Konrad could only scratch his head, looking at the maps.
"This is worse than I expected," he summarized. "Who's in charge of this logistics disaster?"
"Charge?" Elders exchanged confused glances.
Nimrod crossed his arms on the other side of the table.
"It's not that complicated. If a village tells us they need food, we send it to them."
"With what? How much, and how often?" Konrad tried to get at least a vague idea.
But the tribesmen had nothing to give. No wonder they had been starving.
"When I tried to send food here and there, our caravans got ambushed." Eyna pointed at the map, face flushing with shame—and she was the only one trying to improve the situation.
Well, Konrad had thirty years of experience packed into an eighteen-year-old body.
Logistics were his element—finally, something he could handle.
"Caravans into mountains? Those trails are suboptimal," he pointed out. "The villages must be small—two, four hundred people at most?"
"You'd abandon them?" Nimrod slammed the table, voice rising with anger.
The prophecy about him bringing ruin echoed in the back of Konrad's mind. The council had forced Nimrod to accept his help, but the man sure resented it.
If his twin would shut up and let him do the heavy lifting, Konrad could've fixed the mess.
"No, but it's overkill. And it offers a juicy target to the Inquisitor."
"What should I have done, Master?" Eyna asked, her purple eyes beaming at him.
"Nothing. Let the rotating troops carry home what they need. And take inventory of their supplies before they come back." Konrad looked at his twin, only to see a puzzled expression.
He sighed.
"You don't keep all five hundred warriors here at all times, right?"
"What use are they to me, if they're not here?" Nimrod scoffed.
"Use?" He turned the question around. "You think they're pawns you can sacrifice?"
"What?! So now I should disband my army, too?" His twin raged, missing his entire point.
Why did he have to make things so hard?
"No. Rotate them," Konrad explained with a sigh. "Divide them into three groups, and each gets to spend two days of the week at home—let them see what they're fighting for."
"B-but, that's only six days, Master," Eyna whispered, looking unsure if she should point out.
"On the extra day, they'll all be here." He nodded. "Undertake larger operations, or exercise—"
"Exercise?" Nimrod asked, more confused than hostile.
Konrad drew a slow breath, fighting to contain his frustration.
"Formations, working together." He could've suggested more if he knew anything beyond supply and basic tactics. "I'm sure they're great hunters—but you need more to wage war."
"And you're going to train them," his twin scoffed, staring down on him.
Fair point. They couldn't see the obvious, and he wasn't likely to change that overnight.
If only he knew someone—
"When Gabrielle returns to Aset, I'll have her send Vargas here."
He wanted the angel out of his hair anyway—after getting the answers he needed. And the guard's captain was not only a great schemer, but he did a decent job with the duke's militia.
At least he could keep an eye on the captain.
"Vargas? There was a man like that fighting by our Lord Erwin's side during the war," an elder noted, sounding nostalgic. So that part of the schemer's story wasn't a lie.
"Anything wrong with him?" Konrad asked, making sure he wasn't making a huge mistake.
The tribesman shook his head. "He fought in the last battle, then helped the survivors escape. A brave mercenary, he was no more than your age back then."
"A mercenary, huh?" The age checked out, but to call him brave?
"And what'll we do with only three hundred men?" Nimrod demanded.
It was more of a power play to show he still made decisions here.
But the elders had already agreed to his plans.
"Scouting. Hit-and-run raids," Konrad suggested. "We don't need a full army for that—small teams that know the terrain. They can gather intelligence and harass the enemy's supply lines."
The tribes had a good grasp on the mountains, but knew nothing about the rest of the duchy.
Nimrod's ambitions far outran his reconnaissance.
"We'll find out if the Church has any more income left. Mines, farms, warn the merchants in the process, and plunder their supply trains." He listed a few options.
"Didn't you say we should never attack the merchants again?" His twin played the idiot.
"Yes. Don't." Konrad nodded. "I'm talking about the Inquisitor's logistics. Halaima has nothing. They have to gather everything from the villages and take stuff there. Same as us."
"And if they retaliate?" an elder interjected, hand shaking.
"It depends on what they do. If they attack here? We leave," he said, causing a ruckus.
Nimrod was the first to protest, slamming his chest and pointing fingers.
"You said you'd be here to protect the tribes, and now you'd run?!"
"Look around you, brother, what do you see?" he asked. Calling him a sibling felt odd, but he had to get used to the truth. "These are tents. No farms, no homes. Nothing to defend here."
"But the council—"
"The council is the people, not a place. Why sacrifice people rather than defending them?"
His comeback had the elders murmur and nod. At least they were listening to logic.
"If they attack the villages—that's a different story. They're difficult to approach, and the troop rotation will help, too. When they're never completely undefended—we can lay ambushes."
Armies marched on their stomachs—starve them, and they won't bother fighting.
Since the elders saw reason, he worked out the details with them. It didn't matter if Nimrod liked it or not—and he sure hoped his twin would learn a thing or two.
Did the spirits want Nimrod to lead? Could Konrad still keep Halaima?
They didn't whisper to him anymore, so he had to figure everything out alone.
And he had more than the spirits to worry about. Gabrielle and Lily were an even bigger issue.
Daylight was fading when he finally left the council's tent behind him. He caught a glimpse of blue silk, Gabrielle sitting in her carriage, but then—she was standing right in front of him.
Konrad had to take a step back, a chill passing through him.
She hadn't teleported—he felt the strange, frozen stillness. She'd stopped time again.
"So what's the verdict, my dear husband-to-be?" she asked, her sweet smile was halfway to becoming a sneer. "What will you command this poor archangel to do as an apology?"
Her voice was dripping with poison and honey—and he couldn't see Lily anywhere.
"Why isn't she keeping an eye on you?" Konrad crossed his arms.
Gabrielle nodded at her carriage, "Summoned to the higher planes."
"She's an angel, too?" That would've explained a lot.
"Angel? Her?" the girl scoffed, playing the offended. "She's a greater demon, and she's so confident, she must've told you already. But it's hard to believe, isn't it?"
True. Even after Konrad faced her powers, he still thought she was a chunibyo.
"So what's her story? I didn't think demons worked with angels."
"No, we aren't friends," she confirmed. "But even if our motivations are different, we all share the same goal."