The wedding and the war — the past month had been relentlessly busy.
News from the front reached me promptly enough, but House Leily and House Darapont had yet to surrender.
House Darapont, above all, had never truly committed to the fighting.
They were content to criticize us in words alone. They had reportedly requested a trade embargo and asked the Emperor to say something — but Central had apparently ignored the letter entirely.
The reason was simple enough. The Emperor, it seemed, had little interest in the matter.
The Crown Prince denounced us loudly, but —
"Wars aren't romantic enough to drag in people who have nothing to do with it."
"Your Grace, the Crown Prince is said to be issuing another statement of condemnation today."
"Let him do as he likes. I couldn't care less."
The Crown Prince's faction was vocal in its criticism of the North, but the reality on the ground told a different story.
Among the marquis houses in particular, the prevailing response was silence — watching the war from a distance without committing to either side.
The conflict had the potential to reshape the balance of power entirely.
In fact, there were quite a few houses in the South that were quietly hoping House Darapont would lose, precisely because they wanted to seize the initiative for themselves.
"What does Dorgon say?"
"He reports that the outcome of the war has already been decided, Your Grace."
"It wasn't settled in a single engagement. Isn't it too early to be that certain?"
"Perhaps, but... half of their main force has been annihilated."
Half of their main force. The soldiers of House Leily and the mercenary companies of House Darapont.
Twelve hundred men in total had set their sights on the North —
and half of them had been lost in the vicinity of Kadana Castle.
Most of the casualties had either fallen in battle or fled.
The remnants were being gathered, but it was slow going.
The North's forces were already eating into House Leily's domain.
"Still, it's taking longer than I expected."
"Nomadic armies and settled ones are rather different, Your Grace. Would it not stand to reason that some adjustment period is needed?"
"That's not it. At this point, it's a matter of politics. That's what I'm saying."
A matter of politics.
House Leily's refusal to surrender was irritating, but the reason was plain enough. Their attitude was simply: hold out, and that's all that needs to be done.
House Darapont kept issuing condemnations and repeating that support was forthcoming — but whether they would actually raise soldiers to rescue House Leily was another question entirely.
"Spring is nearly here."
"The South's provisions will soon run critically short. Though the same could be said of our own forces, Your Grace."
"House Barth and the North will be supplying from both flanks, of course — but House Leily won't have that luxury."
To fight a proxy war, one thing is essential: a firm, reliable promise of support.
At the very least, a guarantee that reinforcements will actually come.
But House Darapont had rushed into this war too hastily, and their preparations had been far less thorough than ours.
The North was always ready for war — the nomads saw to that.
"I'll go myself."
"There is no need for Your Grace to go in person."
"No, I'll go. I'll go and finish it quickly. I'm tired of letting this drag on."
"I will relay the message to Dorgon."
"Tell him I have a few things to attend to first, then I'll be on my way. Have everything ready."
"As you command, Your Grace."
Hexon wrote a letter and dispatched it to Dorgon.
His Grace the Grand Duke is coming in person — expect changes to the command structure accordingly. And bring this to a conclusion as swiftly as possible.
Dorgon decided to receive the Grand Duke at Kadana Castle.
He then issued orders to the North's Main Army and to Darmian in the rear:
Encircle House Leily's main stronghold. Not so much as an ant is to slip through.
"Threaten the stronghold, but do not besiege it. As for Darmian's forces —"
"Darmian's forces are in the process of pacifying House Leily's domain."
"Sir James, this is sufficient. My concern is that they'll burn everything to the ground."
"Shall I call them back to surround the stronghold for now?"
"That would be preferable."
After half of the main force had been destroyed at Kadana Castle, Darmian's cavalry had wheeled their horses in a different direction.
They had been taking towns and fortifications in rapid succession, cutting the enemy off from any outside support.
There was no way to reverse course now.
The Darapont–Leily coalition was being isolated, piece by piece.
Moving elsewhere was not an option either — the North's Main Army stood directly in their path, and the thought of facing it was daunting.
Engaging the North's Main Army head-on meant fighting at nearly a two-to-one disadvantage in numbers.
"And so they've retreated to their stronghold for a siege. The worst possible strategy. What do you make of it, Lord Dorgon?"
"I agree entirely. Though I understand why they made the choice."
There was nowhere else to go.
To prevent being completely encircled, holding the stronghold was the only option left.
That was precisely why Darmian had been given free rein — but circumstances had shifted.
"His Grace the Grand Duke is coming here."
"Th — the Grand Duke?! But — why?!"
"I imagine he has concluded that this war has become pointless to prolong."
"Hmm... I suppose..."
"I think so as well. And surely he wishes to lay eyes on the Traitor himself."
"That — that wretch I'd rather not even name. Andrea... you mean him."
"Do you know anything about him, in truth?"
"Nothing. Have you ever heard of him, Lord Dorgon?"
"Not once in my life."
A Wintergard who had appeared from nowhere. A man called Andrea Wintergard — a name no one had ever heard, a face no one had ever seen.
No one knew what he looked like. No one had heard him speak.
And yet this person was being used as House Darapont's justification for war. It was baffling.
"Then before His Grace arrives, should we take the stronghold by —"
"There's no need. They'll come crawling out soon enough. There's nothing left inside that castle."
"The virtue of a war of attrition."
It was exactly what James and Dorgon had anticipated. House Leily's main stronghold truly had nothing left.
The gates had been sealed shut — no one could enter, and no one could leave.
Which meant conditions inside were growing worse by the day.
"How long can they hold out?"
"At least a month, perhaps."
"If only they hadn't lost all their men at Kadana Castle..."
"Even so, this stronghold cannot be taken by storm. If they simply endure, relief will come — it must."
Something to believe in.
House Darapont would not abandon them so easily.
After all, was this war not essentially a proxy conflict from the very beginning?
The head of House Leily was desperately searching for some political justification that would allow him to extricate himself.
The war was lost.
If he continued to stall, the North's army would pacify every last corner of his domain.
"Then I'll never be able to govern this domain again!"
"House Leily's forces are not so weak as all that, my lord."
"I sent the best soldiers I had on this campaign — what strength is left to speak of?!"
The head of House Leily had made an accurate assessment.
The capable soldiers had already been drawn away, and those left to defend the other holdings were not particularly formidable.
And whether the promised support would actually arrive — that, too, was far from certain.
The commander of House Darapont's mercenary company said little, offering no predictions whatsoever.
"Is there any other strategy left to us?"
"Only to endure..."
A tremendous noise erupted from beyond the castle walls.
It was not the battle cry of enemy soldiers.
It was a roar of cheering — coming from outside the walls, from somewhere beyond.
As the sound gradually swelled and then began to settle, a messenger from House Leily came sprinting in.
"Th — the Grand Duke of the North has arrived! The Grand Duke of the North is here!"
The final stage of the war had begun.
Theodor von Wintergard. Grand Duke of the North, and the sole legitimate heir of House Wintergard.
He had put down the Wintergard Rebellion at a young age,
and had never once left the North — standing guard against the nomads without respite.
And now that Grand Duke had come south.
"The stated purpose is suppressing an internal rebellion..."
"He has no intention of letting us live! Don't you see?!"
House Leily's lord raged, but it was useless.
For the Grand Duke of the North to march south, his purpose had to be unambiguous.
Andrea Wintergard — that very existence was, to the Grand Duke, nothing less than an act of rebellion.
"What do we do now..."
There was no answer.
Beyond the walls, the soldiers were in a frenzy.
The Grand Duke of the North has come! The Grand Duke of the North has come! The chanting went on without end.
At the center of it all stood the Grand Duke of the North, arrived on a black horse.
"Your Grace! Punish me for failing to end this war sooner!"
"Never mind that. It's already over — I came to finish it off."
"That you would come to such a wretched place in person..."
"I stopped by Kadana Castle on the way. It wasn't bad. Now then — let's go end this war."
The Grand Duke turned and made his way unhurriedly toward the command tent.
The soldiers followed in a state of barely contained excitement, though they kept a respectful distance of their own accord, careful not to press too close.
Inside the command tent, James and Dorgon were both seated and waiting.
"They'll know what this means. Send them a letter. Tell them: come out now, and everyone lives."
"At once, Your Grace."
"We'll negotiate the terms, naturally — but tell them that if they surrender now, House Leily's domain will be recognized as it stands."
"That... is a remarkably generous decision, Your Grace."
"It's enough. Whether House Leily surrenders or not makes little difference to us in the end."
The calculations had already been made.
A sense that this war's outcome had thrown the balance of power severely off-kilter.
Even if House Leily were left intact, they would inevitably fall under the influence of House Barth on all sides.
Darmian had thoroughly ravaged the domain.
And House Darapont could do nothing to the North.
There was no way in for them.
Then — this is where it ends.
"Tell them to surrender. Before I bring the North's Main Army down here in full."