Chapter 90: The House of Viscount Castor 

“Allow me to ask once more. What is the situation in this city?”

In the small district that had somehow survived within the charred remains of the city, the Castor Viscount’s residence still stood tall, as if stubbornly refusing to yield to the destruction around it.

Having arrived there, I took a seat across from the Viscount himself and directed my question toward him.

“…It is no longer possible for this city to fulfill the role it once did.”

In response, the Viscount spoke heavily, each word weighed down with resignation.

“We are currently gathering manpower from other towns and villages within my domain to begin reconstruction. But to resume duties such as supplying the front lines is… impossible. Nearly all of our resources were burned. We can scarcely even secure enough for ourselves.”

“If it’s supplies you need, I can arrange for them to be routed here through my trading company.”

“…Would that truly be acceptable?”

“Yes. My company exists for times like this. Profit is not a concern.”

After all, the company I managed wasn’t a purely profit-driven enterprise.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it existed for the sake of the Kingdom of Runoa. The profits we generated were meant to be spent—without hesitation—when situations like this arose.

“Given that, do you see any chance this place can return to being a supply hub?”

“We lack people. Desperately so.”

“…I see.”

If we pushed ourselves to the limit, we might somehow manage to secure supplies… but there weren’t enough hands to manage them, nor enough people to transport them.

And if we used personnel from my company just to procure materials, then we’d have no manpower left to spare on this side.

“…Hah.”

I had expected as much, but hearing it directly from the field made it weigh all the heavier.

“…So an offensive is out of the question.”

I struck the desk once with my hand.

Once again, we had lost.

The grand offensive—launched with every card we had—had been halted halfway through. The western front would likely fall back into a barren stalemate, trenches glaring at trenches in a futile war of attrition.

We would have to compensate, somehow, for the loss of the mining region.

The most viable option would be persuading that Middle Eastern nation—our supposed ally, yet one that had refused to stand firmly on our side—to redirect the resources they were exporting to the Kingdom of Friez toward Runoa instead.

That might work. Probably.

But even then… it wouldn’t be enough.

“…Damn.”

There were nations willing to lend us support—but making contact with them was the problem.

We were a country at war. Most others avoided even sitting at the negotiating table, unwilling to be dragged into the conflict.

“…Where do we begin?”

Should we attempt an offensive through the Rosha Empire, seize their mining regions instead? No…we didn’t even have the capacity to launch an attack there right now.

Even if we did, it would be far off in the future.

Cities… perhaps we could gather existing iron products, melt them down, and turn them into military supplies.

I was sure something like that had been done on Earth as well—establishing a total war system faster than any other nation…

But that would come at the cost of civilian life.

“…Brigadier General Willard, sir…”

“Hm? Ah—my apologies. I was lost in thought.”

Pulled back from my spiraling considerations by the Viscount’s voice, I lifted my head to face him.

“There may not be much we can do. However… when it comes to our hatred for the Kingdom of Friez, there is no one who surpasses us.”

Lieutenant Castor had been the same.

And now, the man sitting before me—the Viscount—burned with that same fury. The city he had been born in, raised in, and ruled over had been mercilessly destroyed.

Of course he would feel this way.

“Please… bring us victory. For that sake, we are willing to—”

Their resentment settled heavily upon my shoulders.

“Yes. Your strength will undoubtedly be needed from here on as well. The road to reconstruction will be harsh and unforgiving… but I believe you can see it through.”

I nodded as I spoke.

“For the time being, I will also be stationed here. Allow me to assist with the reconstruction efforts.”

“We are… deeply grateful.”

“Together, we will seize victory… without fail.”

And yet—

What, exactly, awaited us at the end of this war?

No nation had truly profited from the World War I. None had truly gained from the World War II either.

So then… what were we even striving toward?