Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 567: Impatience
Chapter 567: Impatience
TL: Rui88
In contrast to the joyful atmosphere in Hydra, the capital of the Duchy of Eton, a somber mood hung over Fort Ness, the capital of another member of the New Protestant Alliance, the Horn Bay Alliance.
The Horn Bay Alliance had assembled a well-equipped army and joined with the allied forces that had gathered, intending to wage a great battle against the Church’s army. But the Crusader Army’s surprise attack by taking a northern route had disrupted the Alliance’s plans. The Council was divided, arguing incessantly over whether to proceed along the originally planned route or to turn back and rescue their allies.
Their bickering here caused the various allied armies that had come to their aid to leave one after another, returning to their own countries to defend their homelands. This immediately shrank the size of the frontline forces intended for the offensive.
Inside Speaker Marcus’s office, a repressive atmosphere filled the small space.
Marcus was slumped in his chair, smoking his pipe without moving. The glow of the burning tobacco in the bowl flickered between bright and dim, much like the Speaker’s own uncertain mood.
“Eton’s victory has put us in an awkward position.”
Councillor Foster, sitting opposite him, broke the silence.
“This will shake our position as the leader of the alliance.”
“It’s more than that, my old friend.”
Marcus took a letter from his drawer and handed it to Councillor Foster.
“This is a secret letter that was sent along with the battle .”
Foster hastily opened the envelope. He had only read a few lines when his eyes widened.
“What is Cabre trying to do, recognize the legal status of wizards? Has he gone mad?”
He continued reading. “Hmph, so that’s it. The Etonians’ victory on the battlefield was achieved with the power of wizards. I suppose this so-called recognition of spellcasters’ legal status was some kind of exchange.”
Marcus spread his hands helplessly. “Evidently, from the wording of the letter, he is informing us, not seeking our opinion. Perhaps in Grand Duke Cabre’s view, informing us in advance with a secret letter so we can prepare for the impact is already a great consideration for our alliance friendship.”
Foster frowned and said, “As one of the most important members of the New Protestant Alliance, Eton’s action will undoubtedly create huge waves. It might even lead some to believe that this is a decision of the entire alliance.”
Marcus and Foster were angered by their ally’s unilateral action, but they could not blame him. Eton’s situation at the time had been perilous, and the Horn Bay Alliance, which should have been its greatest support, had been unreliable. To choose a forbidden power in a moment of desperation was a choice made out of necessity.
Marcus said dejectedly, “If this news from Eton spreads, it will completely cut off any possibility of us making peace with the Church.”
Although they were split into New Protestants and Old Believers, everyone still believed in the same god. Now that the New Protestant side was openly embracing such “greatly disrespectful” heretics as wizards, it was hard to imagine the extent of the Church’s fury.
Foster asked with distress, “So? What should we do?”
Marcus’s face was grave as he said, “For now, we will not respond to the Grand Duke of Eton’s decision. We will wait until he makes a public announcement and see how the other allies react. But on the battlefield, we cannot continue to wait. We must take the initiative to attack.”
“But our offensive force is a third smaller than planned. Many of the allied armies have… have run back home.”
“We must still attack. Send the reserve forces from the rear to the front. We must first take three or four of their fortresses. We must display our strength, we cannot let Eton have all the glory. The Horn Bay Alliance must present a powerful image to the outside world, to let the enemy know who calls the shots in the opposing camp, and to show those wavering allies that they are merely icing on the cake, not indispensable.”
He instructed his old friend, “Foster, you and I must mobilize those councillors who share our position, to build momentum and make those wavering fellows understand that if they continue to dither, the Alliance’s leadership position will be in grave danger.”
Marquis Foster nodded heavily. “Marcus, you are right. I will do my best.”
…
Sigitas, the front line where the Horn Bay Alliance army and the Crusader Army were in a standoff. The army commander, Sharuba Basques, inspected the defenses together with Councillor Horace, who had come to deliver the orders. Accompanying them was Councillor Foster’s second son, Queller Foster, who had been called up to serve in the army.
Finally, they climbed a tall, temporary wooden tower used for observing the enemy. Councillor Horace shaded his eyes with his hand and looked towards the Crusader fortress not far to the east. The walls were built of massive stones, sturdy and tall, and were equipped with all sorts of defensive equipment: ballistae, catapults, and dropping stones. As for the outside of the fortress, circles of trenches surrounded it. Although he couldn’t see clearly, he didn’t need to think to know that the trenches were surely filled with sharp stakes.
Councillor Horace kept making hissing sounds, as if he had a sore in his mouth. Although he was a war hawk, seeing the enemy’s so heavily fortified fortress, he couldn’t help but picture the tragic scenes of a siege in his mind.
Finally, he frowned and said to the general beside him, “General Basques, the Council has reached a consensus. They demand that the army must win a battle or two, no matter how great the difficulty.”
A flash of dissatisfaction crossed General Basques’s eyes. ‘Those good-for-nothings in the rear, only now have they come to a final decision.’ He recalled with bitterness how it was the Council’s endless bickering over whether to launch an offensive or rescue their allies that had left the frontline troops in a state of uncertainty, daring not to make any rash moves. General Basques had, at the time, advocated for an immediate attack. If they could inflict heavy damage on the Crusader Army here, that flanking force that had taken the northern route would have no choice but to be redeployed here to support the main battlefield. Wouldn’t the plight of their allies then be naturally resolved?
But now, the opposing army had taken advantage of this period to leisurely build up their defenses, and a large number of allied troops had also run off, increasing the difficulty of the siege exponentially.
Alas, perhaps he should have ignored the squabbling in the rear and ordered the attack directly, General Basques thought. But if he were really given another chance, would he dare to give the order? The Horn Bay Alliance’s punishment for generals who acted without authorization was quite severe.
“I will resolutely carry out the orders from Fort Ness,” General Basques said. “I only hope that in the future, we will not face such a situation of not knowing whether to advance or retreat again. In these special times, orders from the highest level should be efficient and unerring, not leaving the army to wait on the sidelines while they have a quarrel first, while at the same time not allowing the army to take any autonomous action, thus wasting a tactical opportunity.”
“I… I will convey your opinion to the Council.”
Horace agreed awkwardly.
Chapter 567: Impatience
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