The morning of June 28th, 1512, by continental reckoning, dawned.
Today, the sky that would soon turn blue is once more compelled to witness the spectacle unfolding on the ground.
It is the spilling of blood onto soil already dampened by summer rain. It is the clash of a spike driven into one shield against another spike driven into a second. People call it slaughter, call it war, call it tragedy.
But no word can truly capture the scene they would behold today.
Thirty thousand people would die this day. Many would be killed without ever truly knowing what was happening, while others would kill with willing hands. Responsibility has no place here. A person can thrust a blade into another's throat with perfect nonchalance.
What would the historians say about this?
Mobilizing every flourish of language and style, what would they commit to the history books?
Probably little more than mankind's ugly instincts. They would sing of tragedy in somber tones, claiming that war never ends, and in the end, record only a few people's courage, a few people's strategy, a few people's luck—as if those were the only special things.
There would be no blood in those accounts.
No furious clash of bronze against bronze, no war cry torn from one killer's throat to the next.
Therefore, the memory belongs to me alone.
As a Demon Lord who lives for eternity, I remember every drop of blood to be spilled on this plain today. I will not even tolerate a half-hearted reproach of human nature. The responsibility lies right here. And it will remain here forevermore.
"General."
"Mm."
Laura slowly gathered her hair at the back of her head.
Our army was currently marching toward Piacenza. Taking Piacenza was not the objective. Given our inferior numbers, a siege was out of the question.
The destination was the river that flowed between our forces and the royal army's.
There were two routes from Pavia to Piacenza. The southern route that crossed that river. And the northern route that detoured toward Milano.
"If we take the northern road, we'd be positioning ourselves between Milano and Piacenza. The Grand Duke of Florence would grow suspicious. He doesn't know we're having internal strife, so why would we willingly put ourselves in an even more precarious encirclement……"
There was a risk that they'd grow suspicious of our intentions. That was precisely why we chose the southern route.
"Your Grace, I'm concerned about whether Baron de Blanc managed to hide well."
"The Baron led a special detachment last time and executed the operation splendidly. She's the right person for this."
Baron de Blanc had been waging a pursuit through the night. She slept only three hours in the command tent before using the teleportation grimoire once again to depart somewhere.
What could she possibly be hiding?
Last night, Laura had ordered the pursuit of the prisoners to be conducted half-heartedly. Because there was a far more important objective concealed beneath it all.
The cavalry force led by Baron de Blanc was currently lying in ambush in the forest near the riverbank.
The cavalry had been deployed under the pretense of capturing fugitives in the dead of night. Even if a spy embedded among our forces — and of course, there were spies everywhere — witnessed the cavalry riding out, it would be reported to the enemy as "the cavalry was dispatched to pursue the prisoners."
It was the perfect opportunity to dispel any suspicion of an ambush.
To add to that, the previous night's search operation had mobilized a thousand cavalry and twelve hundred infantry. Two hundred of the infantry had been returned to our camp as a feint. The remaining two thousand were now, presumably, holding their breath alongside Baron de Blanc in the forest.
Since arriving in this world and spending quite some time wandering around playing at war, I had come to realize one truth: always exaggerate your forces when advertising them.
If you have ten thousand, claim twenty. If you have twenty, inflate it to fifty thousand. This wasn't empty bravado. It was necessary so that when a couple thousand troops slipped away from the main camp, the enemy wouldn't notice.
Both our side and the enemy knew it — that the fifty thousand was an inflated number. The key was to make it impossible for them to get an accurate read on exactly how many troops we actually had.
You could either dramatically understate your forces or dramatically overstate them…… but exaggerating was clearly the better play. Even when requesting aid from the homeland or allied nations, saying "fifty thousand are starving right now!" would bring more relief than saying "thirty thousand are starving right now!"
In any case, the enemy didn't know our true troop strength. The discrepancy of two thousand hidden soldiers was well within acceptable margins.
"……."
I turned my head and looked at Laura. A calm, resolute face was there.
This girl always played for two wins with a single move. By deliberately releasing the prisoners, she had lured the enemy into rushing into battle. At the same time, she had evaded suspicion while concealing her ambush force…….
The probability of the ambush succeeding was extremely high. It was an admirable display of skill.
The concept of an ambush itself was ordinary enough for anyone to think of. The real question was whether you could actually pull it off……. That was where the third-rate and the second-rate diverged. If you could execute your plan in reality while also achieving double the benefit, you would unquestionably belong to the first rate.
"Here is the intelligence report from the scouting unit, Your Highness."
An aide spurred his horse forward, approaching in haste.
"The enemy forces in Piacenza have begun moving busily. It appears they are preparing to march."
"They've started moving already. The Grand Duke of Florence is quick to decide."
Laura smiled.
"Send the order to the Blue Goat Archer Cavalry Brigade."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
"Have them immediately advance as the vanguard, ride out to the enemy camp at Piacenza, and unleash a volley of arrows upon them. This is not to engage in close combat. Just showing those Sardinian brats what arrowheads taste like will suffice."
The dwarf battalion commander saluted.
"Understood. I shall draw them out thoroughly."
One thousand horse archers broke from the long marching column and surged forward. Ten mages accompanied them as a precaution against magical warfare.
While the archer cavalry harassed the enemy, we arrived at our original destination, the river line. Laura ordered the camp to be established before this river.
The river's name was the Trebia.
It was less a river and more a slightly wide streambed. The width was considerable, but the depth was shallow. Originally, in Sardinia, rain was rare in summer and frequent in winter. However, it wasn't dry enough to be called a drought season, so the watercourse maintained a respectable appearance.
Yet, marshy areas formed sporadically around the riverbank.
If a large army were to cross the Trebia, they would initially feel reassured by the sluggish current and shallow depth. However, the numerous large and small marsh pools scattered about made it difficult to even place a foot down.
In other words, it was perfect for a small force to cross, but far from ideal for a large army to move through at once.
Laura had spent over half a month sending scouting units in all directions to thoroughly understand the surrounding terrain. She had anticipated from the start that a battle would occur near Piacenza, so she had ordered the scouts to investigate this particular area in detail.
And so, Laura designated the Trebia River as the battlefield.
"It appears manageable but is, in reality, treacherous. This small, unremarkable riverbed possesses ideal conditions for an ambush."
A short while later, the horse archer regiment returned from the far side of the river. The regiment was being pursued by enemy cavalry.
Without hesitation, the regiment plunged into the river and fled toward their own lines, which gave the enemy pause. A lone cavalry unit wouldn't have been keen to chase deep into enemy territory. Having driven them off far enough, the enemy cavalry commanders wheeled their horses around.
That was when the horse archer regiment, halfway across the river, turned and launched a fresh attack. They seemed determined to taunt the enemy. The Kingdom of Sardinia's cavalry regiment responded by drawing their bows in kind.
It was quite a rare spectacle. Horse archers circled near the riverbank, trading volleys with one another.
Incidentally, a duel between horse archer units was the least costly form of engagement. It was hard enough to hit distant enemy soldiers with arrows, let alone hitting a moving target while seated on a moving horse. It bordered on farce. Honestly, the cost of the arrows alone was a pity.
When afternoon came, the main Kingdom of Sardinia army began to move.
The enemy had already regrouped their formations to perfection. Archers took the front, backed solidly by spear infantry. To prevent the horse archers from approaching, the enemy had even reinforced their cavalry.
Laura observed the encounter battle unfolding from a distance.
"The enemy has cavalry — not much of it, by the looks of it. Roughly three thousand."
"Less than that, I'd say. Twenty-four hundred, maybe twenty-six hundred."
The elven regiment commander spoke up from her side. Elves had sharper eyes than humans.
"The one troublesome unit is the Peregrine Falcon Knights of Florence. A six-hundred-strong knightly order that proclaims itself the strongest in the Kingdom of Sardinia."
"The strongest in the Kingdom of Sardinia, you say."
Laura gave a slight smile.
"It seems declaring yourself the strongest is fashionable everywhere these days. So — are they something to fear?"
"Not in the slightest, Your Highness. If we were afraid of Sardinia's knights, we wouldn't be in the mercenary business."
The mercenary captains chuckled. Morale was high enough.
"I'm changing the plan."
Laura tapped her command baton against her palm.
"My original intention was to strike while the enemy was mid-crossing, but that doesn't seem necessary anymore. We'll wait until the enemy has fully crossed the river."
"This will be an easy fight. Is that acceptable, Your Highness?"
"Oh. If the enemy only has two thousand five hundred cavalry, there's no particular need to be cautious."
The mercenary captains didn't object and simply nodded. They had already placed considerable trust in the young supreme commander before them.
The mounted archer corps had crossed the river while being pursued by the enemy cavalry. This time, the enemy had been bold as well. They followed the mounted archers closely and crossed the Trebia River. The moment the enemy finished crossing the Trebia, Laura swung her command baton.
"All cavalry regiments — charge!"
The cavalry regiments, already formed up in battle order, blew their horn trumpets.
All of their cavalry, except for Baron de Blanc's forces lying in ambush in the nearby forest, surged forward with manes streaming behind them. Including the light cavalry, the number reached forty-five hundred — twice the enemy's strength.
Fierce cavalry engagements broke out on both flanks.
Meanwhile, the enemy infantry crossed the Trebia.
Without hesitation, they advanced toward the main body. A staggering force of thirty thousand infantry. The sight of a massive army marching in formation was terrifying even to veteran mercenaries.
"Archers, forward!"
"Archers, forward!"
I relayed Laura's command, shouting it through an amplification spell. Five thousand archers moved up in a single line ahead of the pikemen. Soon after, the same order rang out from the other side as well.
"Begin firing!"
"Loose!"
On their commanders' orders, the archers loosed their arrows. Some arrows fell deep into the enemy ranks, striking a thigh here, an arm there. But whether on their side or the Kingdom's, the damage was not significant.
Several volleys of arrows were exchanged. During that time, the distance between the two armies steadily shrank. It wasn't fast, but each step — each undeniable step — closed the gap. Before long, they were close enough that anyone with good eyesight could make out the expressions on the enemy soldiers' faces.
"Pull the archers back to both flanks."
Laura gave the order. The gentlemanly exchange of arrows was now over.
Their archers quietly withdrew to the flanks, and the enemy archers likewise retreated behind the pikemen. For a brief moment, the number of arrows streaking through the air clearly diminished.
Now, neither they nor we can afford to take a step back.
To turn our backs would mean nothing less than a devastating defeat and a wretched flight.
"For His Imperial Majesty!"
"Glory to the King!"
With war cries erupting on both sides, the front ranks of the two armies collided.
The Battle of Trebia had begun.
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
I'll be posting the war map in the settings section.
The detailed battle map will probably go up in the next chapter.