Chapter 55: Even Trash Can Be Recycled 6

Several days after Prince Friedrich and his forces had arrived in Bohemia, news reached them that the Imperial army had departed from the capital of Vienna. In response, Count Turen, the thirteen Bohemian nobles, Friedrich, and the Palatinate commanders convened to discuss countermeasures.

“The Emperor’s army has finally set forth.”

“According to reports, they could arrive within a mere ten days’ time.”

“What is their estimated strength?”

“Although an exact figure cannot be ascertained, it is undoubtedly well over twenty thousand strong.”

“Umm… No small number, indeed…”

“While uncertain, it is clear their forces surpass our own.”

As the scouts relayed the latest intelligence, the nobles voiced their concerns with apprehensive expressions.

Observing their trepidation, my father, the overall commander of the Bohemian forces, spoke with a resolute, burning determination.

“It matters not how numerous the enemy. What is important is how we contemplate achieving victory against them.”

“Count Turen speaks wisely. Since war has begun, all that remains is to fight. Rather than fearing the enemy, we must discuss how to respond,” affirmed Count Hohen Georg, one of the thirteen nobles and an accomplished mage, in a steely tone, reviving the deflated atmosphere with his resilience.

“Indeed. This war was inevitable from the moment we rose up for our cause.”

“No matter their numbers, this is our land. If we are willing to lay down our lives, victory shall be ours.”

“After all, is this not a holy war waged to uphold the true will of God against the tyranny of the Church? The Lord shall surely bless our efforts.”

As the high-ranking nobles’ impassioned declarations rekindled the fervent atmosphere, Anhalt, seated beside Prince Friedrich, seemed to sense an opportune moment and spoke in a bright tone.

“Indeed, you speak truly. As I have mentioned before, this is a righteous war fought against evil, a holy crusade guided by divine will. If we unite our forces steadfastly, there is no reason for defeat. And in this regard… I believe we must address a crucial matter to ensure our victory.”

Capitalizing on the heightened mood, Anhalt voiced his opinion.

While I instinctively furrowed my brow at his display, the nobles, unaware of his impending words, focused their attention on the mention of ‘victory’.

Surveying the assembled lords, Anhalt continued in a fluid, natural manner.

“There is an old adage: ‘Too many cooks spoil the broth.’ An organization with two heads cannot function properly, nor can an army with two commanders achieve victory.”

Seamlessly segueing into his true intent, as though justifying his alliances with neighboring heretical nations, Anhalt pressed on.

However, fully cognizant of where his words led and their inevitable outcome, I could only find his manner utterly grating.

And, as expected, Anhalt’s next words aligned precisely with my anticipations.

“In that regard… Before delving into tactical discussions, I believe we must first determine who shall serve as the supreme commander of our allied forces here and now.”

“The supreme commander… you say?”

“Umm… It is certainly a valid point…”

Despite Anhalt’s self-assuredness, some nobles betrayed discomfort, yet acknowledged the merit of his suggestion.

In a dire war, having a supreme commander to make final decisions was indeed necessary.

And regarding this, Count Hohen stated matter-of-factly:

“When it comes to a supreme commander, is it not only appropriate for Count Turen, the Lord of Bohemia and our current military leader, to assume that role?”

“I concur. Since we have already entrusted our forces to Count Turen, it is only fitting that he serves as the supreme commander.”

As the current commander with extensive combat experience as a mage, and the ruling lord of these lands, it was indeed principled for Count Turen to lead as supreme commander.

However, Anhalt addressed them in a measured tone.

“While the situation may seem to dictate as much, as I have mentioned, our forces are currently outmatched by the Emperor’s. In such times, I believe we must seek greater support from foreign allies.”

His words were accompanied by a cursory glance around the room.

He then addressed Count Turen with a hint of deference.

“And regrettably, in this regard, I do not believe it would be advisable for Count Turen to serve as supreme commander.”

“Lord Anhalt, what insolence is this!”

“What connection is there between foreign support and the appointment of a supreme commander, that you should make such a claim?”

As Anhalt began laying the groundwork by invoking external justifications, I could only observe as he made eye contact with the nobles he had likely primed in advance, before addressing Count Turen’s supporters, who regarded him with skepticism.

“Ah. Do not misunderstand me. I do not imply any lack of ability on Count Turen’s part. Rather, I believe we must clearly define this war not as a mere conflict between Bohemia and the Emperor, but as a struggle between our heretical alliance, representing the divine will, and the corrupt Church.”

“Umm…”

“Surely you cannot mean…?”

Some nobles seemed to sense an underlying implication in Anhalt’s words.

Maintaining his smile, he continued.

“Indeed. If we wage this war under Count Turen’s name, it risks being interpreted as a mere internal insurrection within the Imperium. However, if we fight under the banner of His Highness Prince Friedrich, the leader of the heretical alliance and an Imperial Prince-Elector, the situation changes drastically.”

Certainly, the weight and perception differed between an army led by Turen, a mere provincial lord, and one commanded by a Prince-Elector – Friedrich, the son-in-law of the British Kingdom and the head of the heretical alliance.

The latter would represent not a localized rebellion, but the united heretical forces of the continent, potentially justifying foreign rulers’ active involvement.

‘Admittedly, on paper, it does seem more advantageous. The issue, however, lies in the fact that it is merely a convincing facade…’

With this thought, I quietly observed as Anhalt wielded his silver tongue to sway the nobles.

He claimed that Friedrich’s leadership would compel the British King to send reinforcements and that, should any issues arise, the northern Kalmar Union would not remain idle.

In essence, Anhalt asserted that the mere act of changing the supreme commander would yield boundless benefits, gradually swaying the nobles’ allegiances.

And… as I witnessed this display, I slowly turned to my father, Count Turen, who sat beside me, observing the same scene, and remarked:

“What do you think? Was I not correct in my assessment?”

“Umm… Indeed, it unfolds precisely as you described.”

My father’s voice carried a tone of admiration towards Anhalt’s actions unfolding before us.

However, at that moment, I clearly recognized that Count Turen’s awe was not directed at the diligently pontificating Anhalt, but rather at his son seated beside him.