Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Great Leap (1)
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Though it might come out of nowhere, war novices insist that the most important thing in war is 'victory in battle'.
Those who've studied war a bit more, or the 'mediocre generals' and 'staff officers' who've mastered theoretical expertise, divide war into beginning and end by logistics. By sustaining supply lines, they first minimize the risk of our own forces faltering, thereby reducing the 'chance of defeat' in war.
Then, they strike the enemy's gaps to seize 'victory in battle'.
On the other hand, generals hailed as geniuses by history, or commanders who've fully internalized professional skills, set every process of war toward the 'conditions for victory'.
To explain it simply with a stock investment analogy: a stock newbie 'noob investor' thinks making money means success. A seasoned stock player predicts company financials, investable funds, timelines, and economic conditions to profit.
But true experts do all that, plus plan investments and every step toward achieving 'targeted profits'—like Warren Buffett with ultra-long-term investments—without getting blinded by mere 'gains'.
In that light, the knights and commanders at this war council are undoubtedly still beginners.
"Baldt! When the camp merchant arrives today, I'll buy everyone a round of beer. I'll even send a girl to each man here. Look forward to it!! I called in the camp merchant from Nant with the best women for just this."
"Long live Sir Frost!! No, wait—you'll soon be Baron Frost, right?"
"Nah, what are you talking about? Baron? We haven't even taken Nant Castle yet."
"The knights are all wiped out. No commanders left, not even the count! It's as good as won. Congratulations. But please, allow this lowly Baldt to drain the future baron's coffers. Heh heh..."
The other knights chattered about how their lands would expand, so they could blow all their money today. At the back of the council, the captains boasted they'd get knightly titles and ask to change from 'bastard' to 'legitimate' son.
Of course, I understood their joy.
By troop numbers alone, we faced at least four times our strength, with knight counts over ten times ours—the worst odds—and we won overwhelmingly.
And with their overall commander, the count himself, dead, they couldn't recover.
But like a contract isn't done until the seals are stamped and notarized...
We haven't fully occupied the County of Nant or the County of Franch yet, so it's too early to pop the champagne.
Thus, to shift the mood and establish the next strategy, I spoke up.
"Our forces have won. Our 5,000 soldiers crushed the enemy's 20,000 with overwhelming might. Just 2,000 infantry held off 2,000 knights, while the remaining 3,000 blocked over six times their number in enemy infantry. I, Siel von Kroitel, stake my honor on their valor—and we'll never forget the fallen. But before praising you all, let us first mourn the 300 soldiers who gave their lives for me."
At my words, the knights bit their lips silently and bowed their heads. Baldt and Helmut, who led them directly, along with the captains, closed their eyes and shed quiet tears over their heroic deaths.
Then I looked at the knights and commanders with a kind yet firm voice.
"I commend your feats and wish to celebrate with camp merchants on the field for you. But gentlemen, it's not yet time to 'pop the champagne.' Our war aim is to capture the Count of Nant and fully secure the entire County of Nant and County of Helsman. But what's our current state?"
The other knights and captains couldn't answer. Viscount spoke for them.
"The Count of Nant is dead, and both the County of Nant and County of Helsman are empty. We've only achieved one of your stated goals."
"Exactly. If we don't hurry to occupy the County of Helsman that the Count of Nant held, other Franch barons will march in to 'expand their territories.' We'd lose Helsman. And if Duke of Brussels hears, he'll claim to 'suppress Nant chaos' and snag a barony. Think about it."
Hearing that, the other commanders' faces paled.
Now they realized others might crash our feast.
"So we must move like the wind before word spreads, stabilizing the County of Helsman and County of Nant, Father. And my loyal knights and commanders! I, Siel von Kroitel, swear I won't let the blood of my soldiers—who took knightly maces to the face, got holes in their bodies, yet died gripping spears upright—go to waste. Thus, no time for rewards or feasts now. Can you forgive this of me?"
The knights and commanders dropped to one knee in unison, heads bowed. Frost spoke for them.
"Long live Lord Count von Kroitel! We shall not waste even a single soldier's blood, as you command."
"Good. Then here's the plan. Chris, hang the map."
Chris hung a map showing Kroitel, Nant, Helsman counties, and surroundings where the knights could see.
I pointed with my baton and continued.
"First, the enemy needs time to muster forces for conquest. So upon hearing we've taken Nant with full strength, they'll send small detachments to stake claims—planting flags creates grounds to assert territory."
"Sound reasoning, my lord. As you say, retaking occupied land means war. We'd fight both Franch and Romania..."
"Can't let them loot our hard-won empty house. After securing Nant Castle, split forces: Father with 2,000 to Helsman County, Sir Frost with 1,000 to Kroitel Barony. Then rewards. Objections?"
Though I said it, the logic was ironclad, so the knights and commanders before me said nothing.
They just stared sullenly.
Even as a respected lord, only whipping after victory erodes loyalty...
Time for the carrot.
"Treasurer, how much personal funds do I have for spending in our territory now?"
"About 10,000 gold coins."
We're raking in huge profits selling sugar, salt, and grain to Hamburg and the North, but 10,000 for my personal use...
Since starting sugar exports, I ordered 300 saved monthly without checking the balance...
That could buy ten villages on barren land, right?
Next, save more and get Ella a silk dress fit for noble ladies...
The knights and commanders gawked at each other.
"That could buy a whole new territory, right?"
"How many suits of armor...? No, enough to outfit all my territory's soldiers with warhorses and top Milan plate, with change."
"Sir Carl, we bet on how much the lord saved—10,000 gold. I was closer, pay up."
"They said back when he was ward, everything Baron Kroitel touched turned to gold. Makes you think it's true..."
Then, with a benevolent smile, I asked the treasurer again.
"And public funds? Our barony's current budget..."
"Annual budget around 50,000 gold. If you wish, about 10,000..."
Once we fully take County of Nant, its vast food and labor will triple revenues next year alone.
And soon operate that hidden mine in Nant...
"Before rewards, grant 20 gold each to knights here, 15 to commanders. Lieutenants 10, ensigns 8, sergeant majors 7... like that. Captains, step forward."
The captains lined up puzzled where I pointed.
"Those who fought enemy knights with me today, front and center."
"Pardon? Understood."
They formed neat ranks, none without scars.
They fought at the forefront with soldiers, ready to die—hence this sight.
I must reward such loyalty. As knight, noble, their lord.
"Kneel on one knee."
The summoned captains knelt swiftly.
Knights realized, asked in panic.
"My lord, what are you doing? Knighing them all?"
I drew a firm line against the worried knight.
"Yes. History records the Caffeine Dynasty's start, and Emperor Elrain I knighted—and baronized—soldiers for merits. How much more these who staked lives for me?"
"But..."
"And our County of Nant—no, now County of Kroitel—has plenty of unclaimed knightly lands. We'll give them some, but you more. Complaints?"
The objecting knight nodded satisfied.
"None if you reward us plenty! How could I scorn soldiers who felled knights with mere pikes?"
Next, for a 'provisional' knighting, I raised my hand and slapped their cheeks.
Normally a grave insult, but now recognizing these lifelong discriminated bastards as 'nobles'.
They stifled sobs as I struck, but tears of gratitude flowed endlessly.
After the provisional ceremony, I raised the next matter.
"Where are those who brought the Count of Nant's head? We must reward their deeds..."
"No worry, my lord. They're resting in our barracks, treated as knights."
"Fetch them at once. Council dismissed. Rest up."
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The soldiers who killed Schwein von Nant were 'noble bastards'.
They wore plate breastplates, half-armor with helmets and gauntlets—cheap silk befitting minor nobles.
Now prostrated before me, begging rewards, casting aside bastard dignity.
"My lord, we slew your foe Schwein von Nant. We smashed his limbs and body for you, avenging him. See."
They unveiled the cloth-covered corpse behind.
Inside: no face, barely human—a maggot-ridden meat lump.
Seeing Schwein ground like Mongol raw 'Hamburg steak'—thoroughly satisfying, yet...
A touch unpleasant. Even trash like Schwein was noble; shouldn't they have presented him properly?
That's common sense this era...