Episode 130 Unpleasant Victory - The Saga of Lioncourt

After the great battle, the Lioncourt army turned its forces westward, setting their sights on Auger Castle. Some subordinates had suggested launching an attack on Darmont Castle, but being the provincial capital, razing it with an army was out of the question. Moreover, retaking it without the Count of Darmont wouldn’t look appropriate… this battle was merely supportive. This is what one would call discretion. Though capturing the castle might be easy, if the foreign Lioncourt army were to storm in, the citizens would probably resist, and despite prohibitions, looting would occur. Chaos was inevitable, and we wanted to avoid arousing hatred by accidentally causing a fire. In a city packed with wooden structures, a fire could lead to catastrophic results, potentially resulting in the complete destruction of the town. As a side note, in the newly created frontier settlement of Basin, a large boulevard nearly 10 meters wide was constructed in the center as a precaution against fires. Implementing such urban renovation in the capital of the Lioncourt province is something to consider, but... I've strayed from the subject. In any case, it was prudent to be content with having neutralized Clement's forces and to avoid pursuing them too aggressively. We had seized the supplies of the Clement army — an achievement not to be underestimated. I dispatched a message to our detachment: "We've defeated the Clement army, proceed to capture Darmont Castle," and then I turned to other objectives. Targeting the stronghold of Auger, the core of the Clement faction, seemed strategic. We sent the wounded back to the Poussin Castle rearward and moved toward the enemy castle that would serve as a relay point for the assault on Auger Castle. "...An empty castle, is it?" "Yes, and we've confirmed there's no ambush inside. It seems they set fire to their weapons and provisions." Hearing Poncello's report, I nodded, "As expected." Without hope for reinforcements, it was just an isolated stronghold. If they had any sense, abandoning the castle was their only choice. "Right then... Well, there probably isn't much left, but let's head to the castle. Hopefully, there's something of value for the soldiers." In Lioncourt, looted goods typically go to “the swiftest,” with occasional significant spoils shared with me. I, too, took supplies from the Clement faction — more for resupply as the soldiers will use the provisions and arrows, so the profit is minimal. The real profit comes from selling prisoners, which is the most lucrative. It's from this that rewards are distributed. The rules regarding the distribution of spoils are nebulous, largely dependent on an individual lord's philosophy. Some lords take half of the loot as tax, while others distribute it after taking everything. There's no definitive answer as to what's best, but fortunately, I'm apparently seen as "generous." Being labeled stingy repels soldiers, complicating matters. Parental stinginess among nobility is regarded as a vice. Even if the plunder isn’t significant, it serves to quell soldier discontent, and I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity. The decision to bypass Darmont Castle was influenced by such considerations... making soldiers state-hungry in the presence of bounty without allowing them any will only erupt dissatisfaction. Thus, the Lioncourt army continued its advance, moving westward through enemy bases. Their destination was Auger Castle, the practical headquarters of the Clement faction. Capturing it would ensure the Clement faction withered away. *** Auger Castle was a fortress without urban support. Its earth walls were reinforced with wood and stood at over three meters tall. The moat, though present, was dry and unimpressive. The most notable feature was the defensive towers. Two large defensive towers crafted from sturdy stone stood prominently. “An unusual design. Is it under renovation?” “Maybe they ran out of budget.” Jean's casual remark might actually be spot-on. “It’s a rather awkward height. Should we build ladders?” “Hmm, it’s a bit in-between… Too low for a ladder, but tough to scale carrying spears.” Roger and Pierre were griping, and indeed, the whole castle seemed rather unimpressive. “For now, let’s modify the wagons to create a platform. If we flip the wagons and fix shields on top, they’ll serve as stepping stools.” When I suggested this casually, Poncello replied earnestly, “I see, and by lifting from beneath, the wagons can shield us from enemy arrows and stones.” “You, brother, say something, will you?” “No, I’m just marveled by His Majesty’s resourcefulness. Nothing needs saying.” Jean and Maurice were in high spirits. It’s rare to see such camaraderie between brothers, but the Grot family, where both brothers obtained peerage, is becoming one of the major noble houses in Lioncourt. The Grotes are respected by all. Jean always had a rebellious streak, and our interactions were an extension of our childhood bond, but Maurice is different. He is a reliable butler who always supports me… Though his eyeless, fingerless appearance is terrifying, he’s surprisingly kind. “Resourcefulness or not, it’s an obvious idea… But thank you, Maurice, for your courtesy.” “No, truly. I am continually amazed by His Majesty’s wit.” The earnest Maurice gave me praise, but somehow it felt awkward. Providing a step to overcome high walls seems like common sense, but I couldn’t read any ulterior motive from Maurice’s expression. ...Perhaps I’m thought of as a fool... Maybe so, but I lack the courage to ask in front of everyone. Feeling a swirl of emotions, I ordered the work to commence. The task itself was simple: turning over wagons and securing shields on them won’t take long. Once preparations were complete, the assault could begin. *** The very next day, the assault on the castle commenced swiftly. Soldiers shielded under the inverted wagons advanced towards the walls, rhythmically grunting "Hup! Hup! Hup!" Alongside them, soldiers armed with crossbows and bows provided cover — their mission was to support the attackers. The Lioncourt forces led by Jean attacked from the walls, while Albert’s forces targeted the castle gates. "Just flipping the wagons, and it was ready in no time." "Yes, it's a brilliant idea. Easy to return the wagons to their original state post-battle as well." Rolo’s praise, however, felt similarly disconcerting. This is it, isn’t it? The elusive flattery. “There don’t seem to be many enemy soldiers, do they?” “Well, even if they emptied the nearby castles, I doubt they could gather too many.” From what I saw, there were about 200 to 300 troops. Sporadic arrows and stones weren’t much of a hindrance. Occasionally, an arrow would pierce a wagon and wound a soldier, but that was it. In return, we loosed arrows upon them, overwhelming with sheer volume. However, crossbows with their straight trajectories weren’t as effective for sieges. Curvilinear arrows were more apt — Jean's forces with many archers successfully repelled the enemies. “Jean’s men are formidable… Ah, a catapult!” From atop the defensive tower, stones varied in size rained down upon the front-line troops like a meteor shower. With varied sizes, they scattered like shot bullets, dealing significant damage across our ranks. "Damn it! I knew those towers were suspicious!!" "No worries. The tower only attacks from one side, and the catapults can't fire rapidly. Once we reach the walls, we'll be fine," Rolo calmly reassured me as I ground my teeth in frustration. Yet, stones were raining down on Albert’s troops from the opposite tower. "Hey! They're reaching over there!" "Hmm, it's alright. A few were hit, but that's it." While the scattered stones hadn't caused significant damage, the psychological impact of large siege weapons was considerable. Imagine stones the size of a human head scattered from a height—anyone's courage would waver. …How can he remain so composed? Once again, I'm taken aback by this childhood friend's steel nerves. Typically, even knowing there are no significant casualties can't keep one calm when allies are hit. "Look, the wagons have already reached the castle walls. It's over," said Rolo. "Right, indeed," I agreed. As Rolo had said, scaling the walls was a breeze, and the numerically superior Lioncourt army overwhelmed the enemies in close combat. In the end, the Lioncourt army achieved a decisive victory by capturing the castle in one swift blow. The victorious cheers echoed, celebrating the triumph with a mighty roar. However, though the castle had fallen, our side wasn’t unscathed. In battle, even in a sweeping victory, casualties are inevitable. My brother-in-law, Pierre, was injured and carried to us. Pierre, valiantly leading from the front, was struck by a hurled stone. Fortunately, it wasn't from a catapult but a sling from the castle defenders. Despite that, the rock hit his chest hard, rendering him unconscious… a serious injury. In the hands of an expert, a sling can rival a bow in power. Without chainmail, it could easily have been fatal. I immediately treated Pierre upon his arrival. Thankfully, it seemed he wasn’t in life-threatening condition at the moment. "His sternum is shattered, but he's not coughing up blood, so his internal organs should be okay." Hearing my assessment, the retainers of the House of Punié sighed with relief, but we couldn't let our guard down. In Amoros, where medical knowledge was limited, even a fracture could be fatal. "In any case, don't make him exert himself, transport him on a palanquin with soft padding doubled beneath him. Keep him as comfortable and stable as possible, despite the inevitable pain from the vibrations… but there's no helping that." The sternum is relatively immobile, so I’ve heard it usually doesn’t cause long-term issues, but breaking a bone is still serious. There was no question of letting a horse gallop with him. "I'm worried about his unconscious state, but there's nothing more I can do for now. Notify me immediately if there's a sudden change, as I'll be tending to other soldiers." With that, I moved on to the next casualty. Pierre is still in his mid-twenties. His heir is still a child, and I don’t want him overexerted. The retainers of the House of Punié repeatedly bowed their heads to thank me. The next casualty was a young soldier. Overwhelmed with gratitude, tears welled up in his eyes as he bowed before me, saying, "To be treated by the king…" This young soldier’s right leg had been crushed by a catapult stone. The bone was severely broken, with profuse bleeding… blatantly a severe injury. I first tightly bound the soldier’s thigh to stop the bleeding, examining the crushed leg. I had inadvertently gained a reputation as a ‘doctor’ from treating injuries with each battle. Medical practices in Amoros were often steeped in superstition and, to put it mildly, seemed untrustworthy. Even my improvised treatments were far superior to those of Amoros’ surgeons… although, most of the time, it only resulted in the 'merciful blow.' "This leg is a lost cause. It's crushed beyond repair. It has to be cut off below the knee, but what do you want to do?" When I asked, the soldier looked anxious, asking, "Will I still be able to work the fields with one leg?" "You’ll manage, but there will be limitations." While he frowned at my honesty, he bravely and resolutely answered, "Go ahead." Incidentally, if he had said "don't," it would have been a merciful blow… leaving such decisions to the individual. "Good courage! ...Heat a pan red hot! And give him plenty of liquor for pain relief!" I directed my brotherhood guards to prepare, engaging the young soldier in light-hearted banter to relax him until everything was ready. "I need to support my sister until she marries… I don't want to die." "Don't worry. If the worst happens, I'll take her under my wing… Now, drink more." As we pressed him to drink quickly, the soldier soon grew unmistakably tipsy. He appeared to hold his liquor poorly. "No way! My sister's marrying a respectable farmer, not some guy with sixty mistresses!" Whether it was the booze giving him courage or just drunkenness, just as his bravado rose, I signaled to Rolo with a glance. Rolo swiftly swung an axe, severing the soldier's right leg. A skilled member of the brotherhood immediately pressed the red-hot pan against the wound. With a scream, the young soldier thrashed wildly before I forcefully subdued him until he fainted. "Will he be alright?" "Who knows, it’s fifty-fifty. But thanks for the clean cut." When I thanked him, Rolo humbly accepted, but amputating a limb is challenging. It was masterfully done. “Check his identity. I’d like to look after his sister.” “Number sixty-one, huh?” Rolo and I joked about it and laughed. The talk of numerous mistresses was utterly baseless. Laughter was the best medicine. “What a lot of nonsense. Sumina, Bel, Chiara, and Rona are more than enough for me." "Why's my sister among them!?" Treating casualties can be such serious work… a partner serving up silly banter is appreciated. I tended to the young soldier’s wounds, keeping the conversation light until I moved on. "Rolo, Rona and I are in love… Will you bless our marriage? As friends, I'd like your blessing." "You’re both married already; you’ll make me angry.” As Rolo’s genuine annoyance began to surface, the Rona topic was closed. But why is it that when someone says "I’ll get mad," they're already mad? Afterward, I continued to diligently treat the wounded, even extending aid to Jean and Albert’s forces… though mostly offering merciful blows. *** Three days later. As Auger Castle was nearly dismantled, a messenger from the Count of Darmont arrived. The message contained only, "Darmont Castle secured"... and nothing more. "Quite brusque, isn’t it?" With a wry smile, I ordered the army eastward to return to Darmont Castle. What remained was the rubble of what was once Auger Castle… The walls were filled with holes, and every building dismantled. The defensive towers that had vexed us were meticulously dismantled and discarded into the river out of spite — payback for injuring my precious brother-in-law. Along the way, I exchanged messages with the count several times, verifying the situation on both ends. The detachment led by Count Draene made a bold move by targeting Bizey Castle directly and successfully capturing it before receiving orders to conquer Darmont Castle. It was a daring strategy that aimed straight for the enemy's jugular, but when successful, the impact was tremendous. While it was hard to reconcile such a daring action with the aristocratic demeanor of Count Draene, it should be noted that he was also a seasoned commander. Knight Auger reportedly tried valiantly to regroup his forces and engaged with several hundred soldiers, but the outcome was predictable. Auger died in battle, and Clement surrendered, opening the gates of the castle. ...Such a pitiful end... I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy upon hearing of Knight Auger's fate. Regardless of being a rebel, one cannot truly find peace if the lord they supported meets such an end. "What a foolish mess," I spat in frustration, yet the discomfort didn’t dissipate. The unpleasantness wasn’t in my mouth but settled deep within my chest. "Argh, this is infuriating." "What is?" Rolo, noticing, gently inquired, but I didn’t feel like answering. "Who cares?!" I shouted, taking my frustration out on a wagon with the spear. As the spear's head struck, a cracking sound rang out, and one of the wheels shattered to pieces. "We knights boast because we’re the first to die on the battlefield!! Damn it!" I struck the already half-destroyed wagon again. This time, the sideboards gave way completely, and the wheat inside spilled out with a rustling sound. Thus, the civil unrest within Count of Darmont's domain came to an end. In hindsight, it was nearly a complete victory. Yet, my heart remained unsettled. Moreover, at that moment, I remained oblivious to the significance this expedition, which I had regarded merely as the 'aftermath of the Bachelard campaign,' would have on the world.