need me again. All I have to do is prove my worth then.'
Just as she was about to head off for her personal training—
"Lady Irene!"
A man's voice called out from the distance.
It was the chief of the Second Barracks.
"Greetings, Captain. As I said before, I'm just an instructor. Please, you don't need to speak to me so formally."
Though her rank was far below his, he instinctively knew:
This woman was of a different world than a small fry like himself.
If he was a conscript who would end his days as a common soldier, then she was someone who would command those soldiers on the frontlines and bring glory.
"N-no, I could never speak casually to someone like you, General Irene… but that's not important right now."
He pulled a letter from his coat and handed it to her.
"What is this?"
"They're calling for you. Your liege… Lady Brance!"
Irene's pupils contracted.
'She was calling for me? Lady Lynn Brance herself?'
"At last, your dedication has been recognized! I watched you training alone every day and always felt it was a shame that someone like you couldn't show your true worth. But now it's clear—you were sent here for a reason. She must have intended from the start to call on you when the time was right!"
"..."
It was true she had hoped her liege would eventually recognize her—but she had not dared to expect it.
She knew Lynn Brance didn't like her. She didn't know why, but the liege clearly didn't favor her.
But as a loyal warrior, she had served faithfully.
"...No. If I accomplish something great, she'll have no choice but to see my value."
Lynn Brance was wise, cunning, and sometimes even cruel—but she wasn't evil.
And in these chaotic times, Irene believed that a ruler like Lynn was the best hope for true peace.
Who but her liege could possibly stop the notorious tyrant Serpina?
"Understood, I'll leave this place to you."
"Lady Irene! You won't need to return to this place ever again! Please, go forth and make your mark..!"
Irene exchanged farewells with the man and slowly walked out of the barracks.
Then, for the first time in what felt like forever, she turned her steps toward the castle, where her liege awaited.
* * *
"Lord, Irene Juliette has arrived."
"Let her in."
"Yes, my lord!"
Lynn responded indifferently, sitting cross-legged in her chair with a sullen expression.
A moment later.
Irene walked briskly before her, knelt down, and bowed her head as she spoke in a solemn tone.
"I, Irene Juliette, have arrived at your summons, my lord."
"Yeah, yeah. Enough with the greetings. Looks like I'll need you to fight."
"There is no need to ask. Give me any order. I will carry it out, even at the cost of my life."
Irene was as loyal as ever.
But Lynn replied with a listless expression.
Even though this was a relationship between lord and retainer, the atmosphere was unusually cold.
"I want you to take Zeilant Castle. I'll give you 23,000 troops. Can you do it?"
"Zeilant Castle..."
Even while focusing on her training, Irene had been closely monitoring the national situation.
Zeilant Castle was the only stronghold of the small country Lunarian Army nearby.
Not long ago, Karlinz had led 8,000 troops to invade it and suffered what was perhaps the most humiliating defeat in Brance Army's history.
23,000 was nearly triple the size of the previous force.
She had heard that mercenary groups were involved on the other side, but with this number, it seemed doable.
"What? You don't want to? Then don't."
"Not at all."
Irene bowed her head immediately.
"I will raise the Brance Army's banner over Zeilant Castle without fail."
"Alright, if you've got nothing else to say, go. Oh, right. I can't give you that much food. Our fronts are spread thin. I think I can provide a week's worth at most. You can manage, right?"
Lynn spoke with a cheerful smile, but the condition was absurd.
A siege force with only one week of supplies.
Considering how much more difficult siege warfare is compared to defense, it was a completely unreasonable demand.
Yet Irene raised no objections and replied loudly.
"Yes, I will capture it as quickly as possible. Please don't worry."
"..."
In a normal situation, this unwavering loyalty would've been admirable—
But for some reason, Lynn just couldn't stand Irene.
There was no convincing explanation.
Sometimes people just don't get along. Lynn Brance couldn't stand her on a visceral level.
"Alright. Go."
"Yes, I will bring you victory."
After Irene slowly disappeared from view.
Lynn twirled a lock of her hair with her finger and sank deep into thought.
'I really don't like her, but her skill is the real deal... She should do fine, right?'
There was no particular reason for deploying someone she disliked this much.
It was just necessary to win.
The limited supplies—just one week's worth—weren't to torment Irene.
It was simply a fact.
After confirming that mercenary forces had joined the enemy, a large force of over twenty thousand was needed, but even scraping together everything, only that much food could be supplied.
That meant they needed a commander who could take the castle within that time.
Only two generals fit that description.
One was her elder brother, Chel, but he was still stuck on the southern front and couldn't be summoned.
That left... Irene, who she had intentionally set aside.
Besides, Irene Juliette was famed as a master of sieges.
"Practicality… For the greater good. Yep."
Wearing a deeply displeased expression until the very end—
Once again, they moved to invade Zeilant Castle.
* * *
Although two mercenary groups had joined our Lunarian Army—
Technically, those groups were subordinate to our force, but we couldn't call them our soldiers.
Even if they'd willingly pledged themselves to Luna for now, ultimately their members served their own captains.
And since those captains could change their minds at any time, I desperately wanted to recruit more troops while things were still peaceful.
"Conscription... you say."
"Yes, I'd like to assign both Lord Cain and Lady Tifa to the conscription task this time."
Hearing my words, Luna paused thoughtfully before speaking carefully.
Since no one else was around, she used polite speech with me.
"But... the aftereffects of the typhoon still weigh heavily on our people... will it be alright?"
Conscription meant drafting all the young men into the military.
Which also meant taking away the workforce needed to rebuild the villages.
But we couldn't afford to delay any longer.
There was no point in hoping for miracles forever.
"Thanks to our recent relief efforts, public sentiment isn't too bad. In fact, if we miss this timing, we may not get another chance to recruit. Even with two mercenary groups under our command, we only have 3,000 actual soldiers. That leaves our territory far too exposed. Please make the decision."
Luna considered my words deeply—
Then slowly nodded.
"...If Lord Swen says so, then... we'll begin conscription this month."
Good.
There wasn't anything else worth assigning to those two at the moment anyway.
Since Luna always consulted me about who to assign tasks to, I'd have picked up on it if there were something better.
And at that moment—
"My liege!! Are you here!?"
A soldier rushed in, shouting urgently.
If one wanted to nitpick about a soldier suddenly bursting into the castle, maybe, but Luna ignored that and responded calmly.
"What is it?"
I examined the soldier's attire.
Specifically, I checked his forearm.
Just as I expected—
A vivid red cloth was tightly tied there.
He was a messenger.
Haah.
In Garland Eternity Saga, once a year had passed since the game began—four turns in—CPU enemies began launching invasions.
If you played as a weak country at that point, endless enemy invasions would begin.
It was practically a defense game.
And now.
In this world that had become reality, where arbitrary time limits had vanished—
The fate of weak nations, this defense game, was still unavoidable.
"The Brance Army... they're marching with 23,000 troops to invade Zeilant Castle!"
...Shit.