Chapter 240
Chapter 240
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 240
Chapter Title: The Empire's Vikings (1)
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Over the course of two months, we underwent a wide variety of training under the marine instructors.
Swimming techniques to stay afloat even in armor, bare-skinned ocean swims, running laps on deck to adapt to shipboard conditions, mock battles, and more...
Not a single one was easy.
So, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to leverage the prestige of my four stars to skip all that training...
But for the northerners, who had spent their lives raiding on horseback, the sea was an object of terror. To weaken that fear, I needed to train right alongside them.
Under normal circumstances, with tens of thousands under my command, I could delegate minor command details to my subordinate officers.
But this time, we were deploying only about eight thousand troops, so I judged that efficient command required me to take the field personally.
Thus, this training was a process I simply had to endure.
"Hah, fuck. A four-star general taking drills from marines. Is this even an army...? At least the ship's not rocking as much."
Vincent, Charlotte's younger brother and a junior staff officer at my side, responded to my grumbling.
"Since you led by example, sir, enduring the same training as the northern light cavalry, they had no choice but to throw themselves into it with everything they had. Thanks to that, we achieved remarkable results in such a short time. Even the marine instructors were impressed by how quickly you adapted."
Never mind how hard the northerners trained— their culture still held that they should follow the strongest as their chieftain.
To maximize their morale, I needed them to acknowledge me as their leader.
I had to prove, with every ounce of my strength, that I was militarily superior to any northerner.
That's why, even when the other soldiers showed fatigue, I pretended to be fine time and again...
But that's all in the past now, isn't it?
"If I'd shown even a hint of weakness in training, those northerners would've been hugely disappointed. That's why I pushed so hard. Anyway, first real combat for you— not nervous?"
"What do I have to fear serving under the rising star of the Imperial Army—no, the empire's greatest commander?"
"When I was your age, heading to my first frontline, I was quietly shaking. You kids these days have some real guts. I'm looking forward to it."
I admitted to being nervous before Vincent for my first battle, but in truth, far from nerves, as a damned commoner orphan, I was desperate to escape my fate by any means, single-mindedly seizing the chance without a moment to fear death in battle...
So I never had room for anxiety like that. No need to tell him the truth and kill the mood, though.
As if my sincerity had paid off, Vincent looked relieved, realizing he wasn't the only one scared on his debut deployment.
"By the way, did Charlotte say anything to you before your first outing? She told me it was fine if I didn't rack up any merits—just come back alive."
This was the first time Charlotte, who had been assisting me, would be separated from me for such a long stretch.
This raiding campaign involved constant mounted movement, so even though she could ride, her status as a non-combatant left her no choice but to sit it out.
After our farewell, she'd said to me...
'You'll be all fired up from the battlefield thrill, so make sure to come find me. No matter how hot you are, I'll cool you down as best I can.'
A classic devoted wife remark, but I had a premonition I'd end up wrung out dry like a desiccated squid when I got back.
"She told me to fight with the resolve to throw my life away without bringing shame to you, Commander Jaeger. And if we win this war and return, she'd ask Lady Laura or Her Highness Louise to help find me a good wife..."
Lieutenant Vincent said this with an expression secretly yearning for marriage...
No, I just got lucky with my wife— typical arranged marriages are hell.
Proof? Look at all the field-grade officers I've met in my military career: barring a few exceptions, they'd diligently pack gifts for their sons, daughters, and concubines,
but their relationship with their wives was so distant it was worse than strangers, settling for perfunctory gifts that matched their status.
I couldn't say that outright. I just hoped this fool would snap out of it and date someone— even from a serf family would do— and get married...
"Yeah, marriage is great. But later is better. I learned that the hard way by marrying late."
"Is that so? But officers usually..."
"No, just marry late. As late as possible."
As I bantered leisurely with Vincent like that, the warning bell suddenly rang out.
I'd planned to peaceably turn the Warsaw bastards' coastal regions to ash, so who the hell was ruining our pleasant voyage?
Those damned Warsaw Grand Duchy ships— were they actually doing their jobs instead of stealing pay?
At the same time, above the captain's cabin where Vincent and I were, came the sound of soldiers' footsteps and officers shouting on deck.
"Unfurl all sails to maximum! We need top speed!"
"Combat troops, check your weapons! Any idiot who pulls out a spear first, come see me voluntarily. I'll kill you here before the enemy does. Don't think of harming our own."
"Swords, axes, bows, arrows! No bow? Get crossbows ready! Load those crossbows fully! Slowpokes, fuck, I'll roll you under the deck for a lap!"
Sensing the tension, I rushed up to the deck and demanded,
"Lookouts! How many enemy ships? What affiliation?"
"Predicted to be Warsaw Grand Duchy vessels! About forty ships! However, their ships appear larger than ours, so we estimate they carry more troops!"
"What's the most critical distance?"
"Roughly seven hundred meters!"
...If we let even one of those damned bastards slip away, my plan to sack Warsaw's port cities could go up in smoke.
Because common sense dictates that if thousands of Reich Empire troops show up by sea and raid them, they'd alert their own faction and nation first.
News like this spreads at tremendous speed via couriers who can cover up to seventy kilometers a day.
So, our job now was to sink every last one of those leisurely crawling ships without exception, preventing any from sending word.
"We can't let a single one of those thieving Warsaw rat bastards escape! Spread the formation wide laterally! Throw every last rower into the oars and push speed to the limit!"
At my command, officers and men alike rushed to their posts without hesitation, moving as fast as possible.
Some nomads, under the guidance of marines with ship-handling experience, unfurled sails and sprinkled sand on the deck as they scurried about.
Those not under direct marine orders loaded bolts into crossbows one by one or began preparing countermeasures like lowering oil barrels below deck.
Meanwhile, the Reich Empire ships, with my flagship at the center, began fanning out left and right like a bird spreading its wings.
"What's the enemy doing? Avoiding combat, or gearing up to engage? If they run, we'll abandon pursuit and raid the nearest coastal city. If they're fighting, we'll kill or capture every last one!"
"P-Please wait a moment!"
"We die if we wait, lookout!"
"The enemy intends to engage. They're concentrating on their flagship to punch through the center of our formation!"
Hearing that, I was thrilled—we'd dodged the worst case of them fleeing and avoiding battle.
Flight would've been a nightmare, but here they were, graciously coming to fight us.
Later, if we captured their fleet commander as a POW, I'd thank him personally with a hot meal.
"Long live the Reich Empire! Long live the Great Khan! Long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor!"
"Let's slaughter every dog who branded us traitors, not one spared!"
"Time to show these scum the iron fist of the great Reich Empire! Hooray!"
The northerners' morale had peaked beyond maximum, so if we fought now, victory was ours.
"For every enemy ship you capture, you'll each get an extra silver as bonus pay! This is guaranteed by His Imperial Majesty himself, so seize as many as you can! And kill as many as you can to personally execute the bastards who called you traitors! Raise the rams!"
The northerners, stars of this battle, all cheered as they fully prepared for combat on deck. When the distance between our ships and theirs closed to about seventy meters,
"Now! All hands, loose arrows! One more volley before we collide!"