Chapter 95: The Mercenary King and the Madwoman 2

Left alone in the tent after Archbishop Maxim’s departure, Mansfelt and Christiane took their seats, gazing at each other as they discussed their next steps.

“So… what are your intentions going forward, Lord Mansfelt?”

“If what that woman said is true, it seems we need not worry about them targeting us for a while. In that case, we can simply proceed as originally planned.”

According to Maxim’s account of the Imperial army’s current situation and plans, they were highly unlikely to pursue Mansfelt and Christiane beyond the Palatinate for the foreseeable future.

As the commander responsible for defending the Palatinate, General Spinola could not readily abandon it. And having previously tasted defeat, the supporting General Tilly would be equally reluctant to mount a reckless offensive.

Compounding matters, their already scant supplies had suffered further depletion in the recent battle. In their present state, attacking an enemy of uncertain whereabouts was ill-advised.

Considering these factors, Mansfelt and Christiane’s forces could proceed unhindered with their intended plans – plundering the lords to the north of the Palatinate.

“Heheh… Indeed. I concur with that assessment. This seems… a blessing upon our path forward.”

“Hah, is that so? In my eyes, it is your superior stratagem – not divine providence – that has granted us this opportunity.”

“You flatter me overmuch. This is all thanks to Lord Mansfelt’s trust in me. I have merely provided modest assistance.”

Gazing at Mansfelt with a pronounced smile, Christiane’s demeanor stirred a quickening within him.

‘Truly, the more I observe her, the more I sense this woman and I are well-matched. Her face may be plain, but a woman’s beauty extends beyond mere appearances.’

A cunningly manipulative being adept at exploiting others, untroubled by sacrificing those around her – reveling in a twisted ecstasy as she indulged her madness.

To ordinaryfolk, such traits would only inspire revulsion and disgust.

Yet as Mansfelt locked eyes with her in this moment, he perceived something else entirely.

In this woman’s utter self-absorption, disdaining all else to solely pursue her own wants – however warped – he saw the embodiment of the life he had long sought to live.

And in that moment, Christiane enthralled Mansfelt more powerfully than any woman he had ever encountered.

Recognizing this, he gazed at her with smoldering intensity, unable to avert his eyes.

Whether aware of his state or not, Christiane merely smiled as she rose, suggesting:

“Well then, perhaps we should rejoin the others. With pressing matters resolved, ought we not partake in the merriment?”

As she made to depart the tent…

“…”

The next instant, Christiane halted in her tracks. Slowly, she turned toward the one whose firm grasp had arrested her step – meeting his gaze.

“…Indeed. Now is a time for indulgence.”

A solemn smile formed on Mansfelt’s lips as he spoke those words.

And comprehending their implication, Christiane turned to fully face the man holding her wrist, their proximity increasing.

“Heheh… But are you certain?… With one as unlovely as myself…”

Her coy smile belied an underlying insecurity – aware her plain features fell short of beauty. Thus, she sought Mansfelt’s affirmation.

In response, he slowly reached out, caressing her face as he murmured:

“…To my eyes, you appear more beautiful than any I have ever beheld.”

“…You flatter me unduly.”

“I speak true. And now… I shall prove the sincerity of my words.”

“!…”

With that, Mansfelt firmly pulled Christiane into an embrace.

Though initially startled, she swiftly regained her unhinged smile, whispering in a chillingly sultry voice beside his ear:

“Very well… Prove the depths of your desire for me, my lord.”

“…Gladly.”

Answering her challenge, Mansfelt captured Christiane’s lips in a searing kiss.

Enraptured, she eagerly reciprocated, the two entangling their bodies as they staggered toward the bed in a corner of the tent.

“I have sought a woman like you for an eternity…”

“Heheh… Truthfully, I as well…”

And so began the pair’s ‘revelry’ – continuing until the first light of dawn as the soldiers slumbered in drunken stupors.

Within the sizeable tent assigned to senior officers, Archbishop Maxim ravenously devoured the food set before her.

Until this very morning, her prisoner status had relegated her to barely subsisting on stale, hardened bread scraps.

Yet now, soft loaves, succulent meats, and brimming chalices of wine awaited her indulgence – filling her with immense gratification.

‘Heheh… The saying ‘know when to bend’ has never rung truer. Who could have foreseen this lavish treatment after the beastly conditions I endured until dawn?’

Heartily sating herself with the sumptuous fare, Maxim had just divulged potentially disastrous intelligence – not only on the Imperial army but her very own Holy Knight subordinates.

From troop deployments and operational plans to their dire supply shortages, she had disclosed everything.

Though Mansfelt had withdrawn to this location beyond the Palatinate, that very information could enable his forces to launch surprise strikes against the Imperial armies…

In the worst case, utterly annihilating them along with the Holy Knights.

Yet Maxim felt not a shred of remorse over her treachery.

‘In this world, the survivors are the winners. Whether Mansfelt or the Imperial forces, siding with the victors is the only answer. Heheh… I know not what Mansfelt intends next, but if my disclosures help secure his victory, he will surely reward me further.’

Certainly, there remained the possibility of Mansfelt’s defeat and her own prosecution as a traitor. But in that event, she could simply plead coercion through threats and torture.

Thus, Maxim reveled in the fruits of her ‘prudent’ betrayal, indulging in food and drink without a care.

Swiftly advancing northward, the Imperial forces’ pace remained brisk despite their supply woes.

Unlike Mansfelt’s troops, weighed down by the plundered spoils hindering their march, the Imperial armies traveled unencumbered – their scant rations and munitions posing no significant burden.

And so Tilly and Spinola’s armies pressed ever northward, crossing the Palatinate’s borders in seemingly single-minded pursuit of their foe…