"It's been a while, Captain Liver!"
"It certainly has. Let's get the Imperial Guard inside first."
Lancer had dismounted well before reaching the fortress gate, personally approaching Liver to greet him. Liver, for his part, didn't put on airs; he genuinely liked this younger comrade. Strong, courageous, and above all else—absurdly hard to kill.
"General Najenda, good to see you again."
"It's been a while."
With the greetings quickly exchanged, they entered the fortress. Lancer suggested going directly to the conference room, which no one opposed. After all, logistics would handle the Imperial Guard's accommodations anyway.
"Captain Liver, what's the current situation here? General Budo showed me some reports, but those were outdated by the time I left."
"The situation isn't great," Liver replied grimly. "The fortress originally had a standing garrison of five thousand. After the tribes began their raids, we lost over five hundred men from combat alone. General Najenda and I later brought in another five thousand from regional armies as reinforcements, but nearly eight hundred have already dropped out due to climate-related illnesses. Those remaining have finally adapted somewhat, but at best, we're looking at about seventy percent effectiveness. And that's without factoring in how regional troops generally underperform compared to the Border Army, so..."
Liver left the sentence unfinished, but his meaning was clear. The North Fortress could barely afford to defend, let alone launch any pursuit. Even chasing down scattered tribes carried the risk of ambushes—one misstep, and the fortress itself might be compromised.
"Don't these northern tribes have any weaknesses?" Lancer asked sharply.
"They do, and quite a few," Liver said, nodding. "On paper, snowy mountains might not seem as brutal as a desert, but reality begs to differ. Control the oasis in a desert, and you thrive—but out here, every single tribe, big or small, suffers constantly. It breeds fierce rivalries. Yet somehow, this time they've united under a common cause. Another critical point is their supplies: I suspect someone is secretly providing resources to these tribes. But every major route is sealed tight, every hidden path closely monitored. By rights, nothing should get through to them."
Lancer's expression hardened. He'd assumed the northern situation would closely mirror that of the western desert, but clearly, he'd underestimated the difference.
"What about launching a full-scale offensive?" he pressed. "I remember these northern tribes don't have large numbers. Yes, casualties might rise, but sitting here and waiting for attrition feels like slow suicide."
He deliberately avoided mentioning the rebellion that Honest had secretly incited in the south. That information was tightly controlled, known only by a select few in the Capital and the southern border regions. There was no need to reveal his true objectives here.
But before Liver could reply, Najenda spoke up.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Our greatest loss came precisely because we pursued them outside the fortress. The tribesmen sacrificed their wounded and elderly as bait, then triggered an avalanche..."
She didn't need to elaborate further. The implication hung heavily over the conference table. The room fell silent, only broken by the sound of tense breathing. As the silence lingered, Lancer's gaze swept over Liver, who sat as usual with arms folded. Suddenly, inspiration flashed through his mind.
"Captain Liver, I doubt you've spent all this time without a single idea, have you?"
"Nothing concrete," Liver admitted, "but I think we've been looking at this the wrong way."
"How so?"
"Think about it. All of us—myself, General Najenda, even you, Lancer—were dispatched here specifically to deal with the northern tribes. But until recently, this area was mostly peaceful. So when exactly did things change? When someone rallied these scattered tribes? Or was it when they suddenly found themselves able to freely wage war without concern for supplies?"
Though phrased as a question, the conclusion was obvious.
Even if someone unified these tribes, without stable logistics, they wouldn't dare recklessly wage war. Though fighting on home ground gave them some advantage, in terms of sheer logistics, the Empire clearly had the upper hand. Given the already sparse resources of the snow mountains, a steady supply line seemed impossible.
But even as they understood this key insight, any excitement was fleeting. Knowing the problem didn't mean they had a solution—especially since they still had no idea how the tribes were resupplying themselves.
Yet now that the issue had become clearer, Lancer suddenly had a suspicion.
Ordinarily, supplying them would indeed be impossible—unless there was a Teigu involved.
Most people saw Teigu merely as weapons of war, but their powers extended far beyond combat. Some Teigu, like Lancer's cloak, were straightforward combat tools. Others, like General Budo's, could generate and harness electricity. Esdeath's Teigu manipulated ice. There was no reason to think one couldn't produce resources or bypass supply blockades entirely.
"Perhaps those tribes got hold of a Teigu that can bypass our blockades—or even one capable of generating food directly," Lancer suggested thoughtfully.
"Is that even possible?" Najenda asked skeptically.
If anyone in this room had the authority to doubt, it was Najenda, herself one of the Empire's known Teigu users. In her experience, Teigu primarily possessed destructive powers. Creation was infinitely harder than destruction, and even if someone could personally sneak through, how would they transport mass supplies?
"It's definitely possible. At least, I know of one Teigu capable of it."
Lancer deliberately refrained from naming it. No one questioned further—Teigu, after all, were among the Empire's highest secrets.
"So we still need more intel. Specifically, we need to confirm if it's a matter of secret transportation or local production," Liver summarized.
"Tell the scouts to redouble their efforts," Najenda ordered decisively, "and alert our informants embedded with the tribes. They don't need to do anything risky—just confirm where the supplies originate."
"Yes, General!"
Meetings like this existed precisely to pool insights and information, producing a sharper strategic perspective. Liver's analysis had clarified the core issue; Lancer's broader knowledge suggested possible solutions. Even though the enemy's methods remained unclear, they at least had the outlines of a plan. The gears of the Northern Fortress began turning once more, shaking off the paralysis of previous weeks.
Yet movement wasn't confined only to the North. The Western Fortress was preparing another expedition; the Capital continued its internal purge.
And in the South... a certain man's steps had never slowed.
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T/N: I HAVE NO EXCUSE! EXCEPT THAT UHHH SPYTL! AND ASPENTL! HAS KEPT ME DISTRACTED! THOSE FIENDS! I will try to post more now...
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