Chapter 51: Even Trash Can Be Recycled 2

Upon entering the tent, my father addressed me with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Well, Santana? What are your impressions of Bohemia’s military might? Formidable, is it not?”

“Yes, Father. It is indeed formidable. It is my first time witnessing such a vast army.”

Since my words were not untrue, I expressed my awe without reservation, eliciting an excited response from my father.

“Indeed, there are likely few across the entire continent who can muster forces of this magnitude. And soon, Prince-Elector Friedrich will arrive with an additional seven thousand troops. With such strength, even the Emperor himself will not be able to defeat us easily.”

Count Turen spoke with unwavering confidence.

Certainly, an army of twenty thousand was a considerable force, even by continental standards, lending some credence to his self-assurance.

However, considering the inevitable outcome should I refrain from intervening, my father’s boastfulness seemed utterly futile to me.

‘Well, Father remains unaware of the Emperor’s true military strength, unlike me, who knows the enemy’s force composition, tactics, and the overall course of the war…’

While the respective forces of twenty thousand and twenty-five thousand seemed comparable in scale, the true issues lay in the qualitative disparity between the troops and, crucially, the tactical disadvantages we faced.

‘Had events unfolded according to Father’s original strategy, the defeat might not have been so catastrophic… The real problem lies with those who will soon arrive…’

More vexing than General Tilly, the one leading the army marching upon us.

Or rather, while Tilly, though an enemy, could at least be respected as a capable commander, the same could not be said of the others – a fact that made them utterly intolerable.

‘In that sense, those individuals could be considered the true obstacle in this war…’

As I unconsciously furrowed my brow at the thought…

“My Lord! They have arrived!”

“Ah, at last!”

The joyous voices from outside the tent prompted Count Turen to swiftly depart, a smile upon his lips. Despite my sincere reluctance, I followed behind him.

Historically a region of formidable power along the Rhine River, the Prince-Elector state of the Palatinate lay to the west of the Holy Imperium.

Its current ruler, Prince-Elector Friedrich, had taken a princess of the mighty British Kingdom across the sea as his wife.

This fair-haired, well-built young lord, bearing an undeniable air of timidity despite his handsome features and befitting attire, had just arrived near the Bohemian castle with a force of seven thousand.

Surveying the beautiful Bohemian landscape before him, Friedrich’s demeanor belied his youthful appearance with a hint of stiffness.

Observing the young ruler, a middle-aged man riding alongside him spoke with a relaxed smile.

“There is no need for such tension, Your Highness. Be at ease. Have I not accompanied you on this journey?”

The man, Lord Anhalt Christian, the Chancellor of the Palatinate, addressed Friedrich with a paternal tone.

The young prince replied with a hint of meekness.

“…Umm… Ah… Yes, Lord Anhalt. With you by my side, what cause have I for concern?”

“Indeed, Your Highness. Place your trust in me and be steadfast. As I have repeatedly assured you, our plans are flawless. Soon, not only will we seize Bohemia, but the entire Holy Imperium shall kneel before you.”

Anhalt spoke with unshakable confidence, his words carrying an ominous undertone.

Upon hearing them, Friedrich merely nodded before cautiously urging his steed forward, followed by Anhalt and the soldiers.

Devoid of mages, this force consisted predominantly of ordinary humans.

Yet, seven thousand was by no means an insignificant number, lending an imposing presence to their military might.

Maintaining an air of dignity, Friedrich advanced towards the Bohemian forces’ formation, now coming into view.

His gaze then fell upon a group of individuals, led by a middle-aged man and a youth around his age, who had come to receive them. Friedrich turned to Anhalt beside him.

“That must be Count Turen, the Lord of Bohemia. But I do not recognize the one beside him.”

“Likely his son… They do seem to resemble each other…”

Friedrich’s uncertain tone prompted Anhalt to respond with a hint of discomfort.

“Well… From what I’ve heard, Count Turen has no sons… If my memory serves, he only has daughters…”

“We shall learn the details once we meet them.”

With those words, Friedrich cautiously dismounted, followed by Anhalt.

The fair-haired, well-featured yet unmistakably timid nobleman before me.

And the red-haired, somewhat sinister-looking middle-aged man trailing behind him.

I immediately recognized their identities.

‘The ones from the Palatinate, I presume… How disappointing that they conform to such clichéd imagery…’

With this thought, I politely inclined my head in response to my father’s respectful greeting towards them.

Regardless of my personal misgivings, the man before me – Friedrich – held the rank of Prince-Elector, superior to my father’s status as a Count.

In other words, with Imperial blood flowing through his veins and the potential to ascend as the next Emperor, propriety dictated that I acknowledge him accordingly.

“Welcome, Prince-Elector Friedrich. You have endured great hardship in traveling such a vast distance.”

“Not at all, the hardship is negligible when undertaken for the noble cause of heresy and liberty. Rather, I am grateful for your warm reception.”

Friedrich responded with an awkward, scripted tone as he received my father’s greeting.

Maintaining his smile, my father then gestured towards me.

“Now, my son, this is His Highness Prince-Elector Friedrich. He has journeyed from the distant Palatinate to aid us. Show him due respect.”

“Yes, Father.”

Heeding his words, I took a step forward to formally greet Friedrich.

However, for a fleeting moment, my gaze shifted from him to Chancellor Anhalt at his side.

Introduced as Count Turen’s son, the discomfort on Anhalt’s face was apparent from our very first encounter.

Aware of the reason behind his expression, I could not help but feel a sense of petty satisfaction as I courteously addressed Friedrich.

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Santana Andreas, the legitimate heir of Count Turen and Bohemia, here to greet Your Highness, the Prince-Elector of the Palatinate.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Santana Andreas. You appear to be around my age. Let us cultivate a good rapport in the days ahead.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I shall endeavor to do so.”

Friedrich’s response was more natural than his earlier demeanor, now that we had established ourselves as peers.

In contrast, my emphasis on being the ‘legitimate heir’ seemed to sour Chancellor Anhalt’s expression, his face contorting as if he had bitten into something unpleasant.

And as I observed his reaction, a faint smile formed upon my own lips.

‘Very well… Let us proceed to reshape history, shall we?’