Chapter 184: Siege Warfare
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 184: Siege Warfare
In an era where faith was an integral part of life, excommunication meant the forfeiture of all rights befitting a human being.
It meant being treated as less than human, cast out from one's community. One could assault or plunder the excommunicated with impunity.
For a crime could only be committed against a human. Thus, excommunication was both a brand permitting any atrocity against its target and a death sentence.
Of course, this was only true for the powerless common folk. For the nobility, especially influential figures like a king, the circumstances were slightly different.
A powerful king like Bronx II could attack a pope who lacked practical power, damaging his authority and thereby weakening the excommunication's effect.
Taking it a step further, if he installed a friendly cleric as an antipope, the pope who had issued the decree would find himself in an awkward position.
Ultimately, it was a matter of power.
The problem was that the one who had declared the excommunication on the pope's behalf was Allen, who now besieged the ducal castle with three thousand elite soldiers.
Lacking both justification and practical power, the king and Duke Baeneng had no choice but to accept the excommunication.
Downfall.
Duke Baeneng, who had dreamed of the throne, was now suddenly forced to worry about his own ruin. He could not possibly accept such a reality.
“I-I can’t believe it! Excommunication! Why would the pope, who never cared for the affairs of the Western Continent, suddenly excommunicate His Majesty! I refuse to accept it! It’s a fabrication!”
It was a desperate protest, but one with a grain of truth. The influence of a pope embroiled in countless scandals hardly reached the Western Continent.
Of course, he was referring to the previous pope, who was already dead. Allen raised the decree of excommunication high and declared.
“If you wish, see for yourself the decree of excommunication, signed and sealed by the pope! Then you shall know my words are not false!”
Soon, a small castle gate opened. The bishop the king had won over rushed out, flanked by two guard knights.
“Th-this is…”
The bishop’s eyes trembled as he read the decree’s contents again and again. Then, his gaze fell upon the signature, and his eyes flashed.
“This is not the pope’s signature!”
His face brightened as if he had found his opening. He raised his voice, clearly intending for Duke Baeneng and his army to hear.
Duke Baeneng’s face immediately brightened, and the soldiers on the ramparts began to murmur.
Allen smirked.
“Look closer at the signature.”
“…Raceni? Could it be—”
Ignoring the bishop’s look of disbelief, Allen shouted to Duke Baeneng and the soldiers.
“Unable to stand by and watch the evil deeds of the previous pope, Archbishop Raceni has made a stand to restore the faith and reform the church! The churches and priests of the Northern Continent have joined him, electing him as the new pope!”
The soldiers on the ramparts stirred. Despite the words coming from an enemy commander, the mood was not entirely unfavorable.
The previous pope’s misdeeds were so infamous that even common soldiers knew of them, whereas Archbishop Raceni had spent the last decade proving his piety on the Western Continent.
No one believed that Archbishop Raceni would have taken the papacy for personal gain.
“I-I cannot accept this! A new pope can only be elected with the unanimous consent of the five bishop-level cardinals! Archbishop Raceni, who rose to the papacy without a legitimate process, has committed an act of heresy!”
The bishop foamed at the mouth. His argument was technically correct, but the reaction was poor. Befitting a man who had been swayed by the king, his own conduct was less than stellar.
And what's more, the man he was criticizing was none other than Archbishop Raceni, a man renowned for his piety.
The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. Compared to Archbishop Raceni, the bishop's own conduct was bound to become fodder for the soldiers' gossip.
“What nerve does a man who kept his mouth shut while the previous pope committed countless atrocities have to criticize Archbishop Raceni now?”
When Allen tossed out the remark, even the soldiers on the ramparts couldn't help but snicker.
“Hngh—”
The bishop, gritting his teeth in fury, flinched and stumbled backward when Allen placed a hand on his sword.
Seeing the situation turn against him, Duke Baeneng had only one option.
“Time. Give me time to think!”
Duke Baeneng ground his teeth. From the top floor of the spire, he could see Allen's army surrounding his castle, a watertight siege.
The greater problem was the unrest among his soldiers. They had no desire to fight for an excommunicated king, fearing the taint of excommunication would spread to them.
They were facing a battle to the death. To be associated with an excommunicant was to be damned to hell.
The knights, too, were wavering. Any contract with an excommunicated individual was automatically nullified, and oaths of fealty were no exception.
In other words, switching sides would not be considered treason.
They had already suffered a crushing defeat and were cornered. The king's knights exchanged wary glances. They were defeated before the fight had even truly begun.
“If I hand over the king…”
Thus, Duke Baeneng had no choice but to consider handing over the king.
“You will never attain the throne. And is that all? With the church at his back, the baron can have you excommunicated whenever he pleases.”
The one who answered Duke Baeneng's mutter was in a blind spot, untouched by the sunlight from the window or the candlelight on the central table.
The only visible part of the figure, who wore the shadows like a garment, was the hem of a skirt brushing against the floor.
“The problem is that if we fight now, defeat is certain. Wouldn't it be better to hand over the king, lie low, and wait for an opportunity in the distant future?”
For Duke Baeneng, it would only mean switching from being wary of the king to being wary of Allen.
“There will be no opportunity. The baron seized the entire Northern Continent in his last campaign. He has also annexed the County of Dresden. With the church now backing him, his power will only continue to grow.”
The figure in the shadows was the only one in the king and Duke Baeneng's allied army who had grasped the full extent of Allen's movements.
“What? How could a man who was nothing more than the son of a nameless knightly family just a few years ago…!”
It was an unbelievable tale for Duke Baeneng. Compared to Allen's achievements, even the great kings of myth seemed like mere fledglings!
“This changes everything! You assured me I had a chance to become king, and now this? Ruler of the North? Backed by the church? If you foresaw this, you should have told me!”
Clenching his fists, Duke Baeneng narrowed his eyes and glared at the figure in the shadows.
“Are you doubting me?”
The voice turned chillingly cold. It seemed to creep across the floor like a mist, slithering up his legs to wrap around his throat.
Gulp.
Duke Baeneng's nails dug into his palms. His own voice grew hoarse, like scraping metal, but in his tension, he failed to notice.
“H-how can I not be suspicious! As it stands, all we've done is play right into the baron's hands!”
“Have you forgotten my efforts in helping you aspire to the throne? If I were truly the baron's pawn, I would have had no reason to do so.”
“At this rate, my house will be ruined!”
“I believe I told you before. I am not a god. I cannot account for every unforeseen variable.”
His face crumpling like paper, Duke Baeneng slammed his fist against the wall by the window.
“So you're just going to wash your hands of me!”
“Of course not. There is still a way.”
With those words, the figure in the shadows fell silent. Realizing this was a silent demand, Duke Baeneng suppressed his anger and lowered his head.
“Sigh. I got carried away. My apologies.”
He was desperate enough to take help from anyone, and this figure in the shadows was his only lifeline.
“I accept.”
“What is this method?”
“Archbishop Raceni was not elected through the proper channels. If you challenge that point, you will at least not lose the fight for legitimacy.”
Duke Baeneng frowned.
“Did you not see my bishop become a laughingstock for making that very same argument?”
“That was because he was a bishop with many flaws to his name. If you yourself were to make the speech, my lord, you could prevent a defeat before the battle even begins.”
The words carried a hidden barb: it had been a mistake to send such a flawed bishop to handle the decree. The duke's face flushed.
“And how are we to stop the physical threat? Our forces were depleted helping the king. Even counting the stragglers, we have barely fifteen hundred men.”
“What does that matter? The enemy cannot even approach this natural fortress.”
The ducal castle is surrounded by a moat wide enough for boats, and with the drawbridge raised, the only path to the entrance vanishes.
“Moreover, the enemy has no siege weapons, making it impossible for them to breach these walls. We, on the other hand, can be resupplied by sea.”
The implication was clear.
“You're suggesting we hold out? But they can build siege engines, and if they have the men and the will to accept casualties, they can fill the moat. Time is not on our side.”
Holding out would only postpone the inevitable. So thought Duke Baeneng.
The figure in the shadows thought differently.
“No. Time is on our side. If we can hold out, the noble faction will come to our aid.”
“How is that possible? The king and the noble faction were like cats and dogs. By taking your advice and siding with the king, the connections I've built over the years are in tatters. The noble faction will never help us.”
To claim the throne, the king had to be eliminated. That was why Duke Baeneng had been secretly fostering ties with the noble faction before this figure approached him.
But by siding with the king, all that effort had gone up in smoke.
“The noble faction does not hate the king. They merely wish to check the rise of an overwhelmingly powerful figure on the continent. A strong monarch would strip the nobles of their interests, one by one.”
“Wait, does that mean…!”
“Yes. Now that the baron has swallowed the County of Dresden after conquering the North, and has secured the church's support, does that not signal the rise of a monarch even more powerful than the king?”
Consequently, Duke Baeneng's alliance with the king was now aligned with the noble faction's goal: to check the rise of a powerful monarch.
This meant the duke's ties with the noble faction were still valid.
“I guarantee it. Once word gets out, the noble faction will react.”
“…So I need to buy time?”
There was no reply. The figure in the shadows had vanished like a dream. Unfazed, Duke Baeneng descended the spire. This was a common occurrence for him.
Duke Baeneng faithfully followed the advice.
To Allen's face, he stalled, claiming he needed more time to deliberate. Behind his back, he sent a letter to the noble faction by sea.
What was strange was that even after enough time had passed for Allen to realize the duke was stalling, he remained patient.
“What is he plotting…?”
The answer came from the figure in the shadows.
“He has only just returned from the North, fought a battle, and immediately gave chase. He and his soldiers must be exhausted. Besides, he has no other viable options.”
More time passed. Still, Allen waited like a man with infinite patience.
“Just why…?”
“…Perhaps he has grown complacent, believing victory is already his. He won when his forces were outnumbered more than two to one; now that the tables have turned, he must think victory is a foregone conclusion.”
Whenever Duke Baeneng grew anxious, the figure in the shadows appeared at just the right time.
But when the next piece of news arrived from the sea, the figure did not appear, no matter how long the duke waited.
“Your Grace! The supply fleet has been sunk!”
“What!? Wait, then the letter sent to the noble faction…”
“Probably with it…”
Duke Baeneng immediately assembled and dispatched a new supply fleet, only to receive a report that it, too, had been sunk.
His supply line, essential for holding out, had been severed. Worse, any hope of aid from the noble faction had become a distant dream.
But what plunged Duke Baeneng into the deepest despair was the fact that the figure in the shadows no longer appeared.
“I shouldn't have trusted them! I never should have trusted them!!!”
@
Meanwhile, at that very moment, I was on a nearby coast, facing Owells, the fleet commander of Dresden. He was the captain who had aided my return.
“You made good time.”
While I had traveled up the Rhine River from Dresden, Owells had taken the long way around the continent with Dresden's famed ocean fleet.
I had knowingly allowed Duke Baeneng to stall for time, waiting for this very moment—for the ocean fleet to blockade the coast by his castle.
My goal was to disrupt the enemy's rear, preventing them from focusing on the battle.
Owells had played his part perfectly. By cutting the supply lines, he had left Duke Baeneng completely isolated. And there was an unexpected bonus.
“This is the duke's secret letter to the noble faction.”
It was a secret letter, sealed with wax and stamped with Duke Baeneng's signet ring. Owells watched me with a curious gaze as he handed it over and asked.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
“Is there any need? In a situation like this, there's only one reason to send a secret letter to the noble faction. He must be requesting reinforcements.”
“There's no way the noble faction would agree.”
Owells seemed well-versed in the relationship between the king and the noble faction.
“The noble faction kept the king in check because he was a powerful grand lord with the potential to grow even stronger. But I've surpassed that stage. If they don't want to be devoured by me, they'll have to set aside old grudges for a while.”
The king and the noble faction were political rivals, their relationship defined by their interests. If those interests aligned, they could easily cooperate.
“Then we must burn it immediately…!”
“I can't just throw away a card that's fallen into my hands. Sir Owells, could you deliver this letter to the noble faction, posing as a messenger from Duke Baeneng? Ah, and of course, you must deliver it at a time of my choosing.”
“Pardon…?”
I pressed the secret letter into the hand of the astonished Owells.
“If the king and the noble faction join forces, they will undoubtedly be a formidable enemy. But taken separately, they are more than manageable.”
“Don't tell me…!”
I intended to crush the king and the noble faction one by one. A smile playing on my lips, I saw Owells off and returned to my camp.
Then I thought of the duke, holed up in his deathly quiet castle.
How would he react now? Would he go out in a blaze of glory, or would he beg for my mercy? Either way, the outcome would be the same.
But there was something else I was truly curious about. I desperately wanted to know why Duke Baeneng, a man with whom I had no connection, would join forces with his political rival, the king, just to attack me.