Raising the Princess to Overcome Death-Chapter 260

Raising the Princess to Overcome Death-Chapter 260

259: Engagement - Honor
"It's quick."
"My apologies, sir."
The Supreme Commander of the Bellita Kingdom's army bowed his head. Yet, the towering man before him, with his hands clasped behind his back, did not so much as acknowledge the gesture.
This man was Count Herman Forte.
One of the only three Swordmasters on the entire continent, he was also the man who held the reins of power in the Bellita Kingdom. His gaze was fixed on the city across the river, where smoke was rising in the distance. Already, the forces of the Astin Kingdom had taken positions along the riverbank, preparing to cross.
How pathetic.
However, Count Forte, who was both a knight and a politician, did not reprimand the Supreme Commander. After all, it was he himself who had appointed the man to this position, and he too shared the blame for not deploying the 1st and 2nd knight orders earlier. Returning to his tent, the Count spoke.
"We cannot undo what's already been lost. What do you plan to do next? Share your strategy with me."
"As of now, we have three possible courses of action."
Creak
... Count Forte sat down. The chair groaned under his weight, despite being sturdy, and the Supreme Commander continued speaking.
"First, we can prevent the enemy from crossing the river. We've already destroyed the stone bridge, and our mages say the river's width will make it easy to intercept the enemy without interference from their mages."
"...Are you suggesting a magic battle? Both sides will suffer heavy losses... and wouldn't we need more archers for such a strategy?"
"Yes, that's the problem. I regret to inform you that the enemy has a significantly larger number of archers. Those barbarians usually do. However, we can safely unleash our magic on the river, so even in the worst-case scenario, it should be a draw... We won't suffer too much."
"And the second option?"
"The second option is to let the enemy cross the river. Meanwhile, we send a separate detachment across the river. The enemy, in their haste to advance, has not solidified their occupation of the territory. They've bypassed most of the villages and are maintaining a tenuous supply line. If we send a detachment to cut this line, the enemy that has crossed the river will be trapped and unable to move forward or retreat."
"Hmm. And the third?"
Creaaak.
The Swordmaster unfolded his arms and leaned forward. It was a positive sign, which made the young commander inwardly sigh with relief.
"The final option is for us to retreat to 'Toridom.' The reason being..."
Count Herman Forte's eyes sharpened, as if asking what kind of strategy that was, prompting the commander to quickly continue.
"We have no reason to fight the enemy at the cost of our own losses. They've come too far. As I mentioned earlier, they haven't occupied the surrounding territories, so it's safe to say their army is precariously positioned here. Their objective is clear. They intend to seize Toridom before our reinforcements can arrive and take control of the Toddler region."
"So you suggest we withdraw into Toridom and hold out?"
"Yes. If we can buy enough time, the situation will turn in our favor. Besides, apart from Toridom, there are no fortresses or defensive positions in the Toddler region that they can capture or use to their advantage. The enemy won't want to face our army on the open plains, and they'll be forced to retreat. When they do, we'll strike, and right here, they will be annihilated."
The young commander pointed to the ground where he stood as he spoke.
The retreating enemy would once again face this river. While they may have crossed it easily the first time, it would become a massive barrier blocking their path on their return.
Count Herman Forte looked at the promising commander before him. Barely in his early thirties, quite young for a commander, he was filled with determination, eager to prove himself.
Count Forte rescinded his earlier harsh judgment of the man. It seemed their setbacks thus far were due to his lack of experience. After all, the enemy's supreme commander had fought in the fierce Nine Days War.
Experience in handling soldiers inevitably differed. However, it was fortunate that there seemed to be little difference in their strategic insight.
"I've chosen my people well."
The Count sighed, feeling that as long as this young man (for a man nearing fifty, the commander appeared young indeed) was around, the Bellita Kingdom would be safe from all threats.
His thoughts then turned to his disappointing son. As a late-born child and his designated heir, the Count had spared the rod too often, concerned with preserving his son's dignity.
He should have disciplined the boy more when he first showed signs of trouble... His son, Gilbert Forte, had grown into a disgrace of a man, a source of embarrassment even to his own father.
Now he had supposedly joined the eastern tour hosted by Count Gustav Peter? Accompanying the sons of other nobles?
At his age, he still did nothing but indulge in debauchery... In hindsight, sending him to the Capital Church might have been the better choice. The Holy Kingdom of Jerome was effectively ruled by the Cross Church, so studying there (regardless of how much he actually learned) could have been useful later on.
If not that, then when Count Peter proposed a marriage alliance with his only daughter, he should have somehow forced Gilbert to marry her, even if it meant imprisoning the runaway girl.
The reason for such extreme thoughts now was that Count Peter's family was the only one who had ever sought an alliance through marriage. Despite Count Forte's influence, his son was simply too notorious.
Raising a child is so difficult.
He regretted not being able to spend more time with his son during his formative years, being too busy ‘protecting’ the royal palace. Yet, there was nothing to be done about it.
Count Forte, who had completely failed in his son's upbringing, shook his head. Pushing his thoughts aside, he returned to contemplating the strategies the commander had presented.
The third option seemed the best.
It was a kind of scorched-earth defensive strategy, one that only a bold strategist would dare to execute.
If they withdrew, the enemy would trample upon the kingdom's land as they advanced. Many farmlands and villages would be looted, and the lords would lose their castles. The people would undoubtedly be taken as slaves.
But frankly, none of that mattered. Count Herman Forte found himself favoring this bold strategy crafted by the commander.
The Bellita Kingdom would not fall from the loss of just one region. Those northern barbarians would come to understand the overwhelming difference in national power.
However, perhaps due to his youth, the commander had overlooked a critical factor.
No matter what, the Toddler region could not be allowed to fall into enemy hands. The enemy could not be permitted to set foot on that land.
The Toddler region was as symbolic a place as Orville. Even if the enemy were repelled later, the question would still arise: what had the army been doing while the enemy reached that far? And this wasn’t merely a matter of strategy, but of politics.
Particularly, Marquis Benar Tatian would not remain silent. Count Herman Forte thought about delegating full authority to the trusted commander and returning to the capital, but after coming this far, he couldn’t just leave empty-handed. He decided to stay and protect the bright future of this young general. A couple of weeks wouldn't hurt.
"The second plan is the better one."
"...What? But... I believe that the second plan is..."
"No. The second plan is the best. The first, as you know, will result in significant losses, and the third is too reckless. Withdraw the troops five
ri
(about 2 km) from the river. Use a detachment to divert the enemy's attention to the rear, and have the main force pressure the enemy so that they cannot cross the river with ease."
"Do you have a plan?"
Count Herman Forte grinned as he grasped his sword.
"They say Baron Albacete hasn't arrived. The Kingdom of Astin will pay for that. I'll bring back the prince who started this war."
*
Count Herman Forte led the knights of the 1st Order across the river. It was the night following the day the Astin Kingdom's forces began crossing. The Count had taken a long detour downstream to cross the river and now surveyed the enemy's encampment under the cover of darkness.
The prince's banner had not yet crossed the river; it remained on this side. The enemy was cautiously sending troops one at a time, trying to discern the intentions behind the Bellita army's withdrawal.
'Whose idea was it? Those bastards have used their heads.'
A pontoon bridge had been laid across the river, the boats along the riverbank strung together and planks placed atop them. This made transporting supplies and troops far more efficient than ferrying them across by boat.
It also helped the troops who had crossed feel less isolated.
The enemy's camp was divided into seven large sections.
Two of these camps were stationed across the river, prepared for any assaults from the Bellita Kingdom's forces. One was garrisoned in a small town called 'Langzra,' and another seemed to be a supply unit, setting up camp just outside the fortress.
The remaining three made up the main force of the Astin Kingdom. The unit in front of the pontoon bridge housed Prince Arnulf de Klaus, proudly flying the Klaus royal family's banner.
The other two units were spread out to the upper and lower reaches of the river, seemingly positioned to protect the prince's camp.
"We'll split our forces as well. The 3rd, 4th, and 5th Knight Divisions will attack that unit near the town. The 6th, 7th, and 8th Knight Divisions will ambush between the main force and that unit, cutting off any reinforcements and buying us time. There's no need to overextend yourselves—cause as much chaos as possible, but retreat if the situation becomes dangerous. When retreating, you don’t need to return across the river to rejoin the main force. There’s no need to regroup the divisions; each team should find their own way back and independently strike at the enemy’s supply lines. With many villages left unoccupied by the enemy, it won’t be hard to hide. Is that understood? Then the 1st and 2nd Knight Divisions will follow me."
Count Forte issued his orders to the eight knight commanders.
To fully understand his instructions, it's necessary to grasp the organization of the knights. The 1st Knight Order of the Bellita Kingdom was composed of eight divisions. Each division consisted of approximately ten teams, with each team comprising about twenty knights paired into shooter and support roles.
However, this structure was somewhat flexible. Some teams had three members, and a division could have more or fewer than ten teams, making the number of knights in a division variable.
On average, a division consisted of around twenty knights. The six divisions under Count Forte's command mounted their horses and disappeared into the night. The 1st and 2nd Divisions, led by Count Herman Forte, waited for a moment.
-
Whoosh!
"Enemy approaching!"
A blue line shot across the night sky, devoid of moonlight. The Astin Kingdom's army became frantic, but not because of any action by the knights. On the opposite side of the river, the Bellita Kingdom's army had suddenly advanced in the dead of night.
It was a ruse.
However, unaware of this, the Astin Kingdom's troops were alarmed by the advance, hurriedly sending mages and knights across the pontoon bridge. But then, another blue line rose from the rear, causing them to hesitate and fall into confusion.
This second signal came from the knights who had attacked the rear camp. Count Herman Forte realized it was time for them to move as well.
But he did not rush. He waited until the main force protecting the prince was sufficiently dispersed, then gave the order.
"I will lead the charge. Our target is the prince. We will break through in one swift attack. If any mages appear, immediately. Now... let's move!"
-
Thud thud thud.
The hooves of the horses, wrapped in cloth to muffle the sound, pounded the ground. Despite their efforts to minimize noise, the forty mounted knights could not avoid detection by the tense soldiers. A soldier noticed the dim, flickering campfires in the mist and shouted.
"Who goes there? Halt! Halt and give the password... Ah! The enemy!"
"Charge!!"
-
Crash!
Dozens of horses leaped over the waist-high barricades. One knight, who had neglected his horsemanship training, fell, while a campfire, supported by an iron tripod, toppled over, scattering embers in all directions. The mounted knights trampled the soldiers underfoot as they charged toward the prince's tent.
"What... What is this? Stop them! Stop them!"
Madmen! Charging straight into the heart of the enemy camp, even on horseback?
Yet, unlike the flickering red of the campfires, the brilliant white aura radiating from Count Forte's blade paralyzed the lead officer's senses.
"Sword... Master."
Wielding a greatsword while riding a horse is no easy feat. Count Forte, therefore, held his sword in one hand, quietly igniting the aura blade, which intimidated the soldiers, preventing them from even attempting to block his advance.
No matter how large the camp, it was still just a camp. They swiftly passed through the dozens of tents, arriving at the spot marked by the prince's banner. Only then did the soldiers begin to resist.
"They're heading for the prince! Stop them! Hurry!"
Soldiers grabbed whatever they could find, hurling objects and trying to spear the knights' horses, but it was already too late.
Count Herman Forte shouted at the young man standing in front of the grand tent.
"Hahaha! It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Arnulf de Klaus. It seems we meet at last on the battlefield."
"Count Herman Forte... It's a pleasure to see you again."
Count Forte dismounted, showing the proper respect to the prince, while the knights around him cut down the approaching soldiers.
With the prince acknowledging him, the battle momentarily subsided. Standing between the prince and his knights, Count Forte spoke.
"I've come to capture you, Prince."
"...It seems so. But how do you plan to escape from here?"
"If I hold your life as collateral, it won't be difficult. However, I respect you, and since my princess shares some responsibility for this war, I’d like to propose a solution that benefits us both."
"I’m listening."
"Let's assume I’ve captured you here and now. In that case, I request that you withdraw your forces. I’m willing to negotiate peace within reasonable terms. But, since we are the ones who were invaded... well, would you consider cutting off a lock of your hair? That would allow us to save face."
"...I need a moment to think."
The prince appeared to be considering his options. But then, Count Forte shouted.
"I’m afraid I can’t give you much time! This offer was made purely out of respect for you... but perhaps this will help you make up your mind!"
Behind the prince, a red-robed mage appeared. Realizing there was no more time to waste, Count Forte struck with a powerful aura blade. The knight standing in front of him should have been cleaved in two without even a chance to react, but then something incredible happened.
-
Clang!
"...What...?"
The aura blade was blocked. If it had been stopped by another aura blade, that might have been understandable, but the weapon that parried his strike was a simple brown longsword.
[Sword – Unbroken.]
Leo Dexter grinned. The lion, bound by chains, had walked right into a trap, and it was a severe one at that.
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Chapter 260