War of Rage (3)
War of Rage (3)
If one spoke of a sturdy fortress, it usually meant a place flanked by a river, cliffs, or a moat.
Sludge Hold had none of that. The terrain was flat, and surrounding the castle was entirely possible.
But after just one week of siege, the attacking army would all have one foot in the grave.
"What a repulsive castle."
Rex grimaced.
In the idiomatic expression 'damn tough,' if you poured about ninety percent of the sentiment into the modifier 'damn,' that would be the castle before them.
The swamp surrounding the castle was a hellish sight. The only way the army could move was the single road that pierced through the castle's front and rear gates.
"Baron Lester. I heard you have been inside that place before."
"Yes, Your Excellency. I stayed there for a few days when I was a squire. I grew up as Count Harvester's godson."
It was common for nobles to form ties in this way, even without a marriage alliance.
The commercially developed south and the agriculturally developed east were good trading partners, and they also shared a common border threat in the central region. That was why the great lords encouraged such friendly bonds.
Across the vast swamp that encircled the castle, there were bones and partially decayed corpses everywhere.
"They don't seem to clean at all."
"The miasma produced as those things rot becomes a weapon that guards the castle. There's no reason to clear them away."
"Do they execute criminals here as well?"
"Yes. There is no need to bury the bodies here. You simply toss them in a suitable spot."
Lester was genuinely astonished. Eugene had deduced the likely local culture from a single glance.
Though it seemed trivial, such discernment was an important virtue of a great lord. It greatly reduced trial and error, misunderstanding, and waste in governance.
"If you threw a body anywhere other than the swamp, the guard would be dispatched and you'd be fined. The bones in the swamp range from a few weeks old to over a thousand years."
"What about the castle's inhabitants catching epidemics?"
"The castle is completely separated from the swamp and has a small hot spring inside. Those on duty are required to bathe every day."
They were likely measures learned through experience. After all, when they had lived unsanitarily, they must have cleared more than a corpse or two from inside.
"I hear an epidemic is going around now. What happened?"
"The central-region bastards probably don't wash well."
"...Well, that works in our favor."
"To bypass the castle, you would have to make a long detour to the south. For an army of this size, the loss in supplies and time would be enormous."
Baron Lester wore a forlorn expression at the reality that a childhood memory had now become an obstacle.
"How did the central army manage to capture it in the first place? A direct assault seems hopeless."
"That place is a purely military fortress, devoid of any productive capacity. In peacetime it holds a small garrison, and in wartime a designated vassal enters and defends it."
"Their families would be left in the rear, then."
"Yes. Normally they would be safe in the domain behind the castle, but..."
Right now, the Vikings incited by the Kruger family were running rampant.
"Could they have abandoned their post and left the castle?"
"There's no way to know at present. That will come to light when rewards and punishments are decided after the war."
Eugene decided to try urging them to surrender, just in case.
"Are you going yourself, Your Excellency?"
"If I ride this fellow there, wouldn't the chance of persuasion increase by at least one percent? There's also something else I want to check."
Baron Lester could not dissuade his liege lord from stroking Might's neck. Whether in battle or reconnaissance, a ruler taking the lead on the battlefield was a virtue worthy of praise.
Especially in the case of a surrender demand, the commander going in person to speak shook the defenders' hearts far more strongly than sending an envoy.
* * *
What would happen if a general were ordered to attack an enemy country for a year with an army of ten thousand and a handful of provisions?
Most generals would lose their entire army within a few months and then get angry.
- This is not my fault! What am I supposed to do when nothing is provided?
On the other hand, there were generals who could somehow carry out operations for an entire year. Though the road behind them would be filled with the bitter tears of innocents, corpses, and ruined livelihoods.
Someone might object to the carnage.
- General! If you act so viciously, what of the resentment our country will incur?
Then the general would answer like this.
- My mission is to preserve this army of ten thousand and carry out operations, no matter what. Cleaning up the aftermath is the job of the politicians who issued such idiotic orders.
King Kruger was a classic example of the latter. A fearsome soldier who would go beyond attacking for a year and actually occupy an entire nation.
The sort of man who would be a disaster if born a ruler rather than a general. An age like the present, when that very thing was actually happening, was called an age of chaos. And in an age of chaos, warriors met miserable ends just as serfs did.
"When did he die?"
"I don't know. He wasn't coughing and his face was so peaceful I thought he was just getting a rare deep sleep."
The mercenaries defending Sludge Hold woke to find a comrade grown cold and mourned before him. But they could not leave the body as it was.
"You idiots! What do you think you're doing?"
Two new recruits trying to throw the corpse outside the castle wall froze at a veteran's shout.
"Then do we keep it inside the castle?"
"If you're going to throw it, throw it toward the east gate. Are you going to roll a corpse out right in front of the enemy? To show off, 'We've got an epidemic and we're dying off!'?"
"Ah..."
The mercenaries carrying the corpse descended the stairs and headed to the opposite side.
"Cough! Cough!"
Everywhere they passed, mercenaries were lying on field beds, coughing and moaning.
On one side, a horse that had died of disease was blazing. It was too heavy to throw outside the walls, and cutting it up posed a high risk of another plague spreading from the gushing fluids.
Gulp.
The rich smell of roasting meat. Hungry mercenaries all around swallowed hard.
"Don't even dream of eating it."
Even the glaring veteran was salivating.
"But, but if it's been cooked over fire, wouldn't it be fine?"
"Cooking with fire doesn't make everything safe."
"Please, just one mouthful. When you pick the mold off the bread we're rationed, less than half is left."
As one would expect of garrison troops left behind by a central army in dire straits, they were short on both food and supplies.
The adjutants shared the same unease at the sight of soldiers at their physical and mental limits.
"When are the promised supplies coming?"
"Look at those sacks piled up over there. The enemy can eat and drink like emperors while we wither away."
At the adjutants' pestering, Dolf, who commanded the Loyal Dog Mercenary Company, closed his eyes.
"His Majesty is sweeping through the east even now, so he will send a supply train soon."
"But..."
"If we carry out this defensive mission well, a baron's title awaits me. I will see to it that all of you live like VIPs in my domain, fat and comfortable."
The adjutants did not take Dolf's words lightly. Astonishingly, in this wretched situation they found hope in what he said.
More than ten mercenary captains serving with the Central Army had already been granted fiefs and become nobles.
Those with smaller achievements received poor or plundered places; those with great achievements got relatively intact ones.
- Nolt, Captain of the Golden Shield Mercenaries. I grant you Slong and Ulman as fiefs and exempt you from taxes for ten years.
- I am overwhelmed by Your Majesty's grace!
But to the mercenary captains, even that was intoxicating, as if they had been taken into the arms of a god.
If they could receive a domain and live as nobles, they were men who would stake not only their lives but even their souls on a gamble.
Had King Kruger been a tyrant who made no distinction between friend and foe, he would have been stabbed to death at some drinking party long ago. To his enemies he was a madman, but to his own men he was a ruler who gave generously.
Just then, a commotion arose.
"Don't eat it, you son of a bitch!"
"Aagh!"
A mercenary who had been reaching for the charred horse carcass was struck on the shoulder with a club.
The adjutants watching bit their parched, cracked lips. Their tongues were so dry they could not produce a drop of saliva, screaming for water.
The hot spring inside the castle that had always bubbled up water was now completely dry.
"Those damned eastern bastards."
The previous garrison had destroyed the water channel that fed the hot spring and blocked it off.
As a result, Dolf's mercenaries were struggling even to find drinking water, let alone wash. Worse, instead of the blocked channel, water had begun seeping up through the floor in various places, making everything damp.
That was the decisive reason the epidemic had broken out inside the castle.
At that moment, Eugene approached the castle with his Wendigo cloak billowing, imposing and dignified.
"Halt! Halt! Who goes there...."
A guard on the spire started to shout but his voice trailed off.
"Who are you, sir?"
Normally he would have bellowed, 'You there! Who are you?!' but the gigantic warhorse glaring with violet eyes was too terrifying for that.
"Eugene Meyer. Protector of the south and commander of that army. I demand that you open the gates and surrender."
No answer came. It was not a refusal; the guard had gone to fetch Dolf, the commander.
This was not an opponent a single soldier could handle. The same was certainly true of Dolf as well.
A moment later, a bald man with a flushed face appeared.
"Dolf, Captain of the Loyal Dog Mercenary Company. I am responsible for the defense of this castle."
"No family name? King Kruger wouldn't have stationed just anyone at such an important place."
There were countless cases of those who had once been nobles falling into ruin and taking up mercenary work.
"I am of common birth. I shall receive a family name from the king once I hold this place against you."
From that brief exchange alone, Eugene had an immediate intuition that the man named Dolf would not surrender.
"I'll get straight to the point. Disarm completely, open the gates, and surrender."
"A loyal dog does not wag its tail at an intruder."
"It wags plenty well if the intruder is holding a sausage. For what it's worth, I lived in the countryside for nearly twenty years."
"..."
Dolf wore a peculiar expression.
Was this man mocking him? A man who looked as though he had grown up in unimaginable luxury in some great house?
"Your men are starving and thirsty. To say nothing of the pestilence. You have shown your employer enough loyalty, so surrender now. It is nothing to be ashamed of."
"This castle has a hot spring and ample provisions. Everyone is more resolute than ever..."
"Stop with the pointless bluffing. I already know the situation inside."
Beside Eugene, Homi sat upon the desert warhorse Sandy, carrying the banner of the Meyer family.
Her nose had detected the stench of vomit, filth, and corpses wafting from within the castle. There was no refreshing scent of warm water or steam at all.
"If you surrender even now, I pledge upon my honor the safety of all of you. I will not confiscate your equipment or property. Any crimes committed before or during the war will also be pardoned."
Eugene saw the soldiers on the wall being tempted. But that was only the beginning.
"Everyone will be bathed in warm water and served food and drink fit for nobles. After the feast, you will be sent to Shade Garden and given a period of convalescence until all wounds and sicknesses are healed. I will also provide a modest travel allowance."
"!!!"
"!!!"
"!!!"
These were truly extraordinary terms. More than a few defenders looked at Dolf with earnest faces.
However, more men still kept their composure out of loyalty and respect for Dolf, and for the rewards they expected if they successfully held the castle.
The mercenary company's name was not "Loyal Dog" for nothing. That was precisely why King Kruger had entrusted them with this task.
"You will find it hard to come by terms of surrender this good in this insane civil war. I promise on the honor of the Meyer name, as administrator of the south and lord of Haven."
"...I tell you again, a loyal dog does not surrender."
But in the end, Dolf chose to fight.
"Everyone speaks of Lord Kruger as if he were a devil, but to me he is more gracious than anyone. I have already received the pardon Your Excellency speaks of from him. I will definitely hold this place, and His Majesty will send relief troops and supplies."
"As you wish."
Eugene nodded, then raised a finger and pointed to the swamp spread out beside him. Specifically, at the decayed bones within it.
"You lot will become members of that marshland."
The negotiations had broken down.
* * *
After returning, Eugene raised both palms before the vassals, knights, and witches who were staring at him from every side. Then he smiled affably.
"Sorry. I failed."
At the sight of her husband like that, Varda covered her face with both hands.
- It is good to be at ease with your vassals, but you are a great lord now. I think a bit more dignity would suit you better.
- It's not easy, my lady.
It was a point she had raised several times, but Eugene had no intention of changing.
"Tsk! Those fellows are squandering a lifetime of fortune."
"To be so generous to mere mercenaries. The people of the central region will surely wish to be governed by Your Excellency as well."
And contrary to Varda's worry, the vassals' reactions were only warm.
The reverence his accumulated achievements and daily conduct inspired was far too formidable for his authority to be tarnished by something like this.
And so the agenda moved on to the method of siege.
"There is no army more skilled at siegecraft than us! Just give us the order! We will take it without fail and make Meyer's banner fly!"
Eugene rejected the heartfelt request of the Hammer Brotherhood.
He was glad for their spirit, but he had no desire to throw elite troops into the mire just to capture a single gate. Being short of stature, dwarves would be all the more vulnerable to the contamination.
Moreover, siege engines could not be operated in the marshland. The position was such that even setting up a ladder was utterly unfeasible.
"That fortress is impregnable. There is no precedent for taking it by frontal assault with both sides fully prepared."
These were the words of Baron Lester, who knew the fortress well, so there was little reason to doubt him.
Even a fortress of no great note inevitably caused massive casualties if assaulted recklessly. Sludge Hold, however, was a vicious stronghold that forced attackers to do exactly that.
So great was its notoriety that none of the vassals thirsting for military glory dared to step forward.
Save for one.
"Please leave it to me."
The one who raised her hand was Cassandra.
"I shall climb the wall and open the gate for you."
Her figure was as though the Creator had shaped her from tens of thousands of lavender blossoms.
Everyone merely gazed at the beautiful face of Cassandra. Eugene did not dislike her arrogant smile.
* * *
Late at night, several days later.
Cassandra and the female warriors she had personally selected gathered in Eugene's tent.
"Dweir Castle had cliffs on three sides. Compared to taking that place, this is far easier."
These were the most skilled members of the Caracal Special Forces.
-Caracal?
-A feline beast of prey notable for its ears tufted with black fur. It has a foul temper, hissing as naturally as breathing, and is swift enough to catch a bird.
-It suits you well.
-Hehe! Thank you for the compliment.
Standing at ease in formation, they wore lamia bodysuits dyed in black.
The attire highlighted both the formidable swell of their breasts and their beautiful curves and toned muscles. It possessed a destructive power that seemed liable to burst the hearts of many a man.
The operation plan was simple. With the help of a witch skilled in weather and astronomy, they would pick the darkest day. Afterward, during the night, one hour before dawn, they would scale the wall.
The Caracal Special Forces possessed the finest rock-climbing skills and equipment in this world. Their light, supple, well-trained female dark elf bodies were ideal for this kind of operation.
Beneath their lamia suits they had added stab-resistant padding to protect their vitals, and they carried specialized weapons for assassinating enemies after infiltration.
"It is reassuring that the Lord of the Castle and Varda-nim are with us."
"I am the only one climbing the wall. Varda-nim will only accompany us as far as the base of the fortress."
Thanks to forest magic, this time they could employ a cord far superior to a grappling rope.
Varda, clad in a bodysuit with camouflage cream applied to her face, inspected the magical vine.
"It is time."
The female warrior with the undercut, who had been watching the sky, spoke.
The Caracal Special Forces slipped out of the encampment stealthily in the darkness. Though the mission was perilous, not a trace of fear could be seen on any of their faces.
It was not merely confidence borne of the sweat they had shed and the achievements they had accumulated, but something more: that the finest knight and the finest mage were with them.
The trust that came from that even gave them a strange sense of anticipation. It might have seemed a little too carefree, but that hardly mattered.
"Now, follow me. After Dweir Castle, let us add Sludge Hold to the spoils of the Caracal, as well."
For now, they simply wanted to follow the Lord of the Castle, whose broad back filled their view.
* * *
It was a night in which even the moon was veiled, but moving along the central road would have seen them instantly discovered.
Eugene entered the mire and approached from the direction where the fortress's surveillance was weakest. Above their heads, they held camouflage cloth patterned like the mire.
'The Hammer Brotherhood made these properly.'
The shoes had steel spikes the length of a finger embedded in their soles, allowing the wearer to traverse the swamp with ease.
Naturally, walking in such shoes while keeping a low profile demanded an immense sense of balance.
-Will Varda-nim be able to infiltrate wearing these?
-You need not worry, Cassandra. I am a mage, but also a forager and a keeper of the forest. Overcoming slipperiness and instability is my forte.
Even when a special forces operative voiced her concern, Varda revealed her confidence.
-Balance alone is not enough. Moving through the mudflats while staying concealed puts tremendous strain on the muscles as well. You have to hold a difficult posture for a long time.
Eugene set the still-worried operative's mind at ease.
-Do not worry about that, either. I guarantee Varda-nim will not give out halfway through.
-...Why is it you who answers that?
Thus, with the aid of such superb preparation, Eugene's party arrived at the base of the wall.
"Please."
At Eugene's word, Varda placed both hands against the wall and recited an incantation. The vines coiled around her arms swelled and climbed the wall.
'Oh.'
'Magnificent.'
At the sight, Cassandra and the female warriors all lit up with shining eyes. Homi's tail had been tied and bound around her waist, so it could do no more than twitch.
The vines stretched rapidly up the wall, then coiled like snakes around protrusions at the top and anchored themselves firmly.
Tug. Tug.
A few test tugs confirmed they were anchored securely.
"I shall climb first."
Cassandra and the undercut female warrior each took one of the two ropes.
Eugene had intended to climb first, but every woman taking part in the operation opposed him in unison.
-That honor in itself is enough.
-This time, we shall go first, for we know not what danger may be lurking.
In such an operation, the first to ascend faced the greatest danger. With ill luck, one could find oneself hanging from the wall and meeting eyes with defenders bearing crossbows.
-Even so, it would be better for me to—
-If things go poorly, we will have to jump down midway. If you are below to catch us, nothing could be safer.
-That is also true.
The special forces operatives marveled at how easily Varda talked her husband around.
The two dark elf women climbed at astonishing speed, hand over hand. At the end, they kicked off hard and vanished over the top of the wall.
'The die is cast.'
Immediately, Eugene and Homi took hold of the rope. Thanks to their innate monstrous strength, they could scale the wall even faster than the two who had gone before.
"..."
"..."
What the knight and his squire saw upon reaching the top were two dying mercenaries.
Cassandra had covered a mercenary's mouth with one hand and slit his throat with the other. Another mercenary had an awl driven up from beneath his jaw toward his brain.
Most of the Black Hand Clan now devoted themselves to training as warriors. The Caracal Special Forces were the ones who inherited the assassination techniques developed by their ancestors.
As they hid the bodies and stood watch, others followed over two at a time without a sound.
"Secure the main gate."
Sludge Hold had no sally port. It was a fortress erected upon the sole road penetrating the marshland, and the main gate and rear gate, one at each end of the road, were all it possessed.
This, too, was a factor that made it difficult to capture. Even were a turncoat to appear, opening the gate in secret required many accomplices, partly because the noise of opening and closing it would immediately draw notice.
"Two, at thirty meters."
At Eugene's whisper, Cassandra and Homi, the stealthiest in their movements, stepped forward.
Their approach, traversing by way of the darkened pools as if seeping into them, was such that even their allies struggled to track it.
Homi struck first.
Crack!
She covered the sentry's mouth from behind and broke his neck outright. It was a difficult technique, but it had the advantage of leaving no trace, as it shed no blood.
Cassandra, who had learned the assassin's footwork, was even more impressive. Moving on all fours with her chest hovering just above the ground, she was able to approach from directly ahead.
Shk!
Cassandra's dagger, erupting suddenly from before his feet, pierced the mercenary's throat. With a faint hiss of escaping air, he went limp.
Eugene had no need to issue any orders. The entire Caracal Special Forces were the foremost professionals of this age.
"Enemy..."
By this point, even the enemy had begun to notice something amiss, for it was the darkest of days and the duty officer had been paying close mind.
Pfft!
Pfft-pfft!
But before he could shout, he caught four poison darts in the neck and collapsed.
"Keep moving."
The female warriors lowered the blowguns from their lips as they neared the watchtower above the gate.
Pfft!
Pfft!
Those struck by poison darts in exposed areas such as the neck or cheek collapsed, trembling.
The specially trained female warriors possessed tremendous lung capacity. Their beautiful lips delivered silent, flying kisses of death.
"Secure the gate winch."
"Send the signal."
Atop the wall, two female warriors set a signal flare alight and cast it down. The rod, burning a brilliant blue, fell beyond the wall.
The signal could not be seen by the garrison inside, but it was clearly visible to the attacking force waiting outside.
"The operation has succeeded."
"All forces, advance."
The infantry, who had been holding their breath in the darkness, began their advance on the gate all at once.
"We're under attack!"
Only then, at last, did the alarm sound. But it was too late.
Rrrrrumble.
The gate was already rising, and the enemies who came scrambling were sent to the next world one after another by Eugene.
Slaaash!
"???"
When two of his comrades charging ahead beside him suddenly vanished, the defender was bewildered. Soon realizing that what had splashed copiously across his face and upper body was blood, the strength left his legs.
"Eek!"
The two comrades, their torsos, legs, and arms all sliced apart by a great axe swung horizontally, had been reduced to eight pieces. It shattered the will to fight in a single stroke.
Thud!
He took a blow to the head from the poll of the axe Eugene swung and was knocked unconscious.
"Waaaaaah!"
The Hammer Brotherhood, clad in heavy armor from head to toe, charged into the fortress with a roar, pouring in like a torrent. Sporadically, the defenders fired bolts, but to no effect.
They were dwarves, equipped with the sturdiest armor and shields and small in stature as well. In a night raid, they were strong against blindly loosed missile weapons.
From every direction came the sound of breaking bones and cries of pain. Bolts from dwarf-made crossbows punched through shields and gambesons, spilling blood.
"It is over. Well done, all of you."
Above the gate, Eugene let out a sigh of relief as he beheld the hundreds of torches stretching from the road into the fortress.
"Is there any reward you want? Medals and prize money will be given, of course, but I mean something beyond that."
"I wonder. For now, merely the feel of this wall is quite intoxicating to me."
Cassandra smiled as she stroked the stone wall. Sludge Hold had now joined Dweir Castle among the Caracal's achievements.
The Britannians who witnessed this sight would forever sing of how dangerous these beautiful female dark elf warriors were.
"If there is one thing I would wish for, it would be a bath. I hear the hot springs here are quite famous."
"It seems the water supply has been cut off, though?"
The scent Homi's nose had detected, as well as the state of the soldiers on the wall—neither suggested water was abundant.
"The previous garrison must have committed sabotage before it could be taken. But we have no shortage of dwarf engineers, so I expect it can be repaired."
"Restoring the hot springs is essential if we mean to use this fortress anyway. I'll find a chance for it before we march out."
"Thank you!"
Eugene looked down as the purification team entered, composed of tribal witches, healers, and slaves.
They could not leave a strategic stronghold they had captured at such cost sitting empty, yet the plague was rampant.
Another army would have been forced to assume the risk and garrison troops there, but Eugene could eliminate the danger in a short time through decontamination work.
"Then will the Lord of the Castle be joining us as well?"
Cassandra leaned against the wall and laughed. Though it was a moonless night, her violet pupils seemed to gleam, as if emitting their own light.
"Joining you in what?"
"Oh, as if you don't know!"
"Varda-nim is down below, so you do not need to worry about being seen."
"We'll wash your back for you. It's so broad you must have trouble reaching all of it yourself."
The special forces operatives giggled and clapped.
"..."
Eugene awkwardly smiled as he undid the binding strap around Homi's waist.
"You don't make dirty jokes at a married man."
At last her tail was freed, and a look of fresh relief crossed Homi's face, as if she had regained her life.
Rrrrrumble.
The rear gate hastily rose. Likely the garrison had opened it to flee, but they were subdued at once.
Through the slightly opened rear gate, the road leading to the east was visible. Now, nothing stood between the Central Army and Eugene.
It was time to end the civil war that had caused so many people so much suffering.
End
ⓒ Gusojae#1wecx