When Theresa, in a daze, followed Green’s lead and arrived at the Stables, a sudden urge to turn back rose within her heart.
No, what was I thinking just now, to actually believe a bard?
Even if I was desperate, this is not something to gamble on!
She glanced at Green, who looked completely at ease and not the least bit worried, and a wave of guilt welled up in Theresa’s heart.
I shouldn’t have dragged this commoner into such a mess.
It’s all because I’m so useless.
Clutching tightly the sword in her hand—a symbol of Imperial honor, passed down for centuries—Theresa, for the first time, felt the blade so unbearably heavy, its dazzling edge so blinding she couldn’t look at it directly.
That bard only meant well.
Theresa did not doubt Green’s good intentions. If this had been before the Barbarian Invasion, she might have thought Green simply wanted to earn a little more money.
But with the Barbarian Invasion at hand, the situation this dire, and with Colonel Ryan openly declaring that she, the Princess Commander, was nothing but a jinx…
Green’s position was beyond question now.
At this moment, in the Princess’s heart, Green was simply a pure, kind soul who wanted to encourage her.
“Come to think of it, isn’t Inspiration a bard’s skill after all?”
But this desperate situation couldn’t be overturned with just a morale boost.
Thinking of this, a look of worry crept between Theresa’s brows.
Even so, for the sake of her pride as a princess and the honor of a soldier, she forced down her emotions and managed a faint smile at Green, saying, “Mr. Bard, I’ve thought it over, and I think it’s best if you evacuate first…”
Bang.
Green ignored Theresa’s change of heart and quite naturally pushed open the doors to the Stables.
Hss hss!
Several restless warhorses immediately let out warning neighs, their black hooves stamping hard on the straw-strewn ground with a rustling sound.
“Who’s… ah?” A slouching soldier, devouring a roast chicken, looked up and lazily inquired who was interrupting his meal, but the moment he saw Theresa, he sprang up as if on springs.
“Commander, Commander, ma’am?”
Though there was much gossip about Theresa behind her back, those bold enough to confront her or show disrespect face to face were few—perhaps only the infamous Colonel Ryan among the thousands at the fortress.
As for the rest, they only dared to gossip in secret—the Imperial law was no joke.
The soldier in charge of the fodder snapped his legs together, saluted, and didn’t even dare breathe loudly, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.
It seems my plan will be easier than expected.
Observing the Empire’s strict class system and the near-absolute obedience of subordinates to superiors, Green nodded quietly to himself.
In his view, the finest army is not forged through the whip’s fear, but in the absence of stable morale, making use of the Empire’s deeply rooted and harsh laws was not a bad workaround.
“Thank you for your hard work.” Seeing the soldier’s reaction, Theresa nodded slightly, having no intention of making things difficult for the private.
After learning the situation from Deputy Commander Martin, although she remained extremely dissatisfied with the army’s conduct, she felt a trace of compassion for the rank-and-file soldiers who barely received any pay.
If only I weren’t so useless…
Theresa gripped the Emperor’s Bestowed Sword with unwillingness, recalling certain officers in the fortress who sat idle, flouted the laws and military regulations, and indulged themselves with impunity—she couldn’t help feeling indignant.
“Hoo… calm down.” Theresa muttered to herself in a low voice, “I mustn’t let anger control me.”
Anger is the most useless emotion.
That was what her mentor Martin had taught her.
Don’t let anger control you. As a ruler, as a commander, you must—when necessary—set aside personal feelings and weigh all things by absolute interests.
“How many cavalry do you have in the fortress?” Without bothering about the princess’s tangled thoughts, Green asked the soldier directly.
“You are, um…”
The soldier looked at Green, who wore no uniform, then at the princess behind him. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Well, it’s no big secret. In theory, our fortress Cavalry Squad has five squadrons, which is over five hundred men.”
“But in reality?” Green pressed.
“…”
The soldier didn’t answer right away. He counted on his fingers. “There are maybe two squadrons actually at their posts?”
“Two, so two hundred men…”
Theresa’s face grew even paler. “Isn’t the Cavalry Squad’s supply supposed to be the highest priority?”
Unlike regular infantry, who were recruited from commoners, the Imperial Army’s esteemed Cavalry Regiment was drawn from wealthy citizens or gentry, with many officers being nobles.
Normally, even if the corps was short on supplies, the Cavalry Regiment’s needs were always met first.
But now?
A fully staffed Cavalry Regiment had less than half its men at their posts?
No wonder Theresa couldn’t maintain her composure any longer.
Green, however, was unsurprised.
In fact, since entering the Stables, Green had keenly sensed that these seemingly energetic, healthy warhorses had major issues.
Even the feed for the horses…
He reached into a feed trough and narrowed his eyes.
“Seems like your Cavalry Regiment’s meals are quite sumptuous.”
He gave the soldier a meaningful look and spoke slowly: “I just wonder whether your horses—your dear comrades-in-arms—enjoy similar treatment.”
The soldier’s face changed drastically. He struggled for a while, opened his mouth as if to explain, but in the end said nothing, just hung his head in shame and let Green ridicule him.
“Warhorse rations?” The sharp Theresa immediately sensed something was wrong, squatted down to check on the horses, and her expression darkened further.
The trough was piled high with fodder—it looked perfectly normal.
But with her deep knowledge of horse breeding, Theresa saw through the ruse at a glance.
“Where’s the corn and other grains?”
Theresa grabbed a handful of the fodder, sniffed it, and her face grew even uglier. “And this grass isn’t the tender fodder from special ranches meant for warhorses—it’s inferior stuff from wastelands, isn’t it?”
Corruption.
Yes, in the Empire—especially at frontier fortresses—this was all too common.
But with such crucial wartime supplies?
Theresa realized she had overestimated the bottom line of some fortress officers.
“No wonder I sensed something wrong with the horses just now.”
Green crouched down to inspect the warhorses.
He saw that hooves, which should have been lustrous, were dull, and the horses’ seemingly normal bodies were a little shriveled.
“Their cries just now weren’t because they were wary of strangers.” Green concluded, “They’re sick. Eating too much bad fodder—they’re bound to get indigestion.”
“Was it the Supply Officer’s doing?”
Green reached his verdict.
“Sir, please spare me!” The soldier shuddered, dropped to his knees with a thud, and begged, “I was wrong!”
“I was just wondering—Cavalry Regiment should have ample supplies, so how did it get this bad? Looks like the horses’ grain ended up as food for you and a bit of pocket money for certain bigshots, right?”
Green yawned out of boredom.
“Supply Officer?” Theresa’s eyes flashed as the image of a tall, skinny man with a sly smile surfaced in her mind.
“Summon the Supply Officer at once!”
Theresa drew the Emperor’s Bestowed Sword again, her eyes burning with rage.
“Right away!” The private, relieved, dashed off at lightning speed.
“Lawless, absolutely lawless.” Theresa paced furiously within the Stables, not caring if her clothes got smeared with manure.
Bang, bang, bang.
Before long, several figures hurried to the Stables.
“Reporting to Commander, ma’am.”
A languid voice sounded as a tall, skinny man in a wrinkled uniform, eyes flashing with slyness, saluted Theresa with a bright smile, as if completely unconcerned by his nominal superior’s wrath.
“You pocketed quite a sum, didn’t you?”
Theresa asked without hesitation.
“Yes, and no.” The skinny Supply Officer smiled faintly, unhurried. “It’s true I diverted some cavalry supplies for other uses, but only because the Army Rations were cut. I had no choice. Your Highness, perhaps you don’t know, but many of our soldiers’ families are starving…”
“Your Highness?” Halfway through, the Supply Officer was interrupted by a thunderous voice. Colonel Ryan was glaring angrily at Theresa. “Why haven’t you evacuated yet?”
Theresa ignored Ryan and glared at the Supply Officer.
“Your Highness.” At that moment, Green spoke up. “According to military law, what’s the penalty for embezzling supplies and selling Army Rations?”
“Mutiny. Punishable by death.” Theresa replied instinctively.
“Then execute him and restore order.” Green whispered in her ear. “I already have a complete operational plan, but to carry it out, we must first restore morale.”
He told Theresa his plan.
What?
Theresa stared at Green in shock—she never expected this seemingly ordinary bard to come up with a plan that actually seemed workable.
Of course, a plan is just a plan, but…
Green was right.
“Alright.” Theresa raised her sword and advanced on the Supply Officer step by step.
The Supply Officer, who had been nonchalant, now sensed something wrong and backed away repeatedly. Glancing at Colonel Ryan, he suddenly shouted, “Colonel, you—you tell them, don’t I have a point?”
But the colonel, who usually opposed Theresa, stayed silent for a long while, then asked him, “Did you really embezzle supplies?”
“Yes, and so what?”
Feeling the Princess Commander’s murderous intent, the Supply Officer broke into a sweat. “Don’t forget, my brother-in-law is the Governor’s Nephew, and the Tax Guild Chairman. If you kill me, you’ll never get another donation!”
His words seemed to hit a nerve. Colonel Ryan immediately fell silent and turned to Theresa, sighing helplessly.
“Your Highness, it’s a shame…”
Theresa blinked. She wasn’t stupid—she understood something from their conversation and hesitated.
But to leave this tumor in the army, even if it means getting temporary funding…
“Your Highness, as a bard, I once heard a story.”
At that tense moment, Green began, “In an ancient land, a small nation was invaded by a great power. The king called his ministers for counsel but found no way out, until a wise man arrived.”
“The king asked, ‘What do I have to fight back?’ The sage asked, ‘What trump card do you possess?’”
“The king said, ‘I always share my wealth with my officials.’ The sage shook his head. ‘Sharing with a few ministers is not enough.’”
“The king asked again, ‘I am pious, and offer tribute to the gods?’ The sage shook his head again. ‘The gods are too lofty to care for such things.’”
“The king racked his brain and finally said, ‘When I preside over court, I always judge fairly.’ The sage nodded, ‘That is your trump card.’”
“With the sage’s help, the king defeated a larger foe.”
Green plucked his strings, producing a holy and majestic chord.
Ding~~
The confusion vanished from Theresa’s eyes.
Clang—
“Supply Officer, by the Emperor’s Bestowed Sword, I swear I shall make an example of you today!”
“You—you pretty boy!” Seeing the murderous princess about to strike, the Supply Officer’s eyes went wild. He drew his sword and charged at Green. “If I die, I’ll take you down with me!”
“Green, watch out!” Theresa, in the midst of reciting military law, was caught off guard and cried out in panic.
Splurt—
“Ahhhh!”
With a heart-rending scream, a figure toppled over, spattering mud everywhere.
“Hm? Why are you all looking at me?” Green glanced at the still-beating heart in his hand with distaste and crushed it.
Splurt!
“As a bard, it’s perfectly normal to know a little Assassination Arts, isn’t it?”