Chương 261: 50. Logistics Before Battles 3

We heard the training grounds before we saw them. Armor clashing, commands rising and falling, the low rumble of dragons, restless horses, the dull thud of arrows in wooden posts — and cutting through all of it, Alvira's voice, sharp enough to physically trim a whole row of archers' ears into shape from across the field. The morning mist had been trampled to nothing, the ground warm underfoot.

The whole field felt like a cauldron with the heat cranked up, and everyone standing around it had entered wartime mode well before I had. The dragon cavalry came into view first. Six hundred of them. A full six hundred Dragon Cavalry arrayed across the main field, armor pressed into a single, low iron-grey, saddles, lances, shields, and harness-lines arranged with a precision bordering on cruelty.

And that was only the first glance — further back, the dragons themselves stood in formation, breathing low, like a storm whose fangs and claws were being forcibly, barely, held in check. At the front stood Lei Lian. Same as ever — a man who looked forged into his own armor — spine straight, voice short and hard, moving down the line confirming equipment and immediate-departure numbers. To one side, Alvira had spread the archers into formation, walking the line, correcting posture.

No whip in her hand — her face and her voice alone did the work. Every archer she looked at straightened on reflex, breath going shallow, as if afraid of throwing off their own aim. Further back, near a makeshift wooden platform, Yozora moved from rider to rider, laying brief, precise blessings on the vanguard. Her motions were light, her voice quiet, but every trace of light that settled seemed to press the pre-battle unease down by another degree. And at the center of it all — Ignicia stood there. Red hair.

Black armor. A cloak. Her spine straight as a banner already on fire. She hadn't deliberately raised her voice, and yet the entire training ground seemed to orbit around her naturally. It wasn't simply because she was a princess, and not simply because she was a fire dragon. It was because everyone present understood one thing with perfect clarity: wherever this army marched in three days would, in the end, come down to wherever she decided to burn. She spotted me from across the field, one brow lifting.

"Finally decided to show up?"

"I was planning a later entrance," I said.

"You know — preserve a little mystique appropriate to the commanding officer."

"You look more like you overslept."... Wonderful. One sentence, and my carefully prepared line burned straight to ash. Very Ignicia. I walked up to her, swept the training ground with my eyes, then let my gaze settle back on her face.

"Did you get the troops?" The corner of her mouth moved. Her expression carried something hard to name.

"More or less." I caught the qualifier immediately.

"That 'more or less' sounds like it's hiding a problem."

"There's a problem," she admitted, arms folding, chin lifting.

"But not a bad one." She tilted her chin toward the far side of the grounds. I followed her gaze and only then noticed — beyond the main field, on the second tier and along the sloping road, another long column had formed. Not cavalry. Not elite soldiers. Cargo wagons. Supply carts. Draft beasts. Coils of rope. Wooden crates. Tent frames. Grain sacks. And a great many people dressed in marching logistics gear. I stared.

"... What is that?" A flicker of pride finally broke through in Ignicia's eyes — the kind she'd stopped bothering to suppress.

"I ended up compromising with the old man after all. I took the command seal." If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. My brow lifted.

"Didn't you say you were requisitioning troops, not taking whatever he handed you?"

"Exactly." She said it like the most obvious thing in the world.

"Which is why I didn't requisition those two half-dead combat battalions." She raised one finger and pointed at the absurdly long column.

"I requisitioned four thousand from the Logistics Corps."

"... Huh?" She watched my expression, and her mood visibly improved.

"I asked for the rally point," she said.

"Three Rivers Fortress."

"And then?"

"And then I sent the supply column ahead." Her tone was as flat as someone mentioning they'd moved a cup across a table. But staring at that column — already breaking into marching formation — my brain went blank for two full seconds. Four thousand from the Logistics Corps. Not troops meant to charge a line. The flesh and bone that let an army actually get there, fight there, and hold what it took. Grain. Fodder. Spare bowstrings. Dragon gear. Tents. Blacksmiths. Repair tools. Field kitchens. Wounded transport.

Bridge timber and rigging. Every single thing a mobile expeditionary force hates thinking about, and would completely fall apart without. I stood there a long moment before finally managing: "... How is this a compromise? This is you walking straight around the useless part and hauling off an entire fleet of exactly what we actually needed." Ignicia gave a short hum, red hair snapping in the wind.

"I told you. I went to requisition troops. Not to beg." Beside us, Jessi let out a low whistle.

"Beautifully played, Your Highness." She grinned like she'd just watched someone take the rulebook apart in front of the King and hand it back reassembled.

"You call the two thousand combat troops dead weight, then turn around and pull four thousand logistics personnel out from under him. Honestly, I'm starting to feel sorry for His Majesty."

"That's his problem," Ignicia said, cold.

"What I need is whatever gets this army to Three Rivers Fortress without starving to death halfway there." Alright. I concede. Yesterday I'd wondered whether she'd hold the line all the way and walk away with nothing. Turns out my imagination had been too small. It wasn't that she didn't want troops. She simply refused whatever would slow her down. What she'd taken instead was a heavier, messier, and far more decisive card — the supply line.

And once a supply column starts moving, the question stops being will the princess deploy and becomes this expedition is already in motion. Watching that Logistics Corps already forming up to depart, I realized my read on this princess, as of last night, had probably still been too conservative. She didn't only burn. She calculated.

"So," I turned back to her.

"What about our side?" Ignicia raised a hand, sweeping it across the field.

"Lei Lian leads six hundred Dragon Cavalry as vanguard and main combat spine."

"Alvira runs the archers through one more full drill. Whoever can keep pace marches with us in three days."

"Yozora stays with you — spell reinforcement and curse stabilization."

"Jessi—""I know, I know." Jessi raised a lazy hand, as if checking herself in for roll call.

"Scouting, pathfinding, and setting fires behind enemy lines when necessary. The dirty work always did suit me best."

"You show remarkable self-awareness," Alvira called from across the field, without turning her head. Jessi grinned instantly.

"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't one."

"See? There it is again." Jessi spread her hands toward me.

"Every woman in this unit is more difficult than the last. My sympathies, Commander." I was quiet a moment. Then, with complete honesty: "I've known that for a while." Ignicia's gaze snapped to me immediately.

"Do you have a complaint?"

"None at all," I said, fast.

"I just think the Yanxia Empire is, in a sense, genuinely to be pitied — having to face all of you at once." At that, even Lei Lian — a man who usually wore a face carved from stone — turned his head away, very slightly. I suspected he was holding something back. Whether it was a laugh or a headache, that was harder to say. Ignicia narrowed her eyes, studied me for two seconds, then settled for a cold exhale and let it go.

"Three days, then," she said.

"The Logistics Corps moves now. Main force leaves the city in three. You've got three days to finish whatever needs writing and send off whoever needs sending. Don't you dare tell me on departure day that you still have an unsigned letter somewhere."

"... Exactly how unreliable am I in your head?"

"Hard to say." Her expression didn't shift.

"You only just got back from the ancestors yesterday. If you told me today you wanted to run, I wouldn't be entirely surprised."

"Your Highness, at this point that's not motivation. That's slander."

"Then bring me results that prove me wrong." Right. That's her. You think she's mocking you — she's actually kicking you forward. You think you're already busy enough, and somehow she still finds room to plant one more boot between your shoulder blades, casually reminding you: since you're not dead, get moving.

I looked out over the whole training ground — armor, orders, the low growl of dragons, and the grind of wagon wheels layering together, like a force that had been scattered pieces was now being bound, by something far clearer than any single command, into one direction. Hans's column was already on the road. The letter to Olivia had already gone. The Logistics Corps was already moving toward Three Rivers Fortress. Six hundred Dragon Cavalry stood ready in formation.

Jessi, Alvira, and Yozora would all march with me. At this point, even pretending there was still a way back felt redundant. I glanced down at the scale on the back of my hand, then looked up at Ignicia, standing in the wind.

"Alright," I said.

"Three days, then." She looked at me, her crimson eyes startlingly bright, catching both the morning light and the will to fight.

"Three days," she repeated.