Ⅷ
Outside West Berlin Castle, beyond the winding moat, Yekaterina Otto von West Berlin stood in a clearing. She had shed her usual long dress for the blue military uniform of the West Berlin Family. Her hand gripped the hilt of the longsword at her waist, and her emerald eyes surveyed the three hundred people before her.
These were all the people she could muster.
They were also absolutely loyal to her.
Weapons and armor had already been distributed.
The warhorses had long since been readied as well.
The great stone behind them had not been shut, and the night wind poured through the opening with a howl.
That sound-
Was like an eagle's cry.
Yekaterina liked that sound.
Without the slightest hesitation, the eldest daughter of the Marquis of West Berlin stepped onto a nearby rock and shouted-
"Dordot Harbor is burning!
Cultists are running rampant!
Foreign enemies are plundering us without restraint!
Who will charge with me?"
The moment her words fell, the lady's three personal maids stepped forward.
Like their mistress, all three had exchanged their long dresses for military uniforms.
They were not merely dashing. They exuded killing intent.
It was the aura of people who had truly killed.
Where had that killing intent come from?
From those who had failed to qualify, of course.
Everyone who had failed had been eliminated.
Everyone who had qualified stood here.
Thus, not a single voice of dissent rose from the three-hundred-strong force. They all took one step forward.
Thud!
At that perfectly synchronized sound, the longswords and flintlocks at their waists jostled, and the warhorses beside them whinnied softly.
A grim, murderous air gathered.
Yekaterina watched the scene with satisfaction.
Her Mystic Art, [Ironblood Slaughter], began to seethe at that moment.
She knew that only a true battlefield