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“It is fine if we win on land,” Cromwell took over for her.

Hearing this, the headquarter's staff general stood up.

“Your Excellency, the general staff assumes that the enemy is headed to capture the city of Saxe-Gotha. This is...” Tapping the tip of his staff on the map on the table, he explained.

“It is the meeting point of the main road and an important metropolis. As a factor that supports the assumption, the enemy's reconnaissance has become active around here. A few days ago, dragon knights, thought to be for reconnaissance purposes, came flying and fought with our army's dragon knight squadron. We should position our main forces in City of Saxe-Gotha and wait for the enemy.”

The other generals raised voices of approval. It was a plausible strategy.

However, Cromwell shook his head.

“The main forces will not move from Londinium.”

“Do you plan to sit and wait for defeat?”

Hawkins looked at Cromwell as if he was a child who refused to let his toys get taken away. Cromwell shook his head once again.

“General, I do not mind if the city of Saxe-Gotha is taken.”

“You give the enemy a strategic base right under your nose. The enemy will probably replenish their low supplies at the metropolis and rest.”

“We will not give them supplies.”

“How?”

“Take all of the food away from the residents.”

Hawkins was at a loss for words. What a... Cromwell was trying to use the residents of Saxe-Gotha.

“The enemy will end up having to give their little amount of food to the residents. It'll slow them down. This plan is wiser than rashly proceeding through a defensive battle and suffering losses.”

“What will we do if the enemy abandons them! Many people will die from starvation!”

“That will not happen. What, even if the enemy abandons them, it is just one city. Between the importance of a country, it is a trivial sacrifice.”

Those were cold words, unthinkable of an ex-prelate. However, what he said was right.

The allied forces did not invade to negotiate with Cromwell. They came to abolish Cromwell and dominate this land. Eight to nine chances out of ten, they would think about the civilians after the war and perform charity.

Still... What will we do if we will? At the worst, a whole metropolis could revolt. That is how fearful the resentment from food is.

“You plan to make a whole metropolis your enemy... Either way, there will be unpleasant aftereffects...”

“Why do you think I arranged for those sub-humans to be sent ahead? All we have to do is say it was their own decision.”

It was unknown how, but Cromwell excelled in negotiation with sub-humans. Knowing that the sub-humans were sent ahead not for a normal army operation but for this kind of strategy, the generals were dumbfounded.

Their leader broke a treaty, not only used makeshift means to commence strategies, but finally planed to betray his own country's civilians through cowardly measures.

“I will also place a trap in the water of Saxe-Gotha.”

“Do you plan to throw poison in the water? Something like poison will be quickly washed away.”

“Not poison. 'Void'.”

“'Void'?”

“That's right. It will become interesting. However, it will take time for the effects to work,” Cromwell smiled.

Standing up... He raised his fist.

“Gentlemen, it's the Pentecost! Stop the enemy until then! When the Pentecost ends... 'Void' and the crossing of two staffs will drop the iron hammer upon our haughty enemies!”

The crossing of two staffs is the crest of the Gallia royal family.

“OHH! Finally, Gallia!” As the conference room became excited.

“At that time, our army will advance! To demolish our haughty enemies! I promise you!”

Sensing the atmosphere on the grounds heating up, Cromwell walked briskly to the balcony.

The generals and cabinet ministers stood up and followed him.

“Let all of our cabinet ministers encourage our brave and loyal soldiers!”

Voices of jubilation surrounded Cromwell and the others.

In the vast courtyard once built to wait on the king's audience, crazily enthusiastic trust was being offered to Cromwell, and the monarch's guards were lining in rows.

Thousands of voices of jubilation reached him. Cromwell waved his hand to answer.

“The enemy has landed on fatherland! Everyone! I question you brave revolutionary soldiers! Is this defeat?”

“No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!”

A ring of jubilation surrounded Cromwell.

“Exactly! This is not defeat! Absolutely not! I promise you victory! To you all, peerless, loyal, and brave who took the crown from that incompetent king, I promise you victory! Our haughty enemies will be destroyed when the Pentecost ends! They have touched God's wrath! Listen! Listen! The ones leading the lost Halkeginia are the civilians of Albion, who are chosen by God! For that reason, the Founder has entrusted power to me!”

There were numerous soldiers who died in battle lined up on the balcony.

Cromwell raised his ring up high.

Doing so... the dead soldiers revived and walked off.

“Everyone! As long as we have this 'Void', we cannot be defeated! Believe in me! Believe in our fatherland! Believe in 'Void', the power of us who were chosen by the founder!”

“Void! Void! Void! Void! Void! Void! Void! Void! Void! Void!”

“That's right, Void!” Cromwell swung his fist.

“The founder is with us! Do not fear! The founder is with us!”

The enthusiasm in the courtyard reached a climax. Cromwell shouted in a loud voice.

“Long live the revolution! Destroy the enemy!”

The enthusiasm even reached the balcony.

“Long live the revolution! Destroy the enemy! Long live the revolution! Destroy the enemy! Long live the revolution! Destroy the enemy!”

“Long live the Holy Albion republic!”

“Long live the Holy Albion Republic! Long live the Holy Albion Republic! Long live the Holy Albion Republic! Long live the Holy Albion Republic!”

“Long live our Highness the Holy Emperor!” One of the cabinet ministers stood up and shouted in a loud voice.

“Long live our Highness the Holy Emperor! Long live our Highness the Holy Emperor! Long live our Highness the Holy Emperor! Long live our Highness the Holy Emperor! Long live our Highness the Holy Emperor!”

The endless shouting was sucked into the air.

After the wildly enthusiastic audience...

Cromwell was sitting, troubled, in a gigantic private room that was once the King's bedroom. His body was shaking slightly.

Sheffield was standing in front of him, whispering to him while looking down at him.

“That was a brilliant speech, Prelate.”

The man, who was called a prelate in his previous position, as if falling off the chair, kneeled down at Sheffield's feet.

The mask of dignity he had shown earlier had been blown off.

Just a man in his thirties that was panicking in fear, just a thin man who was nothing but a prelate was there.

“Ohhhhhhh! Miss! Miss Sheffield! That person! Will that person really send soldiers to this abominable country? This is not the words of that general just not... I! I am scared! I, a thin man who can't even control magic, am afraid!”

To Cromwell, Sheffield spoke in a voice as if to comfort a child.

“What are you saying. To be afraid now! The one who said 'I want to be King' at that bar was you. Because I was impressed by those candid words, I decided to give you, as my master, Albion.”

“Perhaps a mere prelate has dreamed too much... Tempted by you and 'that person', I obtained The Ring of Andvari, collected nobles that held contempt towards the royal family, and excuted my revenge on Albion's royal family who had humiliated me... To a point, it was fun. Oh it was fun, it was like I was dreaming.”