Conqueror (2)

"The time has finally come."

"Like it or not, we can't avoid the fight. Let's get there early and make an impression. The last one to show up gets marked."

The vassals regarded participation as a given. They led their pre-prepared arms and troops and answered the summons swiftly.

The burden of the mobilization costs, having some backing to rely on, or even resentment toward foreign rule — one might have expected someone to try holding out, but no such thing occurred.

Eugene wielded powerful influence through his two great victories and his marriage to Varda. The peaceful transfer of authority from Viscount Winchester had also played a major role.

And there was one more thing. Each of the lords had conducted their own background investigation on Eugene, seeking to verify the authenticity of the rumors surrounding their new liege.

-We hired adventurers and sent them to Lasta Monastery to confirm it. It was true that His Excellency the Count fought a death knight one-on-one and emerged victorious. The priests swore to it in the name of God, so it may be trusted.

-They say the stuffed specimens hanging in the lobby of the magic castle are genuine. Several renowned hunters were brought in to cross-check them, so there can be no doubt.

Astonishingly, the tales of his exploits contained no bluster or exaggeration — they were the genuine article.

"To rise this far in just over two years with naught but a single sword and one squire."

Even as a fledgling great lord, he was well worth trusting and following.

Once things stood thus, a summons was no longer a burdensome affair that merely drained coin. If fortune smiled, it might even prove an opportunity for profit — whether through plunder or ransoms.

* * *

The vassals of House Kruger, gathered in the war room, studied the map. Crude and riddled with errors though it was, all of Britannia was marked upon it.

"Spies and merchants report that the chaos in the south has been tidily resolved."

Countless little flags were planted across the map, indicating unit types and troop strength. The sheer mass of forces in the south was not a scale one could dismiss.

"To field such numbers even after two pitched battles."

"Viscount Winchester is a disgrace. If he was going to bow out, he might at least have thinned the invaders' numbers a bit before leaving."

The decision to muster nearly three thousand troops and strike before the Cornish nobles could assemble had not been a poor choice.

The only problem was that they had encountered an unimaginable calamity named Eugene. Had it not been for that, they would have been comfortably crushing the Cornish nobles piecemeal by now.

"Too many. No matter how you look at it, far too many."

The nobles sighed.

Viscount Winchester had led only those vassals who could mobilize immediately, aiming for a swift and decisive campaign. Because of this, the banners of unsummoned nobles still thronged the south.

All of them had now come under House Meyer. Once massed together, they would easily exceed five thousand even by the most conservative estimate. And that did not even include House Meyer's main force.

"Still, are they not southerners? Men who, even if you handed them swords, could do little more than peel potatoes and chop off fish heads. The most feeble soldier in our army could beat one of their centurions to death."

One noble spoke with bluster, but few responded in kind. For the situation had changed.

"Which bygone era's south are you talking about?"

"Had that Winchester wretch been their commander, perhaps."

Even assuming some exaggeration clung to Eugene's reputation, it was meaningless at this point. Even if only a fraction of a fraction were true, the man remained fearsome all the same.

A one-ton bear, reduced to two hundred and fifty kilograms, still tears a man apart in a single blow.

Thunk.

King Kruger, who had been seated at the head of the table keeping his silence, rose.

"I looked into Count Meyer's exploits on the continent. He really is a monster."

The nobles were startled by the king's reaction. It was the first time he had referred to the rival who had thrust himself into the civil war by his formal title, rather than as "that wretch" or by name alone.

And to call him a monster, no less. Kruger was a king feared as the "wise madman." To hear a monster called a monster by another monster — that was praise of the highest order.

"When the leader is a lion, even a flock of sheep learns the taste of meat. They dare to bare their teeth at wolves."

At their liege's mood, which seemed inclined to avoid battle, one vassal stepped forward.

"In that case, would it not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be best to propose a marriage alliance as originally planned?"

From the moment Viscount Winchester was defeated, House Kruger had been preparing marriage negotiations. But that was a course that had only been possible before Eugene married.

"Are you telling me to send my daughter as a concubine?"

"M-my apologies."

Under the sharp glare, the noble hastily bowed his head. The king did not harbor deep affection for his children, but his pride in his house was tremendous.

Unlike Samur, where multiple legal wives were permitted, Britannia allowed only concubinage. The moment Eugene married, a marriage alliance with House Kruger had all but vanished.

'What is to be done about this.'

The furrows in the king's brow deepened. His opponent was an utterly anomalous power.

Starting as a mere free knight, he had rapidly built up his strength and then seized the whole of southern Britannia in the blink of an eye.

And his wife was a daughter of the First Era royal house. The army he led was made up of dark elves and dwarves, peoples famed for their towering pride.

Even as a seasoned count, it gave him a headache to fathom how to deal with such a foe. He had only ever seen such things in fairy tales.

* * *

"Your Excellency. We suffered heavy losses in the last battle, you see."

A vassal who had faced Eugene under Viscount Winchester's command and been shattered bowed his head deeply.

His house's circumstances were far from good, yet this was the first summons. To refuse a summons at the most critical juncture, no less — and as one who had once raised a blade against Eugene?

The rest of his life would become exceedingly bitter. If he wished to avoid having his fief confiscated, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had to join the campaign even if it meant pulling out the very pillars of his house.

Scraping together troops in desperation meant eighty percent of them were levies. The one household knight he possessed could not attend either, his wounds still not fully healed.

"I am aware of your circumstances. You need not take the field — focus on transport duties in the rear."

When Eugene raised a hand, a young dark elf rode up on horseback.

"Here, Anderson will guide you on the supply route from the Wandering Castle to the operational zone. I shall attach additional laborers as well, so you need only ensure the horse fodder is moved on time."

"I shall carry it out with all my strength!"

At a task far more manageable than expected, the vassal stamped his foot and cried out.

"I expect devotion. If you acquit yourself well, I shall grant fitting reward."

At this unexpected windfall, the vassal struggled to keep his expression in check.

Eugene personally greeted each vassal who arrived thereafter, assigning duties according to their individual circumstances.

"Baron Lester! Welcome."

"I am honored to meet you."

"Ah! No need to dismount. Stay mounted as you are."

"...It is an honor to serve the knight famed as the mightiest in Roman."

"The honor is mine. I have heard much of your feats of arms — defeating eight hundred Vikings with three hundred men."

He took particular care to extend generous treatment to the great border families who guarded the frontier regions.

These were lords who had been granted special privileges to defend the south from the threats of the western, central, and eastern nobles. Their territories were vast, and their strength alone, even when combined, accounted for close to forty percent of the vassals' total fighting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠power.

"The Baron's mother is resting comfortably in the Shade Garden. Her vomiting has ceased, and the finest medicine women are tending to her. Let us watch and see how she progresses."

"I know, for I received my mother's letter. She wrote that this morning she ate two roasted chicken legs. When she was at home, she would often vomit even after taking only potato soup."

Baron Lester was a rare and devoted son.

His mother had struggled to safeguard the house in place of his father, who had fallen in battle against the Vikings. Through it all, she had raised the young Baron Lester with unstinting love.

Eugene had not simply let pass the report that such a mother's health was failing.

-His Excellency Meyer has ordered us to bring your mother here. She will be treated at the finest sanctuary to have endured since the First Era.

He dispatched tribal medicine women and the count's own dust-proof carriage to convey her to the Shade Garden.

On the journey here, Baron Lester had read and reread his mother's letter countless times.

"I beg you, entrust me with the most perilous battlefield. I shall repay you by spilling more than a barrel of blood — be it the enemy's or my own."

"I gratefully receive that sentiment. But let us first see whether the enemy can even approach us."

Behind Eugene stood the dark elf archer corps and the longbowmen brought by his vassals.

The south, though not to the extent of the west, also counted yew among its specialties. It had been the driving force that allowed the southern army, regarded as weak, to hold on stubbornly.

Among the steadily gathering vassals were many who had met Eugene only at the wedding and were now seeing his army for the first time.

Everyone felt both pride and fear at the discipline of the elite troops flying House Meyer's banners.

"I had heard they had many cavalry, but this..."

"They brought genuine nomadic tribes, did they not?"

The horse archers, who operated with remounts, and the elven composite bows lashed to their saddles — it was a sight wholly unfamiliar in Britannia.

The imposing presence of the heavily armored dwarf warriors, armed with hammers that seemed capable of shattering boulders and iron shields, was also tremendous.

Those dwarves did not cross the sea. The fact that the mighty soldiers of the continent, whose fearsomeness the vassals knew only by rumor, stood alongside them sent shivers through the lords.

It was at this juncture that an emissary arrived from the east.

* * *

"We have no intention whatsoever of fighting His Excellency Meyer. This war was started by the greedy House Kruger, who brought in barbarians from outside."

The emissary presented Eugene with a lavishly wrapped letter.

"This is a personal missive from His Excellency Count Harvester, administrator of eastern Britannia."

Homi took the letter in his stead and inspected it. It was a precaution against any possible poisoning. Nothing could escape her nose and intuition.

The letter's contents were simple: to conclude a non-aggression pact in order to bring down their common enemy, House Kruger.

It stopped short of a full alliance, for they regarded Eugene's momentum as a conqueror with wariness, and Eugene likewise found it difficult to trust the eastern nobles outright. It was fitting.

"They will provide food aid free of charge if we make our hostile intent toward Kruger unequivocal?"

"We have stockpiled enough provisions for an army of ten thousand to endure for two years. Including this year's harvest, that will increase to three years."

"I understand you have plenty of men and wheat alike. But my army is not a small one — do you not find it a waste?"

He had not expected them to hand it over generously for free — not merely offering an interest-free loan or selling at a discount.

"In any case, the east alone cannot hold back House Kruger. Rather than have our territories plundered and seized piecemeal, it is better to offer tribute to a neighbor who will fight them."

"I like that. Refreshing and candid."

The more provisions, the better. If the supply routes were diversified into southern and eastern corridors, the army would grow all the more secure.

"Making hostile intent unequivocal — that would mean attacking Kruger's territory, I take it?"

"Yes. It must be at least that much for His Excellency Harvester to persuade his vassals."

The south, led by Eugene, was a potential threat by sheer dint of its strength. Sending massive quantities of food to such a power was not something even Count Harvester could carry through on his sole authority.

"But this is post-payment. If I fight and you simply keep your mouth shut afterwards, I'll be the only one who looks the fool."

"In that case, you may simply cut off my head."

"Hm?"

To the puzzled Eugene, Baron Foster offered a quiet word.

"My lord. This is Count Harvester's eldest daughter, Lady Mirana."

"Ah, so that's how it was."

No wonder a mere emissary had carried herself with such noble grace and spoke with a refined accent — there had been a reason.

"I do recognize your sincerity. Sending your eldest as a hostage could not have been easy."

"I simply trust in your honor, my lord."

The emissary's very life was the surety for the pact. Eugene nodded.

"I accept the agreement."

"Thank you, my lord! I look forward to serving under you."

Mirana looked bright after successfully completing her mission. The Western Army's absurd defeat had left her feeling hopeless, but now a truly dependable force had appeared.

This negotiation, too, had been accomplished chiefly by Mirana, who had persuaded her father.

"Allow me to make introductions. This is Alber of the Louis family. If you have any questions, ask him. He's been living here longer, so he'll instruct you well."

Eugene had the two VIP guests greet each other.

"...A pleasure."

"This too must be fate. Let's get along well."

Alber wore an expression difficult to describe while Mirana smiled with easy charm. A great noble of Barsia as a prisoner and a great noble of Britannia as a hostage had now joined the party.

* * *

"Our Rothschild friends are competent, but they alone will not be enough to maintain control."

"As they say, humans only behave properly when commanded by another human. Leave it to me, and you just focus on the fighting."

"It truly is a relief to have you here, Marbas-nim."

An excellent summoner was, indeed, the perfect person to entrust Haven to in Eugene's absence.

For a summoner possessed both a mage's might and fearsomeness, and an ascetic's authority and veneration. Possessing the merits of both, they were beings who commanded respect.

"Tsk, barely a few days after setting up your bridal chamber, and the married couple heads side by side to the battlefield."

"Isn't the fact that we're together what matters? Neither Varda-nim nor I are fated to settle in one place."

"It's true that few beings can be as active on a large battlefield as the magic of the forest."

Even from Marbas's perspective, it did seem safer for the two to be on the battlefield together.

For if anything were to befall Eugene, Varda would wither away like a flower whose roots had vanished. Aiding her husband with her magic would be what preserved her own self.

"If a husband and wife distinguish themselves fighting side-by-side on the battlefield, that tale will be sung and passed down even hundreds of years from now."

"I've already commissioned a bard."

"You do take such things very seriously. In the best sense of the word, it's quite un-knightly."

He was a young man about whom Marbas was genuinely curious what he would be doing right now had he not become a knight.

"They will serve as your guards, Marbas-nim."

Eugene introduced the dark elf veterans, who stood at attention. Their outward appearance was over fifty — considering their race's longevity, their actual age would be far greater.

Yet from their fierce, glaring eyes, their muscular limbs, to their well-maintained equipment, they still exuded a distinctly elite air.

"They look like they could wring the neck of any ordinary mercenary with one hand."

"Is strength not the same as experience, Lord Summoner?"

The old soldiers and Marbas grinned, as though a kinship of fellow veterans ran between them.

"Still, is it permissible to disturb their peaceful twilight years like this?"

"They are all volunteers. They told me that while looking after grandchildren and working repair jobs, they began to miss their days in active service."

Eugene, who followed Lanchester's law, intended to concentrate maximum fighting power to minimize friendly losses. To that end, he wished to minimize active-duty troops left in the safe rearguard.

The veterans lacked stamina but possessed supreme experience and needed little sleep. Guard duty at the stronghold — they would perform it as well as any younger warrior.

* * *

The army assembled beneath Meyer's banner began its march west.

Their way was blocked by a river that bent seven times, thus named the Seven River, but there was a place where a bridge had been laid.

"Open the gate! The Lord of the South has come!"

The local lord here was also a vassal who had sworn loyalty to Eugene. The garrison presented arms in salute, and all around were stockpiled supplies laid up for Eugene.

"We eat on the far side of the river! If you want to eat faster, move faster!"

Voices urging the soldiers on burst out from all directions. The roars of beasts were no less thunderous by comparison.

Baaa.

Grrrrr-!

Triple-digit numbers of sheep, goats, and camels were moving with the army.

"This is my first time on such a march."

"So this is the expedition of a nomadic army."

All the vassals looked around in wonder. To them, an expedition meant soldiers, servants, and supply carts, nothing more. Yet this was an army that marched while herding livestock in parallel.

"The usual reward for soldiers is just plunder, but we can't fight all the time. The bulk of a war consists of marching and standing watch. I need something to reward those who carry out their duties well in between those times."

Fweeeet!

Homi's whistle rang out. Without any separate control, the livestock formed their column as neatly as trained soldiers and crossed the bridge.

"Few means of boosting morale are as quick and certain as feeding them meat."

"A truly accurate statement!"

"I see now why dark elves and dwarves have become so seamlessly united under your command! Who could harbor a grievance when their lord cares for his subordinates with such kindness?"

The vassals seized the moment to flatter him. They meant it to curry favor with Eugene, but the substance of what they said was not wrong.

Passing through the forest beyond the river would allow them to circumvent the domains of the western lords and head directly for King's Field.

Ordinarily, it was a route shunned for fear of monsters, bears, and wolves — but an army this size, the creatures would flee of their own accord.

Yet there were quite a few among them who, impiously, hoped for a monster attack.

'I wish to show my lord how I fight.'

'By the end of this civil war, many empty lands will be created.'

For the nobles who had joined this war with no fief of their own, there was no greater opportunity for advancement than this.

'That Hydra in the Bone Gallery was truly magnificent. They say he sliced off all those heads in a single stroke each.'

Even the nobles who held lands were eager to witness Eugene's widely renowned martial prowess with their own eyes.

"This direction is blocked. You must turn left and go around... What?!"

The guides were aghast at the sight of the forest moving of its own accord to open a path.

"Why are you surprised? As long as Varda-nim is with us, the forest is our ally. You've surely seen at least one case like this in records from the First Era."

"My lord, we have all considered those to be mere fairy tales, yet..."

"No longer."

The vassals were speechless. Like the resurrection of the Shade Garden, it was a spectacle that collapsed the common sense the nobles had known — but that hardly mattered.

Eugene and Varda. The sight of a knight and an elf looking back with their hands clasped together; it omitted many explanations and instantly convinced all who beheld it.

Having cut through the forest three times faster than originally planned, the army surged northward with irresistible momentum.

"According to customary law, if King's Field is recovered, your lordship may claim ownership of its crops."

Driving out an invader and then brazenly swallowing the land itself, bypassing its rightful owner — that would invite condemnation. But crops were regarded as spoils of war, so there was no problem. The equipment and ransoms of the dead Kruger troops were merely a bonus.

However, what Eugene's army found upon reaching the granary region was not swaying grains of wheat.

"The harvest is already done?"

"The grain wouldn't have been fully ripened yet. Even if reaped now, it's inedible."

Desolate wheat fields greeted Eugene's army.

"This was not reaped by men."

Eugene examined the roughly torn wheat stalks. The marks were not those of a farmer's sickle, but as though something far more brutal had ripped them away.

Just then, the dark elves' ears all pricked up at once. Homi was already laying an arrow on her bowstring.

"S-save..."

A soldier emerged, trudging through what remained of the wheat field. He had evidently suffered a severe blow to the head, for blood streamed from his nose, and his right arm had been torn off from the shoulder joint.

His strength spent, the soldier collapsed before Eugene's army and expired.

"Judging by his attire and features, he's a Kruger soldier. He appears to have been attacked by monsters."

At the knight's report after examining the corpse, Eugene sensed the situation was taking a strange turn.

"Monsters are currently besieging and attacking the castle!"

At the scouts' report after tracking the blood trail from the corpse, the nobles were equally dumbfounded.

"Are you sure you didn't see it wrong?"

"Monsters conducting a siege?"

This call to arms seemed to be bringing many a strange experience indeed.

* * *

Ordinarily, monsters attacked roads and dwellings; they almost never targeted a castle.

Because however much their savagery had devoured their intelligence, they were not so stupid as to ram their heads against a stone wall.

But a wooden fortress surrounded by a palisade was more vulnerable than a stone castle. To say nothing of one already damaged in many places by a siege between humans.

"Bring everything — carts, whatever you have! Just block it somehow!"

"If the gate is breached, we all die!"

After the Western Army had been routed, the wooden fortress where the Kruger banner still fluttered was now besieged by orcs.

"Waaaah!"

"Patton! Nooo!"

When the messenger who had been riding out to plead for aid was seized, all the defenders screamed. Not because they were overflowing with comradely love, but because he had been their only hope.

"Grrr!"

Under the orcs' rough grasp, the messenger was stripped of armor and clothing in an instant, left bare. Naturally, the orcs were not doing this to satisfy any lust.

Crunch, crunch.

Chew, chew.

"Grk-k-k-kh!"

Eaten alive, flesh and viscera chewed off of him, the messenger's eyes rolled back and bloody froth bubbled from his mouth.

"Damn it."

The archer on the wooden fortress wall, who had aimed his arrow, released the tension from the bowstring. The distance was too great even to grant him a merciful death.

The lower-ranked orcs could not muscle into the meat feast, but there was food scattered all around them. Their hideous mouths chewed the golden wheat, husk and all.

"You eyeballing sons of bitches!"

The defenders hurled curses at the orcs who, even as they chewed wheat grains, kept staring at the fortress. Because their own future now seemed scarcely different from that wheat.

The monsters had not let slip the feast opportunity that the chaos of war had gifted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them.

End

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