CHAPTER 127: THE GENERAL’S RAGE

In time, Dalmasca itself might be absorbed, vanishing in all but name.

The meeting was beginning to stall.

As the evening hour pressed on, they were about to bring the day’s discussions to an end when word arrived that a new guest had come.

Everyone in the chamber turned in shock as the man strode in without hesitation.

It was none other than Gabrant de Beaumont, the Great General of Rosaria.

At the sudden appearance of the warrior famed for his bravery, Jircniv and the others of Dalmasca stiffened and rose to their feet in fear.

The man they held in chains, Dominic, was his own son.

Perhaps he had come enraged over how Dalmasca had treated him.

His sharp blue eyes swept over them with a glare so fierce that all turned pale.

Looking at the Rosaria delegation, who seemed just as shocked as the Dalmasca side, Jircniv trembled with dread.

It felt as if Rosaria might at last be about to declare war.

...

Gabrant stationed the troops he had brought from Arcadia within the grounds of the southwestern fortress and then entered the commander’s office.

The fortress commander was a seasoned man, one who had risen through experience and was known for his calm nature and talent in gathering intelligence.

"So then, how are things on the other side?" Gabrant asked.

Dominic had been leading the operations.

It had been nearly two weeks since he and his forces had entered Dalmasca.

The Knight Order of the Second Division was said to have followed after them.

The commander ordered his adjutant to prepare glasses and some food, while he himself went to the cupboard at the back and took out a bottle of liquor.

"This is a rare liquor, General. Please, have some."

The amber-colored drink poured into the glass gave off a rich fragrance.

With one sip, the strong alcohol burned Gabrant’s throat and spread a deep heat into his stomach.

He lifted the glass slightly and saw the fire from the hearth flicker red against its surface.

The room was rough and stone-built, but it was warm and comfortable.

"This is good. You have fine taste."

"I am honored. By the way, about Rabanastre—word is the Central Magic Association has developed a new tool."

The commander produced a cylindrical object, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

"It’s portable, so it’s small, but inside it holds a magic circle that can send documents instantly to another location. Very useful. Information can be delivered in a heartbeat."

"Oh? That is convenient indeed."

Gabrant picked it up and examined it in his hand. Opening the lid, he felt a faint trace of magical energy. It seemed to be tied to the circle’s function.

"Is such a small amount of magic enough to power it?"

"It’s kept low so it doesn’t draw attention. Because of that, the amount it can send is limited—just short notes or memos."

"If the magic were amplified and the scale enlarged, then larger amounts of material could be sent at any time."

It was, indeed, a remarkable invention.

Until now, the messages had only been carried by hawk or swift horse, which always took time.

Transfer magic circles could move even people, but those required enormous magical energy, skilled magicians, and much time to set up.

For a tool like this to manage instant transmission was truly useful.

"We’ve used it several times already. This morning, another report came through."

The commander’s voice wavered as if weighing his words.

Gabrant motioned for him to continue.

After swallowing several times, the man finally forced himself to speak.

"The Royal Restoration faction has succeeded in seizing power. That went well. But Captain Dominic—your son—he... his magic burst out of control."

Gabrant shot to his feet.

His chair crashed over with a loud thud and the glass spilled its liquor across the table.

His clenched fists trembled and the more details he heard, the more a growl rose from his throat.

"That fool! To be deceived by some boy and then to disgrace himself like this!"

It was all because of that boy. That page had driven Dominic mad.

Gabrant wasted no time. He summoned his adjutants at once. He had four of them, and three were magicians. He ordered those magicians to prepare a transfer magic circle.

Transfer circles were among the most difficult forms of sorcery. Few people could use them. Not only did they demand advanced skill to arrange the formulas and construct the circle, they also required vast magical energy and much time.

But Gabrant’s own magic was unusually well-suited for transfer spells. Though he himself could not unfold the magic circle directly, his power could support and interfere with the spell in such a way that it reduced both the magical energy and time required by a tremendous degree.

What would normally take two hours to complete could be done in less than twenty minutes with his aid. And he would still have strength left to help unfold another circle if needed.

This was something great.

Especially on a battlefield where every moment mattered, it could decide everything.

Distance no longer had meaning, as the armies could be commanded freely and reports could be exchanged without delay.

It made it possible to push the tide of battle in one’s favor.

Gabrant’s own tactical skill and martial power had certainly played their part, but this ability had no doubt contributed to his many victories as well.

While he watched the transfer magic circle being prepared, Gabrant’s mind wandered back into the past.

Since the reign of the king before last, the royal family had trusted him deeply.

Even though he held only the rank of viscount, he had been raised to the high seat of Great General.

That king in particular had valued his military achievements so much that he had even given his beloved daughter in marriage to him.

She was the princess who had been praised as the most beautiful woman in the kingdom at that time, a radiant jewel who shone wherever she went.