Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Confession of Defeat
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The audience chamber of the Esperia royal palace was as noisy as ever upon receiving word that imperial forces had seized most of Alcanthe.
"I trust Count Gonzalez. He will surely show us the reason he yielded Alcanthe."
"Hmm..."
Francisco stepped forward to defend Sancho, but the king made no effort to hide his displeasure as he looked to the nobles.
"It's said the enemy forces heading to Alcanthe outnumber those at Al Berdo Pass by far. Even if Count Gonzalez can annihilate the foes as he claims, leaving so many more unchecked like this..."
"He said the enemy coming to Alcanthe is nothing to fear, despite their numbers. Do you not know the power of siege cannons and guns?"
"Even so..."
Though news of Alcanthe's fall had arrived, there was still no word from Al Berdo Pass where Sancho held command. Doubts about his strategy grew louder.
"The enemy's assault is only a matter of time! We must dispatch troops to Alcanthe at once and stop them!"
"Troops? How do you propose we muster more from here! Well, it might not be impossible if you dipped into your personal coffers. Plenty of people saw you at the underground auction house."
The nobles lording over safe rear territories treated the war as a tool to tear at one another.
"What did you...! Didn't your wife just buy a new necklace studded with jewels the other day?"
"Ahem... Shall we tally up the value of that ring and those earrings you're wearing right now?"
"..."
Francisco quietly observed the chaos, awaiting news from Sancho that could resolve the situation.
He didn't even hope for total enemy annihilation.
If word came that the foe had retreated—or failing that, that the dangerous siege cannons had been destroyed—he was confident he could leverage Sancho's plan to quell this disorder in one stroke.
"...What, how much? That's absurd..."
"The market price of rubies these days..."
Just as the nobles' squabbling reached its peak,
"...in conference at the moment..."
"...for now..."
A commotion stirred near the audience chamber doors, which soon began to creak open slowly.
"...Huh?"
"What's this, that man... Count Gonzalez?"
"What?"
Stepping through the doors was Sancho, still clad in his armor.
His hair was slick with oil, and his tattered armor and clothes were caked in sweat and dirt.
The guards dared not bar the path of one of the most revered counts. They quietly shut the doors behind him.
"Uh..."
"We should stop him... hmm."
The nobles could sense the deep fatigue etched into Sancho's gaunt face. They wondered why the man who should be commanding the battle was at the palace, but they averted their eyes upon meeting his sharp gaze.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The audience chamber had fallen utterly silent before long, filled only with the echo of Sancho's military boots.
His steps were slow but unwavering.
Francisco moved to intercept him as he approached the throne but withdrew upon seeing the complex emotions in his eyes.
In the end, Sancho reached the foot of King Julio's throne without hindrance.
Thump.
"...Count Gonzalez?"
"Forgive me."
He dropped to his knees before the throne and bowed his head in apology.
"What do you mean by that, Count?"
"Forgive me!"
To the visibly flustered king, Sancho cried out once more.
Bam!
"Forgive me, forgive me...!"
He slammed his forehead to the floor and shouted in a trembling voice.
"Count Gonzalez!"
Francisco and the nobles rushed over and helped him up. Sancho did not resist and rose quietly.
"...Our forces, which numbered 28,000, have been reduced to just 10,000."
"...!"
"It is my failure. I underestimated the enemy general's cunning and the strength of their legions."
"...We lost?"
"If even Count Gonzalez says this much..."
"10,000? My god..."
The nobles murmured at Sancho's calm confession upon rising.
"Is this truly the case?"
"I came here to confess my sins in person. I've left the remaining forces to Count Carlos Lopez."
"What of the enemy's losses! Surely you didn't suffer alone, Count!"
"..."
Sancho turned to Francisco, who had asked in a quavering voice, and stared silently at his face.
"...Why do you look at me like that?"
"An exact count is difficult, but the Red Dragon Legion's losses won't exceed a thousand."
"...Pardon?"
"We couldn't even get close to the siege cannons... no."
"..."
"We never had a proper chance to engage them. The battle was one-sided, their movements swift, and my responses inadequate."
"..."
Francisco fell silent in despair.
Sancho gently removed the hands grasping him and prostrated himself before the king once more.
"Please punish me for shedding the blood of the kingdom's young men through my misguided judgment, Your Majesty."
Julio pondered as he gazed down at the prostrated Sancho.
If it was truly due to his incompetence as Sancho claimed, punishment might be in order—but Julio knew better than to decide lightly, given Sancho's authority and proven abilities.
"Your Majesty, though Count Gonzalez admits defeat, everyone knows his competence. There must have been unavoidable reasons. Let us decide his fate once the full situation is clear."
Sensing Julio's hesitation, Francisco clasped his hands and defended Sancho.
Beyond matters of power, he simply couldn't afford to lose a capable general like Sancho at this juncture.
"Your Majesty, if his account is true, punishment is unavoidable. Therefore..."
"Punishment? Where in the kingdom will we find another as skilled in battle as Count Gonzalez! Any other general might have suffered even greater losses!"
The nobles chimed in seeing Francisco speak up, prolonging Julio's deliberation.
"A report detailing the battle results has arrived!"
"...Hmm. Would it not be proper to decide after reviewing the report?"
"Indeed."
A messenger who had barely caught up to Sancho, who had ridden alone, arrived. The king and nobles questioned Sancho to verify the report penned by his adjutant.
"Retreat? This cowardice surely magnified our losses!"
"Mind your words! We call it stubborn folly when one refuses to retreat when retreat is called for!"
Debate raged among the nobles.
"...Rise, Count Gonzalez."
Having confirmed the details, Julio bade Sancho to stand.
"Though Count Gonzalez was defeated at Al Berdo Pass, he has devoted himself to Esperia for decades. Moreover, this defeat stems from the enemy's sharp strategy, not any incompetence on the count's part."
"..."
"Taking that into account, I hereby sentence Sancho Gonzalez to house arrest."
"...Thank you, Your Majesty."
He opted for a mild punishment, and many nobles nodded in agreement.
"You may withdraw."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Sancho trudged out of the audience chamber once more.
Francisco stared blankly at his retreating figure.
"...Now, we must decide Count Gonzalez's successor."
"I believe Count Carlos Lopez, stationed at Ceres Gate, is the suitable replacement."
"I agree."
The image of Sancho's listless demeanor—so unlike him—lingered in Francisco's mind, the rest of the meeting's proceedings falling on deaf ears.
"I would like to discuss the battle at Al Berdo Pass with Count Gonzalez."
"Permission granted."
A few days later, with the king's approval, Francisco sought out Sancho for a private talk.
He first visited Sancho's mansion, but
"He's not here?"
"That's right, Your Grace."
"...I see."
A stranger greeted him.
Francisco searched high and low, until
"...This is his house?"
He arrived at a shabby dwelling too small to need servants, unfit even for a count.
"...Confirmed."
"Good work."
Showing his permit to the guards blocking the house, he pushed open the weathered wooden door.
"Good day, Your Grace."
"...Duke Casas."
"What in the world happened..."
In the stark, unadorned home, Sancho—seated in a chair with a single maid—greeted Francisco.
"Where would the money to hire mercenaries come from?"
"We could have provided support..."
"There's no need for Duke Casas or innocent nobles to bear my mistakes. I won't allow it."
"..."
"Still, I'm not completely broke. Once the punishment ends, I'll look for a new place."
He explained that hiring over ten thousand mercenaries had forced him to sell off nearly everything.
Francisco, who knew Sancho's habitual frugality, numbly caressed the wooden cup before him.
Unable to recall his original questions, Francisco exchanged pleasantries and rose to leave.
"Duke Casas."
"...Yes."
"Just one request."
As he stood,
"Never try to fight the Red Dragon Legion."
"...Pardon?"
"It may be presumptuous, but I hope for a truce somehow. If not, at least avoid the Red Dragon Legion."
Sancho spoke with grave earnestness.
He tried to hide it, but Francisco noticed the tremor in his fingertips and the corners of his eyes.
"...The Red Dragon Legion."
"Be careful."
Francisco stood rooted like a nail,
"..."
bowed his head in farewell, and departed Sancho's home with unsteady steps.