A few days later, in one of the tents deployed in the northern sector of the Elsren Holy Empire’s invading army.
Inside, a map was spread out, and about twenty men were seated around it.
“Moved, you say?”
“Yes, to the east…”
At his subordinate’s report, the blond-haired man seated in the place of honor frowned.
Areha Claussela Schwindel Salschenka.
He was one of the Empire’s generals, a man of such talent that he had risen to the rank of general at a young age without relying on his family’s power.
Born as the third son of a great noble family, he had no future in inheriting the house.
Inevitably entering the military, he achieved countless victories on the battlefield through his own merit and had the honor of being personally conferred by the Emperor with the title of Schwindel—’Holy Knight’—a title unique to his generation.
‘Holy Knight’ was an honorable peerage praising military valor, and for a soldier, it was a coveted title, the greatest of honors.
Areha, who had obtained it in his mid-thirties, had solidified his fame as a young general of the Empire and was achieving great results in the current invasion as well.
His path had been one of smooth sailing, with nothing to obstruct him—yet, on his well-featured face, a wrinkle had formed between his brows, as if pondering the meaning of the incomprehensible report from his subordinate.
“…Why now?”
Areha, who had served as the spearhead for the eastern invasion, could be said to have achieved sufficient results this time.
By slaying the Kingdom’s General Carmeda, he had laid the groundwork for the capture of the impregnable fortress city of Ulphenite, performing deeds worthy of his ‘Holy Knight’ title in this war.
However, accumulating too many achievements also invited jealousy from others.
Aristocratic society was a treacherous world.
He knew many envied him, and monopolizing merits would bring misfortune rather than benefit him in the subsequent aristocratic society.
Therefore, Areha had entrusted the capture of the important stronghold Ulphenite to others, withdrawn from the southern conquest, and voluntarily taken on the thankless post of merely pinning down enemy forces.
Of course, that wasn’t all; he also harbored certain feelings towards the enemy.
—Bohgan Algarrite Vezrinea Chrishtand.
A renowned general of the Alveran Kingdom, deployed to the north.
Before Areha became a general, Chrishtand had made him suffer bitter defeats numerous times.
His offensives were, in a word, ferocious.
He would crush their vulnerabilities in one fell swoop, then swing around from the collapsed section to inflict devastating damage.
If they attacked, he would receive it flexibly, only to return a counterattack stronger than their own assault.
None could fully withstand those attacks, as fierce and swift as lightning itself, and he boasted an undefeated record, at least in battles with numerically equal forces.
Areha, whose talents had already begun to blossom back then, had shattered Chrishtand’s defenses many times.
However, his own vulnerable points were always breached before he could assault the enemy’s main camp, forcing him into retreat against Chrishtand’s army, even while consistently achieving localized victories.
When one spoke of Chrishtand, everyone tended to focus solely on their ferocious offensives, but their true excellence lay, above all, in their withdrawal tactics.
For sectors where they found themselves at a disadvantage, they would preemptively incorporate phased withdrawals into their strategy, maneuvering to blunt the enemy’s charge, buy time for a counterattack, and invariably inflict a fatal blow.
Areha had pored over records and studied Chrishtand more than anyone.
It could be said that Areha had come this far by learning Chrishtand’s many tactics.
Bohgan Chrishtand, a renowned general who had risen from a minor noble house solely on his own merit.
Those brilliant achievements resonated with Areha, who, as a third son unable to inherit his house, had been sent into the army; Chrishtand was an existence he viewed as an enemy, yet at the same time, secretly admired.
Areha even thought that if they had been born in the same country, he would likely have become a devoted follower of Bohgan.
And now, for the first time, he was facing such an opponent as a fellow general.
He had intentionally created a stalemate, engaging in skirmishes but avoiding a decisive battle, pinning down the enemy’s forces.
Although this role was somewhat dissatisfying for Areha, who wished to gain victory over Chrishtand, he also believed that no one else could confront Bohgan and contain his power.
Precisely because he had studied Chrishtand more than anyone, he could understand what Chrishtand was thinking.
Areha, who had stabilized the stalemate and was satisfied that he had read Bohgan’s intentions completely, could not hide his bewilderment at Bohgan suddenly making a move now.
The enemy had shifted their main camp significantly to the east.
Towards the eastern mountains—he pondered what they could be plotting with such a bold move.
Even if Bohgan moved most of his forces east, breaking through the Sea of Trees to the north was impossible.
It would require an enormous number of troops, and their supply lines would be overextended.
Furthermore, combat in the forest was unfamiliar to the soldiers of the Holy Empire, whose homeland was mostly vast grasslands. It would also severely diminish the capabilities of the Imperial Army, whose strength lay in its powerful cavalry, hailing from numerous fine horse-breeding regions and having subjugated nomadic tribes.
No matter how they maneuvered, unless they captured the enemy’s main camp first, they couldn’t avoid being struck in the flank and rear, and would find themselves in a dire predicament.
He reached this conclusion considering the forces at his disposal.
And naturally, the enemy must have made this bold move anticipating that.
They had seen through his intention to create a stalemate and were convinced that the Empire was not aiming to break through in the north.
In both tactics and strategy, there is such a thing as a ‘flow.’
To change an established flow and atmosphere requires immense effort.
The current invading army had already decided to advance southward.
It was impossible to change that now, and because of that, Areha was forced to respond within the given conditions.
“What is their aim… Whatever it is, we must also move. Shift the camp east.”
If left alone, Chrishtand would be in an easy position to target the Empire’s rear communication lines.
Whatever the reason, the enemy was a large force of twenty thousand.
They had no choice but to move in concert.
“…No, so that’s it.”
Areha smiled.
Reading the terrain from the pieces on the board, he quickly understood the intention.
An odd action—a move uncharacteristic of Bohgan.
“It’s likely a coordinated move with the inept enemy central command. They’re trying to dam the river.”
This wasn’t a tactic devised by Bohgan.
From the Chrishtand army’s movements, Areha discerned a much larger, coordinated strategy.
The enemy’s central command was in disarray due to a succession dispute and had remained passive even when faced with this crisis.
Most likely, swayed by opinions urging a swift capture of Ulphenite as a forceful measure, the Kingdom’s Central Command had planned the Ulphenite offensive.
As a result, Bohgan in the north had been ordered to provide support by damming the river.
“It’s probably to dry up Ulphenite’s moats, but I can’t imagine this is the renowned Chrishtand’s command.”
Damming a river is exceedingly difficult.
The location for damming would become another major strategic objective separate from the main camp, inevitably forcing them to divide their forces.
For an enemy army inferior in strength to attempt this against them, who had a completely free hand, was reckless.
“…I see, then.”
“Yes, this is our chance. Our objective was to create a stalemate, but if we can crush Chrishtand’s army here, we will gain a significant advantage. …For such a renowned general to be saddled with such an incompetent country, one can’t help but feel a twinge of pity.”
The dissatisfaction he felt with creating a stalemate.
The humiliation he had suffered at Bohgan’s hands, and the respect that had grown in proportion to it.
All these various emotions brought Areha joy and resolve.
“We will deploy the army to the east. First, we’ll undo the damming and thwart the enemy’s plan. Fighting across the river will likely result in heavy casualties for us, but consider it a promise of even greater honor. The Empire has been made to suffer at Chrishtand’s hands time and time again.”
At Areha’s words, the men clenched their fists and smiled.
Until now, Areha had defeated many formidable enemies with his brilliant command.
And this time, he was demonstrating his dazzling, lightning-fast invasion and skill in expanding their gains.
His subordinates, who had believed that Areha himself should have been the one to lead the main offensive to the south, were also filled with joy at this unexpected turn of events.
The popularity he had garnered, the credit and trust he had accumulated, made Areha appear to be an outstanding figure as a general.
If we follow him, we will succeed—with such thoughts, bordering on fervent devotion, no anxiety clouded their minds.
“Hah!”
Therefore, no one harbored any apprehension about having so easily relinquished the initiative.
And so, they were about to step onto a battlefield from which there would be no return.
—Information is delayed.
Those who conduct reconnaissance, those who act as agents to probe the enemy’s internal affairs.
All are human, and even if they ride their horses hard, if there is distance, time is consumed.
And if information is delayed, naturally, actions are also delayed.
By the time the Elsren Holy Empire’s army arrived at the front, the battlefield had already transformed into a muddy quagmire.
Water overflowing from the southern Bezelen River streamed across the land. The clay-rich soil, now saturated, submerged the feet of armor-clad soldiers up to their ankles, sapping their strength and breeding discomfort.
Aleha found it difficult to judge whether this was mere coincidence or not.
No, deep in his heart, a flicker of unease suggested the enemy might have lured them to this very spot.
However, regardless of the circumstances, the enemy’s damming operation had to be stopped, and to do so, they had to set foot on this treacherous ground.
A supporting attack for the conquest of Wolfeneight.
Perceiving it as such, Aleha had no choice but to make that decision.
It was precisely because he knew Bohgan Chrishtand better than anyone that Aleha interpreted this sudden, bizarre maneuver as an order originating from the Kingdom’s central command.
Their own forces held the numerical advantage.
Furthermore, having torn off a large swathe of territory in a lightning invasion, the Kingdom, now in the throes of chaos, was in a dire predicament.
If, in this situation, Chrishtand were to suffer defeat in a pitched battle, the Kingdom would undoubtedly face not just a dire predicament, but utter ruin.
Any competent general would understand the crushing weight of such responsibility all too well.
He couldn’t believe that such an opponent would choose this place as a battlefield to seize the initiative and deliver a devastating blow.
And above all, Aleha knew Bohgan Chrishtand to be a man more cautious than any other.
At the very least, Aleha was no foolish general.
He was undoubtedly talented, and with accumulated experience and years, he would likely become a renowned commander whose name would be etched in history.
However, at this time, he was still young and had not yet learned to reflect upon his own decisions.
Perhaps that was the turning point.
Even with the river dammed, Wolfeneight was a formidable fortress.
Even if Chrishtand’s movements were exactly as Aleha imagined, Wolfeneight could have held out more than sufficiently.
Aleha should have recognized the folly of advancing here; he should have retreated and maintained his defensive line.
But he was young and sought perfection too keenly.
Aleha set up his encampment on the opposite side of the now waterless river.
He would not initiate combat.
The river in this area was shallow and wide, its bed primarily gravel; even with a current, a breakthrough would have been possible.
But if he committed a large number of troops in the current conditions, the enemy could release the dam, and the resulting temporary torrent of muddy water could cause significant losses.
A careless attack was dangerous.
Furthermore, the muddy footing was causing great fatigue among the soldiers.
Wagons frequently became mired, forcing them to divert even cavalry horses to extricate them, significantly straining their resources and preventing an immediate assault.
“…What is that?”
However, at this juncture, a new cause for Aleha’s impatience emerged.
It was a crude fort being erected before the river, on the western side where the enemy’s right flank was positioned.
It was a crude structure, more akin to a watchtower than a fort, and could not be called impressive, even being generous.
Yet, its very existence was undeniably a threat.
Where did they get so much material in such a short time? Thinking this, Aleha immediately looked towards the river.
Most likely, before damming the river, they had floated trees cut from the mountains downstream and used those as materials.
I see, he thought, glaring at the fort.
They must have prioritized merely giving it form.
The roof was nothing more than a layer of packed branches.
The palisade was a gappy affair, constructed of logs driven into the ground and connected at regular intervals.
But even so, the branch-covered roof was sufficient to deaden the force of arrows, and the palisade could buy time against a charge and halt cavalry.
If it were to become more well-structured, it would pose a major threat.
It was being built in the most suitable location for a river crossing in the entire vicinity.
He could see that further west, the river narrowed, deepened, and its current grew swifter.
In short, it was tantamount to having the left edge of the battlefield sealed off.
A flanking maneuver from the left wing would be difficult.
Faced with the enemy’s unexpectedly well-thought-out preparations, Aleha felt his unease growing stronger.