Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: Deception, and the Thirty-Six Stratagems: Run Like Hell (5)
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Before dawn the next day.
Near Delfino Castle, in the private tent reserved for the Duke of the Switchland army.
Duke Christian von Switchland hadn't slept a wink. Unable to contain his surging rage, he tore at his hair with both hands and bellowed.
"Peter Jaeger!!! That bastard deserves to have his guts ripped out alive and turned into sausages! Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!"
Screaming like that, he hurled every object in his tent to the ground, letting out near-screams of fury.
To anyone unfamiliar listening outside, it might seem like a madman was locked away in isolation.
And it wasn't entirely wrong. The harsh reality crashing down on him had driven the Duke halfway to madness.
"And that goddamn Crown Prince bastard! A so-called Grand Army commander who abandons his men and flees first? You cowardly piece of shit, you filthy pig. Garbage who should be wallowing in pig shit! I've spent two—no, three years preparing to catch you!! Why the hell?!"
In the Duke's eyes, the Crown Prince was a cowardly trash heap who deserved to be boiled in sewage. But from a strategic standpoint...
The Crown Prince's immediate flight the moment he was isolated by the Switchland forces was a masterful move to avert the worst-case scenario.
Moreover, showering an enemy commander with abuse on the battlefield— the harsher the insults, the more it ended up praising the foe.
Thus, the more the Duke demeaned the Crown Prince, the more it rang like lavish praise.
"And that bastard barely saved his own neck before running off, and now he's demanding 50,000 gold in reparations?! You hellbound heathen scum..."
The guy who had tucked tail and fled from Reichen Hill like a frightened puppy...
Now back home, he was brazenly demanding payment. At that image...
The Duke's anger, which had begun to cool, reignited.
He stomped the innocent dirt floor to vent his fury, gradually regaining the composure befitting the ruler of Switchland.
Eventually, he returned to his field bed, buried his face in the pillow, and muttered quietly.
"But he's not really thinking of fighting us for real. If he were, he'd have bowed his head to lower our guard even a little. At the very least, he wouldn't have openly blustered about attacking the Switchland army."
As the Duke said, in most cases, if the Reich Empire's Crown Prince truly intended to attack Switchland...
It would be far more advantageous to lull them into complacency rather than boast about readiness for war and give them time to prepare.
Thus, even the Switchland nobles—who would suspect him of baking bread with flour—unanimously agreed that the Crown Prince had no intention of starting a war now.
"Still, just in case he does come at us. We need to let the soldiers rest as much as possible and pull out of here the day after tomorrow at latest. Either way, I've lost this war..."
As the Duke admitted his reality and began contemplating just giving up and killing himself right there, a massive roar erupted from outside the tent.
"You Switchland mongrels, worse than dogs—die! Avenge the 7th Division!"
"Filthy invaders daring to trespass on Imperial soil. Don't let a single one live! Crush their skulls!"
"Death is the only fitting end for these bandits invading the Reich Empire. Kill them all!"
Hearing that, the Duke's mind raced to a swift conclusion.
'Fuck, we're done for.'
Right then, the tent flap burst open, and a messenger dashed in, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"The Reich Empire's Crown Prince is leading 50,000 troops in a night raid! Your Grace, we must flee now! It's too dangerous here!"
Duke Christian von Switchland felt something snap in his mind.
He slapped his own cheek hard.
Of course, it was all too real—the stung cheek throbbed with pain.
From afar came the dying screams of his soldiers. The stench of their blood wafted into the tent, assaulting his nose. Through the slightly open flap, he glimpsed Reich soldiers illuminated by the dim pre-dawn light, roaming the Switchland camp and slaughtering his men.
To the Reich Empire troops, it was a satisfying battlefield of vengeance against their tormentors. But to the Duke and his legion, this place had become hell.
"No, no... Fuck, this can't be happening! It can't!"
He screamed in denial of the nightmare, but the situation was too dire—no one tried to console him.
"Escort His Grace! We must get him back to Switchland! Hurry, you fuckers!"
"If His Grace dies or gets captured here, we're finished! Finished!"
"Even if we have to drag him, get him to the capital Zurich as fast as possible!"
Meanwhile, the duchy's nobles—barely armored—grabbed swords and spears and charged out to face the Reich Empire forces.
"Die! You damned Reich Empire bastards! It won't be easy to take my head!"
"Even twenty of you couldn't beat me!"
"Brave soldiers of Switchland, follow me, Baron Ain! Let's die honorably in battle! No cowardly fleeing!"
Those rushing into the fray were merely choosing to sacrifice themselves to protect Switchland's honor, their families, and their wealth.
No one was willing to risk their lives for the Duke, who had committed countless blunders in this campaign.
The Duke realized that now.
Despair gripped him as he saw his position had hit rock bottom... but bad luck comes in waves.
"It's the flag of the Imperial 7th Division! Major General Jaeger is fighting alongside us!"
"Major General Jaeger himself! He's cutting down the wicked invaders personally!"
"Long live the Reich Empire! Long live Major General Jaeger! Long live His Highness the Crown Prince!!"
Leading the Reich Empire vanguard was none other than Peter Jaeger, the Major General so hated by the Switchland army, personally butchering his soldiers.
Every Switchland soldier recalled the nightmare of facing the swordmaster—or rather, a monster beyond human limits—at Reichen Hill.
For over a month, without a single day of rest, he stood at the forefront with a small force, personally slaughtering over ten allies per clash.
Yet he never tired, swinging his blade leisurely as if toying with them.
The 7th Division soldiers clustered around that monster, fighting with fearless spirit and ruthless ferocity, sparing no lives.
All those elements were seared into the Switchland soldiers' memories—no, their very souls—as towering terror.
"Fuck, fuck! Mercenaries or whatever, I'm out! I'd rather fight an enemy knight barehanded than face Jaeger again. I'd cease being human."
"Mommy! Mommy! Fuck, why does that monster show up again? After hacking hundreds to pieces at Reichen Hill for a month, just die already, you conscienceless bastard!"
"...... Fuck, shoulda deserted. Why's Jaeger there?"
And so, soldiers began ignoring the nobles' commands.
At first, the nobles tried maintaining order by executing deserters to cover the Duke's retreat.
But as control failed and their numbers swelled, the nobles sensed it was over and despaired.
"Damn that Duke! Damn that Jaeger Major General!"
"Escort His Grace! Get him to Zurich at any cost!"
"We've lost this war. Save your skins!"
Thus, the nobles informed the exhausted troops of their defeat and ordered them to flee for their lives...
But knights charged from the front with lances leveled, while Jaeger's infantry pincered from behind.
"Fuck, easier said than done! You noble pricks!"
"Shut up and run! They won't chase into that goddamn forest!"
"...... Is this war?"
In this pre-dawn ambush, countless Switchland soldiers were slaughtered by the Imperial forces.
Meanwhile, Switchland's supreme commander, Duke of Switchland, managed to escape to Zurich under soldier escort.
But Switchland lost around 44,000 of the 100,000 troops mobilized as reserves.
Strategically, it was a draw between the Empire and Switchland.
Tactically, an overwhelming Imperial victory.
Thus, despite failing to detect the double agent and endangering the army, the Crown Prince preserved much of his standing.