Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Preparations for War with Maxburg (6)
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Back when I was buddies with the top dog at school, I asked him the surefire way to win any fight, and he gave me this advice.
"No matter if it's one against two or three, pick one guy and smash him first. The rest won't dare lay a finger on you after that. And then? You win."
Put that into practice on the battlefield, and you've got divide and conquer.
And right now, to take on a massive power like Romania, I have to follow that top dog's words and smash the Duke of Maxburg first, just like he said.
But that's easier said than done. The enemy has the capacity to come at us with at least twice our forces.
They won't blunder in like that idiot Schwein von Nant I crushed before. No, they'll come after calculating every possible scenario they can think of.
Even if our soldiers are top quality, if a competent commander who doesn't drop his guard leads twice the numbers...
Coldly analyzing the situation, we'd have a higher chance of victory thanks to our superior troops, but achieving the total victory I'm aiming for would be tough.
That said, we could consider defensive and siege warfare capable of beating three times our numbers, but if we let them plunder our wealthy territory compared to others...
Even their conscripts and mercenaries would get fired up with lust for loot, boosting their morale sky-high.
And if those guys already outnumbering us two-to-one get a morale boost, the Duke will use it to propagandize in his own lands and conscript even more riffraff.
So the strategy left to me boils down to just one.
'Advance at a speed that leaves the enemy dazed and unable to fight back effectively.'
And with that in mind, I gave my operational plan one final check.
Damn, it'd be simpler to just clash head-on with the enemy army like at Esolon or Sternheim.
No helping it. If we win this war, I'll set up a military academy and turn sharp young officers into staff officers.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A conference room with a massive wooden signboard, a long table, and countless chairs.
There sat my father, Baldt, Baron Frost, Colonel Bierman, and all the high-ranking commanders with knightly titles or above, chatting away.
"Every war we've fought has been brutal, but who would've thought we'd end up facing off against a Romanian Elector..."
"Can't believe it. But we'll win, right?"
"We've won every time so far. And we've got 25,000 troops we've trained ourselves, 500 knights, and 4,000 heavy cavalry to boot. Unless it's some moron like Schwein in command, we can't lose! Right, Colonel Bierman?"
"Baron Frost is spot on. With you, Count, as our commander, no need to worry."
Thanks to the overwhelming victories in the two battles so far, the commanders brimmed with confidence in triumph.
Which means no need for a long pre-meeting speech to boost morale.
So, just introduce our new comrade, and we can dive right in.
With that, I hung up the map for the briefing and addressed them in a voice laced with jest.
"A few months back, those barley-munching piglets from Maxburg sent us some rat pups as a gift. So I, Siel von Kroitel, repaid the favor in kind with a modest privateer squadron. By now, His Highness the Duke of Maxburg is probably shedding tears of gratitude over my sincerity."
My words drew laughter throughout the room.
"And so, the great Duke of Maxburg, embodying his dignity and prestige, is surely preparing war as his gracious reply. No invitation has arrived yet, but he'll definitely invite you all. So, let's get ready to attend the banquet. First off, Navy Captain Braim! On your feet."
Hearing that, Braim—wearing a black cap embroidered with gold thread and a blue silk jacket with golden embroidery—hesitated a moment before standing.
Seems the former commoner, nay, pirate treated as a criminal, found it daunting to have all these nobles staring him down.
But he soon locked eyes with me and introduced himself loudly and clearly.
"Navy Captain Braim reporting. By Your Excellency's order, I raided merchant ships off Maxburg's coast and earned my place as a soldier of the County of Kroitel. Pleased to serve."
His words done, they eyed Braim warily, but his feat of blockading and plundering Maxburg's coast kept complaints at bay.
They might grumble inwardly, but merits in this war will make him one of us soon enough.
"Braim will play a crucial role in this war, so try not to fixate on his past. Now, let's begin the briefing. Sebastian!"
At my cue, Sebastian handed me my pointer.
I pointed to Linzberg, the city nearest us, and Rottingen, capital of the Duchy of Maxburg.
"First, Baron Frost's command: 200 knights and 1,500 men-at-arms. Your unit will plunder all the villages near coastal towns between Linzberg and Rottingen."
Frost, thinking it absurd, wore a baffled look and spoke up.
"But knights and men-at-arms alone won't sustain supply lines. We'd need wagons, but those men-at-arms aren't pulling cart duty. And wagons would slow our march, leaving us isolated in enemy territory."
"That's why your unit travels by Braim's ships. He'll carry your supplies."
"But Braim isn't trustworthy yet. Until a few months ago, he was a pirate, fresh under Your Excellency's command. I can't stake my life and my retainers' on him."
Even if I've given Braim stability, prosperity, and hope for the future, that's just his side.
So as Frost says, Braim could betray us on a whim.
And I've prepared Plan B for that.
"If Braim deviates from the route or betrays us at sea, kill him on the spot. If he abandons you, live off plundered food and link up with nearby units."
"Understood, Your Excellency. It's a bit iffy, but we won't lose to a mere pirate in a fight... We'll find a way out no matter what."
"Good. Next, Baron Baldt."
Baldt's eyes lit up as he replied.
"Your orders, Your Excellency!"
"You'll lead a detached force: 5,000 troops, 100 knights, and 700 men-at-arms to plunder around Zaltzburg. If the situation allows, besiege or capture it."
"Yes, Your Excellency. But Zaltzburg lies deep in their territory. Worst case, supplies could be cut off..."
"Don't worry. The Duke of Maxburg won't dream we're splitting our forces. Thus, the enemy..."
Next, I placed a marker on the Hausenburg plains—a eagle clutching Maxburg bait.
"Maxburg won't expect us to split up. He'll mass his entire army at Hausenburg and charge deep into our lands to repel us. Even if not, he'll concentrate near our borders at least."
My father, puzzled by the plan despite it not being Q&A time, asked anyway.
"If we strike first, the Duke isn't stupid—he'll wheel around and hit us back. With our smaller numbers, couldn't he pick us off piecemeal?"
"Ours is an elite force of trained soldiers only. Worst case, we march and assemble by company. We're twice as fast as their rabble dragging hundreds to thousands of conscripts. So, any unit spotting their retreat can converge swiftly, and no detachment will be more than 30 kilometers from another."
The nobles' faces relaxed; no fear of getting picked off without a plan.
To reassure my subordinates further, I passed around papers listing Maxburg's weaknesses unearthed via merchant guilds.
The nobles' reactions varied, but all lit up at the good news.
"Your Excellency, is this real?"
"That Maxburg scum's getting squeezed by creditors over our privateering, and if he loses this war... he'll be penniless?"
"The smug Romanian Duke, up to all sorts of dirty tricks, stripped bare... Feels damn good."
"You had it all planned, Your Excellency!"
They chatted gleefully about the Duke hounded by moneylenders for a bit.
I clapped to refocus them.
"We'll plunder every house, good, food, and property in their villages, making it ours. The Duke, fire at his feet, will rush to hit us. Then, we..."
I placed the Maxburg marker on the plains near Rottingen.
"...will annihilate them on the Rottingen plains for total victory."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ After the meeting, Lieutenant Short, my intel chief, approached.
"Your Excellency, that machine is finally ready."
"Good. Reward the makers handsomely. Oh, and how are the new priests dispatched to the villages faring?"
"My scouts report they're working hard—starving, poor serf-born wanderers preaching, so they're diligent. Serfs, moved by their zeal, bring food daily; they're even gaining weight."
For education and welfare, I doubled village priests from one to two, and both are pulling their weight.
I asked warmly,
"Bibles placed—four per village?"
"Already done. Village heads gather serfs often to read the Franch-translated version."
"Perfect. Thanks. Now, make three of those machines, scrap two as 'slightly defective,' and store them in the warehouse as is."
Short looked dubious but bowed.
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Phew... If things roll as I've set them up, the Maxburg house might lose its Elector status for good.
The Maxburg punk looks beat lately—demoting him from beleaguered Elector to plain old Imperial Prince should cheer him right up, eh?