Chapter 169

Chapter 169 - The Daughter of Autumn, Valda (4)

Viscount Winchester and the assembled vassals felt like they were dreaming. However, the intense presence given off by the unidentified castle is a clear reality.

"Excellency. We see no flags or signs of presence at all."

The light cavalry rubbed their stiff necks and reported. The castle is so massive that simply going around it once took time, and their necks are stiff from continuously looking up to examine it.

"Would that make sense? Look at that clean surface. It will absolutely not be an abandoned castle. Look closely again."

"Ah, understood."

Although the castle has damaged parts, not a single trace of moss, weeds, or even bird droppings could be seen.

The secret to that management is because the surface is sterilized every time it warps, but outsiders have no way of knowing such a thing.

"Is anyone there?!"

A soldier with a good voice shouted through a megaphone reconstructed from a large wind instrument.

"We are the army of the honorable Excellency Winchester! Anyone answer... cough cough!"

He shouted until his voice grew hoarse, but there is no reaction from inside.

- There is no mobilization order now. Residents, focus on taking care of your respective families. Crouch down while maintaining silence. Those bastards cannot come inside the castle anyway.

Because Eugene established a new rule of engagement. As the birth rate increased faster than expected, the necessity of stable large families grew even larger.

Mother and paternal aunt, maternal aunt, grandmother, grandfather. It must be a family where each cogwheel is all robust. Only then can multiple children be raised healthily in both body and mind. That was Eugene's belief.

"It's definitely a haunted castle."

"If we don't leave immediately, we will be cursed!"

Fittingly, fog had even gathered above, making it extremely dreary. Moreover, following the lingering thought Eugene left before departing, the castle was absorbing moisture from the atmosphere.

"L, look at that!"

That made the castle look as if it was inhaling and exhaling fog to breathe. Nobles who strongly believed in superstitions drew the sign of the cross and called priests, making a fuss.

"Whatever the case, marching with the castle at our rear makes no sense."

"Then what do we do? Do we capture that stone mountain?"

"Isn't that why I'm saying we should retreat because we can't do that!"

Even those unenthusiastic about superstitions agreed on the thought that continuing the operation was impossible for military reasons.

In the first place, a significant number of the vassals were not very willing about this campaign.

- Honestly speaking, I am afraid of Count Kruger. That person is a lunatic.

- Seeing what he's doing, even if he occupies Britannia, it won't last long. Whether he gets stabbed by subordinates or assassinated.

- The central nobles must feel like walking on thin ice, but would it mean much to us in the south? Taxes might get a bit tight.

The only ones with fire dropped on their insteps are the Viscount and the loyalist faction.

The rest are in a situation merely trying to roughly endure the mandatory conscription period. The mysterious castle that appeared just in time was the best excuse to halt the campaign.

"It is impossible. It falls absurdly short with the ladders we possess."

"To hook grappling hooks up there, we'd have to tie them to catapults and shoot them, though?"

Even attempts to directly investigate the castle all failed. Veteran mercenaries gave the castle a passing glance and shook their heads.

The situation is that the army is organized to attack the small and medium-sized territories of Cornwall. Although they have siege equipment, it was for the purpose of capturing roughly small wooden palisade castles.

Viscount Winchester, who had been stomping his feet for a few days, gave the order to march with a 'whatever' feeling.

"Excellency. The ones suggesting to retreat right now are disloyal folks. They believe they can preserve their territories completely just by swearing a new oath."

"What's even more disgusting than scared bastards are the ones pretending to be scared and trying to back out. Rat-like things that don't know jack shit about honor!"

It is just as the loyal vassals' advice said. If they turn the army around now and it fizzles out, they will definitively fall behind in this civil war race. What waits for the Viscount at the end of that is only losing his position or death.

"I will bestow the Barony of Foster to the one who makes the greatest contribution in capturing it! Win the seat of a lord with your arms!"

"!!!"

"What...?"

At the Viscount's generous promise, the eyes of the mercenary captains and knights changed suddenly.

"Excellency. Would it be fine to promise like that?"

"Is there a choice? The priority is to win first. We don't have the luxury to think about cleaning up the aftermath."

His close aides spoke worriedly, but Viscount Winchester could make promises even greater than this to his heart's content.

'Even that Kruger bastard runs wild without thinking about the aftermath, what situation am I in to nitpick and weigh things!'

The problem was that during the days wasted, Eugene's army arrived.

"Enemy forces! It is the enemy's army!"

Beyond the ridge, a pale-faced scouting soldier drove his horse over and reported.

"Numbers?"

"It is roughly 60% to 70% of ours. Excellency."

"It seems those Cornwall bastards were also preparing."

None of the nobles or mercenary captains showed signs of tension. They have the advantage in all aspects: preparation period, numbers, and supplies. Moreover, they can continue to receive reinforcements of mercenary groups through the rear port.

The problem was at the next question.

"About how many does the cavalry number?"

"It exceeds 600!"

It's the reason the scouting soldier had a pale face.

"You say 600?"

"600!"

"No, 600 cavalry?"

"You bastard! Are you sure you saw properly?!"

Amidst all the nobles panicking uniformly, someone got angry in a burst of rage.

"Are you joking saying 600 cavalry? Didn't you mistake a flock of sheep brought as food?"

"Lord. I am a lowly private, but I do not mistake sheep for warhorses."

The scouting soldier managed his expression and got angry as politely as possible. Even though the difference in status is massive, he too is a soldier who rolled around the battlefield his entire life. He cannot tolerate his pride being crushed like this.

"Alright! I will go see for myself personally! If it is your mistake, know that you will hang on the gallows..."

The knight who was about to drive his horse out stopped. Because he felt a dull vibration.

"Sound of drums?"

A mercenary standing on the ground tilted his head. From far away, a sound resembling hundreds of small drums being struck in succession can be heard.

Guuuuuuu.

The thing echoing as time passed was similar to the growling of a dragon. Conscripts wearing straw sandals felt even the vibration of the earth through the soles of their feet.

"Those aren't Cornwall bastards. Never."

Looking at the army that revealed its figures, one lord spoke as if groaning.

Tribe knights and retainers raising long lances to the sky, and heavy cavalry holding shorter spears than that come pouring down in a rumble.

Behind them, horse archers armed with Fairy Race composite bows and flails poured out. They split into 2 branches and took positions on both wings.

"We definitely came to Britannia, right?"

"Why did they wrap themselves up so tightly..."

Mercenaries from the continent murmured. Even veterans who had eaten a lot of army meals were seeing this many warhorses for the first time. Moreover, the opposing cavalry, both horses and riders, all draped armors.

In contrast, on this side, only the riders wore armors and the horses were naked. In scale and equipment, it was compared too shabbily.

Step step step step.

The footsteps of the Dwarves holding rectangular shields covering their whole bodies perfectly matched their left and right feet. Because of that, the Dwarves' march resounded across the battlefield like a giant drum.

In Viscount Winchester's camp, anxiety spread like a plague. Because the quality and combination of the enemy forces were at an unbelievable level.

"Dark Elves? The Blackhand Mercenary Group!"

"Dwarves are entrusting their backs to them?"

Even if it didn't go as far as hatred like with Elves, despising and ignoring each other is the basic relationship between the two races.

The sight of heavily armed Dwarves with steel plate-coated shields lined up in the front rank, and Dark Elves holding longbows in the rear rank was perplexing.

'My goodness. To think there was a bastard who actually pulled that off.'

A few bold nobles marveled at seeing the dream square formation they had only fantasized about in reality.

When the alignment finished, silence hovered between both armies. If Eugene's side meant 'Let's see what you've got,' the Winchester side was literally a silent uproar.

* * *

"The scale is beyond expectations."

"I think they are about 30% more than this side."

Baron Foster, participating in Eugene's army, spoke.

In the early stages of the war, Viscount Winchester wanted to rapidly unify the south even if he overexerted himself. Considering it was a hastily assembled army, it is a considerable number.

"Looking just at headcounts, he might surpass even Count Kruger."

"Yes, Excellency. Because it's close to the central region, there would be no small number of vassals who haven't been summoned or mercenaries currently undergoing additional organization in Haven."

Haven, Viscount Winchester's directly controlled city, is famous for its vast and fertile plains. It was also possible to go out to the sea through the Thames River flowing alongside it.

Farming, inland transport, and maritime trade. It is a massive city functioning perfectly in three aspects.

Other territories in the south also possess several ports, so they can constantly pull in supplies and mercenaries from the continent.

"Adding the Red Deer Mercenary Group, Stone Fist Mercenary Group, and the Crimson Cloak Mercenary Group. Anyway, those bastards smell money amazingly well."

Rex clicked his tongue while looking at the flags fluttering in the enemy camp. Because a significant number were mercenary groups active on the continent across the sea.

"He wouldn't have just called for high compensation. I suspect he might have promised positions of lords. It must be at least that much for them to come running so eagerly."

"You mean like during the Sicily expedition."

The lord positions to be dropped in the Britannia civil war are incomparably more numerous than Sicily. There was a reason why nobles and mercenaries from the continent crossed over like moths to a flame.

"In this war, we are the central army. Is everyone mentally prepared?"

At Eugene's words, all the unit commanders grinned.

Because it was revealed why Viscount Winchester feared Count Kruger despite commanding a large army.

"They just have many numbers, they are a rabble."

"Half of them are conscripts and fledgling mercenaries?"

One Dwarf Centurion raised his hammer.

"Just look at the sight of them bringing wooden planks that look like they could be used as pot lids, calling them shields. They will shatter completely with one swing of our hammers."

Although they sneer with words, their gazes and bodies do not have even the slightest disarray. Eugene nodded his head at that disciplined posture.

From Viscount Winchester's army, 5 cavalrymen holding flags came out.

"It is the commander's flag. The Viscount himself is coming out. It seems he wants negotiations?"

At the report of a tribe scouting soldier with good eyesight, Eugene rode out on an ordinary horse. Behind him followed Homi and Valda, Baron Foster, and two escort knights.

"If Viscount Winchester finds out the Excellency is an external army, he will try to bribe you no matter what."

"With what? Money?"

"Because he is a gentleman whose only possession is money."

"But what to do. What I want is the city of Haven."

"Hahaha! Of course. It is too good a city for the likes of a traitor to have."

Baron Foster laughed pleasantly. He is as young as his own eldest son, but his way of speaking is truly like a sly old snake.

The cavalry from both sides stopped when they got closer than a certain level.

"I am Viscount Winchester ruling Haven. Just who are you?"

"Eugene Meyer. Viscount of Sicily and master of the Moving Castle behind there."

Viscount Winchester felt the inside of his mouth burning dry profusely.

'Not good. Truly not good.'

It is the sensation of the time he fell off a horse while hunting in the past and looked at the ground rapidly getting closer to his face. A chilling feeling right before getting thoroughly reprimanded.

"The nobility of the undefeated knight who fought for the weak in Bone Yard I have also heard well. You must find an opponent befitting that shining honor in the central region, not here."

Viscount Winchester recited the lines prepared while putting his head together with his scribes.

"Let us face that violent Count Kruger together. Because that bastard will try to fight whether you want to or not, Sir. Since his proposal is nothing but submission or death, we practically have the same enemy. If with your sword, Sir, you save the innocent people of Britannia, that great achievement will be praised eternally. I will personally hire the best musicians to compose a song and offer it."

"A magnificent speech."

Eugene admired genuinely.

It is an era overflowing with illiterate ignorant nobles. Just the fact that he memorized those long lines was sufficiently worthy of praise.

"T, then do you agree?"

"It is regrettable, but that is problematic. I merely came to keep loyalty, I didn't exactly come to build honor."

"Loyalty?"

"I came to return the rights to the legitimate master of Britannia."

From behind Eugene, Valda came out riding a beautiful ivory-colored horse. Sitting side-saddle, she is covering her face and body with a mage's robe and hood.

'To think it's such a ridiculous trick.'

Viscount Winchester bit his lip. Washing and packaging a suitable noble, then putting them forward as an heir to swallow up the territory. It is a very classic method.

"To try pulling tricks bringing a fake noble from somewhere. Are you not even ashamed of your honor as an undefeated kn..."

"Valda."

Valda took off her hood. Blonde hair seeming to have spun melted gold flutters radiantly. A portion coiled around her elegantly peaked ears.

"An Elf!"

Even to nobles of the continent, Elves are respectfully treated existences in themselves. Much less in Britannia, they carry an even more special meaning.

"Golden hair and golden eyes..."

"Exactly identical to the painting."

The Viscount's vassals stared at Valda with stiff faces.

They too are nobles of the south. Even if not at the level of Cornwall, the symbolism of the 1st Era Elf royal family holds great meaning. Because there are not a few families possessing portraits of the royal family like Baron Foster.

"Nonsense!"

Amidst everyone marveling, only Viscount Winchester had a seizure.

"We will know whether it makes sense or not when we go to Haven."

Haven is the region where the first Half-Fairy family took root. In the suburbs of the city, there is the historic site where the royal family used to reside.

"I am Valda El Filiamor. The one who inherited the blood of the 1st Era royal family."

Valda spoke while touching her own chest.

Viscount Winchester did not even dare to meet her eyes, and the vassals behind half-bowed their heads unconsciously.

"When I step into the historic site of Haven, everything will be proven."

A task that any mage or alchemist failed at, but a truly simple matter for Valda.

"Wh, what do you want from me?"

Viscount Winchester tried hard to fix his gaze on Eugene. Because the more he looked at the beautiful Elf Princess, the more he felt his own footing would evaporate. Like a dandelion seed before the wind.

"All of the Viscount's territories including Haven. And the surrender and pledges of loyalty of your subordinate vassals."

However, Eugene isn't a particularly good conversational partner either.

"Are you joking around right now?! This isn't a negotiation, it's a threat!"

"It is neither a negotiation nor a threat. It is a legitimate demand."

"There is no noble in the whole world making such robber-like demands!"

"Complain about that to your ancestors."

Eugene pointed at Baron Foster.

"The nobles of Cornwall kept their fidelity toward the Elf royal family that made them blue bloods. But what about your family? You abandoned the honorable surname bestowed by the royal family, submitted to the invaders, and switched to the surname Chester."

"..."

"Know shame. You are not a petty noble, but a high noble. Doesn't great power come with great responsibility? If you surrender now, I will guarantee your safety. I will also promise wealth to spend the rest of your life comfortably."

"The negotiations have broken down!"

Viscount Winchester unilaterally cut off the conversation and returned to the camp. He felt his footing would only shake further if he spoke more.

"Might you have spoken too strongly?"

Baron Foster had lingering attachments to wanting to resolve it through negotiations.

"I came out to pick a fight from the beginning. I don't know about other nobles, but Viscount Winchester must be ousted. I must absolutely take his directly controlled territories including Haven."

Beyond the vast ocean west of Britannia. There might be an unknown land there.

- There is a vast land we cannot even imagine there. Countless gold mines sleep, and milk and honey flow...

Eugene remembered the words of the captain he saw in the City of Water. Whether that is the truth or not is unknown.

However, if it's true, to plan for that place, he absolutely needed a stronghold in Britannia. Separate from finding rights for Valda, Haven is a strategic point he must occupy.

* * *

"Invaders of Roman! If you have courage, come out here! Here is the undefeated knight of Britannia!"

One knight came out from the Winchester army and bellowed. He too was someone who seized the glory of an undefeated knight in the battle of the fields.

Before armies clash, it's common for champions from both sides to come out and boost morale.

This was a custom opening the path to success for nameless knights, and also a religious ritual determining whose legitimacy the gods supported.

"The blood of the great Einherjar flows in us! Come at me quickly! I will break your swords today and offer glory to the ancestors!"

The knight with a massive frame swung his weapon and didn't stop provoking.

"Might. Come here."

Grrr.

Hiiiigh-!

Might, enraged at the horse that dared to carry its master instead of itself, bared its teeth. The poor horse lost strength in its legs and collapsed.

"Don't do that. What did this guy do wrong."

Eugene patted Might and mounted, and received Blackout from Homi.

Beyond the Britannia knight, several knights waiting for their turn could be seen.

"Did you aim for this when you left the horse and weapon behind?"

"It would be problematic if the opponent got scared and didn't come out, you know."

Baron Foster could only let out a hollow laugh.

As Eugene stepped forward, the army's morale skyrocketed abruptly. The warriors who maintained quietness shouted war cries with the momentum to tear the sky.

Mounting a massive warhorse and bringing a large axe that looked capable of even cleaving castle gates, that majesty was at a level beyond human comprehension.

The Hydra leather wrapping the rider and the warhorse emitted danger signals that touched mammalian instincts profusely.

"..."

"..."

"Ew."

The Britannia knight realized that no matter how much he chattered, the soldiers no longer responded.

"Iik!"

The shame and anger coming from that ignited his fighting spirit as a knight. Unyielding even to Eugene's utterly terrifying posture, he charged forward.

"As expected, this point is the difference between a knight and heavy cavalry, I say."

Martial prowess is martial prowess, but an aspect where the soul is not conquered even when facing a monster. That is the true difference.

"Die!"

When appropriately close, the knight threw a hand axe. Befitting Britannia, which possesses a culture somewhat overlapping with Goldford.

Clang!

However, Eugene easily deflected it. Since the axe blade is so large, it was also convenient to use as a substitute for a shield.

Right after, the massive axe blade disappeared. The diagonal slash striking upwards from below was like black lightning.

With a loud flesh-tearing sound, the warhorse's neck and the upper part of the knight's torso soared into the sky.

The left arm fell to the ground, and blood poured out like a fountain from the diagonally cut shoulder and collarbone. A few meters away, the short bust of the knight tumbled around.

The war cries of the army shouting Eugene's name covered the battlefield.

"You country bumpkins! Did you think all undefeated knights are the same?"

"If you don't want to get stitched up and have a funeral, crawl on your own!"

Mockeries and curses directed at the Winchester army also burst out in abundance. Eugene, receiving those war cries, aimed the bleeding axe.

"You are the ones who challenged first! Let's hope you won't tuck your tails like dogs over just one defeat, right?"

Eugene intended to completely break the enemies' morale before the battle.

Even now, he can clearly see conscripts and mercenaries rolling their eyes and being scared. If the cracks in their hearts get bigger, the point where they rout in the subsequent battle will be brought forward.

"Don't act up, you Roman bastard!"

A new knight jumped out from the Viscount's camp, but he too met his death in a single strike.

Pshhhh!

The horse and knight split in half vertically floundered and collapsed on the ground.

"This time will be hard to stitch together, I think?"

"Britannia undertakers will be touching some money!"

The Eugene's army side got even more excited and chattered. Since the tribe warriors were overall highly educated, their mockery was also top-notch.

When the 5th knight was chopped to pieces and collapsed, there were no more knights who pounced. Then, Eugene drove Might and advanced to the Viscount's camp.

"Eh, eh?"

"Hey, shouldn't we stop that?"

Eugene's subordinates, who were cheering at first, abruptly snapped out of it as he got too close. Because they wondered if he was being too reckless.

Of course, Eugene wasn't doing it just intoxicated by victory. He had the certainty that with Might's legs, he could escape anytime.

Eugene stopped a mere 10m away from the enemy army.

Chwaak!

He swung the massive axe widely, shaking off the blood.

"Hiiik!"

Then, nearby soldiers screamed, fell over, and backed away. The officers who should calm them down and restore the formation also had stiff bodies.

"Is this the end?"

Clip clop clip clop.

Eugene strutted in front of them and proudly raised his head. It's an attitude as if inspecting the front of his own camp.

"If there's anyone who will fight more, step forward!"

At the chilling bellow, not a single person answered. Because if they did, that massive axe would cleave them along with their last words.