The healer brushed the sweat off his brow and bowed. "Your Highness," he said, exhaustion dulling his tone, "What is it?"
His apprentice, a kid who couldn't be more than 13, sent the old man a panicked look and jabbed his teacher with his elbow. The old man glared at the boy for a moment before turning back to her.
Jessica ignored the byplay. A tinge of sympathy flared. The healer looked as tired as she felt.
This man was saving hundreds of lives. The people who were working under his leadership were healing thousands. She couldn't bring herself to expect much more than that.
"I need an update," she said, glancing at the young children who were resting on makeshift beds. They were inside the wooden structure she'd created with Itsuki's help two hours ago. The building was large but spartan. Nothing more than basic amenities and minor comforts for the patients. Her healers were overloaded. She'd seen the massive lines of people with problems outside.
At least they'd gotten to the point that they could afford to work on the less useful.
Children with low levels closer to where the Entity had manifested had died. Adults with levels below 10 had suffered, but a bit of healing got them on their feet.
Those who already had distorted those with some form of mental illness or issue further. The medics had sedated them after those poor people had started to hallucinate.
She'd prioritized those who the medic could easily treat.
A cruel choice.
One that had gotten more low leveled people killed. It was better than having those who could be saved with ease die. If her healers had focused the youngest first, more children would live, but more would perish.
Her idea was sound. Logic unassailable.
It didn't change that she had the blood of a mountain of children on her hands.
Jessica wasn't sure why was this so different. She'd exterminated House Roma and many, many others. Back then, she'd hardly bothered to care.
Was it Malty's waning influence? The fact that her senses let her feel each death. Their mana diminishing with each passing second until they vanished?
The old man sighed, dismissed his apprentice and waved his hand. He directed her and little Azure, who was her bodyguard, outside the room. Jessica cast a wind barrier once they were out of the way. Her casting drew a sharp look from the healer, "To make sure we are not overheard," she said.
The white-haired man nodded after a moment. He paused for a moment before starting. "We're overwhelmed," he said, "The potions that you've supplied help, but we'll need a lot more."
Tired. Defeated and irritated.
She understood his emotions. The healer was a nobleman, but one who took his duties as a healer as his priority. He wanted to be able to save people.
Jessica had nothing to offer.
The Wave was to arrive in five hours. They'd already given too much to the healing stations. The Princess cursed Takt and the Entity and Faubrey for the hundredth time.
The destruction of the castle had ruined a major stockpile of medicine and equipment. Not all, or even 30%, but every little bit mattered.
"I see," she said, "Give me another day or two. I'll see what I can arrange."
Mana was dropping to nothing for hundreds in the city. It was a slow process, but the pace made it worse. Jessica would find herself busy with one matter or the other. Pause for a moment and find that someone had perished. She knew no names or faces, but every death that she could stop was a wound. Some people were dying. People she could save, but her mana was low and she needed it at its best.
Medea might return. The Wave would be worse than ever considering Motoyasu's death. The Dragon Emperor Core could twist Gaelion.
She needed every fraction of power she could muster, but that meant taking more risks.
Risks that meant being cautious in other aspects even if it cost the lives of those who had little value.
Jessica couldn't consider the injured her priority. The border defences, the barriers around the capital and her armies mattered more.
War was inevitable.
She didn't dare waste her stockpile.
The guilt ate at her regardless.
These were her people.
It didn't matter.
The healer nodded with a small smile, "Thank you, Your Highness," he said, "It's appreciated."
Jessica nodded and let out a sigh. She was unable to muster the energy to present herself or bother with the act she kept up.
She wanted to sleep.
Raphtalia had suggested it, but Jessica hadn't been able to even consider it. Her level and some potions were keeping her going.
It was enough for now.
"Keep your work up, Master Healer," she said, "and be certain to send me regular updates."
The man nodded, "I will," he said before the apprentice burst into the small corridor they were speaking in. Jessica dropped the air barrier.
"Teacher!" he said panting, "Miss Bell said she needed you-"
The master healer shot her a glance. Jessica nodded and he darted away with a speed that she hadn't expected from someone his age.
Levels were incredible.
Azure, who had been quiet for the entire conversation, "Where do we go now, Malty?" she asked.
Jessica turned to the blue-haired Filolial. They started to walk, "We need to check on the homes we made," she said, "Then, the barriers and the walls again."
The young lady nodded with a grim determination that only amplified her cuteness.
Jessica almost smiled.
They walked past the room where the Head Healer struggled with a patient.
It was a child.
The Princess almost walked past the room. The sight of the scared parents anxiously looking into the room froze her.
It was strange not to see them bow or greet her.
The man and woman wore well-worn clothing. Labourers of some kind. She recognized their fear. The horror of what could happen.
The Cane was glowing before she could think.
The child began to heal. Her Cane's enhanced healing eradicated the complex internal damage that the Entity had caused.
Jessica grimaced and darted past the room.
Coming here was foolish. She should have asked someone to do the job.
That one healing spell had cost her ten times more mana than the air barrier. Internal injuries of complex organs always cost more and worked poorly.
She knew that she had only improved that kid's chances by a little bit.
It was possible that he'd still die.
Her actions had been foolish. If she failed to stop the Wave, many more would die. The Wave would not occur here, but she'd seen the effects on Seaetto.
Jessica couldn't help reaching out using her senses.
Joy mingled with guilt.
The boy was stable.
One life she'd saved.
It didn't change the fact that she'd decided to let thousands of others die.
Jessica's mana flared in tune with her emotions. She was angry. At Takt, his soldiers, but mostly at the Entity.
But that wasn't what burned.
It had been her actions that had freed the Entity.
No matter what she did, vengeance wasn't likely. Not with something like that as her enemy.
Jessica couldn't help but feel that her dying citizens were a prediction of her future. She remembered the oppressive feel of the Entity. It had negated her attack. The way it had reached out and ruined thousands by communicating was horrific.
Surviving that thing would be a miracle.
Winning was impossible.
They were all going to die in this hellhole unless she went all out.
No more restraints. No more holding back.
A surge of pity rose.
She hoped that it was possible to summon the Spear Hero without losing all Four Heroes.
Itsuki, Naofumi and Ren would not have long lives otherwise.
The Experimentation would have to speed up. Soul Magic had touched her and taken a weapon from Takt.
It had been the reason that Takt had been able to use multiple weapons.
A vicious expression absent of anything kind rose.
It was a good thing that entire nations full of test subjects existed.
The depth of power that the Heroes possessed never failed to surprise him.
Destruction and Creation. Healing and Killing. They surpassed the best with casual ease. Not even those that the Heroes blessed could match their strength.
The invasion force had ravaged the capital.
Its walls pierced. Thousands killed and hundreds injured. More would die over the coming days. Already the death toll was in the tens of thousands. Worst of all was the loss of the Spear Hero.
Yet, Jacob Cromwell only held awe in his heart.
Princess Malty had restored the walls minutes after repelling the invasion. She had recreated a fair fraction of the defences and set up massive healing zones. She'd even taken the time to set up basic housing for those who'd lost everything. The Princess had then proceeded to hand him the keys to a large structure for administration!
It was only a handful of hours after an attack by an enemy Hero, a Dragon and an army who rode flying devices.
The attack would have annihilated them.
It should have destroyed them.
Cromwell could imagine no force in this world that would have survived that army.
Beneath the false confidence, he'd shown the Heroes and the army there had only been terror.
He knew better now.
They'd won.
A costly victory, but one that proved that he'd been right to support the Princess. His lady stood far beyond her father at his best.
Still, it unnerved him to see her tired. He'd gotten used to her doing the incredible things with ease.
The Princess spoke to the Knight she'd left in charge of the food distribution to those who had lost their homes or families. Her focus was absolute. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her Highness' hair wasn't up to the standards of perfection he saw every day.
But those were minor variables.
Her mana was more oppressive than ever.
A pressure that forced everyone in the vicinity to obey. To kneel. Even the old knight, whom he knew, believed in the greatness of humanity didn't dare defy her orders. They ignored the Filolial Queen at the Princess' side.
"Princess," he called out, before stepping towards her. Her Highness nodded.
"Cromwell," she said, "Have you finished your tasks?"
He bowed. "As per your orders," he said, offering her a piece of paper. "A new department has been set up to track the families of those who were lost. We will find out the type of jobs they performed, their ages and the status of their families. Regarding the prisoners of war"
Cromwell found himself stumbling over the terminology that the Princess used. He certainly hadn't expected the ruthless young royal to bother with the dead, but there was no point questioning her. He'd been the one who'd thought the defences she'd set up as too much. The war an unlikely possibility.
Aultcray had been wrong. His Majesty, may the one true God bless his soul, had been an amazing commander. His daughter surpassed him as a politician. Her Highness' predictions had proven to be true in most cases. Only enemy action by someone who matched her had triggered this loss.
He hesitated to speak.
The Princess' mana stayed even and oppressive. The blue-haired Filolial at her side studied him with a frown. Her wings twitched. His guards began to sweat.
Cromwell almost joined them. He'd seen the attacks the small being could unleash.
The Princess waved her hands, he felt the surge of mana, "Air barrier," she explained, but her tone was icy. "Speak."
"Mirellia Melromarc was one of the instigators of the attack," he said, then continued after the flare of mana staggered him. "Many prisoners have confessed that she was the main planner alongside a person they have named Lady Nellisen."
The young filolial tugged at Her Highness' robes. "Malty," said the blue-haired girl, "You're called Melromarc too right?"
The Princess calmed down and controlled her mana. The weight was lifted off them. Princess Malty sighed then nodded, "She's my mother," said Her Highness, "Cunning as always. She escaped. How?"
Cromwell shook his head, "We are uncertain," he admitted, "Your Dragon was devastating. His sheer power and invisibility made him impossible to defeat. Many airships attempted a retreat, but none succeeded. We have confirmation that the remains of the head of their fleet were among the first that the dragon struck down."
"A Hero with teleportation," said Her Highness with a mask of fury. "Or never having been here in the first place. An illusion to fool her allies. Hell, she might have detected my arrival somehow and decided to leave once she saw the battle turning."
Cromwell said nothing. His guards flinched at the sudden temperature spike.
Little Azure frowned before hugging the Princess.
The Princess' rage vanished. She stared at the young filolial before sighed and patting the girl's head. "Thank you," she said, before turning to Cromwell, "You've done well. Have you learned much about the Prince and his harem? Or any technologies they trained the soldiers to use?"
"I have," he said, "but it seems almost fantastical. I'm compiling the notes to ensure that we have at least three independent sources."
"Timeframe?" she asked, thankfully not disappointed.
"3 days," he said, "but it will be hard for me to be certain of anything."
"Expected. You have my gratitude," she said. "The information you're gathering could make or break our strategy. Give me the preliminary reports in 3 days, but don't stop verifying the information. You'll have more prisoners to interrogate rather soon."
He swallowed. Memories of mud and muck and blood. The smell of bowels emptying themselves and burned flesh filled his mind.
For a moment he was back on the battlefield.
"War," he said, feeling the weight of the word. "It's inevitable now."
"A World War would be more accurate," said the Princess dryly. "Siltvelt, Q'ten Lo, Faubrey and all their vassals are concerns. I do not know if they are genuine allies or if they worked together for this one operation, but their power is undeniable. If Shieldfreeden joins them then only Zeltoble is left. We need that country on our side or at least for them to stay out of this war."
Jacob Cromwell was no coward. He was no fool.
The Princess despised slavery.
She'd set herself and two Heroes against it and killed hundreds of high born for it. Freed thousands of slaves and changed their lives. Many of her most powerful assets like the Bow Hero and that Raphtalia girl hated slavers.
Zeltoble would burn if the Princess had any say in it.
For her to suggest something diplomatic about them was both unnerving and reassuring.
"Must I prepare a delegation?" he asked.
"Not yet," she said, "Get me a profile on the country and their leaders. I have yet to decide my approach about them."
He paused. Fear spiked. "Your Highness," he warned, "Zeltoble always has...unusual techniques."
"Do you imagine someone worse than the entity we faced today?" she asked with an amused smirk, "Rest assured. Despite Motoyasu's loss that nation has no great advantage over us. They will burn if I desire it, kneel if I choose to manage it or be left to the side if I deem it wise."
Her fatigue had fled. The Princess reminded Cromwell of Her Majesty strongly. He found himself looking for the fan.
Her confidence was terrifying but inspiring.
She was right. Faubrey and the Siltvelt invasions were unusual.
Zeltoble held no such advantages.
It would be wiser to remove them from the equation if it was possible. He had to think in terms of the power Melromarc now held. The impossibilities that the Princess could perform.
Normally, risking Zeltoble's involvement in the war was foolhardy. It would lead to Melromarc's self-destruction as every neutral nation was given reason to move against his country. That message would be inverted if the nation was destroyed or conquered. Then, Faubrey and Siltvelt would find their vassal's hesitating.
The smaller nations that those greater behemoths had pressed into service would lack the protection needed to survive the Princess' fury. It would make a diplomatic approach possible or force Faubrey to devote significant resources to corralling their forces after their defeat here.
He nodded and they spoke for another minute on the minutiae.
Once he left her presence the pieces started to fall in place.
She didn't want to merely rule this one nation.
The Princess wished to rise beyond that.
Why else would she set her sights on Zeltoble? Why else would she build this large an army?
She must have suspected the rising scale of power. Perhaps not the incredible power that Prince Takt held. But she had known much of Q'ten Lo and Siltvelt to be able to counter the border invasion.
Lord Jacob Cromwell would rise alongside her.
It was fitting.
The father had raised him from a minor noble. The daughter would place him at the top of the world.
