Chapter 228
Chapter 228
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 228
Chapter Title: The Siege of Oslo(5)
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When I called it a trivial request, the prisoners from the Stockholm Kingdom in front of me looked at me with eyes full of wariness.
They were probably trying to figure out what an enemy commander like me wanted by suddenly showing up and saying I had a favor to ask.
Those worthless fools had picked the absolute wrong opponent if they thought they could play mind games with me.
No, what nerve did a bunch of lowly prisoner soldiers have to even think about bargaining with me...
"Lieutenant Aleksei, looks like we need to drill some sense into these idiots. Roll out the breaking wheel right now. Let's start by chopping off the heads of two or three of them."
"Yes, sir! If you're planning executions, mind if I bring my men along?"
"I'd love to show them heads rolling, but unfortunately, the fewer people who know about my secret little request, the better. Instead, I'll leave the beheading of those Ishtaven bastards tomorrow to you."
With that, the lieutenant headed off to fetch the wheel, and realization dawned on the prisoners' faces.
More precisely, the fear and terror of not knowing when they'd die—typical for prisoners—began to show clearly.
At last, they seemed ready for a civilized conversation.
"Let me ask again. Will you do me this small favor, or not?"
I lightly nicked the throat of one kneeling before me, drawing a bit of blood, and said,
"Do you want to die? The choice is yours. I won't force you either way."
Though I said that, I had no real intention of killing them if they refused.
After all, while it was no big deal in Europa to sell or kill prisoners after a victory, I'd lived over twenty years in South Korea and understood the importance of human rights.
As I began counting to five on my fingers, the men before me answered in unison.
"Just give us orders! Even if you tell us to bark like dogs, we'll bark like pros!"
"I've got a wife and kids waiting for me to come home safe after my discharge next year! Please, just spare our lives! Just our lives!"
"We'll do anything if you let us live, Lieutenant General, sir..."
They all slammed their foreheads to the ground, begging desperately—some so fervently that their foreheads were soon smeared with blood.
Now I felt ready to actually talk with these guys.
"Good. Then let me explain my trivial request. First off, I have the exact location of a dog hole leading inside the walls where your king resides, plus the guards' patrol routes down pat."
You lot have no idea how much hell I went through to gather that intel.
"Day after tomorrow at 8 p.m., our kingdom's spies will infiltrate Oslo Castle via that secured path. I'd like you to join them. What do you say—up for doing me this favor?"
If someone overheard my chat with the prisoners, they'd call it blackmail dressed up as a request. But in this era, prisoners had no rights, so no one would complain.
Were the prisoners in front of me all too aware of that?
"Just give the word, and we'll dive in headfirst—dog hole, fire hole, whatever!"
"Please, just keep that damned wheel away from us!"
"I want to go home, Lieutenant General, sir. Honestly, what glory were serf idiots like us chasing by joining the army?"
They were desperate to prove their worth.
"Fine. Then the fifty of you prisoners here will infiltrate Oslo Castle at my request. Once inside, set fire to every building in sight and stir up chaos. You'll get to play with fire under the moonlight."
Asking them to burn down the royal castle where their king stayed was apparently a huge shock—even with their lives on the line, they weren't jumping at the chance.
Makes sense. In this era, the king was practically a god. No one wants to torch the neighborhood of such a lofty figure.
"If moonlight arson doesn't appeal, speak up anytime. Just know the price won't end with death. Oh, and I was going to roll out the wheel if you refused, but I've changed my mind. Instead, after I claim victory over your king, I'll hand over the names of any refusers as collaborators who aided us. Guess what happens then?"
In the Reich Empire, Franco Republic, Stockholm Kingdom, and beyond, one common law was executing anyone colluding with the enemy—reason be damned.
And that execution extended to the traitor, their parents, spouse, and kids.
"Even if you reject my offer here to prove your loyalty, it won't help. Think about it—no high-up in your kingdom with a list branding your names as traitors is going to buy your story. You'll get a sham trial, endless torture, and then the noose alongside your families."
Especially now, with Stockholm's crushing defeat, they needed 'traitors' to sacrifice to the nobles' and people's rage.
Even if their king was a saintly genius who knew they were innocent, he'd still kill a token few to rule the kingdom going forward.
"Choose: risk your families' lives for loyalty here? Or take my offer and find a way to survive? Raise your hands if you'll do me the favor."
All fifty raised their hands, looking genuinely aggrieved.
Some couldn't hold back tears, but Stockholm prisoners or not, when they listened to me, they were my men.
"Sergeant Grakov, give each of them five gold. They're heading into a damn dangerous op for the Empire, so compensate them properly. But have anyone taking the gold thumbprint a pledge."
This way, they'd feel in the same boat as me and obey to the letter.
"The rest will be explained by the recon soldiers going with you. Succeed, and as promised, your names won't be sold to Stockholm. Take your five gold and head home, or spin a tale of 'went missing and came back' to your families—your call."
Unlike modern Korea, this era lacked proper resident registration or soldier tracking, so deserters rarely got punished if not caught red-handed.
Not a single lie in my words.
"Think hard: safe return with five gold, or defy me?"
With that, I left the prisoner tent.
"Recon battalion commander here?"
"Major Short von Aurburg of the Recon Battalion, sir. What do you need?"
"Once the op succeeds, release those fifty prisoners. No need to silence them by killing."
Major Short looked unconvinced.
"They'll be too busy torching Oslo Castle and your hundred recon boys circling it, picking off a few soldiers or armed movers before bugging out. And who’d believe them anyway?"
Though it might give Stockholm ammo to whine about later.
They pull that crap, I’ll just go, "Sure, Jan. Nice fanfic."
"Also, tomorrow night, mobilize three thousand Stockholm prisoners to belt out their kingdom's lovely tunes. That’ll yank the enemy's focus right off the walls."
"With their attention on the prisoners outside, our recon boys will be safe."
"Exactly. Succeed, and I'll back your promotion to lieutenant colonel—and even colonel down the line. Don't you want to retire as Baron Aurburg?"
And so, day after tomorrow at 8 p.m.,
Major Short von Aurburg of the recon battalion finished prepping to sneak into Oslo Castle with his hundred troops and the fifty Stockholm prisoners.