Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: The Last Chance
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* * *
There was never any intention to negotiate from the start. This was purely a trap aimed at Phillip, the eldest son of the count.
A ploy to see into the internal affairs of the count's family and the Order of Saint Magdalena as if they were the palm of one's hand, and to disrupt their chain of command.
“Please, Lord Phillip! Don't listen to him, I beg you to return!”
“It looks like the dog is trying to put a leash on its master.”
Despite the pleading tone in the voice of his adjutant, Lord Milvas, Dale of Sachsen let out a cold sneer each time. As if he found it too amusing to bear.
“—Lord Bale.”
“Yes, Lord Dale!”
After letting out the sneer, Dale spoke to the adjutant knight guarding his side.
“Please step aside for a moment.”
As if to flaunt his own status and the trust he commanded.
“As you command!”
The moment Dale gave the order, his adjutant, Lord Bale, stepped back from the table. Without a hint of delay.
A perfect chain of command.
“Shall we speak alone for a moment?”
Dale asked after sending his men back.
“Just between the 'supreme commanders' who are responsible for this battle, of course.”
He said this with a meaningful smile, without specifying who he was referring to.
“…Fine!”
“L-Lord Phillip!”
At those words, Phillip's face flushed red as he raised his voice. As if he were one of the two supreme commanders Dale had mentioned.
—Even though the Holy Sword Master had unofficially entrusted this battle to his adjutant, Lord Milvas, only a select few high-ranking officers within the Order of Saint Magdalena knew the truth.
Publicly, the one commanding them was the Holy Sword Master's son, the lecherous Phillip. Even if he was merely a figurehead for this battle, a puppet. Besides, Phillip's 'pride' wasn't so low as to meekly accept that fact.
“Stand down at once, Lord Milvas!”
“B-But, Lord Phillip…!”
“Can you not hear the supreme commander's words!”
Phillip shouted, filled with rage.
“Dealing with the Sachsen brat is my job!”
In any case, Phillip, the count's delinquent son, was 'officially' the supreme commander of this battle. And as long as the supreme commander insisted on being unreasonable in front of everyone, Lord Milvas had no choice. For him, being any more stubborn would only be counterproductive.
“…I will obey your command.”
Pushing back his burning impatience, Lord Milvas bowed his head. Utterly reluctant.
“As I said, I requested this meeting purely for the sake of negotiation.”
Eventually, one of the two people left at the negotiation table, Dale of Sachsen, spoke.
“Hmph, do you have any terms that could possibly persuade me?”
Phillip of Brandenburg asked, desperately feigning composure.
“I do.”
“Let's hear them.”
“If the Order of Saint Magdalena withdraws from this battle and pulls back its troops.”
Dale continued calmly.
“Our ducal house will provide all the military rations necessary for your return to the count's domain.”
“What…?”
To put it bluntly, it was an offer to take some food and get lost. The proposal was so absurd that Phillip couldn't even manage a hollow laugh.
“Are you daring to call such pathetic terms a 'negotiation'?”
“I am.”
Despite this, Dale replied with a very serious expression.
“I apologize if my earlier mockery offended you, my lord.”
He bowed politely, as if the cruel malice from moments ago had been a lie.
“But please, withdraw your troops and return.”
Withdraw your troops and return. That was tantamount to admitting defeat and going home before the battle had even begun.
“At least it's better than having your entire force decimated, with hundreds of the count's prized knights killed or captured.”
Yet, Dale's ensuing warning was by no means a taunt or a bluff.
“The reputation of the Order of Saint Magdalena falling to the ground.”
His voice was calm, as if he were simply stating a fact.
“Than the worst possible outcome, where even Lord Phillip's 'value as a puppet' disappears.”
That was why it was all the more unbearable.
“Accepting my offer would be the 'cleanest form' of defeat you could hope for.”
The pitying gaze from a ten-year-old child. That attitude, as if he were looking down on him.
“…Hah, Lord Milvas was right!”
For Phillip, the eldest son of the count, it was an unbearable humiliation and shame.
“From the very beginning, you had nothing but contempt and insults for me in that head of yours!”
Phillip shot up from his seat, kicking his chair back. As if any further conversation was meaningless.
“That's a shame.”
Watching him, Dale smiled coldly, his sincere advice from moments before forgotten.
“This was your last chance.”
“What did you say…?”
Last chance.
“Aren't you afraid?”
Dale continued.
“When you lose this battle, the one who will ultimately take the blame for the defeat won't be 'Commander Lord Milvas'…”
His voice was devoid of any emotion.
“It will be the incompetent and utterly useless eldest son of the count.”
*'A worthless worm, worse than a ten-year-old brat.'*
At Dale's words, Phillip momentarily recalled his father's icy sneer directed at him. That cold gaze, as if looking at irredeemable trash.
In contrast, he remembered his father's assessment of the young heir of House Sachsen.
*'A monster that a dunce like you could never hope to catch up to, not even in a hundred years.'*
“…Don't be ridiculous.”
At the end of his thoughts, Phillip muttered under his breath, trying to push aside the crushing pressure of defeat weighing on his chest.
“The days of a brat like you acting so smug are numbered.”
What in the world was so different between him and this damn kid?
“I will prove it, right in front of everyone!”
That Phillip of Brandenburg is superior to the young heir of House Sachsen.
Commanding this battle and defeating Dale will be my role, not Lord Milvas's.
I will defeat the greatest genius in the Empire, the prodigy of the ducal house… establish an undeniable military achievement… and prove myself to my father, and to the entire Empire.
“My, I look forward to that.”
And toward the resolute Phillip, Dale offered a bright smile.
The conversation ended there.
* * *
Some time after the negotiations broke down.
The Greenbelt Barony.
“The forces of the Order of Saint Magdalena and Baron Perker have begun to move.”
In a room within the castle, an aide moved a few chess pieces across a large wooden table.
“Feeding five hundred knights and three thousand warhorses must be starting to strain their supply lines.”
And for such a large force undertaking a long-distance expedition, expecting ample supplies is out of the question.
“Should we hold a defensive posture until the enemy grows impatient and makes a move?”
At the aide's question, the supreme commander… Dale, shook his head.
“Since the enemy is moving with their full force.”
After shaking his head, Dale continued calmly.
“We, too, should show them sincerity in kind.”
* * *
This side was no exception in keeping a keen watch on the movements of the enemy's domain.
“The knights of House Sachsen have begun to move.”
While Phillip was drinking himself into a stupor with Baron Perker's prostitutes, in a room within Baron Perker's castle.
“I thought they would try to draw us into a long war by taking advantage of our supply situation.”
“The Greenbelt Barony is not a territory suitable for a siege defense. House Sachsen would not be ignorant of that fact.”
“Hmm…”
It wasn't an unreasonable point. But pushing aside an unknown sense of unease, 'Lord Milvas' turned his head, recalling the cold smile of the young Sachsen heir at the negotiation table that day.
He was not an opponent to be underestimated just because he was a ten-year-old child.
*'Never let your guard down against the young heir of House Sachsen.'*
Just as the Holy Sword Master had warned, Dale of Sachsen was a monster that a fool like Phillip could never hope to match, not even in a hundred years. And he thought of the threat that monster would pose to the Empire when he came of age.
He was all the more certain because he had just witnessed it with his own two eyes.
The way he tore Phillip's foolish pride to shreds, manipulating him as he pleased. That chillingly cold sneer, like an abyss of malice.
It wasn't something that could be dismissed as the cruel innocence of a child. That boy was undoubtedly a monster, a 'seed of evil'. He was, after all, the bloodline of that dark clan, of Lord Black himself.
“…Having come this far, we can't refuse a fight.”
No, rather, this is an opportunity.
House Sachsen and its eldest son would one day become a threat to his lord and the entire Empire. And before that seed of evil could fully blossom, while this great evil who would become the Empire's future enemy was still just a 'ten-year-old child', now was the time.
*'I must cut that bud now.'*
Even considering the political fallout such an act would bring. This was the decision Lord Milvas had made for his lord and his country.
—Ironically, he had forgotten that he himself was treating Dale more like a child than anyone.
“As soon as the troops are organized, we will prepare the entire army to march.”
The resolute High Knight, Lord Milvas, nodded, leaving the distant laughter of Phillip and the prostitutes behind him.
* * *
Lord Black, the Holy Sword Master, Lord Crimson… and the Hero from Another World.
No matter how much this was a world of sword and sorcery, there were not many strong enough to turn the tide of battle with 'personal strength' in the purest sense.
This was no exception even for mages, who were considered the strategic weapons of this world.
In large-scale battles where mages participate, a 'High-Altitude Magic Defense System (MDS)' is activated to intercept each other's wide-area spells, and a mage's value truly shines when they function as part of combined arms tactics.
Let alone a 'fair and square battle' where mages do not participate.
Therefore, even if Dale were to obtain overwhelming martial power of that caliber, moving an army would be indispensable to stand against the Empire that dominated the entire continent.
“Lord Dale, the enemy's main force has begun its northern advance!”
Finishing his thoughts, Dale looked up. Soon, the scouting party that had been monitoring the enemy's movements returned to report.
“Well done.”
Dale nodded calmly, as if he had expected it.
Beneath a large banner emblazoned with the night raven crest symbolizing House Sachsen, mounted on a warhorse clad in impervious barding, he wore custom-made armor and a black surcoat.
“Swords of House Sachsen, the time has come.”
Leading the Black Cavalry, known as the destroyers of the battlefield… five hundred Night Raven Knights.