Episode 122 Ramire the Coward - The Saga of Lioncourt

The Lioncourt forces divided into four formations as they began the assault on Cambert Castle. The vanguard was led by Count Drene's army, The next formation by Viscount Benyr and Baron Gaye's armies, The third formation comprised the main Lioncourt forces, And the rear formation by Viscount Arbow and Baron Bachlor (Jean)'s army. This rotation strategy aimed to maintain a relentless assault, overwhelming the enemy with sheer numbers. The castle's entry point was narrow, necessitating a halt for the other formations while Count Drene pushed forward to prevent a bottleneck of troops. I found myself observing Count Drene's military prowess from within the third formation, which might aptly be called the main camp, accompanied by my retainers. Beside me were my son Simon and my cousin Roger. "Count Drene knows his business well, as expected," I remarked. "Is he wearing the enemy down?" Simon, who has a keen interest in warfare and is eager to learn from every skirmish, responded to my words. "He is, but that's not all. He's spreading out to draw out the enemy forces... You can tell there are at least 200 enemy soldiers in the fort, can't you?" "Oh, I see. Fascinating," Roger interjected, apparently impressed. Though he's seen many battles, he has his moments of naivety. "Come on, Roger, you need to be more vigilant," I chuckled, and a wave of laughter swept through the troops. Roger scratched his head, laughing along, "Oops, my bad." War is tense for everyone. A good laugh can ease the fear and tension. Though Roger isn't the most skilled in battle, he's adept at lifting spirits. It's a rare and valuable quality. Meanwhile, the battle at the fort continued. Count Drene's army blew their horns, rallying with battle cries but avoided a reckless charge. They skillfully used numerous ladders and battering rams to assault the fort. After about an hour, Poncello casually suggested to me, "It's about time, don't you think?" He was implying it was time to rotate the formation. Honestly, I thought it was a bit early, but Poncello is a master at troop management. It would be wise to heed his advice. "Right. Understood. Give the signal." Upon my command, the comrades immediately sounded the horn, and shortly after, a response echoed from Count Drene's formation. As Count Drene's troops began to withdraw, triumphant cheers arose from the fort. "They must be pleased... Understandably so," Rolo and Jiro commented conversationally. Indeed, this seesaw battle is about to get tougher. No matter how many times they're pushed back, it's terrifying how the enemy seems to emerge from the depths of the earth. Having experienced it myself, I couldn't help but sympathize with the soldiers of Cambert Castle. However, we couldn't afford to halt our assault. Count Drene's forces started to withdraw, while the shouts to boost morale began to rise from the next formation. *** The assault of the next formation continued. Viscount Benyr and Baron Gaye's armies launched vigorous assaults, repeatedly using brute force to breach the fort. Despite being repelled many times, it was clear they were exerting significant pressure on the fort. "Hmm, I heard that young Albert is in his first battle... What an intense combat style," I mused. "The retainers on either side must be desperate. They want to add prestige to the next head of their house," Rolo commented harshly. I was honestly impressed, but Rolo was critical. If the elderly retainers were fighting for the young master's sake, then it was Albert's accomplishment for leading them. Regardless of the reasons, a commander who inspires fierce fighting in his soldiers is a formidable one. Albert might be short, a handsome man with a gentle demeanor, yet perhaps this stirs a protective instinct in his retainers. ...Nevertheless, it's quite the fierce assault... People are not just what they seem. Perhaps even my unruly daughter might find him suitable to ride... I felt pleased to witness the unexpected prowess of Albert, who is betrothed to my eldest daughter Emma. Though Rolo had a more critical view, I vowed to praise Albert immensely later. "Your Majesty, don't overextend yourself. It's time," Poncello advised. "Right, understood. There's no need to incur further casualties," I acknowledged, signaling for the withdrawal. "Alright, our turn is next, stay sharp. Antremont, Berry, Simon! Let's leave it to the Bachlore forces," I instructed. Following my words, everyone swiftly took their positions. Though it may be a tangent, the Berry barony is now led by the younger brother of the deceased Nicola de Berry. The Antremont household also saw a rightful successor take the helm. Both are unremarkable men, but for now, they fulfill their military duties adequately. Berry is a stylish man in his forties with a salt-and-pepper look, while Antremont is a robust youth still in his late teens. Currently, Berry handles everything adeptly, but that's likely due to his experience. Observing the fort, it's clearly worn down... I judged it to be in a sufficiently conquerable state. I wanted the Bachlore forces to have their moment to shine this time. Even I wouldn't consider a headlong charge in a siege; that's simply not smart. Instead, stepping back and leaving it to my subordinates seems the right course of action. Shortly after, the Benyr and Gaye forces began their withdrawal. Though the retreat maintained discipline, there was undeniably some complacency. Suddenly, the fort's gates flung open, releasing an enemy sortie. ...Hmm, Baron Cocteau, perhaps? It’s impeccable timing on their part... I marveled at the pursuit launched at such an opportune moment. The attackers were few, a handful of cavalry and a few dozen infantry. However, they projected a fierce determination and maintained a wedge-shaped formation as they charged into the Benyr forces. The Cocteau troops from the fort cleaved through the Benyr forces like an arrow, running rampant as if set ablaze. It wasn't merely an attack to strike a withdrawing enemy. "Ridiculous! They're not retreating at all! What's Benyr's force doing? Get Albert out of there already!" I found myself on my feet, my voice rising. The Cocteau forces showed no sign of retreating, trampling over the Benyr forces mercilessly. The cavalry, in particular, fought spectacularly. Regardless of their fallen comrades, they continued to rampage without a glance sideways; those unhorsed continued the fight on foot. They drilled into the Benyr forces with relentless force. Feeling a sense of chilling fervor, a shiver ran down my spine. "Master Varian! They're breaking through! Mount up, quickly!" Rolo's urgent words pulled me back to reality. With haste, I mounted my black steed, Noir, and received a lance. My protective comrades drew closer, encircling me to ensure my safety. Disorder reigned in the Benyr ranks. Even from here, screams of panic reached us. In a victorious battle, no one desires to die. It’s a given that those who survive reap the spoils and rewards of war. Few would choose to confront formidable foes during a triumphant battle. Moreover, who would willingly battle foes who have become desperate warriors filled with resolve for death? This psychological effect on the battlefield saps morale and precipitates a rout. The forces under Benyr and Gaye were now in retreat, too demoralized to fight. Finally, though their numbers dwindled, the Cocteau forces that had sallied out from the fort managed to break through the Benyr and Gaye armies, eventually appearing before the Lioncourt forces. Only two cavalry remained, with merely seven infantry soldiers. Despite being battered and breathless, they formed a disciplined line and faced the Lioncourt army. ...Is that Ramire? I recognized the mounted leader of the group. Though his helmet was gone and half his face was reddened, it was undoubtedly the man who had negotiated a peace treaty with me. Ramire calmly urged his horse forward, boldly announcing his name. "I am Ramire de Cocteau! Known among Baron Cocteau's ranks as 'Ramire the Coward,' for I am deemed the most cowardly!" As soon as he spoke, a soldier behind Ramire collapsed with a thud, seemingly at the end of his strength. Unfazed, Ramire raised his voice even more. "I offer the spear of a coward to King Varian of Lioncourt! Charge, men!" The remaining two cavalry and eight troops, including infantry, raised their lances and charged. Logically, they could be dispatched easily with a volley of crossbows... but in that moment, the Lioncourt army was so overwhelmed by Ramire's fierce presence that they stood paralyzed. "Don't let them pass!" "This is your chance for glory, take down Lord Cocteau!" "We have the numbers!" "Surround them, and finish them off with our advantage in numbers!" Commanders shouted, and the Lioncourt forces, snapping back to reality, began to move. But in such a scenario, the overwhelming numbers would win. No matter how bravely Ramire and his men fought, they were gradually surrounded and reduced in number one by one. "Wait! We cannot let a warrior such as Lord Cocteau fall to mere soldiers; it would disgrace Lioncourt's name! I am Simon de Casta, first son of King Varian of Lioncourt! I challenge Ramire de Cocteau to a duel!" Just as Ramire was about to be taken down, Simon's commanding voice rang out, halting the soldiers. "Ah, Simon..." Protected by my comrades deep within our formation in preparation for the siege, I couldn't participate but could only watch the proceedings. The soldiers around Ramire pulled back, creating space for the horses to charge. Ramire, expressing gratitude, accepted the challenge and urged his horse towards Simon. Simon and Ramire readied their lances, meeting in combat. The victor was Simon. He deftly parried Ramire's lance upward and delivered a thrust to Ramire's chest. Ramire fell from his horse, dead with a single strike. For a moment, silence reigned, followed by a roar of triumph from the Lioncourt army. "Whoooa!!" "Simon!! Simon!!" "Ooooooh!!" The soldiers stomped their feet and shouted praises for the victor. Simon responded by raising his lance high towards the sky. ...Impressive. Both his conduct and his battle... I felt satisfied with Simon's performance and deeply grateful to Enzo, his mentor who had raised him to this point. Such chivalric displays are not my forte, which is why Simon’s splendid performance moved me deeply. Gradually, the scattered Benyr forces began to return to us. Despite the breakthrough, Ramire's forces were small, so the actual losses for Benyr and Gaye were not substantial. Had Ramire been followed by a larger force, Benyr might have suffered irreparable damage. Ironically, no spirited warriors followed the supposed coward Ramire in the Cocteau army. ...Ramire the Coward, indeed... It's likely he was reproached for cowardice and treachery by his lord after our peace negotiations. For a knight, being branded a coward leaves no choice but to show his mettle. He risked everything to shed the shame of cowardice. His death seemed more out of indignation than a mere battlefield demise. "Ramire de Cocteau... What a regrettable loss," I murmured, and my comrades nodded deeply in agreement, some even tearfully honoring his fierce battle. The people of Lioncourt revere bravery, regardless of enemy or ally. Ramire the Coward's combat will be remembered as a remarkably fierce tale for generations. Amidst the chaos, the Cocteau forces abandoned the fort and withdrew to the hilltop castle. Perhaps Ramire's valiant stand was to buy time for their retreat. If that's the case, what a display of loyalty... To sacrifice oneself for comrades deemed cowardly is a level of nobility not often heard in even the most romantic chivalric tales. In any case, with the fort fallen, Cambert Castle was now exposed. This determined the fate of the isolated stronghold. Surrounding map Illustration (By Mitemin) The image was provided by A-Tee. Having a consolidated map makes a significant difference. Ramire was inspired by Hisayuki Amago.