Chapter 116
Chapter 116
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 116
Chapter Title: Battle of Crécy Plains (1)
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One month later, at the Reich Empire Army headquarters barracks on the Crécy Plains.
The other generals, excluding me, wore expressions like they were on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. They had pushed far beyond the original plan on Commander Patton's orders, marching and plundering until they could barely stand.
Commander Patton alone burst into hearty laughter at the sight of the generals and field-grade officers who had just returned now that the operation was over.
"Hahaha, what did I tell you! You all said it seemed impossible to march all the way to Goblen, plunder on the way, and make it back. But see? It all worked out perfectly!"
Thanks to my achievement in holding off the 10,000 troops led by Division Commander Ponpadour at Hatin—and Commander Patton's judgment that I couldn't join the plundering anyway...
I'd managed to avoid the madness of marching over the infantry's daily average of 20 km—an outrageous 26 km per day—for nearly a month straight.
Looking at Major General Ritter beside me, who couldn't hide his exhaustion even as the commander spoke, gave me a clear sense of just how brutal the invasion operation must have been.
Personally, I figured our brigade—having clashed with the Franco Republic forces right in Hatin Forest—had suffered every bit as much as they had. We were no slouches in the misery department.
But Commander Patton seemed to harbor some inner regret that ordinary folks like us had merely followed his brilliant foresight...
He muttered in such a tiny voice that you had to strain to hear it.
"When I was young, the moment I heard the Western Army commander needed help, I covered 200 km in a week. These days, they've made military life too soft..."
I usually wanted to back this capable old general whenever he said stuff like that, but the truth was, no one else in the entire vast Empire could pull off maneuvers and marches at that insane level.
No—God forbid any other general even tried imitating it.
It had only worked because it was Patton. If some incompetent hack tried the same high-speed antics, our 70,000-strong army would scatter like dust midway through, throwing the whole force into chaos.
Then General Patton walked over to my side and clapped me on the shoulder right in front of all the other generals.
"Of course, my rapid march succeeded because Major General Jaeger here tied down 10,000 Franco Republic soldiers in Hatin Forest! He's the top contributor and greatest hero of this operation."
Back when I was a field-grade officer, praise like that from a full general in an ops meeting would've left me flustered and unsure how to respond.
But now? I was a general—one of the Empire's top 1% in the nobility ranks that drew stares just for the stars on my shoulders, no matter where I went.
So the proper play here was a textbook response: dignified, not arrogant, but not groveling either.
"It's an honor, Commander. I merely did what I was able to do."
And that was the honest truth. I'd simply given my all to what I could manage. Even in the Imperial Army, where non-elites hit a glass ceiling on promotions...
Few could keep pace, turning it into something special. No lies there.
No telling how it landed on listeners, but at my age—with major general stars already pinned on—staying confident while humbly toeing the line was the way to dodge excessive backlash.
"Annihilating an enemy army in reverse with just 4,000—and so humble about it! I love it! Good. Then before we kick off the ops meeting, Chief of Staff?"
At that, Staff Officer Franz—seated right to Commander Patton's left—stood, let out a sigh, and opened his mouth.
"The Franco Republic has mobilized a total of 110,000 troops for this war. Of those, 10,000 were completely wiped out in Hatin Forest by the 12th Brigade's dedicated defense. Which means here on the Crécy Plains, we'll be facing 100,000 enemy troops."
Murmurs erupted among the surrounding generals at his words.
"Our numbers aren't that far off, but can we really overcome the disadvantage?"
"Isn't a numerical gap like that impossible to ignore?"
"Commander Patton's got something in mind. Let's wait and see."
And as they said, numbers mattered a ton in war.
Seventy thousand against 100,000—we could win depending on how we played it, sure. But generally, the side with more bodies had the edge.
And the Crécy Plains we were on? Perfect terrain for the knights those Franco bastards loved deploying.
This was a fight where we'd start at least two moves behind.
The chief of staff sighed again, shook his head side to side as if he knew exactly what we were fretting over, and pressed on.
"I get it—as Imperial generals, you're worried about our disadvantage. But everyone, take a look at this report. It's a summary penned by a scouting officer embedded with the Franco Republic army up until two weeks ago."
With that, a single report sheet was laid before me and every general present.
It was my doing, but the excommunication's effect was so devastating it was beyond words.
Normally, when an army marches out, even a corporal knows that openly showing fear lets it consume you.
Inside, you might be shaking like a leaf, but on the outside, you act cool, spout tough talk to keep up appearances.
"Ah, wanna fuck. Shit, wanna fuck bad."
Distracting with pointless horny bullshit, playing the jolly guy, faking bravery—that was standard.
But one excommunication bull had broken even the veterans who relied on bluster to prop up morale.
Truly a shame I couldn't pull this stunt twice.
Mentally drained, piled on top of physical fatigue...
Their army might put up a strong front initially by overwhelming with numbers, but the moment we cornered them, they'd crumble in seconds.
Because in war, you grit through physical agony and stamina drain with sheer willpower.
But the terror of excommunication—the fear of hell if they died—had gnawed their minds into uselessness.
Once the generals finished the scouting officer's report, it was like their earlier worries about the disadvantage had vanished. They jumped in with lively suggestions.
"The Crécy Plains are ideal for knights. So let's keep the infantry in hollow square formation on standby and let the knights duke it out."
"Major General Checker, what nonsense is that! We have fewer knights—if it's a straight-up fight, we'll all just die together!"
"How about deploying our forces wide and going for a frontal clash?"
The generals kept pitching their own tactics, countering each other as the plan slowly took shape.
But in my mind, with the enemy's pride and morale in the dirt, a little provocation would force those Franco idiots into their signature dumb moves.
Why fixate only on a frontal plain battle—the one way that favored them?
So, studying the Crécy Plains map, I came up with the perfect way to screw them over and finally spoke up.
"12th Brigade Commander Peter Jaeger has a plan to exterminate the Franco scum not even worthy of the name 'knights.'"