Chapter 59: Overture of War 3

At Bilá Hora, where the Bohemian and Palatinate forces were encamped, the atmosphere was abuzz with activity in anticipation of the imminent conflict. Soldiers could be seen training or resting throughout the area.

At this moment, I was leading a contingent of soldiers assigned by my father, accompanied by Cazeros, who had taken it upon herself to join me.

“Will this suffice?”

“Yes, please erect one more over there.”

“Understood.”

Upon my instruction, a group of around ten soldiers began unloading massive iron pillars, each approximately seven meters long, from a cart. At the top of each pillar was affixed a gemstone emitting a reddish glow.

Called ‘illumination stones’, these were artificial materials created by infusing them with a modicum of mana. When exposed to sufficient moisture, they would emit a bright light in their carved shape – essentially functioning as conditional lanterns, commonly used to illuminate the damp, subterranean environments of mines.

Employing these illumination stone-tipped pillars, I directed the soldiers to erect them across the plain before Bilá Hora, marking their positions on a map I held.

Observing this unusual endeavor, Cazeros regarded me with a furrowed brow, tinged with puzzlement.

“Pardon me, Santana…”

“Yes?”

“If I may be so bold, might you enlighten me as to the purpose behind these actions?”

“Umm… Well, you see…”

While the act of erecting pillars itself was perplexing enough, the decision to cap them with illumination stones – objects that required substantial moisture to function and would essentially be useless on dry land unless it rained – only deepened Cazeros’s bewilderment.

In response to her inquiry, I offered a faint smile and replied:

“You shall understand in due time. For now, it must remain a secret.”

“Umm…”

Cazeros’s slightly sullen expression at my words struck me as rather endearing.

Nonetheless, I refrained from further elaboration, as she would inevitably discover the truth in time. Moreover, it was prudent to limit knowledge of this particular secret to myself for the present.

Perplexed by Santana’s inexplicable actions, Cazeros found herself torn between curiosity and apprehension over their prospects of overcoming the impending challenge.

‘While the strategy itself seems well-conceived… Can we truly prevail? General Tilly’s Imperial forces are no trivial adversary…’

Cazeros was well-acquainted with the legendary Archmage Tilly’s formidable reputation.

A Grade Nine mage capable of single-handedly slaughtering thousands of soldiers.

Moreover, the Imperial army accompanying him boasted numerous mid and high-ranking mages, forming a potent force that even outnumbered the Bohemian troops when excluding the mages.

Certainly, launching a surprise attack against the fatigued Imperial forces according to Count Turen’s plan could yield some advantage. However, the fundamental disparity in overall military strength left much to be desired.

‘Moreover, Tilly is no fool. He has undoubtedly anticipated the enemy attempting to exploit the Imperial army’s weariness and prepared countermeasures accordingly. He may have already deployed a Mana Sphere from this point onward.’

The Mana Sphere was a detection-based spell accessible to mages of intermediate rank and above. By diffusing one’s mana into a spherical form, it enabled the detection of any entities within its area of effect.

While precluding the caster from using other spells simultaneously, the Mana Sphere granted the invaluable advantage of perceiving even the slightest movements within its radius.

However, the sphere’s range varied significantly based on the mage’s prowess.

For an intermediate mage first learning the spell, a diameter of merely one meter would be considered praiseworthy.

An accomplished high-rank mage like Count Turen could potentially maintain a range of around four hundred meters.

As for the Archmage Tilly, a Grade Nine mage serving as the commander, his maximum range might extend to one or even one and a half kilometers.

If Tilly had continuously maintained such an immense Mana Sphere in anticipation of potential ambushes during this campaign, it was conceivable that Bohemia’s carefully planned surprise attack could be rendered futile – or worse, leave their own forces vulnerable to a devastating counterattack.

‘In the worst case scenario… Our daring strike could backfire, only compounding our casualties. Yet, the wise Santana must be aware of this possibility. What, then, are his intentions behind these peculiar preparations?’

Puzzled by the purpose behind the erected pillars even as she pondered Santana’s strategy, Cazeros racked her mind but found herself utterly unable to discern the answer.

Regardless of her lingering curiosity, Cazeros found herself fervently hoping, above all else, for Bohemia’s – no, for Santana’s victory in this conflict.

‘If we are defeated… Then I shall embrace my final fate alongside Santana here. But if we emerge victorious…’

Steeling her resolve, Cazeros gazed upon Santana, diligently erecting the pillars alongside the soldiers, and offered a wistful smile.

“So they have arrived within such proximity?”

“Yes, it appears they will reach our domain within a day’s march.”

As the Emperor’s forces rapidly advanced through Bohemian territory and closed in on their objective, the assembled nobles found themselves gripped by a profound sense of tension, mingled with resolute determination.

Addressing them directly, Count Turen issued his commands:

“The enemy approaches. We shall now proceed with our prepared strategy.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“We shall heed your orders!”

The Bohemian nobles responded with a unified bow, their expressions reflecting confidence and anticipation of victory. Satisfied, Count Turen nodded before speaking with grim resolve:

“As I have repeatedly stated, the most crucial aspect of this war is to strike the weakened enemy with a decisive, crippling blow. We have been informed that their forces outnumber us and boast a larger contingent of mages. In other words, this is our first and potentially last opportunity. We must be prepared to commit ourselves fully to this single assault.”

“We shall bear this in mind, my lord.”

“We shall fight as if embracing death itself.”

Turen’s words reignited the nobles’ unwavering determination.

Observing their steely demeanor, he offered a satisfied nod.

His gaze then fell upon Prince Friedrich, seated beside him as the nominal supreme commander, and the attendant Anhalt.

“Very well, we shall proceed with the planned attack as scheduled. The Palatinate forces shall assume their agreed-upon role in striking the enemy’s flanks.”

“Understood, we shall do so. Lord Anhalt, let us demonstrate the valor of the Palatinate troops in this conflict.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Anhalt bowed deeply in acknowledgment of Friedrich’s command.

Though lacking extensive combat experience himself, Anhalt had insisted on assuming command of the Palatinate contingent in this campaign through sheer obstinacy.

With seven thousand soldiers – a force of no insignificant size – Anhalt found himself gripped by a restless sense of urgency, resolving to seize victory through his own efforts.

‘Victory in war is a given, but beyond that… The Palatinate forces must secure a resounding triumph in this conflict. Only then can we contemplate the future.’

Consumed by this compulsive need for decisive achievement, Anhalt scrutinized the map, firmly fixing the Imperial army’s position in his mind.