Flecks of snow danced through the air under a leaden sky, and a biting wind howled across the mountain ridges, sending involuntary shivers running through anyone exposed to it. Stamping his numbed feet, Galini Bailopute stood atop a towering cliff, gazing down at the sprawling, disordered camp of the
From time to time, soldiers emerged from the camp, undid their armor, dropped their trousers, and relieved themselves in the direction of Podolichi Mountain. Faint sounds of laughter and coarse jeering drifted on the wind: "You fools, we're heading back to winter quarters! You lot can stay up here and enjoy the breeze! Haha..."
Then a handful of officers came out of the camp and kicked a few of those soldiers, probably hurrying them along to get their gear sorted. Another hour or so passed before the first column of three thousand men set out, banners flying and ranks neat, marching southwest toward the Southern Province. Faintly, one could hear them singing battle songs in high spirits, punctuated by the occasional ribald folk tune, bursts of laughter, and cheers of approval.
It really did seem like they were heading home for winter — otherwise their mood wouldn't be so lighthearted and carefree. Bailopute pulled his ox-hide coat tighter around himself, feeling nothing but coldness and heaviness in his heart. When the Third Border Cavalry Corps had withdrawn after annihilating the Melein Duchy, the men had sung their way home just like that. The casualties had been heavy that time, but they were veterans of countless campaigns who believed life and death were matters of fate, and on top of that their personal spoils had been plentiful — so morale had remained high.
But now? The enemy was strutting off to winter quarters while the Third Border Cavalry Corps was still stuck on the freezing slopes of Podolichi Mountain, exposed to the wind and cold. The entire army's morale was in the gutter, especially with snow already beginning to fall, and the furs and winter supplies the corps needed for the hibernation period were still woefully insufficient. His Grace the Grand Duke had sent a letter — the family had done all it could. No one had anticipated the sudden attack by the four Northland allied families this year, which meant the family simply had not stockpiled enough supplies. Even with the aid received from the four central duchies, the bulk of those materials were civilian goods, not winter military provisions.
Bailopute bore no grudge against Grand Duke Fisablen. As a companion who had grown up alongside the Grand Duke since childhood, he understood all too well that writing this letter to explain the situation was born of helplessness. In his memory, Grand Duke Fisablen had always been proud and aloof from a young age. He had held the decrepit nobles of the old Krisen Empire in contempt, never caring even when they dismissed him as a barbarian from the grasslands. He had earned the title of God of War of the Plains, expanding the empire's borders and achieving extraordinary merit, yet he had been perpetually suppressed by those old imperial nobles. It was not until the succession war among the empire's three princes erupted into civil war that the Grand Duke had finally shed his shackles, gaining full military and administrative authority over the Eastern Wasteland Province and the Grassland Province.
What a pity. Just one more year and the Grand Duke's plan could have been implemented. At that point, the Fisablen family could have risen to become the true hegemon of the northeast — perhaps even independently founding a proper kingdom, which would have been the Fisablen family's true ascent to the pinnacle. But no one had anticipated that the plan would be derailed by the surprise attack of the four Northland allied families. Now all those grand ambitions had become nothing but snowflakes in the wind, vanishing without a trace the moment they touched the ground.
"My lord, is the Stone Corps withdrawing back to winter quarters?" asked a Family Knight beside him.
"Yes, from the looks of it, it appears to be true." Bailopute nodded. A couple of days ago, a heavy-armored regiment bearing the Kenmais Family's heraldic banner had arrived at the Stone Corps' camp. At the time, he had ordered the entire army to raise their alert level, fearing the enemy might launch a surprise attack while the weather turned cold. But it had turned out the enemy was simply rotating their forces — pulling the Stone Corps back for winter quarters while the Kenmais Family's heavy armor regiment took over the defense of the camp.
"My lord, after the Stone Corps withdrew, only a single heavy-armored division remains there. Their forces are thin — shall we launch a surprise attack? I think this is a good opportunity." The knight made yet another suggestion.
Bailopute remained silent for a long while before finally shaking his head. "Seiya, let's not push our luck. The weather has already turned cold, and it's started to snow lightly. How many men do you think our corps can still field? More than half our soldiers haven't even been issued proper winter leathers — they'd freeze the moment they stepped outside. Besides, we've taken in nearly twenty thousand soldiers from the Fifth Border Cavalry Corps, and a great many of them are assimilated steppe barbarians who haven't yet adapted to the tactics and discipline of our Third Border Cavalry Corps. Under these circumstances, staying put is better than making a move. If we go on the offensive and get bogged down, it would be a catastrophic disaster for us!"
He patted the young knight on the chest and brushed the light snowflakes from his shoulders. Bailopute said to the young knight in a kindly tone, "Seiya, you are a young lion, a brave knight. But war is not decided by how many enemies you kill. Our primary objective is to hold Mount Bibbiri — that is the Grand Duke's order to us. No matter how many victories we win against the enemy, no matter how many of them we kill, if Mount Bibbiri falls, it means we have failed."
"Before departing, the Grand Duke already laid this out for us. As long as Mount Bibbiri remains in our hands, we can maintain a degree of strategic initiative over the southern provinces. The Northland Four Families Alliance not only has to commit twice the forces to contain us, but their consumption of war supplies far exceeds ours. We can advance to attack and retreat to defend, while the enemy can only play defense. This war is massive in scale and will drag on for a long time. Our job now is to hold on and force the Northland Four Families Alliance to sign a ceasefire with us because the costs and consumption of this war have become too great. This is also the Fisablen family's only chance to turn defeat into a draw."
"Is there no possibility of victory for us in this war?"
Bailopute shook his head with a bitter smile. "No one wants to lose, but in this war we've already lost the initiative. The timing of the meticulously planned surprise attack by the Northland Four Families Alliance was perfect — it struck at the very moment our family was least prepared. The destruction of the First Border Cavalry Corps, the fall of Windbury Royal City — these were the heaviest blows dealt to our family. And though our grand confrontation in the southern provinces alongside the Four Central Duchies against the armed forces of the Northland Four Families Alliance ended in defeat, costing us a reserve corps, the consequences for our family were not particularly severe."
"You should know why. A reserve corps is merely a blade of our family — if we lose this blade, we can conscript steppe barbarian horsemen to forge another. But the destruction of the First Border Cavalry Corps is what truly broke our family's bones and sinews. The dissolution of the Fifth Border Cavalry Corps is no great loss either. What His Highness the Grand Duke must do now is preserve the Second, Third, and Fourth Border Cavalry Corps. These three corps are the foundation of our Fisablen family and the hope for our family's future resurgence. So I cannot gamble with the Third Border Cavalry Corps."
"Seiya, do you know why His Highness the Grand Duke returned to the family's territories? His Highness did not go to reverse the military situation in Muyeyuan Province. Even if he inflicts heavy losses on the Norton Family's hunting cavalry corps, such a localized victory would do nothing to change the current strategic picture. His Highness's true objectives are twofold. First, to see if he can capture Piedro City, make this war even more chaotic, and pit the steppe barbarian tribes against the Northland Four Families Alliance. Second, if Piedro City cannot be taken, the family must prepare itself for several bitter years ahead — so His Highness intends to first eliminate those steppe barbarian tribes on the plains that command ten thousand horsemen, to prevent them from posing a threat to the family."
Bailopute looked into the young Seiya's eyes, wide with shocked disbelief, and let out a long sigh. "Seiya, the blood of the Fisablen family flows through your veins. You are a rising star of our family, and both His Highness the Grand Duke and I have placed deep hopes in you — which is why I am telling you these secrets. Bravery and ferocity serve for only a moment; foresight and strategy serve for a lifetime. Failure is not frightening. What is frightening is failing to learn the lessons of failure and making the same mistake again. The defeat in this war against the Northland Four Families Alliance was unavoidable, and His Highness knows this well. But what we are doing now is working to minimize the impact of this defeat and make it appear less terrifying."
Young Seiya nodded, his face full of gratitude. "Thank you, Uncle Galini. I understand."
Bailopute smiled and patted his shoulder. "All right, I was just talking. As long as you've got the right idea in your head, that's enough. Let's head down the mountain. When you're not on rotation, spend more time practicing the family's inherited combat force. You've got good talent — I hope you can be like Her Highness Princess Silvia and advance to the Gold rank as soon as possible, becoming the pride of the Fisablen family."
"I'll do my best."
"Oh, Seiya, there's one thing I need to trouble you with. Could you make a trip to the logistics camp and have a word with your uncle Volio? As the Quartermaster of the Third Border Ranger Corps, I'd like him not to push things too far. When the Queen passed through here last time, his behavior had the soldiers absolutely furious. On top of that, I'd like you to persuade him to actually do his job properly — the alert defense of the rear mountain passage, for instance. He's been going through the motions the entire time. In terms of rank, I'm just a servant of the Fisablen family, so it's not really my place to manage your uncle's affairs. But I am also the commander of the Third Border Corps, and I'd rather he not force me to enforce military law..."
Young Seiya's face flushed crimson, and he was struck speechless. What a humiliation! One was the Queen of the Kingdom of Iberia, the other the Quartermaster of the Third Border Ranger Corps — one his aunt, the other his uncle — but in his eyes, these two had truly become the greatest disgrace of the Fisablen family!
As the Queen and the Grand Duke's own daughter, his aunt had somehow sunk so low as to open a brothel right inside the military camp — and then the very next day gone on a screaming tirade, cursing every soldier in the Third Border Ranger Corps as penniless wretches who couldn't even scrape together a single gold coin for entertainment. No wonder they kept getting driven back by the Norton Family forces — at least the Norton Family's soldiers had money. When they said one goldford, they meant one goldford; they could even cough up ten goldfords without breaking a sweat...
Seiya remembered how back then he had been so ashamed he'd wanted to burrow into a crack in the ground. He'd never dreamed his aunt could be so brazenly shameless, showing not the slightest regard for the Fisablen family's reputation and honor. Fortunately, Commander Galini Bailopute had handled the matter with decisive authority, ordering his soldiers to throw the women into a carriage and expel them from the camp.
But when the Queen's convoy reached the logistics camp, his uncle had detained them there. Volio, the Quartermaster, and the Queen proved to be kindred spirits. The Queen set up shop with her handmaidens right inside the logistics camp, running a brothel with rock-bottom bargain pricing — just one large silver coin for a night of passion with one of the Queen's handmaidens. No money? No problem! Lord Quartermaster Volio would happily lend you some so you could have your fill of fun. Of course, you'd need to put up collateral — anything would do, even the military equipment issued to the soldiers...
The Queen and the Quartermaster worked hand in glove, turning the logistics camp into an utter cesspool of corruption that even spread to the four regiments in the forward camp. Commander Bailopute endured it for three days before he finally couldn't take it anymore. He dispatched his personal guards to expel the Queen and her entourage from the camp, forcibly escorting their convoy back to family territory. According to the guards who completed the escort, the Queen had cursed the commander the entire way, calling him a fool for standing in the way of her making money...
[He] was the nephew of Grand Duke Fisablen. Bailopute's father, by contrast, had been nothing more than an ordinary menial worker for the family. Bailopute had come to know the young Grand Duke in childhood, becoming his attendant and playmate, and it was through the Grand Duke's patronage that he had risen to his present achievements. Though he had become a
In the past, when Volio as Quartermaster had skimmed a little off the top, Bailopute had turned a blind eye, not wanting to make a fuss — as long as the corps' supply lines held and everyone could save face, that was good enough. But this time Volio had gone too far. Ever since that day, every shipment of supplies sent to the forward camp had been short on weight and quantity, and sometimes he would use transport capacity as an excuse to deliberately delay deliveries. The soldiers in the forward camp grumbled endlessly, their bitter complaints filling the air, and morale plummeted as the army's resolve wavered.
Commander Bailopute was seething with anger. Now was the most critical hour for the Fisablen family, and here was a man who, instead of dedicating himself wholeheartedly to the family's cause, thought only of his own petty calculations — and even seized the opportunity to exact revenge. Truly the height of stupidity. Yet he couldn't very well fall out with Volio outright and punish him under military law; doing so would offend any number of Fisablen family members. So it was better to use Celia's words to warn Volio and have him rein himself in.
……
"Your Highness, this is the third heavy snowfall. The snow on the ground is already half a foot deep. I think we should set out."
"Indeed, it is time. We should deliver a fatal blow to the Third Border Corps."
"Your Highness, you may go, but I refuse to let you lead the vanguard. Otherwise, we would sooner die than go with you…"
"Heh heh, Bog, are you threatening me now…"
"Your Highness, I insist. You may go, but you cannot charge to the front. This is the consensus of everyone here. The family is stable only with you in it. We can be dispensed with, but the family absolutely cannot do without Your Highness."
"Very well. As you wish, I'll follow in the rear."
On December 23rd, Year 1778 of the Galentea Continent's common calendar, the Norton Family's Rock Ridge Corps of the Northland braved the blizzard and swung wide through the Eastern Wasteland Province to launch a surprise attack on the rear of Mount Popilichi, seizing the undefended Third Border Corps' logistics camp in one swift stroke and forcing the four border regiments stationed on the front slope to surrender. The Third Border Corps commander, Gallini Bailopute, publicly committed seppuku after the surrender, leaving behind his final words: "I have failed the Grand Duke's trust. Let my death atone for my sins."
……(To be continued.)