Altina the Sword Princess: Volume 6

By Yukiya Murasaki and himesuz

“There are plenty of ways to defeat a navy that has nothing but its strength going for it...”
After going up against High Britannia’s newest weapons, the Empire’s Seventh Army is helplessly defeated. While Regis’s command allows them to barely avoid complete and total annihilation, the Empire remains in a terrible predicament—the only way to stop the enemy invasion is by severing their sea routes, but the Belgarian Navy is facing great difficulties from another new innovation known as the steam ship.
And so, Altina’s army heads to Port Ciennbourg to salvage the naval front. But with only sailing ships at its disposal, does Belgaria really have the means to turn the tide?!
Here is the sixth volume of a tale of war, love, and politics, woven by the bookworm and the sword princess.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J-Novel Club
• Release date: Dec 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781718365087

Book preview

Chapter 1: On Le Lucé

Imperial Year 851, May 22nd—

It was a day later than scheduled when the First Army arrived for the rendezvous. They were currently stationed atop Le Lucé—a hill covered in low, verdant grass that served as an excellent vantage point—where they had set up a tent for the express purpose of a conference.

Despite it being midday, the heavy clouds looming overhead made everything dim and gloomy. A fierce wind accompanied them, and every now and again a sudden gust would noisily rustle the grass underfoot. It wasn’t quite as bad as it would have been down on the plains below, but it was still strong enough to blow one’s hair about.

A black-haired young man—Fifth-Grade Admin Officer Regis Aurick—brushed his bangs away from his eyes, when all of a sudden, his gaze turned to the girl standing beside him. She was accompanying him on his trek up the hill, and her visage was so breathtaking that it was practically a fine work of art. Even under gray, cloudy skies, her hair boasted a fiery red luster.

As her pale, slender fingers swept back her hair, a few silky red strands tickled Regis’s nose. She was returning his gaze, her crimson eyes looking straight into his.

This girl, whose red hair and crimson eyes served as proof of her Belgarian royal lineage, was Marie Quatre Argentina de Belgaria. She was a princess of the Empire who, under normal circumstances, would never be walking side by side with a commoner such as Regis—even with him being her tactician.

But that wasn’t the only oddity in their relationship—whenever they were alone or in the presence of a select few, Regis would drop the formalities expected of one addressing a royal and call her by the nickname Altina. And when he showed even the slightest trace of reservation around her, the prone-to-emotion princess wouldn’t even try to hide her discontentment.

She never seems to get angry about it, though. In fact, I think it makes her sad more than anything else... Regis thought, though he wasn’t sure whether he was just overthinking things.

Altina parted her pale lips to speak. Oh, sorry. Is my hair getting in your face?

...No, not at all.

Really? Hey, you’re spacing out a little. You’re not feeling unwell, are you?

She reached her hand out to touch Regis’s forehead, and he inadvertently moved a step back. I’m perfectly fine, he replied tersely. There was no possible way he could admit that he had actually been enchanted by her beauty, and in an attempt to hide his growing shame, Regis wiped away a layer of sweat he hadn’t even shed.

insert1

I hope that’s true... It’s been one bad thing after another. Please, don’t overdo it.

It was as Altina said: following their engagement with Varden, the Beilschmidt border regiment had marched for twenty days only to fight a losing battle the day before last. If there was any consolation, the regiment itself hadn’t experienced any major losses, and neither she nor Regis had been injured. But there was no doubting that they were both worn down.

...If I’m tired, then I can’t imagine how bad you and the soldiers must have it, Regis said. He had made the twenty-day journey by carriage, and had even been given his own provisional office. He did not have to worry about lugging around a sword or spear, nor had he directly taken part in the battle.

Altina shrugged. The soldiers and I, well... we’re trained for this. A lot better trained than you are, at least. That’s why you’re my biggest concern.

I see... I have no rebuttal.

The princess teasingly poked out her tongue in response. Eheheh... I beat Regis in an argument. Maybe I’ve got what it takes to be a tactician.

That would be wonderful. Now if you could just take over some of my work, I’ll have more time to read.

Ha, I’m only joking.

What a shame... Well, I suppose I have no other choice, then—I’ll have to cut down on sleep instead.

Err, Regis?

I’m only joking.

You’d better be... If you don’t get enough sleep, you really will come down with something.

I’ve already shaved down my sleep time as much as possible; it quite literally can’t go any lower.

Altina’s expression turned serious. Now you listen here, Regis...

Don’t worry, I’m at least getting enough sleep to avoid collapsing... I think.

Ah, of course! I’m just going to have to start sleeping with you! That way I can be sure you’re in bed at a reasonable time!

Altina looked rather proud of herself, grinning like she’d just hit on a brilliant idea. Regis could already feel his cheeks heating up, and while it took the princess a little while longer to realize what she had just said, she soon turned red as well.

No, wait... I didn’t mean it like that, okay!?

Right.

I’m a splendid adult now! I won’t even sleep in the same room as a man until I’m married!

But of course.

The age of adulthood in Belgaria was fifteen, and just yesterday, Altina had welcomed her fifteenth birthday on the dreary plains of war. Her maid Clarisse had held a modest celebration, and the Black Knight Jerome had prepared some high-class wine as a birthday present. It wasn’t rare to give a person alcohol to celebrate their rise to adulthood. And almost immediately after she’d taken her first sip of alcohol...

Regis shook his head, immediately putting a stop to that derailed train of thought. Well, whatever the case—I don’t think a man and woman should thoughtlessly sleep in the same room, regardless of age, he said with a shrug.

I-I know that already, Altina replied with a nod, red to her ears.

They were now nearing the tent atop the hill.

I know these are dark times, but Prince Latrielle is still your rival for the throne, Regis said. Take care not to say anything careless.

Um, what would count as careless?

...I suppose I wouldn’t have needed to warn you if you could make the distinction. In that case, please leave the negotiations to me.

Right. That’s probably for the best.

Knights of the Empire’s First Army patrolled the tent’s perimeter on horseback, diligently on the lookout. It was only the month before when they had bared their fangs at Altina’s regiment, losing almost a third of their brigade to heavy casualties as a result.

Regis didn’t think they would seek retribution during such a state of emergency, but he still shivered nervously. Altina, on the other hand, was carrying herself so boldly that her attitude practically screamed, If you’ve got a problem, come at me!

The knights met her with immaculate salutes; their motions were textbook, and they moved in perfect unison. Altina responded with no more than a small nod before walking through, with Regis anxiously trailing behind.

✧ ✧ ✧

The entrance to the tent was just a dangling sheet of cloth, held down at the bottom with rocks. Altina pushed it aside and marched straight in.

A strong herbal scent drifted through the air inside, and there were around six knights stationed by the walls. First-Grade Admin Officer Germain was standing by a long desk wearing a grave expression. His face made it clear just how fatigued he was. Latrielle was seated beside him, dressed in his military uniform with a bandage wrapped around his head, staring hard at a map that had been spread out over the tabletop. Had he been injured in battle? His complexion didn’t look any different than usual: his skin was as pale as plaster, his lips were redder than a ripe tomato, and his face showed not even a hint of weariness.

The prince spoke without even moving his eyes from the map. I’m glad to see you’re in good health, Argentina.

insert2

Likewise. You look surprisingly healthy, Latrielle. I’d heard you were injured.

Yes, the enemy got one over on me. They dropped rocks and logs on us from the cliffs above, then their cavalry charged down those very cliffs to attack us.

Doesn’t sound like anything special; I remember you used to run down cliffs all the time.

That was when I was still a child, youthful and invincible... I never anticipated that they would cut straight to the center of an army thirty-thousand strong, even with the narrow mountain path stretching our formation.

Where were you ambushed? Altina asked.

Germain answered on Latrielle’s behalf, pointing at a spot on the map. Right here—the narrowest point of a path through the mountains. The enemy attacked from above, then retreated into the valley below once the battle was over.

...I see.

On terrain like that, there was no guaranteeing the safety of the army’s main camp, no matter how many troops they had at their disposal. The ambush appeared to have taken place on a pathway around halfway up the slopes, but the map alone wasn’t enough for them to discern how steep the cliffs around it were.

Regis fell into thought for a moment. Had they been moving through enemy territory, it would have been careless to discount the possibility of ambushes and traps... But the First Army had been well within imperial borders, and they were going up against an invading force.

One needed a thorough understanding of the surrounding land before they could competently select spots to lie in ambush, and large-scale traps required considerable preparation. In other words, this attack wasn’t down to the First Army being inept—rather, it was down to their enemy being extremely competent.

Altina pointed at Latrielle’s bandaged head. "We can say the attack was unavoidable. But how did you get injured?"

This wound is from the trident of Mercenary King Gilbert. Just when I thought I had dodged, he caught me with a second strike. That man’s going to be quite troublesome.

Altina groaned, her eyes fixed on the map. Mrr... Those Renard Pendu folks really are something...

Sounds like you’ve had a run-in with them too.

You could say that... Altina’s expression soured. During their battle against Varden, she had fought a girl named Franziska from the mercenary brigade Renard Pendu. Franziska was a crossbow expert who had managed to both take out Altina’s guard Eric and break the Grand Tonnerre Quatre.

Latrielle grabbed a piece from the corner of the map and rolled it between his fingers. What’s become of the Seventh Army?

I’m sure you’ve already received the letter, but we lost Lieutenant General Barguesonne, along with the majority of his soldiers.

The approximately twenty-one thousand soldiers of the Seventh Army had been cut down to a mere ten thousand. This figure accounted for four thousand dead, five thousand injured, and two thousand having deserted, but the reality was that some counted among the dead could have simply run away, and vice versa. When it came to losing battles, even the extent of one’s losses could be unclear.

Incidentally, the Beilschmidt border regiment had only lost close to one hundred soldiers, and these losses were exclusively from the Black Knight Brigade.

With some prompting from Latrielle, Germain spoke up. I will henceforth report the state of the First Army. We had joined with the Third Army and, counting mercenaries, were approximately thirty thousand strong. We only lost one thousand troops in combat; there has been no major change to our fighting force, and our supplies are all in order.

That was to be expected when the main camp had been ambushed and nothing else. Germain continued, next reporting on the High Britannian Army.

At present, the northern and southern divisions of the High Britannian Army have merged back together. They now number around seventeen thousand.

Germain placed a number of pieces on the map, red representing the Belgarian Army, and blue the enemy. Forty-four thousand against seventeen thousand—Belgaria had an overwhelming numerical advantage.

Latrielle set down the piece he had been playing with. Considering the Second and Seventh Armies’ defeats, even this staggering numerical advantage does not ensure victory. In order to protect the capital, we have no choice but to join all of our forces and launch a coordinated assault.

Germain bolstered Latrielle’s words with a deep, somber nod.

Regis couldn’t deny that, while it was a straightforward plan, it wasn’t a terrible one. While the Seventh Army had been infantry-centered, the forces now at their disposal included five thousand cavalry. By charging the enemy’s flank, they could keep casualties to a minimum.

However, the Empire had already lost thirty thousand soldiers. Were they to lose the majority of their remaining forces—especially the First Army—they would struggle to hold their other war fronts when this war came to an end. After all, High Britannia wasn’t Belgaria’s only enemy. Latrielle was painfully aware of this, and that was precisely why he was so torn.

Sir Regis, do you have another idea?

Regis could sense that something was slightly off. Based on what he knew about Latrielle’s nature, it was at times like these that the wise prince would normally look him dead in the eyes as he spoke, as if staring into his very soul. However, Latrielle instead continued staring at the map. Perhaps that simply went to show how serious the situation was. What’s more, he should have asked Altina for her opinion before bringing the matter to her tactician—at least, that was the proper protocol. Was the Empire so badly cornered that he was willing to ignore basic hierarchy?

That can’t be it. Perhaps... A thought came to Regis’s mind, but he immediately pushed it away. No, I shouldn’t pry into Prince Latrielle for now. As much as it bothers me, I’m in no position to deal with whatever I might find out. I shouldn’t dig around just to sate my curiosity; all it’ll do is make things more dangerous for us. After all, if it turns out the prince is hiding something, there’s a chance that he’ll need to seal some lips to stop the information from getting out... But anyway, enough about that—let’s get our information in order.

The Belgarian soldiers were separated from the capital by seventeen thousand High Britannian troops stationed half a day’s march away, and the reports they had received stated that the enemy hadn’t moved camp yet. As the weather seemed like it