Chapter 99: The Mercenary King and the Madwoman 6

“Guhh!”

Collapsing to the ground with a wretched scream, Maxim’s ears were assailed by the clamor of battle raging around her – yet such trivialities hardly registered in that moment.

“You truly suffered a most fitting fate. Somehow, your far too willing disclosures made me suspect a church archbishop’s true colors.”

“Kuhuck! Wh…What non…sense…You grossly misun…derstand…”

Spitting out pained coughs laced with confusion, Maxim could only elicit Christiane’s derisive scoff in response.

“Protesting your innocence in this situation is utterly futile… I have neither the patience nor inclination to entertain your lies any further. No doubt you intended to betray us to the Imperial forces, earning accolades. But alas, any glory awaiting your return shall never be realized.”

“W…Wait…I…It wasn’t like tha…”

“Take her away! Sever a finger at the first hint of resistance!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“It wasn’t…like that! I’m no Imperial spy! This is all a dreadful misunder…Guhh!”

Despite Maxim’s frantic, pleading protests, Christiane paid her no heed – signaling her soldiers to begin their withdrawal while forcibly dragging the archbishop along.

‘Circumstances being what they are, I have no choice… Originally, I had intended to inflict further plundering before proceeding. But we no longer have that luxury…’

The battle between the Imperial armies and Mansfelt’s mercenary band at Münster had once again upended the balance of power within the Holy Empire.

Mansfelt and Christiane, who had steadily amassed formidable strength reaching 27,000 men, lost over half their forces in this decisive clash.

Their remaining troops numbered a mere 12,000.

Though their mage corps of around 1,000 remained largely intact, they had undoubtedly suffered a near-crippling defeat.

Despite Christiane’s delaying efforts to secure as many supplies and spoils as possible during their retreat, the loss of their military might condemned them to a prolonged period as mere fugitives – no longer capable of defying the Imperial armies.

Thus, they hastily withdrew northward as the Imperials swiftly regained control over the smaller domains wavering in their allegiance nearby.

And so concluded the so-called ‘Reclamation of the Palatinate’ – more aptly described as the ‘Palatinate Pillaging’ – with Mansfelt and Christiane’s resounding defeat.

Yet theirs was not a mere setback for marauding mercenaries run amok.

Though their recent conduct was indeed that of common bandits, Mansfelt and Christiane had ostensibly flown the heretical banners.

Their downfall, therefore, represented another victory for the Imperial and Church forces over the heretical factions.

Particularly for General Tilly, this represented a triumphant reversal of his prior defeat in Bohemia – restoring the Emperor’s wavering authority in the aftermath and rejuvenating morale.

With Spinola and Tilly’s armies swiftly compelling the nearby lords’ submission, those previously ambivalent were forced to decisively renounce the heretical cause, relenting to Church dominance once more.

Thus, the Emperor reasserted sovereignty over nearly three-quarters of the Empire’s domains outside Bohemia and the Heretical Alliance’s core territories.

Having successfully reimposed the Church’s banner across the Imperial heartlands…

The Emperor remained unwilling to conclude the war at this juncture.

Bohemia and the remaining quarter under heretical control still defied his authority. And the menace of Mansfelt, whose insolence had so vexed him, yet lived.

To decisively address these lingering threats while restoring domestic order and replenishing depleted coffers, the Emperor enacted a new policy.

One which would come to be known as…

-Sssssip-

Slowly sipping the steaming tea before me, I perused the latest reports.

Mansfelt’s decisive defeat had unfolded according to plan.

Followed by Spinola and Tilly’s advance, compelling the remaining imperial lords’ submission…

As I carefully reviewed these documented events, Polena voiced a lingering concern:

“Are you certain this is wise, my lord? While I have followed your instructions relaying our maneuverings, such a disastrous outcome was…”

“Yes, of course. I consider this an ideal development.”

“I…beg your pardon?”

Without a hint of hesitation, I affirmed my stance – prompting visible surprise upon Polena’s features before she inquired further:

“Truthfully, I had anticipated Mansfelt’s downfall would prove detrimental to our cause. Was not our intent for them to persist, vexing the Empire?”

“Certainly, we have benefited considerably from their transgressions. However…”

Setting down my emptied teacup, I met Polena’s captivated gaze as her eyes seemed to glimmer with realization, continuing:

“No matter their reprehensible methods, to those coveting the Empire’s domains, Mansfelt would inevitably appear a valuable asset to be exploited. Were such entities to approach him, it could jeopardize our position. I have merely curtailed his rising influence accordingly.”

“I see… Truly remarkable foresight, my lord. I had not anticipated you accounted for such eventualities.”

“Haha, you flatter me overmuch.”

Polena’s bright, admiring smile elicited a faint blush as she heaped undue praise.

‘Of course, my ability to foresee such developments stems from my prior knowledge of the original story…’

Graciously accepting her commendation, I issued Polena further instructions.

Then, rising from my seat, I gazed out the window in pensive contemplation.

‘With this, the war will inevitably escalate beyond the Empire’s borders. And once that transpires… will he finally make his appearance?’

The entity who should have occupied this position at this juncture in the original narrative.

The ultimate ‘enemy’ – having usurped control in Bohemia after ousting Count Turen and the Andreas lineage.

As I pondered the looming circumstances foreshadowing his emergence in the source material, a dark pall descended over my features.

‘No matter how I tried to preemptively uproot him, he eluded my grasp by fleeing ahead of time. Under these conditions… confrontation is inevitable.’

Resigned to this unavoidable clash with the threat I had allowed to slip through my fingers, my thoughts simultaneously turned to another figure – one whose mere recollection stirred profound longing and anxiety:

‘Speaking of which…when will Cazeros return? There has been no word, no matter how long I wait. Perhaps I should directly seek her out while I still have this temporary respite?’