Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Bandit Subjugation (1)
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In this world, bandits aren't like the thieves of the modern era who just steal goods, or mobsters who occasionally threaten civilians for money. They're incomparably vicious criminals.
These bastards commit heinous crimes like murder, pillaging, robbery, rape, kidnapping, and human trafficking as casually as eating a meal.
Most bandits stick to the mountains to avoid clashing with a lord's army, preying quietly on passing merchants and serfs.
But territories like ours, still developing with weak military forces, get raided outright.
Back in medieval times, countless bandits burned villages, looted them, and slaughtered or raped the inhabitants.
Even a well-organized state like Joseon, with its solid administration and military, dealt with Jurchens from the north kidnapping people like bandits on a daily basis...
In a society where a single bailiff could ruthlessly exploit a thousand people over years if he wanted, how common must these incidents be?
So when I received Baldt's report, my vision went white.
Still, I clung to my senses to grasp the situation and asked,
"How many are there? Where? Damn it, we're already short on troops. If there are too many, we might have to pay them tribute and send them packing..."
Baldt looked at me gravely and replied,
"Around fifty, I estimate. They're at Saint Mountain. About an hour by carriage from here. The info came from a merchant from the neighboring territory, so it might be off a bit..."
Phew, at least that's a relief.
The fact that it's only an hour away nags at me, but fifty isn't too bad. As long as there are no rogue knights among them-turned-bandits, our serfs alone could hold them off.
No, if it drags on too long, we'll have to mobilize the territory's serfs to drive them out...
There would be some casualties, but it'd be the surest way.
Or should I ask the baron for reinforcements?
But that might make him doubt my military capabilities...
As I pondered, Baldt cleared his throat a few times and spoke again.
"Fifty shouldn't be bold enough to invade our territory outright. But we need to control serfs trying to flee to other lands with surplus food. If I were a bandit, serfs hauling grain in fancy horse-drawn carts would look like a feast on wheels."
"Right. And then?"
"Two options. Hire mercenaries, or arm the serfs with farm tools and raid their stronghold."
Hearing that, I realized how narrow my thinking had been.
Plenty of jobless serfs around here, but also unemployed soldiers and knights aplenty.
That's how early mercenary bands formed from those drifters. Why hadn't I thought of it?
"Ah, mercenaries... Yeah, let's hire some. Our territory's income can cover that much."
Baldt nodded at my words.
"Wise choice, Young Master. Fifty bandits? Nah, thirty mercs will do to wipe out those riffraff. A few might die, but that's not our problem."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A week later, Baldt brought thirty mercenaries, just as we'd discussed.
They wore iron breastplates, gauntlets, and helmets, armed with short spears, bows and arrows, swords—whatever worked.
The cocky way they handled their weapons screamed "battle-hardened veterans who've rolled through hell."
This bunch looks worth the coin.
As I mused, the lead mercenary slammed his spear into the ground and bellowed,
"I'm Helmut, captain of this mercenary band! From this day until the bandits are crushed, the Crimson Honey Mercenary Company serves Young Master Siel von Kroitel, lord of Windheim. But per contract, you provide six silver coins and food daily. Fail on either, and the deal's off—bandits or no bandits!"
Same as my old world: mercenaries bolt if the pay stops.
Would these guys cut and run in a brutal fight where lives are on the line?
Still, veteran mercs against fifty ragtag bandits? They won't lose.
I extended my hand for a shake and said,
"Good. Looking forward to it. Thanks for coming to our territory."
"Thank you, my lord!"
"On my name and the honor of House Kroitel, you'll get paid. Plunder splits half per contract. Any complaints?"
Helmut grinned ear to ear at the honor pledge.
"None at all, my lord!!"
"Alright, let's start the briefing. We need to hash out the plan and move."
With that, Helmut and I headed to strategize.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The "war room" was just my office—nothing fancy.
Desk, a crude map of Saint Mountain and surrounds, a few wooden chess pieces. That's it.
Helmut entered, spotted Baldt in plate mail, and bowed politely.
"Sir Baldt? Pleasure. Helmut, captain of the Crimson Honey Mercenary Company."
Baldt liked the respect. He doffed his helmet onto the desk.
"Just Baldt. Commoner knight with no land. No need for formalities."
"Yes, Sir Baldt."
I waited for greetings to end, clapped to focus them, and said,
"How do we crush these bandits?"
Baldt picked up a red chess piece, placed it mid-mountain on a black dot, and scattered black pieces around the slopes.
"First, conscript 120 serfs to block the paths. Meanwhile, Helmut's mercs and I raid their lair from inside and smash them."
Too straightforward?
Even ragtag bandits outnumber the mercs...
"Baldt."
"Yes."
"Helmut's band is thirty. Thirty-one with you. Facing ambushed bandits in the mountains with that? Casualties incoming."
Baldt replied calmly, tension gone.
"Young Master, scouts circled their camp. Total rabble—no proper watch. Bandits drunk day and night, guards sneaking booze. Discipline's nonexistent. No worries."
"Still, it's enemy combatants. Even mercenaries..."
Helmut laughed loudly.
"Sloppy sentries? Nothing to fear, Young Master. 'Bandits' my ass—runaway serfs playing tough. We won't lose to scum like that."
"As Helmut says. If they had basic soldier discipline, maybe. But these idiots? No need for caution."
Helmut looked surprised.
A low knight openly defying the heir? Shocking, despite rank difference.
Other lords might rage.
But it shows trust: full authority or at least an ear lent.
So I dropped my 'lives are at stake, be careful' pushback.
I'm commander, but no military know-how.
Amateurs kill people, history says. Overconfident leaders always die.
Thus, coldly to Baldt:
"What's my role?"
"Lead the 120 serfs, camp at the base, block escapes."
"Got it."
Helmut watched our trust-based exchange, baffled.
His eyes screamed, 'How do these two trust like that?'
I ignored it, said flatly,
"Bandit subjugation begins. Let none escape."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Dawn next day, the operation launched.
As planned, I led serfs to camp at the mountain base.
Once confirmed, Baldt and Helmut took the mercs up.
Just me and serfs left, they started panicking.
Serfs huddled, whispering anxiously a bit away.
"Hey, what if bandits come down?"
"What else? Fight like hell. Run and get caught by Young Master? Heads roll."
"Easy for you... Those guys rob merchants in their lair. One bandit worth ten of us?"
"Nah, Sir Baldt and that Helmut captain just went up. They'll win."
Honestly, I half-agreed.
Criminals used to pillage and rape daily fight better than naive serfs.
Even modern armies drafted promising criminals over execution.
But trembling like that? Fear spreads.
So I approached, feigning total calm.
"You idiots! I'm right here—what's to fear?"
All eyes on me.
"Y-Young Master?"
"Scouts say they're runaway serfs like you—rabble. And we've nearly three times the numbers. Scared of what?"
Their faces eased.
"No worries! Babble about losing again, and I'll enforce military law harshly. Don't want beheading? Shut up and stand watch."
Serfs snapped to, disciplined.
"Yes, Young Master!"
Soon, a merc soldier rushed down.
"Young Master! Young Master!! Crimson Honey spearman Maine here! Letter from Captain Helmut!!"