Chapter 212: Operation North of the Rhine 3
Chapter 212: Operation North of the Rhine 3
Bayatur thought that the work of destroying and subjugating Gaul was going smoothly.
He stayed on the Île de la Cité, which corresponds to modern Paris on the Seine River, and distributed the pastures of Gaul.
He made most of the northern part into pastures owned by the Supreme Senior Warrior, and divided the remaining small areas among various tribes.
He gave a considerable part of the south to Senior Warrior Altan, who had made a great contribution in the beginning, and decided to distribute the rest of the area to three other Senior Warriors.
He wondered if he could start moving his gers and family from the Black Soil Plain after stabilizing Gaul for a few months.
But he only thought about it and did not actually put it into action.
Bartjargal, Bayatur’s lieutenant and one of the four Senior Warriors, seemed to have the same idea.
“It’s not easy to go from the Black Soil to Gaul. You have to pass through Germania, and if there are a few Roman soldiers ambushing in the dense forest, you can suffer a lot of damage. And there may be some rebellious Gaul tribes waiting for an opportunity.”
“Yeah. Fighting in the forest is not our specialty. After stabilizing Gaul completely, we’ll have to do something about Germania.”
“Altan would say to kill them all and burn them.”
“You never know if he’ll really do that, so don’t even joke about it. It’s no use conquering if you kill them all.”
No matter how much he tried to instill fear, it was unbelievable that such a slaughterer left Bosporus alone. He thought he would surely destroy it.
“He’s not stupid enough to not know which one is more profitable. If he was that dumb, I wouldn’t have left him in that position.”
“I see. Then do you intend to leave him in charge of southern Gaul for a while?”
“The enemy stabilized the defense lines of Hispania and the Alps faster than expected. I didn’t underestimate Bokje, but he seems to be more cunning than I thought. I told Altan to reinforce his troops for now, so he’ll contact me soon.”
The swift response of Rome was unexpected, but not completely out of consideration.
As long as they made Gaul completely theirs and connected Germania and the Black Soil Plain completely, there would be no problem.
He heard that Rome’s army was advancing northward a few days later.
He quickly formed additional scouts and investigated, and an additional report came back that the enemy’s troop size was about 200,000.
Did the enemy finally come out for a decisive battle? He thought so, but soon realized that it was not.
The enemy’s army repeatedly built fortifications as they ascended the Rhine River.
He couldn’t get a clear picture from the report alone, so Bayatur personally led 50,000 troops and went out to see for himself.
And what he saw with his own eyes was Rome’s army digging trenches without rest across the river.
He tried to sneak up and see, but arrows rained down immediately, and it was not easy.
He tried to fight them, but there were too many enemies and he had to give up for now.
“Summon all the troops that can be gathered for now. I need to see how they react.”
Two more troops led by two Senior Warriors joined.
But still, Rome’s army did not fight back and only strengthened their defense and kept digging.
One of the Senior Warriors, Otgonbayar, led his troops and bypassed the river to attack them, but their rear defense was also thorough and it was hard to attack.
Even worse, one of the impatient tribal chiefs approached recklessly and lost his life to the enemy’s surprise attack.
“This is ridiculous. Those cowardly bastards don’t even come out of their fortifications, so there’s no fight.”
Bayatur looked at Rome’s army working hard to turn over the Rhine River with forceful momentum, and suddenly a possibility came to his mind.
“Bartjargal, send a messenger to Altan right now. Tell him to investigate in detail how weak the defense forces of Hispania and the Alps are. And tell him to come and report himself.”
“You mean you’ll concentrate your troops and break through if they’re neglecting their defense there.”
“Yes. If either side has weak defense, we’ll concentrate our army and break through. If we use Gauls as shields, our damage won’t be too big.”
He said so, but Bayatur was half sure that Rome’s army would not leave their defense line weak.
If it was another commander, maybe not, but Caesar wouldn’t have made such a careless strategy that couldn’t see behind him.
Then Caesar’s intention naturally came to his mind.
It was only a suspicion at best, but he needed to think of a countermeasure.
Bayatur separately picked out messengers and sent them to the tribal chiefs scattered throughout Gaul.
Until the report of the messenger came back, Bayatur and the Hun cavalry maintained a certain distance and observed the actions of Rome’s army.
Whether there was a large force of Huns or not, Rome’s army did not care and silently dug trenches and erected stakes.
And a few days later, when the investigation was over, Altan came and reported as ordered.
“Supreme Senior Warrior, I confirmed that the defense forces of the Pyrenees and the Alps are almost unchanged. It seems that they have mobilized a lot of troops this time.”
“The defense lines of the Pyrenees and the Alps are not weakened at all?”
Bartjargal, the Supreme Senior Warrior’s lieutenant, read Caesar’s intention as soon as he heard Altan’s words.
“Supreme Senior Warrior! They’re trying to trap us!”
He had already expected that, but Bayatur nodded slowly.
“That’s probably it. They’re spending such a huge amount of resources so stupidly… no, surely. They must know that they can handle it.”
The faces of the four Senior Warriors gathered in one place hardened.
“This is… the power of a great empire.”
The other Senior Warriors also agreed with Otgonbayar’s murmuring, as if he were talking to himself, and wore bored expressions.
Bayatur glanced at the faces of his subordinates and casually threw out a word without hesitation.
“We’re retreating. We’ll give up Gaul, cross the Rhine River as quickly as possible, and return to the Black Soil Plain.”
“What?”
“What are you talking about…?”
“Are you saying we’re just leaving here?”
The Senior Warriors, except for Bartjargal, opened their eyes wide in astonishment.
How could he give up Gaul so easily, when they had gained it?
Especially Altan, who had received the most pastures, was very dissatisfied.
“Even if they mobilized a lot of troops, isn’t it too easy to give up like this?”
“Are you objecting to the Supreme Senior Warrior’s judgment?”
Bartjargal countered, and Altan flinched for a moment, but he did not back down this time.
“No, I’m just saying that he’s not even a general of the Middle Kingdom… We just have to trample their pathetic defense line with our army.”
“Do you want to face 200,000 troops across the river head-on?”
“No, who said we should fight head-on? We should cross the river and hit their rear.”
“Do you think someone without a brain couldn’t think of that method? If you go back, most of that side is forested and it’s hard to operate a large army. You don’t know that? You’re saying we should attack 200,000 troops with a river in front and a forest behind—are you in your right mind… tsk tsk.”
Bartjargal clicked his tongue pityingly, and Altan’s face turned red.
He slammed the table loudly and snapped.
“Shut up! I asked the Supreme Senior Warrior for his opinion, not yours!”
“What? A lunatic who only has slaughter and arson in his head dares to—”
As the two were about to fight openly, Bayatur’s low voice settled the ger.
“Quiet.”
Altan and Bartjargal quickly knelt and bowed their heads.
“We’re sorry, Supreme Senior Warrior!”
“We’re sorry. We showed you an ugly sight.”
“Get up. We don’t have time to argue right now.”
Bayatur looked around at the tense Senior Warriors calmly and spoke evenly.
“We should have attacked before they built their fortifications, but unfortunately it’s too late now. They’re using the terrain as much as possible, so there’s no advantage for us. If we force an attack, even if we win, our losses will be enormous. It doesn’t add up no matter how I calculate it.”
“Well, if we end up annihilating each other here, it would only benefit Rome.”
Even if Rome mobilized a huge amount of troops this time, it was not all of their power.
There was still a large force led by Sextus and Marcus in the east.
They had to avoid unnecessary losses at this stage.
“Then do we just retreat and regroup in the Black Soil Plain? But they’ve set up their camp on the Rhine River like that, so it won’t be easy to enter Gaul again.”
“I don’t plan to come back to Gaul. The next place we’ll attack is right here!”
Otgonbayar’s concern was dismissed lightly, and Bayatur raised his baton and slammed it hard onto the map.
The baton tore the map and stuck into the table, shaking slightly.
The Senior Warriors looked at each other and nodded as they confirmed the area beneath it.
“Greece…”
“Yes. The next opponent is the son of Namje.”
“I heard that Greece is as rich and prosperous as Rome itself. But will they fight us obediently? If they stay in their castles and only strengthen their defenses, it won’t be easy to attack them.”
“We’ll make sure they can’t do that. I’ve already made a plan for it.”
The faces of the Senior Warriors—except Altan—brightened.
As long as Bayatur said so, they only had to trust and follow.
Only Altan, who hadn’t given up his attachment yet, cautiously raised his concern.
“But if we retreat like this, won’t it affect the morale of our soldiers? And won’t it look bad to those who joined us?”
“Why do you think it will affect morale? We haven’t lost anything in reality.”
“…Yes?”
“Think about it. In this war, we annihilated three Roman legions and took their equipment and flags.
And we looted Gaul and gained a lot of supplies as a bonus. The ones who died fighting Rome were mostly slave soldiers captured from Gaul and Germania, and our army suffered almost no losses.
On the other hand, Rome is pouring out enormous resources just to drive us out. We would have lost if we were trapped in their plan—but that didn’t happen.”
Bartjargal nodded and added to Bayatur’s words.
“We got satisfactory results from the first expedition. The enemy’s consumption was far greater than ours, and more importantly, we prepared excellent bait for the next fight.”
“That’s right. So let’s return with pride. The enemy is a powerful country, stronger than Hannara. I never thought we could overthrow them in a single expedition.”
Bayatur stepped out of the ger, mounted his horse, and took the reins.
He looked at Altan following him and smiled cheerfully.
“You can stay in Gaul if you want, or try to break through the Roman camp. But if you don’t follow me now, I’ll leave you behind.”
“O-of course I’ll go! I, Altan, will leave this place with the Supreme Senior Warrior right now!”
“See? This is why I can’t help but like you. Such a cute reaction. Hahaha!”
There was probably only one person in the world who could call a Hun Senior Warrior cute, and that was Bayatur.
If anyone else had said it, even a king, Altan would have killed them on the spot.
But Bayatur was an exception.
The loyalty the Senior Warriors and Hun warriors felt toward the Supreme Senior Warrior was absolute.
They crossed the Rhine River and left Rome far behind as soon as the retreat order was issued.
It was a swift retreat, prepared in advance for any situation.
Caesar considered pursuit once, but gave it up when he saw how fast they moved.
Even a surprise attack would have inflicted little damage, and completing the Rhine defense line was more urgent.
Still, he honestly admired Bayatur’s judgment, who immediately detected the trap and withdrew without hesitation.
That was why he had to be even more careful to prevent Bayatur’s cavalry from crossing the Rhine again.
Caesar encouraged his subordinates, completed the Rhine defense line, and officially declared that Gaul had been regained.
The Gauls, who had finally returned home after long years as refugees, shed tears of joy.
When news spread that the Huns had been driven beyond the Rhine, Rome also erupted in celebration, praising Caesar and his soldiers.
But some people couldn’t smile sincerely.
They were Caesar’s soldiers—the so-called heroes who had “saved” Gaul.
“Tsk, we just did useless work and dug ditches from start to finish. And they call us heroes of Gaul and Rome.”
“The saviors of Gaul? The heroes of Rome? Me?”
The protagonists of these great achievements listened to the praise but only felt dizzy.
“What am I supposed to say at home… that I dug a ditch and the enemy ran away?”
The Gaul warriors who reclaimed their land had their own confused reactions.
“The Huns were so fierce when they came, but they ran away without fighting? Why? Did they really all leave?”
“That’s right. They completely withdrew from Gaul, and Rome calls us saviors of Gaul and heroes of Rome. I can’t believe it either…”
“Well, anyway, we got our homes back! W-wow!”
“Wow! We won!”
Gaul warriors and Roman legionaries alike put down their weapons—or rather, their shovels—and embraced each other with tears.
Those tears felt more like relief than joy.
The cheers came late, but Caesar watched with satisfaction and evaluated the efficiency of his strategy.
He even briefly considered building an endless ditch defense line along the Elbe–Danube and reclaiming Germania.
That idea was immediately vetoed by all his legates and centurions.
“Imperator! It’s pointless to build defenses in forests where they won’t even come!”
“That’s right! They’ll probably target the east next—reinforcing the Alps is better!”
“That’s right! Germania can be restored gradually after the war!”
Caesar glanced at Vercingetorix, but Vercingetorix avoided his gaze and pretended not to hear.
Reluctantly, Caesar gave up the idea and postponed the Elbe–Danube defense line for now.
But he made one thing clear.
“The eastern Alps take priority for now. But remember—defensive lines are something we will need someday.”
In this way, not only Gaul but also Caesar’s legionaries were preserved, and the preliminary scouting war came to an end.
But Caesar knew it was not over.
The fire of war had not been extinguished.
It had only moved elsewhere.
And he could clearly see where it would flare up again.
I wonder if Sextus can handle him…
Caesar’s anxious gaze turned east, toward Greece, land of gods and a brilliant cultural legacy.