Princess's Struggle for Survival

Duke Grant was captured alive by the enemy. His personal guard unit was all but wiped out in the aftershocks of the battle.

The city gates were thrown widely as wave after wave of Valeria Empire soldiers in standard-issue armor poured in. The few remaining defenders on the walls, faced with such a scene, could only lay down their weapons and surrender to the expeditionary army before them.

Eight hours later, the Valeria Imperial Expeditionary Force had fully occupied Coldwind City. Under Lyra’s command, they opened the military rations Duke Grant had prepared for the defenders, then organized manpower to distribute food in an orderly fashion to the starving residents within the city.

There had originally been no shortage of surrendered soldiers who suspected that the legendary Imperial Regent and Duke Grant were likely cut from the same cloth, arrogant nobles who talked big and never delivered.

Those letters home, brimming with apparent sincerity, might well have been written under duress, and the so-called lenient surrender terms are nothing more than a pie drawn for them to stare at.

But now, seeing the expeditionary army’s actions, much of that suspicion immediately melted away. No matter what Astrid might do to them in the future, at least for the moment she seemed... friendly enough.

Or rather, she was doing better than Grant.

It sounded ironic, but it was the truth. From their perspective, Coldwind City’s new master had at least brought them one full meal, unlike some lofty count who, knowing war was coming, not only bought up all the grain in the surrounding area in advance, but also remained utterly indifferent to whether the people under his rule lived or died.

Staying in the city was waiting to die. With the city falling and the blockade lifted, perhaps there was still a slim chance at survival. In a certain sense, Grant had already lost the people’s hearts.

With Grant temporarily captured, Lyra returned to the ranks to continue directing the necessary changes in city defenses and personnel redeployments. Astrid, meanwhile, was responsible for inventorying supplies and confirming the list of wounded.

Grand Duke Charles was currently stationed in Kaelrent City to the north, and effective control of the main force had been handed over to Lyra, a legendary-tier mage.

She had once had experience in regional defense and drafting detailed operational plans, and she had also been a key commander in the battle of White Maple Town. Although it was her first time mobilizing such a large army on her own, she still handled it with ease.

In Duke Grant’s former study, now temporarily requisitioned by Lyra as a command room, an aide hurried in and reported the grain distribution to the pink-haired girl in armor.

"Lady Lyra, as per your orders, the soldiers have set up grain distribution points in the city center. They’re also processing the military rations at full speed. Black bread and gruel soup are currently being handed out to the residents."

"But... some soldiers don’t seem to understand your approach..."

Military orders were absolute. No one dared disobey Lyra’s commands, but that didn’t stop a portion of the troops from feeling dissatisfied with her decision.

They had fought like hell to take Coldwind City. The frontline command not only strictly forbade looting, it even handed out spoils that ought to belong to the Empire to the city’s residents.

"What are they saying?" Lyra asked.

The aide paused for a few seconds, then answered in a low voice.

"The soldiers just feel that right after taking an enemy city, the main force hasn’t even had time to rest, and there’s been no reward at all, yet they have to immediately prepare food for these enemies."

"Some grumbling is... unavoidable."

Differences in the amount of information one could access often meant differences in perspective. Those soldiers, who had spent days on the frozen tundra and repeatedly brushed past life and death, truly couldn’t understand Lyra’s decision.

Especially since some of them had participated in the defense of White Maple Town. They already had little goodwill towards the Kingdom of Velys that had taken the initiative to start the war. Even though Astrid hadn’t deliberately stoked hatred in domestic opinion, they still had a lump of anger stuck in their chests.

After hearing it, Lyra could understand their indignation. She, too, had served in the army. She had more or less listened in on plenty of soldiers’ conversations and knew how suffocating the mind could become under constant pressure.

Every day brought farewells between the living and the dead. No one knew when they might die. If their mental state remains good, that would be the strange thing.

That they could strictly obey military discipline and carry out every order she issued, without any soldier–civilian conflict breaking out to this point, was already no small feat. Lyra even felt it was likely thanks to her beloved, His Highness the Regent, who had personally accompanied the campaign.

"I understand," Lyra replied softly, then followed the aide in a low voice.

"Tell them first: this war isn’t over. Once the grain in the granaries has been distributed, I’ll regroup the troops."

"Then we’ll discuss merits and rewards, slaughter cattle and sheep, and treat the entire army."

Hearing her words, the aide nodded. He pushed open the door and had just stepped out when he immediately stopped at the doorway and called respectfully:

"Your Highness the Regent..."

"No need for formalities. Go do your work."

"Yes."

As a noble clear female voice drifted into the room, Lyra lifted her head and saw a silver-haired beauty in a night-sky-colored gown walking in with measured steps. The skirt hem, stirred by the cold air, carries wafts of fragrance. Those bewitching red eyes looked at her gently.

"I’ve checked the wounded data. This operation was a sweeping victory."

"As expected of the Valeria Empire’s bulwark, Lyra Beckett’s command was exquisite."

Not only had they captured Duke Grant alive, they had also kept survivors within a fully acceptable range. The only regrettable flaw was that they had used too many elemental crystal stones.

Hearing Astrid’s words, Lyra blinked, her lashes fluttering, and let out a small breath.

"As long as the casualties are low."

Successfully taking Coldwind City was already an enormous victory, enough to be recorded in the annals of the Valeria Empire. Lyra’s greatest worry previously had been too many wounded, which would affect subsequent operations.

After all, in the latter half she had had no chance to keep her eyes on the entire battlefield, her full attention had been devoted to blocking Grant.

Astrid blinked as well. Her legs, clad in smooth black stockings, crossed as she leaned against the edge of the desk. Seeing the trouble in Lyra’s eyes, she asked warmly:

"What is it, Lyra..."

"You just won a beautiful victory. Why do you still look so down?"

Facing the person who would be her other half in the future, Lyra hid nothing. She repeated what the aide had reported.

"This can’t be left unresolved."

If they kept winning, perhaps that small dissatisfaction wouldn’t matter. But the moment the Valeria expeditionary army’s momentum suffered a setback, those buried landmines could explode at any time.

Astrid understood the danger as well. Resting her cheek on one hand, she answered softly:

"Didn’t you already tell the aide to go soothe them?"

Leaping over her, the Regent, by promising to reward the army in advance would only mean Amalia, far away in the imperial capital, would have to put in even more effort to funnel resources to the front.

"But I don’t think it’s enough," Lyra replied.

Carrots and sticks could solve an urgent problem for a time, but in the end they needed a way to guide that resentment out.

At that, Astrid nodded slightly in agreement.

"Better to guide than to block. Since you’ve promised to reward the soldiers, then take advantage of the merit awards and use that clever mind of yours to say a few words."

"Me?"

Clever mind?

Seeing the pink-haired knight’s puzzled expression, Astrid spoke gently.

"Aren’t you very good at giving military speeches?"

"I’ve heard you several times. Your ability to stir emotions is excellent. Why wouldn’t it work this time?"

Perhaps because she always seemed a little clumsy in front of Astrid, hearing that unquestioning trust made Lyra press her lips together and say softly:

"You mean... I should explain?"

Explain why they had to enforce discipline so strictly, to prevent vile acts like arson, murder, and looting.

"Mhm~"

"But... I didn’t even write a draft..."

Being suddenly asked to speak would make anyone nervous.

Seeing Lyra’s hand rubbing the sword hilt, Astrid’s pink lips parted.

"Does something like that need a draft?"

"It doesn’t?"

"Of course not. Why you’re doing this, just tell them directly."

They had led troops into the Kingdom of Velys under the banner of a just army. If they allowed their forces to plunder the common people freely, committing every evil under the sun, how would they be any different from the kingdom’s greedy nobles?

"Not everyone is willing to let go of hatred. Even someone as gentle as Lyra wants her enemies to pay a price."

"Since it’s unavoidable, guiding that hatred towards the right people is not necessarily a bad solution."

"..."

"I... can I really do it?"

"You can, my dear."

Astrid took Lyra’s hand from the sword hilt, speaking softly.

"Just do what you’ve done in the past."

Logic, charisma, prestige in the army, Lyra exploited none of them now.

Feeling Astrid’s touch, Lyra slightly bit her lip and looked at their intertwined hands. Astrid leaned in and kissed her forehead, then spoke again.

"If I weren’t here, you would still do it."

Lyra lifted her gaze. In her blue eyes was Astrid’s reflection.

"You really trust me that much..." she murmured.

"Mmm~"

Astrid hummed lightly, narrowing her red eyes as she spoke tenderly.

"Lyra, did you forget what you told me about the Trial of the Sword of Light?"

About morality and justice, courage and righteousness. Back then, Lyra had felt it was wrong, so she tried to change it.

"Now the opportunity is right in front of you."

Hearing that, Lyra recalled what Astrid meant. A glimmer crossed her watery eyes. Her fingers interlaced with Astrid’s, clasping tightly.

"...I understand."

Receiving her answer, Astrid charmingly. She leaned against the desk, silver hair spilling down along the skirt hem, letting the wooden edge press against the smooth black silk and form a slight indentation.

Lyra had always been resilient and pure. Sometimes all it took was the lightest nudge for her to know what to do.

"There are many residents waiting in the city to receive relief grain. It’ll take a while."

"Astrid wants to..."

"Exactly. We’ve been so busy that we haven’t even given our most important captive duke his share of the stage."

Astrid tapped her red lips lightly. A chill surfaced on her bewitching face.

"It’s time to make him spit something out."

***

Twenty minutes later, Duke Grant, sealed within layered magical circles s and wearing an anti-magic collar, was carried in by the head maid.

In the earlier battle, faced with Lyra’s assault, Grant had exhausted every effort and still couldn’t escape. Pressed into a hurried defense by the Sword of Light, he had been forced to meet the attack head-on. As an Crusader specialized in stealth, Elise’s fighting style wasn’t as simple and direct as Lyra’s; it leaned more toward secrecy and finesse.

While Grant’s attention had been fully on Lyra, the head maid was struck decisively, stripping him of all equipment. With mental power compressed to the extreme, she severed the magical defense that protected his whole body, including, but not limited to, key meridians and the crucial muscles for limb movement, directly resulting in Grant now thanks to lying on a patient’s stretcher just to be transported here to see Astrid.

Of course, a Crusader’s physical constitution could actually support recovery from such injuries.

But first, he was already wearing an anti-magic collar, making it difficult to draw on mental power while weakened. Second, a peer-tier powerhouse was watching him at all times.

Anyone with a brain would know that the moment he tried to recover on his own, the dark-haired, mature woman in the black-and-white maid outfit would, without hesitation, replicate every one of her previous "treatments" in the dungeon, complete and exact.

That would be asking for misery.

Seeing Grant on the stretcher, Astrid crossed one leg and spoke calmly.

"Duke Grant of the Kingdom of Velys’s borderlands. The first to answer the king’s call to declare war on the Valeria Empire, and the one who swung the first sword at the garrison of the Liya Tower Fortress."

"This should be our first meeting?"

Grant lifted his eyes. Not far away stood a beauty in a black dress, signature silver hair and red eyes, delicate features, and a noble aura that seemed inborn. In an instant, he understood who she was.

Astrid Calliste, the Valeria Empire’s Regent, and the expeditionary army’s number one figure.

He had only heard of Astrid’s beauty before, rumored to be the empire’s greatest beauty personally chosen by the former Valeria Emperor, Hibbort. Seeing her today, she was indeed nothing like those vulgar, powdered faces.

Momentarily dazed by her beauty, Grant didn’t forget his circumstances. Coldwind City had fallen. He had been restrained. Besides the black-haired maid at his side, the blue-eyed knight standing near Astrid was also someone he could never afford to provoke.

"I’ve long heard your name. Your Highness Astrid truly is as beautiful as the rumors say."

Hearing the flattery in Grant’s words, Astrid folded her arms and let out a low "Oh," her red eyes holding not the slightest hint of amusement.

"It seems Duke Grant’s intelligence network is fairly competent, pity you used it in the wrong place."

He hadn’t understood the gap in military strength between them, had vainly tried to resist the Empire alone, and had misjudged Velys’s internal situation, believing he could still wait for reinforcements.

"When I first arrived at the border city, Duke Grant relied on strong troops and high walls and refused to surrender, insisting on fighting to the bitter end."

"Did you ever think you’d die here today?"

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