The Grand Duke's Arrival – Time for Surrender
The Grand Duke's procession, the wedding, the war... Last month had been insanely busy. Of course, news from the front lines reached me immediately, but the Reilly and Darafont families showed no signs of surrendering. Above all, the Darafonts hadn't properly joined the fray even once—they were just criticizing us verbally. Even though they'd requested an imperial trade embargo and a word from the Emperor, the capital had ignored their letter. The reason was simple: the Emperor wasn't interested, or so they said.
The Crown Prince had loudly condemned us, but I'd shot back, "The war isn't so romantic that irrelevant nobodies get to butt in."
"Your Grace, the Crown Prince has issued another statement of criticism today."
"Let him do as he pleases. I couldn't care less."
The Crown Prince's faction railed against the North, but reality was different. Especially among the marquis families, there was only silence as they watched the war unfold. Since this could shift the power balance, quite a few southern houses secretly hoped the Darafonts would lose, giving them a chance to seize control.
"What does Dorgon say?"
"He says the war's outcome is already decided, Your Grace."
"It's not just one battle. Isn't it too soon to conclude that?"
"Given that... half the main force has been annihilated."
Half the main force. The Reilly family's soldiers and the Darafont mercenaries—1,200 troops in total—had set out to target the North, but they'd lost half their men around Kadana Castle. Most were killed or fled, and while the remnants were regrouping, it wasn't easy. Northern forces were already infiltrating Reilly territory.
"But it's taking longer than I expected."
"Our nomadic troops are a bit different from what they're used to, so they probably need time to adapt, don't you think?"
"No, that's not it. At this point, it's a political issue. This is what I mean."
A political issue. The Reillys' refusal to surrender was annoying, but the reason was clear: they figured they just had to hold out. The Darafonts kept protesting and promising support, but would they really raise troops to save the Reillys? I doubted it.
"Spring's almost here."
"The South's grain supplies are running critically low. Our forces are in the same boat."
"Of course, the Bart family and the North will provide support from both flanks, but the Reillys can't count on that."
For a proxy war, you need one solid promise: assured reinforcements. But the Darafonts had rushed into war too hastily, and their preparations were inferior to ours. The North was always ready for war because of the nomads.
"I need to go myself."
"There's no need for Your Grace to go personally."
"No, I have to. I need to go and wrap this up quickly. I'm tired of dragging it out."
"I'll inform Dorgon."
"Tell him to prepare. I'll finish up here first."
"Understood."
Hexon wrote a letter to Dorgon: The Grand Duke is coming, so adjust the chain of command accordingly and aim to end it swiftly. Dorgon decided to receive the Grand Duke at Kadana Castle. He ordered the entire Northern main force and the rear guard under Darmian to surround the Reilly main stronghold, not letting a single ant escape.
"Threaten the stronghold but don't siege it yet. As for Darmian's troops..."
"Darmian's forces are pacifying Reilly territory."
"Lord James, this is sufficient. The worry is they might burn everything down."
"Shall we pull them around the stronghold then?"
"That would be best."
After half the enemy main force vanished at Kadana Castle, Darmian's troops had turned elsewhere, capturing villages and forts in succession to isolate their army. They couldn't change direction easily—the Reilly-Darafont alliance was just getting more cut off. Veering elsewhere meant facing the Northern main force head-on, where our numbers were nearly double.
"In the end, holing up in the stronghold. The worst possible strategy. What do you think, Lord Dorgon?"
"I agree. But I understand it."
They had nowhere else to go. To avoid isolation, they had to defend the stronghold. That's why we'd unleashed Darmian, but now the situation had changed.
"The Grand Duke is coming here."
"Th-the Grand Duke?! Wh-why?!"
"He must have judged this war meaningless now."
"Well... probably."
"I think so too. Likely to see that traitor with his own eyes."
"Y-you mean... that bastard Andrea I don't even want to name."
"Do you know something about him?"
"No, have you heard anything, Lord Dorgon?"
"Not once."
This sudden new Wintergard—some unheard-of Andrea Wintergard. No one knew what he looked like or sounded like. Yet he was being used as the Darafonts' justification. It was baffling.
"Then until the Grand Duke arrives, we take that castle..."
"No need. They'll crawl out soon enough. There's nothing left inside by now."
"The allure of a prolonged siege, eh."
James and Dorgon had predicted it right. The Reilly stronghold truly had nothing left. The tightly shut gates let no one in or out, meaning conditions inside were deteriorating by the day.
"How long can they hold?"
"At least a month."
"If only they hadn't lost everything at Kadana Castle..."
"We can't take this stronghold. If we just hold out, reinforcements will come."
They had something to believe in. The Darafonts wouldn't abandon them so easily. After all, wasn't this war basically a proxy one? The Reilly patriarch was fumbling for a political excuse to escape.
"If we lose the war, we can't rule this territory anymore!"
"The Reilly forces aren't that weak."
"We sent all our elite fighters on this expedition—what strength do you expect?!"
The Reilly patriarch judged correctly. All usable troops had been deployed, and the ones left to guard other lands weren't strong. Plus, reinforcements weren't guaranteed. The Darafont mercenary captain stayed silent, offering no predictions.
"Any other strategies?"
"Just endure..."
A commotion erupted outside the walls. Not our soldiers' cheers—from beyond the walls. As the noise died down, a Reilly herald rushed in.
"Th-the Northern Grand Duke has arrived! The Northern Grand Duke is here!"
The war's endgame had begun.
Theodore von Ardorno Iphera Wintergard. The North's Grand Duke, the Wintergard family's sole legitimate heir. The man who ended the Wintergard rebellion young and never left the North to fend off nomads—he had come.
"He says it's to suppress an internal rebellion..."
"He has no intention of letting us live! Damn it!"
The Reillys bellowed, but it was futile. For the Grand Duke to march south, he needed a clear purpose. Andrea Wintergard—his very existence was tantamount to rebellion.
"Wh-what do we do now..."
There were no countermeasures. The soldiers beyond the walls were ecstatic. The Northern Grand Duke is here! The Northern Grand Duke is here! They chanted endlessly. In the midst stood the Grand Duke, mounted on his black steed.
"Your Grace! Punish me for failing to end the war!"
"It's fine. It's already over—I just came to wrap it up."
"To such a humble place..."
"I stopped by Kadana Castle on the way; it was decent. Come on, let's finish this war."
The Northern Grand Duke slowly headed to the command tent. The soldiers, buzzing with excitement, followed at a respectful distance.
Inside the tent sat James and Dorgon.
"They must know by now. Send a letter: Come out now, and everyone lives."
"Understood."
"We'll negotiate terms, of course, but if they surrender immediately, we'll recognize Reilly territory as is."
"Th-that's too merciful, Your Grace."
"This is enough. Whether the Reillys surrender or not doesn't concern us anyway."
The calculations were done. This war's outcome would shatter the balance dramatically. Even if we left the Reillys intact, they'd fall under Bart influence—Darmian had ravaged the territory. And the Darafonts could do nothing to us; they had no way in.
Time to end it.
"Tell them to surrender. Before I bring the full Northern main force down."