Ch.224Rotaring Punishment War (4)

“How delightful to see you cowering across the river! Truly befitting of vile men who serve a bastard king who has abandoned righteousness!”

“That son of a…”

“Restrain yourself, it’s a shallow trick to make us cross the river.”

“…I know.”

Two armies face each other across the river.

With the river being about 100 meters wide and correspondingly deep, neither army dares to approach it carelessly. There’s nothing to gain by getting closer, and the moderate distance leaves them vulnerable to enemy attacks.

“It seems your numbers are rather few. Are the rest hiding like rats, secretly crossing the river?! How insidiously fitting for those who serve a demented patient who started a war through suicide!”

“That bastard…!”

The Grand General leading the Imperial Alliance forces and Simon commanding the Lotaring forces engage in verbal combat. Not because they dislike fighting, but to distract the opponent.

From the Empire’s perspective, they need to keep Lotaring’s main force occupied until their own troops can completely bypass the river and establish a bridgehead. From Lotaring’s perspective, they need to stall for time while luring the Imperial forces to bypass the river through the forest where they’ve prepared firewood.

“Though adopted, you dare serve a bastard who married his sister who shared the same mother’s milk!”

“What?! Aren’t you serving a whoreson who assassinated his father, blinded by desire for the throne?!”

“Y-you…! Only you Lotaring scum would spread such nonsense!”

“What nonsense? Even the Holy Emperor acknowledged this fact!”

“Aren’t you holding His Holiness captive?! Forcing him to lie under pressure—you’ll never rest peacefully even in death! And you don’t deny serving a bastard who married his sister? I understand your position well! I suppose even as we wage war, we’re all human with similar moral standards.”

“How dare you spout such nonsense!”

But things begin to take an unexpected turn.

The two generals, whose loyalty to their lords is unquestionable, become increasingly enraged by the other’s blatant insults toward their masters.

For modern people, such insults might cause a grimace or bad mood without inspiring murderous intent, but for medieval people, it’s different.

Literally, an insult could physically endanger one’s life, and because insults are uncommon in daily life, people lack tolerance for them.

Using vulgar language not only diminishes a nobleman’s dignity but could cost him his life when the insulted party charges to restore honor. In such an environment, insults naturally become rare.

“Your Excellency, Your Excellency!!”

“Please restrain yourself, I beg you!”

As the two grand generals flush crimson with rage, looking ready to cross the river, their adjutants desperately hold them back.

Of course, even this is part of the generals’ strategic performance, but their anger at the insults to their lords is genuine, making their act so convincing that neither can tell the other is acting. Even their adjutants are fooled.

……….

“…There’s really no one here.”

Meanwhile, the heir to the Meissen Electorate leads an Imperial detachment marching through the forest to bypass the river.

Concerned about possible ambushes, they sent scouts dozens of times before entering, but all returned reporting safety.

Still, unable to believe such a strategically important bypass would be left undefended, they enter the forest with utmost caution and vigilance, only to find it truly empty.

The only movement comes from grass and branches swaying in the wind and birds—nothing else stirs.

“Yes, there appears to be no ambush. What are your orders?”

“If there truly is no ambush, we should quickly break through this difficult forest and establish a position so our forces can safely bypass the river. But since there are no absolutes in real combat, we must consider all possibilities. So we’ll advance slowly, cautious of ambushes.”

“Then I’ll continue sending scouts to survey the surroundings.”

“Good.”

The Imperial detachment of about 20,000 men slowly advances through the forest.

Though unusually large for a detachment, this number was necessary to prevent Lotaring forces from escaping if the Imperial army successfully bypassed the river. At least 20,000 men were needed for the operation to succeed.

Had they ignored the possibility of ambush and forced a march through the forest, all 30,000 wouldn’t have entered, but the heir’s cautious approach wasn’t wrong either, so the impending disaster can’t be blamed entirely on him.

“…Light the fires.”

“Yes!!”

The Lotaring forces, watching from afar using telescopes made by Claude, confirm that the Imperial forces have fully entered the forest and execute their plan.

A makeshift rocket soars high, cutting the sky in half with a whistling sound, signaling the Lotaring soldiers buried in hiding to ignite their designated points.

If multiple soldiers had been hiding, the Imperial scouts would certainly have found them, but with just one man at each point, unarmed and buried almost completely in the ground covered with fallen leaves, detection was nearly impossible.

“What is that?! Is it some kind of weapon—”

Whoosh—

“—Ugh?!”

Despite the cloudy, humid weather, dry leaves are still dry leaves, and with added oil to reinforce the typically weak initial power of forest fires, the flames spread uncontrollably fast. Less than a minute after the rocket split the sky, the fire became visible even to the heir at the center of the Imperial forces.

Only then did the Imperial army realize they had fallen into a trap, but it was already too late.

The flames were too thick to force through even at the cost of burns. Even if their bodies didn’t burn, their lungs would fill with hot carbon dioxide, cooking their organs from the inside.

“Y-Your Highness!!”

“…Don’t just stand there! Find a way through!”

“A way through… a way…”

“…Damn it.”

It didn’t take long for the escape routes to be engulfed in flames.

A seamless ring of fire surrounded the forest, and this ring moved relentlessly inward toward the Imperial forces to consume the unburned areas.

Whoosh—

“Haha… burning us alive—even your method of killing is truly demonic.”

“Your Highness…”

The heir leading the Imperial detachment sees the approaching flames as resembling hell.

And perhaps it’s not so different.

Isn’t hell a place where sinners are punished through suffering?

The Meissen heir considers himself a sinner for his misjudgment that led Imperial soldiers to their deaths, and believes being burned alive is a fitting punishment for such a grave sin.

“Dirt! Throw soil and sand on the flames!!”

“It’s no use, the fire is too strong!!”

“Back, move further back!! It’s hot!! So hot!!”

“There’s no space left for me either!!”

“Can’t… breathe…!”

“Ah, ahhh…”

Yet another trial awaits the resigned heir.

The soldiers who had trusted and followed him until moments ago are now burning alive.

The heir, who had calmly accepted his death, feels as if struck by a hammer as he witnesses this scene with his eyes and ears.

“This… this can’t be…”

Looking at the soldiers dying in panic and flames, the heir falls into endless despair.

Oh God, if you must punish someone, punish only me. Why treat so cruelly these righteous men who rose up to punish an evil king?

I can endure terrible pain, but please show mercy—

Drip—

“…Huh?”

Something cold strikes the forehead of the heir, who had been lost in thought to the point of deafness. With a shiver running down his spine, he looks up at the sky as if snapped by a rubber band.

It’s extremely cloudy.

It has been cloudy for days, but this is especially so. The sunlight has completely disappeared without a trace, and the clouds are a deep gray like compacted dust.

Drip— Pitter-patter—

“…Huh?”

“This, this is…”

Finally, not just the heir but ordinary Imperial soldiers notice the change in the sky.

The soldiers who had been frantically pushing toward the center of the army to survive even a moment longer now all stand in identical poses, looking up at the sky with open mouths.

If an artist had witnessed this scene, they might have used it as reference material for depicting people experiencing a miracle from a prophet.

“…Rain.”

……….

“…Heh.”

Those bastards, who had given up on life and sat down in resignation just moments ago, suddenly regained their spirit as if nothing had happened.

Though the rain isn’t heavy yet and men are still dying in the flames, the belief that the fire will eventually be extinguished by the rain has completely restored their morale.

“How long will this rain last? Is it just a shower? No, I don’t need to know that.”

Shing—

The officer draws his sword and points it at the forest where the Imperial forces are, and seeing this, the Lotaring forces immediately prepare for battle.

“Before the fire is completely extinguished, charge into the forest—”

Though the rain prevents the use of gunpowder weapons and has disrupted the plan to annihilate the enemy with fire, it doesn’t matter much.

Even with fewer numbers, if it’s raining and they’re facing opponents who were nearly cooked alive just moments ago, the superior individual skill of the Lotaring forces guarantees victory.

After all, the reason the Kingdom of Lotaring, and before that the Duchy of Burgon, was feared for its powerful army had nothing to do with gunpowder weapons.

“—Surround and annihilate them before they regain their senses.”