Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Fall of Brotan's Last Strongholds
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After the imperial troops who fought around Lake Apitello returned to Roselle.
"The enemy forces on the Triel front have retreated."
"Phew... Maintain alert status for a few more days, then withdraw to Triel for reorganization."
"I’ll relay that."
"Mm."
With the Kingdom army of 20,000 attacking Triel also deciding to retreat, the victor across the entire front was decided: the Dragonia Empire.
However, the Imperial Army, having claimed a great victory, was not satisfied to stop there.
"...What do you think?"
"The soldiers are weary from the long march, but their morale is piercing the heavens. It would be a shame to halt now."
"Agreed. The Kingdom army is inferior to us in troop numbers, morale, and quality. We must seize Anyak, Saint-Touar, and Montpieu before the enemy can solidify their defenses."
"Hmm..."
Victor and Friedrich argued to capture the Kingdom army’s bases, which were practically abandoned.
"The enemy hasn’t even recovered all their retreating forces—their total strength is less than 40,000. Excluding Anyak’s 20,000, they’re troops who’ve already suffered defeat once, so they won’t be hard to conquer."
"Seizing the three bases will drive the Brotan Kingdom beyond the Krezon Mountains, ensuring they can never threaten the Empire again. We must strike swiftly and occupy them before reinforcements arrive."
"If that’s your conviction... very well. But you’ll bear the responsibility for this."
"Of course."
They persuaded Gerhard by supplementing each other’s arguments, and after a brief moment of contemplation, he accepted their proposal on the condition that they take responsibility and command the troops.
After confirming no additional Kingdom forces were coming and reorganizing for four days, the Imperial Army
"Marches on Saint-Touar!"
Under the command of Victor and Friedrich, launched their assault on the final bastions guarding Brotan Kingdom’s homeland. --- About three weeks after the Battle of Lake Apitello concluded, in the Brotan Kingdom’s royal court.
"Duke Clavier! Is the conscription still not ready?!"
Just weeks earlier, Brotan’s young king, Guillaume II, had been riding high on momentum, seizing vast plains from the Kaen Kingdom through his regency. Upon hearing of the Kingdom army’s defeat to the Dragonia Empire, he immediately tried to mobilize troops.
"The previous conscription was already near its limit. We still need time..."
However, the Kingdom’s prime minister, Antoine Clavier, held him back, citing lack of preparation.
"Time, time, time! That damned time!"
Long after the news of defeat arrived, Guillaume vented his irritation at Antoine’s continued restraint and rose from his throne.
"You—you incompetent fools! The Kingdom is in crisis, and what are you doing?!"
The army of 90,000 had been squeezed from the nation’s utmost limits, so further conscription was naturally difficult.
But Guillaume, ignoring that fact, swung his cane in frustration at the nobles who had bowed their heads.
The nobles, accustomed to his violent outbursts, cringed in fear that the cane might be aimed at them.
"Gaston, Bevis... They were the problem from the start. A whole 90,000! And they still got smashed?"
"..."
"I crushed the Kaen Kingdom army with a mere 40,000!"
His brutal and cruel nature—personally whipping defeated generals during the war with Kaen—was already infamous throughout the Kingdom.
Even as he openly blamed Gaston and Bevis, who had high prestige in the Kingdom, no noble dared oppose him, for those men were either dead or captured, absent from the court.
"I should have led them myself! If I had commanded, those Empire scum would have been driven beyond the river long ago!"
"...Indeed."
"Right! They may have made names for themselves, but they can’t even touch the hem of Your Highness’s valor!"
"Their incompetence is a crime in itself! They must be severely punished!"
In truth, it was Guillaume who had appointed Bevis, Gaston, and Auguste as commanders and ordered the attack before they were fully prepared—but that detail was irrelevant by the nobles’ standards.
With his ordinary talent and ability overshadowed by his vast inherited direct territories and the recent triumph of his regency, his influence was immense. Rather than defy him, the nobles naturally offered up the defeated nobles as scapegoats.
"Yes, exactly!"
Satisfied with the nobles’ groveling responses, Guillaume nodded approvingly.
Having even defeated Brotan’s longtime rival, the Kaen Kingdom,
he believed a mere failure by inept border nobles couldn’t tarnish his reputation.
"How far have the Empire forces advanced? About 50,000, right?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"We still have around 50,000 left, so we should at least manage a defense."
Moreover, officers including Gaspar and Gerard, who had rallied the remnants, had minimized reported losses out of fear of his punishments, so he hadn’t grasped the Empire army’s true threat.
"You’re still gathering troops continuously, right?"
"Yes."
"Once the forces are secured, I will lead them personally. No objections!"
"..."
Anxious at the young king’s brash vigor, Antoine sensed something foreboding in Guillaume’s blazing eyes and his unyielding resolve, so he silently bowed his head.
At that moment.
-Thud thud thud!
An urgent knock echoed, and the audience chamber doors swung open.
"Pant, pant, Your Highness! Breaking news—breaking news!"
The messenger, breathless to the point of collapse, prostrated himself before Guillaume.
"Oh, has an Empire envoy arrived? It’s about time to discuss POW treatment."
"..."
"Speak."
Guillaume remained utterly unfazed—he’d seen many messengers rush in over trifles, some even deliberately gasping for breath outside the doors to emphasize urgency. In stark contrast, Antoine, standing beside him, squeezed his eyes shut, his ominous premonition turning real.
"Saint-Touar..."
"Hm. What happened at Saint-Touar?"
"Saint-Touar has fallen to the Empire army!"
"Fallen?"
Caught off guard by the unexpected report that Saint-Touar—the vital stronghold guarding the southern bypass of the massive Krezon Mountains dividing Brotan’s west and east, as well as the Bildorny River basin—had fallen, Guillaume faltered but quickly regained his composure.
"Well, at least it’s just Saint-Touar. Once reinforcements are ready, we can join with Montpieu’s forces and retake it from both sides. Isn’t that right?"
As long as Montpieu held, they could easily target Saint-Touar’s flank through Grit Pass, the only route crossing the Krezon Mountains.
That’s what he believed—retaking it wouldn’t be difficult.
"..."
He spoke casually, glancing at the nobles without tension, but Antoine’s intuition told him the bad news didn’t end there, so he held his tongue.
"Why are you all..."
"Your Highness!"
Before Guillaume could voice his doubts, another messenger dashed in and prostrated beside the first.
"...Speak! What now?!"
"Montpieu has fallen to the Empire! General Gaspar Ferrand fought the enemy to the last and perished!"
The messenger unleashed the horrific news the instant permission was granted.
"Montpieu too? Didn’t you say we still had numbers comparable to the enemy?!"
"I-I don’t have the details..."
Unable to comprehend how two bases had been lost despite over 50,000 Kingdom troops remaining, Guillaume bellowed. Terrified by his fierce glare, the messenger trembled and slammed his head against the floor.
"Hmm..."
Rather than press the apparently ignorant messenger further, he demanded countermeasures from the nobles.
"...At least Pirolt Castle guards the opposite side of Grit Pass. The enemy won’t find it easy to use the pass either."
"Hmm... It’s regrettable we can’t rely on Saint-Touar for its retaking, but unavoidable. In that case..."
And a few days later, even before Guillaume and the nobles could conclude their countermeasures meeting,
-Thud thud!
"Your Highness!"
Auguste Etuall, who should have been defending Anyak, burst into the meeting hall looking far more exhausted than the previous messengers. His hair disheveled, clad in tattered armor, he prostrated himself in the center.
"Count Etuall, what in the world..."
"I lost Anyak to a general named Victor! Your Highness, reinforcements—quickly!"
Ignoring the nobles’ shock, he lifted his head and confessed his defeat before even receiving permission.
"...What? Victor? Do I know that name?"
"The general who led Ruth Kingdom’s army in the Northern War. A young man in his twenties, and his abilities..."
One of the nobles stepped forward to answer Guillaume, who had never heard the name.
"Twenties?"
Guillaume raised his voice at the part about the man who crushed the Kingdom army being in his twenties.
Even he, who received suspicious glances from veteran generals whenever he tried to lead troops—and who was over thirty himself—
"Truly? The great Brotan Kingdom army defeated by some inexperienced kid still in his twenties?"
"...Yes."
Victor, still in his late twenties, appeared as a green novice in his eyes.
"Not just a defeat, but every single base taken?"
"Yes! The Empire army..."
"How many troops remain?!"
"...Eight thousand..."
-Shing.
Anyak, Montpieu, Saint-Touar.
Furious to his limits upon hearing that this brat general had seized all three bases guarding Brotan’s west, along with most of their forces, Guillaume instantly drew his sword.
"You commit such a grave crime and dare return alive?"
"Eek!"
"Your Highness! You mustn’t!"
"Pay for your failure with your head!"
"P-please spare me!"
The meeting hall descended into chaos: Guillaume rampaging with sword in hand, Antoine and the nobles desperately restraining him, and Auguste fleeing desperately in search of cover.
After a long bout of destruction, he finally calmed minutes later and returned to his throne.
"...Haa. I won’t take your head right now, but don’t think you’ll escape punishment."
"..."
"Duke Clavier. What are your thoughts?"
Sighing as he looked at the prostrating Auguste, Guillaume reluctantly turned to Antoine after scanning the surrounding nobles.
"..."
"Duke Clavier?"
"...A truce is out of the question for now. With the enemy occupying all key bases, ending the war in this state would inflict near-destruction on Brotan Kingdom."
Rising to answer the king’s call, Antoine racked his brains desperately even in this hopeless situation.
"Hmm."
"The enemy has seized the initiative, but their numbers aren’t overwhelming. We must focus on defense to erode the victors’ morale as much as possible and hold out until conscription is complete. Fortunately, Eldmar Kingdom showed favor before—we can pull them in to extinguish the immediate fires."
"Specifically?"
"Even if it means ceding the upper Bildorny River region, we must secure their cooperation first. Gather troops from the Eldmar and Kaen Kingdom borders, add Eldmar’s reinforcements, and the Empire won’t attack us easily."
"..."
Infuriated by Antoine’s proposal to cede Kingdom land and bow to another nation despite already losing territory, Guillaume nonetheless possessed a minimum of political sense.
Before erupting, he briefly scanned the faces of the nobles in the meeting hall.
Most had their heads bowed, gauging his mood, but quite a few gazed at Antoine with expectation.
"..."
Guillaume suppressed his rage as best he could.
An Antoine who had governed Brotan before Guillaume became king.
He knew that venting at the defeated Auguste was one thing, but raging at Antoine—who spoke countermeasures for the Kingdom’s sake—carried entirely different risks.
Even with his rising momentum, he couldn’t treat Antoine as harshly as the other nobles—that much he understood.
"...Deploy forces primarily to defensive points including Pirolt Castle. Those arriving from the Kaen border move straight to defenses, and dispatch diplomats to Eldmar Kingdom."
"Understood."
Though dissatisfied, he issued orders as Antoine suggested for now.
"We thank Your Highness for this wise decision. The longer time passes, the more openings the Empire will show—opportunities will arise."
Antoine bowed deeply, grateful that Guillaume had heeded his advice.
"...Yeah."
Of course, Guillaume’s thoughts diverged sharply from Antoine’s expectations.
Irked for some time by Antoine—who seemed to garner stronger noble support than himself—he superficially accepted the words while inwardly pondering the ‘opportunities’ he had mentioned.
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