Chouri was well aware he lacked the power to stop Eblana.
After finishing his meal, he began discreetly testing the waters, probing the opinions of nearly everyone who had interacted with Eblana.
From the servants in the manor to the clerical staff and the guards stationed outside, he sought them all out one by one.
Their cultures differed, their experiences varied, and their ways of expression were not the same, yet their meaning was startlingly consistent.
Given the chance, they would fight for Eblana, carving their honor upon her banner.
This didn't stem solely from respect for her, but more from the ambition and fervor she had ignited within them.
Witnessing this, any thought of obstructing Eblana left him entirely.
...Well, perhaps it was for the best.
This life of his was, after all, a body that should have died.
While Eblana had saved him for the sake of his abilities, frankly, capable people could always be found later.
If he didn't support her endeavors, the trouble she'd face after reviving him would far outweigh simply losing him.
For that reason alone, Chouri had little will left to defy her. His meager attempts at dissuasion were born merely from the timidity and cowardice cultivated by years of seclusion.
The more he understood Eblana's utter disregard for life and her relentless pursuit of power, the more precious her act of saving him seemed.
Even Chouri couldn't help wondering if this, too, was part of her calculations, but in the end, he chalked it up to genuine feeling deep within her.
Perhaps, in the depths of Eblana's heart, there was indeed a sliver of softness.
People believe what they want to believe, and that was precisely Chouri's state of mind. What he didn't know was that his judgment on this matter had accidentally hit the mark.
After all, this Eblana was not the original.
While she had adapted her conduct to avoid seeming out of character, Amber was far from possessing Eblana's immense ambition or her grand, sweeping vision.
[A/N: The criticism of Eblana's 'vision' mainly came from someone whose own perspective far exceeded normal human levels. For ordinary people, Sister Ai's vision was actually quite substantial.]
With Chouri fully relinquishing control, Eblana swiftly gathered all the administrative personnel of Eastridge City.
As the Empire's furthest frontier, Eastridge not only backed against the sea but also faced hostile tribes to the east.
Coupled with Chouri's status as a Count, the city garrison was not small, numbering around six thousand.
That figure initially gave Eblana quite a shock, but upon closer inspection, the moisture—the padding—in those six thousand became immediately apparent.
While called six thousand soldiers, most were ordinary folk who had never seen battle, along with aging veterans unable to retire.
Setting aside two thousand who were old, weak, or unfit, and the rest lacking real combat experience, the actual number of able-bodied soldiers ready for immediate deployment was only about a thousand.
In other words, five-sixths were essentially reservists, only to be called upon under special circumstances.
It was somewhat disappointing, but a force of one thousand was actually quite respectable. In her original world, it would have made for a powerful Count.
Disappointment aside, war still had to be waged.
After confirming the numbers available for combat, Eblana immediately gathered the clerks and squad leaders, outlining their next course of action.
It was simple: advance from the outside in. The first target was Viscount Crott, whose lands also bordered the tribes and who had already clashed with them several times.
He was a man of ambiguous loyalties.
His attacks on the tribes seemed like defending the Empire from external threats, but in reality, each skirmish was minor, with casualties kept remarkably low on both sides—almost as if they were staged fights.
This gave Eblana reason to suspect he wasn't as loyal as the Empire imagined. And from his actions, which were more annoying than lethal, he didn't seem to have thrown in his lot with the Revolutionary Army either.
This kind of person, dissatisfied with the Empire yet not joining the revolution, was seen by Eblana as the first force she could bring to heel.
Even if this Viscount was a vassal of another Marquis.
Twelve days later, in the afternoon, Viscount Crott received reports from his soldiers.
"You're saying we're under attack, and it's not the tribes?" Crott frowned, listening to the report, puzzled. "How many are there?"
"Looks to be around a thousand... the one leading them seems to be Count Chouri's daughter..."
Count Chouri's daughter is attacking me?
Crott found it utterly absurd. What was the meaning of this?
Absurd as it seemed, such a significant matter demanded his attention, especially since the force was from an Imperial Count, not the tribes.
He had recently received a warning letter from the tribes, essentially forcing him to declare his stance quickly, or they would lay siege to his city.
The fact that the Revolutionary Army hadn't reacted suggested they were tacitly allowing it.
This matter had already sent his blood pressure soaring while leaving him helpless, and now this had to happen on top of it.
Rushing on horseback, Crott reached the top of the city wall in ten minutes.
Looking down at the soldiers below, and the spear-wielding, dragon-horned girl on horseback at the forefront, he couldn't help but call out, "Are the forces below those of Count Chouri?"
He knew nothing of any Imperial Princess, but he was aware that a girl with the regressed bloodline of the Dragon Duke had appeared in Count Chouri's household.
"Count Chouri."
The dragon girl below repeated the title she herself had uttered countless times, a hint of amusement in her voice, before shaking her head with a smile.
This title, bestowed by the Empire, did indeed seem somewhat unsightly at this moment.
Eblana had no intention of continuing its use. Just as she was about to speak, she suddenly heard the chaotic sound of footsteps and hoofbeats.
Not just her, the soldiers who had followed her there also turned at the noise.
Approaching was a force of about two thousand, dressed in tribal garb.
Seeing Eblana's troops already at the city gates, the newcomers also seemed confused. But then, the tribal commander's face contorted with anger.
Ah, so this was the situation. Crott must have begged the Empire for aid, and he actually managed to get a fair number of troops.
Tribal armies were generally stronger than the Empire's, as almost all their males were warriors.
A tribe of two thousand could muster around thirteen hundred fighters, and the numbers became even more exaggerated when tribes combined.
Seeing that Eblana's forces hadn't yet entered the city, the tribal commander recognized a prime opportunity. The reinforcements hadn't gotten in, the defenders weren't fully assembled—it was the perfect moment to attack.
Without a second thought, he immediately ordered a full assault, determined to wipe out this relief force right here.
If the enemy tried to sally out from the city to support them, even better.
That would turn a difficult siege into a straightforward field battle.
'Go ahead, open your gates for them,' he thought scornfully.
Crott was also bewildered. Had Count Chouri received word the tribes were attacking and sent troops to aid him? But the timing couldn't be worse.
He only had five hundred men here. Even with the reinforcements, that made fifteen hundred. Defending the walls was one thing, but venturing out was entirely different.
Yet, if he didn't go out... his relationship with the Count would become rather...
What on earth should he do?
Meanwhile, seated on her horse, watching the tribesmen charge toward her, Eblana's expression turned rather nuanced.
So... were they being caught between a hammer and an anvil?
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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If you guys wanna check it out.