Chapter 63
Chapter 63
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Pig Hunt (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
My teacher Clausewitz once said, "It takes one full hour just for the rear of an 8,000-man division to march up to the vanguard's position."
And because moving such a massive number of troops at once requires tremendous time and effort, they can usually only cover 3 to 5 miles in a day.
Therefore, a wise commander should divide the army into as many small units as possible, keeping them within a range where they can mutually protect each other during the march.
And any commander with actual experience leading troops would agree with that.
Even in our very first battle at Esslon Plain, what would have taken me three days on foot took the marching army a full twenty days to reach.
However, maintaining that 'mutual protection range' is difficult, and the armies of this era are mostly composed of conscripted serfs serving without pay, so morale is rock bottom.
Splitting the army into smaller units makes desertion that much easier, and as a result, you can go out with 10,000 men and arrive with only 6,000 to 7,000—a bit of magic right there.
But our army is different from those half-baked rabble. We're a standing army, and unlike even the early modern states of Europe, we provide timely paychecks as a benefit, so we don't have to worry about desertion when dividing our forces.
Plus, to speed up the soldiers' march, we loaded all the food, tents, weapons, and armor onto wagons...
Which allowed us to cover about 15 miles a day—not exaggerating much.
The result?
"Your Excellency, according to the report from Lady Belladora on the advance scout, Sternheim Plain is just one hour's march from here."
Schwein surely never imagined our army could reach here in just two weeks after the war began.
Besides, considering the distance from Nant Castle to here, Schwein probably won't arrive for another five days at least.
"Anything else from Chris?"
"Lady Belladora confirmed that aside from the three companies following Your Excellency, all units have assembled and set up camp. And please accept this."
With that, the messenger dismounted, then politely handed me a map with both hands.
"A map of Sternheim Plain?"
"Yes. Lady Belladora insisted I deliver it personally and report back Your Excellency's reaction."
"Understood."
Hearing that, I quickly unrolled the map.
A vast plain centered around one village of about 1,000 people, two villages of around 800, 3,000 hectares of farmland... and a massive river flowing about thirty minutes from our camp...
The ideal spot to face the enemy army is along the riverbank—they'd have to cross the river to attack us, giving us the advantage...
This level of scouting and planning deserves a perfect score of 100 out of 100.
Any commander whose head isn't completely empty could devise an excellent strategy from this alone.
"Perfect. Chris really is something else. Tell her I was impressed. And summon all captains and above so we can start the war council the moment I arrive."
"Yes, sir."
The messenger finished speaking, swiftly mounted up, and galloped off to relay my orders.
Chris Belladora—she holds my secret and has the guts to pursue an official position, unlike most women of this era.
With talent matching that spirit, and considering her merits in this war, maybe I should keep her by my side instead of Baldt, under the guise of surveillance... and raise her up.
Baldt's great and all, but he can't handle anything beyond what's ordered.
Shaking off those stray thoughts, I spurred my horse to quicken the pace.
>
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The camp my army had set up under Chris's lead was nearly flawless.
The soldiers' tents were divided into sectors of 500 men each to prepare for potential night raids, and as I'd instructed, the kitchens and latrines were placed at sufficient distances.
For the latrines, I'd only told them not to bury waste near the camp, but Chris went a step further: she set up large wooden barrels for each platoon and even scheduled rotations for the soldiers to empty them...
Thanks to that, the company I led could set up camp an hour faster than usual.
As a result, that very night upon arrival, I gathered all the commanders for a war council.
>
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ When I entered the largest command tent for the war council, I found a makeshift table and chairs already set up from stacked shields, with the commanders seated.
They all started to rise at the sight of me, but I waved them down—no need.
Once I sat, Chris entered, hung an enlarged version of the map I'd seen behind my left shoulder, and began the briefing.
"Chris Belladora reporting the current situation as per Baron Your Excellency's orders. Since arriving here as the vanguard, we've thoroughly scouted all areas within a three-day march on foot, but no sign of Schwein's forces yet."
Even at the shortest estimate, that means we have at least three days here to rest and reorganize the troops.
Moreover, our position allows quick strikes on Nant Castle and the enemy's key strongholds.
So the enemy will absolutely try to drive us out as fast as possible, meaning they'll fight us in an exhausted, disorganized state.
"Good. Any estimate on the enemy's numbers?"
Answering that was my father, Viscount Kroitel.
"Assuming the letters I've exchanged with the other barons hold true, two out of the eight will sit it out... so about 1,600 knights and 18,000 infantry."
Even excluding the gains from annexing Helsman County—the count's direct lands and his vassal knights...
Honoring the late Count of Nant's will by naming my father as guardian, why are these barons still siding with Schwein?
By my calculations, four out of eight should have defected by now, with maybe one surrendering outright...
"Father, why are the other barons still backing Schwein in this situation? Their justification for serving him as lord is already shattered, and just following him should be shredding their 'honor'."
Father rubbed his temple, his voice laced with irritation.
"We have the justification and flashy victories so far... but they outnumber us eight-to-one in knights and over three-to-one in soldiers. Plus, the count promised unlimited plunder if they win this war."
Insane. The costs of this war are no joke, yet he ignores it all to boost noble and soldier morale with 'unlimited plunder'...
To charge ahead without a thought for consequences—that's impressive in its own way!
If he authorized plundering a wealthy, food-abundant territory like our Kroitel, the conscripts' morale would be sky-high, dreaming of grabbing loot and women.
And soon enough, enraged knights started piping up about the unlimited plunder.
"Is that even human!?"
"Hey now, it's Schwein. Just a piglet—no human there."
"Truly the great Count of Nant, Your Excellency! Heathens have more honor!!"
To boost our own morale, I chimed in with their lines, adding a crude sexual joke—the knights' favorite.
"Back when I was in Nant, they said Schwein goes into heat like a rutting pig at the sight of any married woman. He even tried for Ella but failed. Hilarious! I figured when I accepted his duel challenge, he'd land not a single hit before getting tenderized into schnitzel! Such a shame I couldn't fry him up in front of everyone— all because of the count's title he inherited from Daddy!!"
At that, every knight who never laughed in anger burst into mad cackles.
A moment later, I pointed my baton at the opposite riverbank on the map.
"Thus, we shall honorably meet the rutting pig and his lackey knights head-on. Arrange our wagons in a circle like a fortress where I indicated. I'll hold it with the infantry."
The knights and commanders exchanged glances, as if checking if they'd misheard.
They shared silent looks asking, 'Is this for real?' Confirmed it, then rose in unison to protest.
"Your Excellency, no!! Honorable Baron Your Excellency fighting alongside infantry, leaving the knights aside?"
"We agree with Your Excellency on everything else, but not this. Command the women instead. What nonsense is this?"
"Exactly!!"
As they said, nobles of this era—especially titled lords like me—never fight alongside infantry.
Because it's an age that sees an insurmountable wall between knights charging on horseback in armor and mere foot soldiers.
That's why, even though I can't wield a lance for a charge, I fought alongside them at Esslon.
But now, I must stand at the infantry's vanguard, so to silence them, I drew my sword, slammed it on the table, and declared.
"Quiet!! I understand your points, but infantry may differ in status from you—they know honor too! After seeing men like Sergeant Mark, Sergeant Major Short, Lieutenant Frost, how can you demean the infantry?! And where did you learn to babble about 'honor' without hearing your lord out?!"
Never before had I crushed the knights like this; they were all shocked, staring blankly at me.
“Listen well. The greatest disgrace is defeat; the greatest honor is victory. I would rather fight a little dirty and seize victory than accept an honorable loss. And when that victory is ours, I will share its spoils with all of you. To that end, I will stand on the front line alongside the infantry.”
Then, drawing circles symbolizing wagons on the map, I continued the explanation.
"We'll use 150 wagons, one platoon per wagon: 15 crossbowmen, 10 pikemen, 5 halberdiers as organized. I'll take the frontmost wagon facing the enemy. Nearby infantry not clashing with knights will wait inside the wagon fort, then when the enemy's charge breaks, sweep around their right flank, leaving one side open to envelop them. Questions so far?"
Father, speaking for all, voiced their concerns.
"Can wagons alone stop a knightly charge? Even idiots won't charge a defended position. And if we repel the knights, their infantry remains. How do we handle them?"
Valid points. Heavily armored horses and riders can smash through thin-walled houses, exaggerating only a bit.
And my plan ignores the 18,000 infantry entirely—if their commanders regroup them... 'while we get wiped out.'
"Wagons alone? Even iron-hearted knights can't maintain full speed against a hail of crossbow bolts. Crossbows fly straight, so the front ranks and their horses will suffer the most terror... speed cut in half, at least. I've equipped the crossbowmen with goat's-foot levers that nearly double reload speed. So one-fifth to one-tenth of the knights will already be dead on the charge. Think they can break our sturdy wagons?"
The knights imagined the bolt storm; some paled visibly.
"Terror-stricken, honor will drive those first knights to keep charging until they hit the wagons. Reforming after? Chaos. Strike their flank then... the knights are annihilated. And we'll capture the count inside."
Should I bet my wrist that demoralized infantry will surrender without knights?
But they seemed to abandon rebuttals, just staring blankly.
To give them conviction, I spoke calmly, assured of victory—like when implementing four-field rotation, making sugar, winning at Esslon, or taking Helsman Castle with just 3,000 men.
"I, Siel von Kroitel, have already won. Rack up merits in this victorious war: take lands and wealth from me for your families. Knights who excel get larger estates and elevated house status; officers, knighthoods and noble honor; soldiers, more land and prosperous lives—I promise it."
>
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A week later, the great Schwein Your Excellency and I faced off about 100 meters apart.
Even from afar, Schwein's army was split into 'idiot infantry who can't even form ranks properly' and his elite knights.
That shows he expects nothing from the infantry—classic Schwein, pathetically hopeless.
So, to lure the pitiful Schwein into my trap and end his life miserably, I opened my mouth.
Using the trash-talk provocation called 'medieval war's opening garbage' and my ultimate keyboard warrior skills honed battling reverse gallery dwellers in Korea—who live there yet claim honorary citizenship of the Great Japanese Empire.
"Schwein von Nant!! They say you go into heat at married women and can't live without groping them!! Tried for Ella with that devil's lust but failed—hilarious! I thought when I took your duel, you'd miss every swing, get pounded to schnitzel, then fried! Shame I couldn't bread you publicly—all because of Daddy's inherited count title!!"
My soldiers erupted in wild laughter.
"Oh, sorry Schwein. You ditched the loyal Kroitel barony, deserted the lance charge vanguard—you're honorless trash. Insulting the honorless just makes me the fool. Hey! I need a confessor to absolve my sin of trash-talking trash per war custom!! Holy water?!"
Someone sensibly brought not holy water, but a cup—Sergeant Mark, my most trusted platoon vice-leader.
Rinsing my mouth with it, I bellowed my next taunt at Schwein.
"Pitiable honorable knights serving honorless trash! And his soldiers!! I pity you. In mercy for your lives, I'll teach you what a 'true honorable war' is one last time! But our knights are too high-class for weaklings like you, so I'll meet you as infantry. Come charging tomorrow morning as promised!! This elder will personally gift you honor for the afterlife."