Chapter 364
Chapter 364
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 364
Chapter Title: Whirlpool (2)
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Günter von Schliehiburg stared at the hazy coastline with tense eyes. The most vulnerable moment for any army was during a march, and the most precarious point within that was right before landing.
Yet the transport ships carrying Fairn's troops, equipment, and weapons docked smoothly along the shore. Even as the infantry disembarked in unison, followed by the warhorses, weaponry, and finally the massive siege engines, he continued to scan the surroundings with vigilant eyes.
Only when all forces had set foot on the shore and established a camp did he finally allow himself a satisfied smile.
“Commander, total forces: 2,318 men. All disembarkation complete!”
“Good work!”
At his adjutant's report, Günter rubbed his hands together with a broad grin. From this moment on, every inch of land his army marched over would become his territory. Great King Sigismund had decreed that the rights to conquered lands would be delegated to the commanding officers.
Depending on his achievements, he might even rise to the rank of grand duke. No, even if he received no additional titles, combining this land with the Schliehiburg count family’s estates would position him to aim for independent margrave status, or perhaps even duke.
Among the petty kingdoms of the newly reorganized Eastern Alliance under King Sigismund, his family banner would fly as well. Günter burst into laughter at the happy vision and said,
“How are the warhorses holding up?”
“Fifteen cavalry mounts fell ill during the voyage. Some are a bit weakened, but it shouldn’t hinder cavalry operations!”
“Good. Very good. Pull out twenty of them. We need to dispatch scouts to survey the area. Hurry! The nearest fief is… hmm. These Itchi city names are hard to get used to…”
“Altkaie… Kaeen!”
“Right. Dispatch scouts toward that city. Even if Dane sent their entire army, they must have left minimal forces for fief management.”
A sly curve formed on Günter’s lips. Dane’s famous “wandering wars” had occurred three times so far, and in the previous two, King Vicente of Dane had mobilized nearly every available soldier.
So this time, Dane was surely an empty shell. Their main force was cavalry, so committing most troops to a wandering war left them without means to counter enemy cavalry.
This march was akin to advancing down an empty highway straight to the capital. There was no need to even consider enemy ambushes. It was unclaimed land waiting to be staked with his banner.
However, whether independent margrave or duke, not a single soldier could be spared lightly in his new lands. There was no reason to suffer pointless losses from ambushes.
“Perfect.”
Wasn’t he the epitome of a benevolent, ideal sovereign? Günter nodded as he watched the departing scouts.
* * *
Three hours after the scouts departed, Günter thought the troops were moving a bit sluggishly for a first march on unfamiliar ground.
Five hours in, he was filled with thoughts of reprimanding the soldiers for their sloth.
By the seventh hour, he sensed something was off. They were just scouts sent to scout nearby villages, carrying field rations for barely one meal.
And soldiers never skip meals, no matter the circumstances. Even if those who left at dawn had a hasty lunch of hardtack, wasn’t it strange they hadn’t returned by evening?
‘Did those bastards desert?’
He didn’t even consider they might have been intercepted. Scouts were trained to avoid combat at all costs, and Dane’s interior lacked the resources or manpower to detect and intercept their landing in advance.
“Advance.”
“Yes? But, Commander! The scouts haven’t returned! If they’ve fallen into some Dane peasant trap, a night march could be dangerous!”
“They’ve probably deserted. We’ll advance cautiously and handle close reconnaissance on foot.”
Günter’s mood soured as the plan went awry from the start. He didn’t know how quickly other commanders had begun their advance, but he couldn’t bear the infamy of being the last to reach Altbert.
Once his orders reached the troops, the exhausted soldiers grumbled as they prepared to march. The sun was already setting, and the nearest city was at least half a day away, meaning they might face combat without rest after a long march.
Günter mounted his horse and scowled. Arrogant, lazy lot. With no soldierly spirit or loyalty, he had to manage every single one of those slackers—what a magnificent lord he was. He nodded and puffed out his chest.
* * *
“Hmm. Looks like bandits hit this village.”
The village they passed during the march, based on scout reports, had been completely incinerated by fire. Günter clicked his tongue, thinking it natural since even minimal garrison forces had joined the expedition, letting bandits run rampant.
It was harvest season now. How many subjects had died due to their lord’s folly? The compassionate sovereign Günter tsked at the tragedy. But this was good news.
‘The fief’s so empty even internal bandits can’t be held back?’
The thought solidified as they passed a second, then a third village. Villages near the fief’s main city had been utterly burned.
‘Even infantry shortages, not just cavalry!’
If a village six hours’ walk from the city had burned, it wasn’t just a lack of cavalry response. That distance was marchable on foot, so no thinking lord would abandon such a large settlement.
‘Truly empty land!’
Estates, farmland, and at least six or seven settlements attached to grand farms would fall under his family’s glory—in just one night!
‘This expedition’s a jackpot.’
He grinned wickedly and spurred his horse forward, intending to show bold leadership at the vanguard. To the weary troops, the mounted noble seemed like he was just posturing, but Günter saw none of that.
At that moment, a horse galloped urgently from the rear.
“Commander! Smoke’s rising from the rear!”
“Another village hit by bandits? Goodness, the fief’s security is a total mess.”
“No! It’s rising from the rear!!”
“Well, we didn’t pass many villages behind us.”
Günter said it offhandedly, then froze. Behind us?
“Wait, the villages we passed…”
“Yes!! They were already looted!”
“Then… the rear means…”
“Our camp! No, with all troops gone, there’s…”
“The transports!!”
The food brought by ship was being moved by wagons, so that was fine, but the rear had the transports and a small engineer detachment building a temporary supply port.
Initial landing rations weren’t absolute. Four or five days would exhaust them.
It was inevitable. This near-surprise landing required securing the attack route via rear supply lines and local requisitions, then rapid march to the enemy capital—that was the grand strategy.
If the transports burned, landing operations in enemy territory left no retreat without ships. And the bigger issue…
‘The coastline’s destroyed…!’
If the large transport fleet for over two thousand men became coastal wreckage, no ships could dock nearby. It was like a temporary reef field.
They could expect no further rear support—supplies, troops, nothing.
Contacting other units was impossible now. They knew routes but not speeds. In this frenzy of independent detachments racing for land, commanders couldn’t link up until Altbert.
Local requisitions were the only option, but…
“Damn it. Speed up. We must breach the main city walls before nightfall!”
“Yes!!”
Günter ground his teeth and spurred hard. He heard the troops’ outcry, but something more urgent mattered.
“The local hamlets have all been looted already!”
* * *
“Supply lines cut, and every village along the march route plundered… This is… a form of… scorched earth tactics, right?”
“Exactly.”
“But without defensive forces, do scorched earth tactics even mean anything?”
Kirhas was right. Scorched earth was a strategy against large armies—to exhaust and demoralize foes for annihilation in battle. It assumed an unavoidable final clash.
But even combined, their forces fell short of facing the enemy main. Enemy advance directions compounded the issue.
“Cornered rats bite cats, young master. With retreat cut off, their only choice is advance… If they charge full speed for Altbert, how do we stop them?”
“Now you’re teaching me strategy. Haha!”
Live or die, Fairn’s command had one path. Not overland, but dispersed landings along the coast. With transports destroyed and retreat severed, advance was their sole option.
Some legions would scatter for food, bolder ones charge the capital. Starvation was possible, but breaking morale? Not easily. Moreover—
‘Scorched earth never burns the entire nation.’
Obvious. It targeted lootable resources along enemy paths. Even Kirhas, who’d ordered it during Karadskar’s advance, had secured sustenance for her troops and people.
But Dane had no front line. Enemy paths spanned everywhere. Dispersed coastal advances meant scorched earth equated to national suicide.
Better to die united than fall to foes. Noble tale or resolute last stand, but ultimately futile deaths.
“Kirhas. If you ordered beastman tribes to advance in different directions, utterly out of contact until the final goal, what would you tell the chiefs?”
“Hmm…”
No guarantee field commanders would obey her fully. To ensure strategic success…
“Rewards… right?”
“Naturally. What reward would make them hurry?”
“Uh… uh… territory…? Territory! Yes?”
“Correct. Well done.”
Fernandez gently stroked her hair. As Kirhas purred softly and closed her eyes, he smiled warmly and continued.
“If you promise rights to every land they tread, field commanders would race to plant their banners widest and farthest. The front expands, speed increases. Any rational mind would choose this.”
Fernandez gazed at the flower-strewn map and said,
“But alas. Every settlement’s already stripped bare. No proper battles, rations dwindle daily. Everywhere, mystery bandits plunder what scant hamlets and food remain, cries abound.”
“Uh…”
“Not scorched earth, Kirhas.”
Fernandez softly caressed her ear.
“Now, attacker and defender have swapped roles.”
Dane fell the moment Fairn landed. Fairn’s field commanders had to hold maximum land while advancing on Altbert.
A perfect reversal of Sigismund’s original plan. Swapping roles. King Vicente’s post-Fairn invasion strategy: cede Fairn land, force him to defend it.
They’d turned it against him. Now, Dane defended Fairn soil, Fairn defended Dane’s.
But third-party forces roamed Dane and neighboring petty kingdoms. Uninvited guests. Far-off warriors plundering hamlets indiscriminately.