Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Pig Hunt (4)
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Hearing those words, His Excellency Count Schwein von Nant trembled all over, as if recognizing it was an irrefutable fact, and cried out.
"You bastard! I personally favored your family and appointed your father as my guardian, making him a viscount and granting him vast lands! And yet you dare break our contract, you godless wretch? Are you even human, you vile scum wearing a man's skin? I swear I'll personally lead my army to smash the heads of the Kroitel father and son with my mace!"
No, nobody's buying that. I'd sooner believe someone made soybean paste with red bean paste.
See? Normally, this kind of talk would have the soldiers shouting to boost morale, but it's so quiet you can hear the crickets.
A moment later, cheers erupted from the camp where Count Schwein's knights were gathered.
"Long live His Excellency Count Schwein! Curse the treacherous House of Kroitel!!"
"Down with Kroitel! Long live Nant!!"
At the knights' cheers, the enemy soldiers began shouting in forced response.
It looked pathetic.
As if to shatter that, Schwein started shouting again—or rather, squealing.
"Knights and soldiers! I am magnanimous! I, Schwein von Nant, the generous count, swear this: if we crush that loathsome treacherous spawn of Kroitel, I permit unlimited plunder of the enemy! Take their women and wealth as you would from heretics! All the riches of Kroitel are yours!"
Damn it, for Schwein to outright say the simplest yet most effective mad declaration in history: 'We're committing war crimes, so we have to win.'
This will boost our soldiers' morale too, but the enemy's even more...
Time to stop this trash talk and prepare for tomorrow's battle.
So I uttered the words always said before starting a war in this era.
"May God Deus be with us in the war between Schwein von Nant and Siel von Kroitel, and grant victory to the side He deems more righteous! Soldiers of Kroitel, return to your tents and offer prayers to the Lord!"
I said that, but while they're praying, I'll review the strategy once more and consider command placements.
And for my plan to succeed, I need to move at dawn with the troops, and find a wagon platoon to protect me.
Which platoon should I fight with to survive...
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ At dawn on the agreed day of battle, Ella, who had slept in the same tent, whispered in my ear to wake me.
"Master, please protect me. Wake up."
Ella's sincere words toward me instantly dispelled my sleepiness.
Then, as always, I dressed naturally and began donning my armor with her help.
From waking me until now, she hadn't shown any tension, considerate of me.
Unlike previous battles, sending me into a fight where we were outnumbered several times over must have terrified her. Even through her armor, her hands trembled visibly.
Yet after helping me into my armor, Ella calmly continued as if nothing was wrong.
"All done, Master."
It must scare her to send me into such a disadvantageous war, but I admired how she pretended not to be afraid for my sake.
So I stroked her head and said,
"Ella, don't worry. I'll come back safe. When I do, let's drink some wine like we did in Esilon and share old stories. Right, you went to Windheim a few days ago? Tell me about that too."
Hearing that, Ella's tension eased, tears welling in her eyes as she replied.
"Yes, Master. I'll definitely tell you."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The season was already early spring, with dandelions and roses budding, frozen rivers thawing, and sprouts emerging in the fields.
Yet winter lingered on this Europian soil, the dawn air still chill as winter itself.
Breathing out, white mist was visible.
In this cold hour when one wanted to sleep more, soldiers emerged with the wagons—Wagenburgs—for battle, building a fortress of lifesaving carts.
Platoon and company commanders issued orders, running about for the operation's success; some even grabbed hammers, pounding and shoveling alongside the men.
"Drop that wagon a bit more! Hurry!! Don't leave space for two or more enemy horses!!"
"Check the left wagon wall opens! Fix it quick if not!!"
"Idiot! Shovel like this! You farmed, but can't shovel better than me?"
Normally, officers equivalent to nobles would just supervise, leaving most orders to NCOs like sergeants...
But in wartime, even high-ranking platoon and company leaders joined in.
To set an example, I rode around the working companies, encouraging them.
In a Korean army, a division commander joining work would burden soldiers and crush officers...
But here, the 'division commander above the clouds' encouraging lowly fools like us was a grace, not a burden.
No exaggeration: to them, it's like a Hollywood star fan meeting their top idol who says, 'Thanks for watching my movie. I remember you, Mr. 00.' and signs an autograph.
And so...
"Company commander, doing well. But the gaps between wagons are a bit wide. Can you adjust? Good work. Take care of the men too. Fighting with reliable men like you, even thousands of wild boars don't scare me. Give it more effort."
Even formal encouragement like this elicits fierce reactions.
"Your Excellency! Joining Your army was the best choice of our lives!!"
"To fight alongside wretches like us... No soldier in history has had such honor."
"Ugh... Y-Your... Excellency..."
My single encouragement reignites them with resolve to repay even in death.
Of course, a commander boosting morale means sending men to die for 'me and my victory'—harsh reality.
Seeing them work so hard for me fills me with pride and gratitude, yet guilt for leading them to death.
Lost in such thoughts, as I nearly finished inspecting and encouraging the wagon setups, Chris and Baldt approached.
By hierarchy, Baldt reported first.
"Your Excellency, the 200 knights are positioned mid-formation as you ordered. Platoon leaders commanding 10+ knights have been informed of all 'wagon gaps' to exploit based on enemy knight positions."
"Good work. No matter how I hold, without you knights as the hammer, we'd die like dogs. Who's leading the wedge charge vanguard?"
"The vanguard... Viscount Excellency volunteered. Tried to dissuade him, but he insisted as former guardian, he must end 'Nant's last'..."
If my father, next most admired by knights, leads the lance charge, their morale will soar.
And as vanguard, no spare thought for protecting Count Nant.
I know from experience: even first row of 5-rank rectangular formation leaves no room for thought...
In the most burdensome wedge charge vanguard...
"Let him. But ensure full plate armor—he can't die. You and Frost take right behind."
"Yes, sir."
"And Chris, infantry company commanders and above got the 'operation summary'? They must understand for encirclement to complete..."
Chris beamed proudly.
"No worries, Your Excellency. Explained kindly with drawings. Told any confused to follow knights out the gaps—they'll manage."
"And?"
"To delay enemy infantry support, you said scatter 'armor, weapons, money, grain'? Bribed some local serfs to spread rumors deserters left them behind."
"Well done. Head back. Baldt, stay."
Chris mounted swiftly to his 'main base defense' unit.
Just one company, but still.
Confirming Chris gone and no one nearby, I whispered to Baldt.
"Baldt, if possible... break Schwein's limbs and bring him. Helps me legally inherit 'count title' smoothly. You know?"
Baldt grinned wickedly, understanding.
"Payback for touching Ella, eh? Your Excellency... I was thinking the same—honored. But after, 'unofficial' reward..."
Seeing his wicked grin, I grinned more wickedly.
"Listen: 50 gold per arm, 60 per leg. Powder him? +10 per. 'On time' to your tent... Wait, lost pouch. Owner unclear—whoever takes it...
"Thank you, Your Excellency."
Generous, but in this era valuing noble courtesy, most knights might refuse: 'I'd rather beat him!!'
Baldt's the best—friends do anything for gold...
Or hates Schwein that much?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Hours later, I entered a wagon on the south side of the perfectly set-up combat wagon wall.
Soldiers tried prostrating in the cramped space; I stopped them.
"Battle's soon—no need. Didn't I say I'd fight with you? Here to honor my sworn pledge. So, Lieutenant Frost, Sergeant Mark—count on you."
They replied, voices tearful with emotion.
"Thank you!! Your Excellency!!"
"We'll die to protect you!"
"Nonsense. All survive. Earn merits to empty my pouch. You there—soldier!"
The called soldier recited rank and name.
"Sergeant! Randel!"
I handed him my symbolic banner.
"Hold this high until enemy knights' dust visible. Then lower."
"Yes, sir!!!"
Randel raised it, face ecstatic at holding my banner.
Cheers from soldiers, knights' praises for their honorable lord poured out.
Too many voices drowned all else.
Soon after, a fist-sized group kicked up dust in the distance, approaching.
Growing larger before us, they accelerated, intent on crushing us.
I shouted,
"Wave banner side-to-side thrice, lower it—signal I'm here! Sergeant Randel! All crossbowmen, load goat's foot as ordered, fire heavy into range forward! Treat enemies generously!!"
My heart pounded.
Previous wars always advantageous—no tension like this, first in life.