Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Esron Plains Battle (1)
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When I received the declaration of war, I'd actually half-expected it.
After all, poor kings from struggling nations had always waged war on richer countries to seize their wealth, satisfying their own power-hungry ambitions and those of their vassals.
It's a law as universal as any truth in history.
So, the ones who declared war this time must have been jealous of how our territory had prospered compared to before. They probably saw this as a chance to grab a piece of the pie.
At least they'd used their heads enough to realize that the forces of a single barony could never beat us, no matter how they sliced it. That's why two barons from their side were teaming up to invade...
Even so, they couldn't have more than a few more serfs than us at best. Our advantages in food, money, and the loyalty of our people were obvious...
With those thoughts in mind, I headed to the council chamber where the war council was already underway.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Even before I entered the council chamber, I could hear my vassals shouting in fury at my absence, their anger barely contained.
"The Celt Baron of Romania and the Santoburg Baron? Those lowborn pretenders dare challenge our Baron Excellency?!"
"Even as fellow barons, those Romanian scum aren't fit to breathe the same air as Excellency!"
"And don't forget, Baron Excellency's father, Paul von Kroitel—himself a viscount! Those filthy dogs could never match his nobility."
"Yet they treat him as their equal? If they knew the meaning of honor, they'd fight fair and square! But no—we'll thrash those curs with honor aplenty!"
...Back when I first inherited the barony, these same people had dismissed me as "just a 17-year-old baron—what could he do?" But after I turned the bastards into proper folk with promotions and bought up all the grain taxes myself, now they practically worshipped me...
I wondered what Viscount Kroitel would think if he saw this scene.
Still, even if it was a bit absurd, it was good to see our territory's nobles showing me their full support.
No, it actually filled me with confidence. Their unity would make victory in this war all the more certain.
As I stepped into the room where they were locked in heated debate, my vassals snapped to attention in perfect formation to greet me.
"You've all worked hard. So, Sir Frost, where do you think we should strike?"
"In my view, we'll clash on the Esron Plains. We'll field two thousand foot soldiers and fifty knights... They'll come with at least twenty-five hundred, probably thinking to plunder us."
"And?"
"No other place suits a clash of such large forces, as far as I know—aside from the Esron Plains. They've specified it themselves, so let's meet them there like true knights in an honorable battle."
An honorable battle, a fair war... My history-buff senior from my studies would've laughed at that.
"The dumbest fool in the world fights fair and square. Sure, issue a proper declaration of war, but anything beyond that's for idiots. It throws away every strategic edge from ambushes."
For a moment, I considered jumping in with night raids or ambushes... but our intel was still too thin.
"Twenty-five hundred soldiers... We'll be outnumbered."
"It's the quality that matters. Eight out of ten of their infantry will be conscripted serfs—they can't stand against our trained troops."
"Understood. Then let's go over the full battle plan once more."
Sir Frost bowed before me and continued.
"First, we'll march our standing army of two thousand along the Lime Mountains, arriving at the Esron Plains a day ahead of the enemy to set camp. We'll gauge their numbers precisely. If they exceed four thousand, we'll fall back and rally the full army at the Esheim Plains, thirty kilometers from here, for the decisive engagement."
"I see. And the troop composition?"
"Fifty knights, fifteen hundred spearmen, four hundred crossbowmen, and a hundred soldiers to guard the supply lines running from the rear. The supply troops each get a wagon, and since we're marching through friendly territory, there's no need to worry."
As a complete novice to war, I had no criticisms for this plan.
No—it struck me as brilliantly efficient.
Especially deploying four hundred crossbowmen. From my analyses of battles, most casualties came from ranged weapons like bows...
The veteran knight had clearly drawn from his experience for maximum effect.
"Excellent. We'll do it that way."
With the war framework sketched out, Jack looked surprised as he spoke up from beside me.
"Young Master, no other ideas? I figured you'd pull out one of your usual brilliant strokes we never saw coming..."
Honestly, as Jack said, if I put my mind to it, I could probably suggest something innovative.
Like the Spanish tercios—increase crossbows flanking the spearmen on both wings, then rain arrows once they clash.
Or invade their territory first, plunder their lands, and use villagers as bait to shatter their morale...
Tactics undreamt of by warriors steeped in chivalry and old habits filled my head.
But even with those, I'm no Napoleon or Admiral Yi Sun-sin, a genius tailor-made for war. No guarantee of success on the first try.
Worse, if a greenhorn like me pushes untested strategies and fails, it'd be a witch-doctor killing his own patient.
So unless it's a fight no standard tactic can win, better to heed the advice of veterans seasoned on the field a hundred times over.
"This is my first war. On matters of battle, I trust your judgment."
The other knights smiled and nodded, pleased that I placed faith in them.
"We'll follow this plan until we sight the enemy. Prepare thoroughly and march out in two months. Dismissed!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Among historians and soldiers, one saying reigns as absolute truth.
"Amateurs debate tactics; experts discuss logistics and marches."
And preparing for this war drove home exactly why.
Even for a few thousand—not tens of thousands—the food alone ran to hundreds, even a thousand tons. Iron and weapons? Dozens of tons.
Water vanished in a blink, so marches had to hug rivers or lakes, or soldiers would die of thirst.
No matter how much I loaded, three days max before it ran dry.
Beyond food, water, and iron: tents and cloth for camps, repair materials for wagons, blacksmiths for weapons, booze and even camp followers to keep morale up...
Tally it all, and it was like a whole city on the move.
Forecasting and calculating it all was beyond imagination, forcing expenditures I'd never dreamed of.
Thank goodness the four-field rotation had boosted my grain reserves enough to fight without buying wheat or barley.
If I'd had to purchase grain too? Easily five hundred gold coins gone.
That's a full year's budget for an average barony...
Mulling that over, I reviewed the budget and purchase ledgers, then sighed.
"Haa... Fighting a war will be tough, but preparing? No joke."
Baldt responded to my musing.
"That's why bailiffs and inspectors usually handle it—nobles like Excellency just do the final check. But you insisted on overseeing it yourself. Talk about extra hardship."
"Had to. Who'd think those bailiffs would try embezzling even knowing I'd watch? A forty-liter keg of beer logged as half a silver coin—they put one silver! If I'd trusted the summary, it'd be twenty gold embezzled."
"Hahaha, Excellency..."
Baldt's awkward chuckle only stoked my anger as I recalled it.
"That I could forgive. But when I ordered wheat from the granary sacked for wagons... they planned to mix in rotten grain and dirt? Embezzlers I get, but rotting grain and soil? What were they thinking?"
"Common enough among troops, but..."
"If that's 'common,' our territory's doomed. Imagine dysentery hitting before battle. We'd lose."
Baldt, deflated by my firm tone despite no fault of his own, replied glumly.
"You're right, Excellency."
Seeing that, I felt bad for snapping at him unjustly.
"No, Baldt. We've already hanged or enslaved the worst offenders by severity. Won't happen again."
"Yes. And your standing among the troops has improved. Word is, you're a benevolent lord who personally ensures their rations."
I'd just punished corrupt scum tormenting my soldiers, and now I'm a benevolent lord...
The praise, a touch excessive, still warmed me.
"Good, then it worked out. Corrupt servants punished, troops' opinion up. Alright, Baldt—head in and rest. All supplies checked."
Baldt beamed ear to ear.
"Really?"
"Yes. Go on. Haa... I need rest too. But march tomorrow—no heavy drinking."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Dawn broke before I knew it, and my first war in this life was upon me.
Up late buried in papers the night before, I felt the tension of marching to war but slept deeply from sheer physical exhaustion—waking refreshed, luckily.
Thus, I faced my debut campaign free of fatigue.
From my office, I strode slowly, confidently toward the plaza outside the gates where the troops awaited.
Seeing me off to war, a few citizens—grateful for my wise rule, no doubt—showered me with flowers in welcome.
Soon after, I mounted my horse amid the assembled ranks beyond the gates.
Then, gazing at the soldiers, I bellowed.
"Full march! Crush the two clueless barons who dared declare war on us!"