Chapter 275
Chapter 275
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 275
Chapter Title: Don't Bluff, Your Grace! (1)
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Griffino Castle, Grand Conference Hall.
We had succeeded in completely crushing the Warsaw Navy, but the Reich Empire's war was far from over.
It sounded like something straight out of a shonen manga's finale, themed around friendship, courage, and triumph—but no words captured our military's current situation better.
The Imperial Army had thoroughly defeated the wicked Warsaw land and naval forces in turn.
But we didn't stop there. To expand the gains of our victory, we pressed on with the war.
After the naval battle, I had split the Imperial Army into divisions and ordered them to assault the other castles near the western coast.
We were methodically surrounding each one, applying pressure to open their gates and forcing surrenders, steadily increasing our count.
Normally, besieging a castle with just one division and demanding they open the gates wouldn't work worth a damn. But when you'd delivered an overwhelming victory that instilled terror in the enemy, it worked like a charm.
Right on cue, urgent knocking sounded, and a lieutenant rushed in, dropping to one knee to report.
"Reporting to the Commander! Major General Stern's 19th Division has taken Bischof Castle, and Lieutenant General Mulke's 34th Division has captured Lublin Castle."
That made twelve castles we'd forced into unconditional surrender since our triumph at the Griffino naval battle.
Following tradition, I handed the lieutenant a gold coin for his hard ride and said,
"Well done. What tactics did they use to take the castles?"
"Both Major General Stern and Lieutenant General Mulke surrounded the castles and issued this threat: 'Surrender, or Commander Peter Jaeger will come personally! Open the gates before the siege engines arrive.' They couldn't hold out a week."
Those castles the lieutenant mentioned were cities of 15,000 people each—nearly 50,000 including the surrounding areas.
With walls to defend behind and mobilizing the civilians, they could've held off a single division. But the surrendering fools looked like cowardly idiots.
It wasn't that the mayors or lords of those castles were spineless cowards. It was because the Warsaw Grand Duchy's army and navy had been utterly pulverized by me until they were dust.
So when the mayors weighed their odds, even if they somehow held off the division in front of them by hunkering behind the walls and arming the populace, what came next wouldn't be Warsaw reinforcements—it'd be the infamous Jaeger Commander with siege engines in tow. They knew it was a fight they couldn't win, so they threw open the gates immediately.
"If you have no further messages to relay, take the day to rest before heading back."
"Yes, sir! Thank you!"
With that, the lieutenant flashed a grin at his windfall and bolted out the door.
"Man, back when I was that age, I'd have gotten chewed out for grinning like an idiot over a single gold coin in front of the Commander. Had to keep a straight face."
I grumbled to myself, then turned back to the Europa continent map, pondering how much territory we could carve out of the Warsaw Grand Duchy in the peace talks.
Lost in thought, time slipped by faster than I'd realized.
From outside came the tolling of Charlotte's bell.
The signal that the Warsaw Grand Duke would arrive soon.
Snapping to attention, I hurriedly summoned the on-duty officers and soldiers, ordering them to prepare tea and pastries for His Grace and his entourage.
We'd won an overwhelming victory, so we could've snubbed him to send the message, "We don't fear or even notice you." That might've scared him more.
But etiquette demanded the victor show generosity to the vanquished. We had to play nice.
Otherwise, after the war, the Foreign Minister would summon me for a lecture full of nagging and nitpicking.
Just as the reception was ready, knocking sounded, and the doors swung open to a booming voice.
"His legitimate Grand Duke of the Warsaw Grand Duchy, His Grace Stefan von Batory! All pay your respects!"
I immediately knelt on one knee and bowed my head in proper etiquette. The Grand Duke approached and stopped before me.
Then, with a benevolent smile as if he were my emperor, he said,
"Rise, Peter von Jaeger—Count, no, Commander. I've heard you're quite young, but you look barely into your mid-twenties."
"I just turned thirty. I'm still young and inexperienced, so please forgive any rudeness in these negotiations."
"I always like a spirited young man. Take my hand and stand."
As I took his hand and rose, I thought,
This bastard doesn't hold a speck of goodwill toward me. He's putting on a bold, magnanimous show for his Warsaw retainers to salvage some shred of dignity.
Politically, it was a decent tactic.
He'd lost nearly his entire navy and had his army shredded to pieces—things were a mess. But if he acted composed, some dimwitted subordinates might buy it.
"Oh, our Grand Duke maintains his dignity even in crisis! He's a true leader. I must pledge my loyalty!"
Even if they didn't fall for that, the facade could calm the anxieties of his generals and nobles to some degree.
That was fine for the Warsaw Grand Duke. But for me—the man who needed to tear him apart and stomp the pieces—it was unacceptable.
"Commander Jaeger, please, sit comfortably."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
The Warsaw Grand Duke sipped the tea and nibbled the pastries I'd prepared, maintaining an air of leisure that belied a man who'd lost everything in defeat.
He chatted about the tea leaves' origin, who baked the pastries, what he'd eaten today, and what to expect at tonight's banquet.
Warsaw had plenty of beauties—did the Reich Empire? He'd love to see my martial prowess firsthand.
The guy had to be burning inside from the defeat, yet he bluffed like this. What a vicious politician.
No—only someone who could pull off that level of acting could rise to Grand Duke. That's how he'd timed that absurd intervention request to the Reich Foreign Ministry from the Stockholm Kingdom, smacking me in the back of the head.
"Then let's begin the formal negotiations, Your Grace."
"Ah, time flies. Everyone else, out."
His guards and my commander escort stayed silent, the only ones remaining.
"The Reich Empire's demands are as follows: all Warsaw coastal territories, cession of the Königsburg Grand Duchy, 300,000 gold in reparations, and a formal apology for dispatching unauthorized reinforcements to the war against the Stockholm Kingdom."
Even to me, it seemed harsh. The leisure vanished from Batory's face.
But knowing any anger or anxiety would be ammunition for me, he twitched the corner of his mouth and barely held it in.
"Absurd terms—especially ceding the Königsburg Grand Duchy... Utter nonsense. No matter your decisive victory."
"Isn't the Königsburg Grand Duchy already yours through your heir, Prince Dorepan? Besides, it's a small state with scant population."
"......To swallow a grand duchy in one war? Shameless. I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Discuss realistic terms with your esteemed staff."
With that, the Grand Duke actually rose to leave.
Normally, I'd stop him—but every passing moment favored us.
Prolonging the war hurt the Imperials not at all, so I let him go, signaling it was fine.
As Stefan grasped the door handle, knocking came from outside.
The Grand Duke scowled irritably and said,
"Enter. Whatever it is, the Reich Empire has no sense of atmosphere."
"I'll discipline them harshly later."
Intrigued by what the messenger might say, Stefan didn't sit but waited standing.
In truth, I'd called in a herald mid-meeting to report territorial gains purely to seize the initiative.
But his face paled in terror at my threat of severe punishment—he wasn't acting.
"Report."
Thinking himself doomed, the messenger squeezed his eyes shut and blurted,
"Brigadier General Anastasia von Kerzhit's cavalry brigade has surrounded and captured Koszalin Castle! The enemy surrendered immediately upon encirclement."
Anya had struck big again. The Warsaw Grand Duke looked ready to foam at the mouth in shock, staggering from the mental blow.
Now, we could finally have a proper victor-and-vanquished talk.