Chapter 259

Chapter 259 - Squatting (2)

Eugene, who was about to set off from the castle, had to delay his departure and stay one more day.

"It's raining."

The tribal warriors, for whom this was their first real combat, stretched out their palms and looked up at the sky here and there. Existing warriors paid no attention to the sky, preparing for camp as if asking if this was their first or second time experiencing it.

"O’Connell?"

"Your Excellency the Count. My knees only predict whAAether it will rain or not, they don't tell me when it will stop."

When Eugene looked at him, the old mercenary smiled awkwardly and shook his head.

Meanwhile, Leo, who wanted to serve him with utmost sincerity, was flustered at Eugene's answer that he would camp outside the castle.

"It's raining outside, why don't you spend it in the castle?"

"I'll gratefully accept just the sentiment."

Eugene pointed at his subordinates resting around the campsite.

They sorted out the warhorses in relatively poor condition, set up roofs, and lit fires. Some fed the horses carrot porridge mixed with a secret pill that warms body temperature.

"As you can see, the men cherish the horses terribly. They say they don't want to leave them in the rain and go into the castle. It's also because there are enemies all around. How could I comfortably lay down myself?"

"Your Excellency is truly knightly."

Unlike Leo, who nodded in admiration, his mother looked thoroughly displeased.

"Acting Lord, what are you saying? His Excellency the Count's honor is already known to everyone. It is unacceptable to let a precious guest face the dew."

"Madam. I am thankful for the sentiment, but the castle's situation must not be good, there's no need to overdo it."

Having escaped from an atrocious defeat and lost all their supplies, the castle didn't have enough food stockpiled inside. Even that was rapidly depleting due to refugees flocking from all directions.

There are many mouths but no capacity to properly bake bread. Even the castle garrison, the highest priority for rations, was eating something akin to flower bread made by roughly steaming lumps of dough.

"If the garrison is like this, the refugees' situation must be even worse."

"It's all because I am lacking."

"There are many lords who completely lock the castle gates and do not accept refugees. You risked your life and went out to save them."

Eugene gestured, and the quartermaster ran over.

"Hoffman. Excluding the supplies we'll use until the convergence point, how much can we leave behind?"

"If we set a 40% surplus, we can give a month's worth of food."

Perhaps having calculated in advance, an answer returned immediately.

"Our lives were already saved from the mercenary bastards, to receive grace greater than this..."

"If we're going to help, we should help properly. Moreover, won't this function as a military stronghold passing through for the Western army later? The people here need to be healthy for everyone to be comfortable. Please do not decline."

Compared to crushing the mercenaries in the daytime battle, sharing food wasn't that big of a grace. But gratitude has a synergy. When favors are given continuously like this, even small ones feel huge.

Soon under Hoffman's guidance, the castle defense fOrces received combat rations and moved them to the warehouse. They looked at the brown powder in the sacks with curious eyes.

"What is this? The smell is fantastic."

"Compressed meat powder. The nomads call it Vitex, which means essence of life. If you dissolve it in warm water, it becomes a hearty meat porridge for a meal on its own. It's highly digestible and no field ration can match it nutritionally."

"Ohh!"

They had been eating only flower bread without even salt. Seeing the meat porridge smelling profusely of spices, they all swallowed their saliva. Among those eating deliciously, there was also a pregnant woman.

- Bring the next ones!

- Please spare me!

It was the woman who had been held hostage by Black's mercenaries with a blade at her neck. She was particularly happy, eating flower bread togAAether with a stew containing plenty of Vitex.

* * *

As the sun set, lightning began to strike.

Horses are animals as timid as they are gluttonous. Even while scattering to graze, a thunderstrike would startle them, making them backpedal. Horses on their first campaign ran straight to their riders and buried their faces in their embrace.

"Whew. The thunder isn't going to bite you or anything."

Purureuk.

When the rider patted it, the trembling felt from the large head quickly subsided. On the battlefield, they are partners holding onto one's life, and in peacetime, they are this cute.

Moreover, the race substituting their love for the forest into love for livestock is the Dark Elves. Independent of their identity as nomads, they couldn't help but love horses.

Once it gained sufficient peace of mind, did its gluttony rise again? The horse went to a marked patch of grass and shoved its head down to graze.

Ureureung.

It shrank its body when the thunder struck but didn't run away.

"Yeah. I'm here."

Glancing at where the rider was, once he waved his hand, it relaxed and resumed grazing.

Inside the tents, tribal warriors clustered by squad were eating their combat rations with some variations.

"What's this?"

"Didn't you say you wanted to try sauerkraut before? I procured the little bit remaining in the castle with difficulty. We heavily craved vegetables after gnawing on jerky the whole time due to fOrced marches anyway."

"No, geez... if you mix that and Vitex in one bowl, it's just pig slop! If you're going to do it, boil it in a separate bowl!"

Cheolpudeodeodeok.

"Even the sound of putting it in the bowl is exactly the same as pig slop."

"Don't eat it if you don't like it!"

Although arguments occasionally broke out due to differences of opinion, it was fundamentally a harmonious barracks.

Hihihing-!

Keureung-!

Hi...hing...

A little distance away, Might was establishing discipline among the warhorses captured in battle. Behind Might stood horses equivalent to class presidents in a herd. As expected of high hierarchy, they stood imposingly without blinking an eye at the thunder.

"It seems quite convenient traveling with Might. Rebellious horses that kicked saying it's not their master would docilely change in a single night."

"Wouldn't beasts have the language and society of beasts? There must be things you can't teach with just carrots and sticks."

"That's very true."

The Chief Horse Manager, who reported the warhorse check-in details to Eugene, expressed his admiration. Even for him with 110 years of experience, it's a fascinating sight every time.

Enjoying an affluent life under Eugene, many of those who had retired recovered their vigor to an unconTrollable degree. Thanks to that, quite a large number hoped to return to active duty, even if in non-combat positions.

Having enjoyed genuine vacations for several years, their bodies and minds became abundant, and their wanderlust revived. It's a part clearly different from elves, for whom a stable life in the forest is instinct.

"Go to bed now. Because if the rain stops early, we'll depart immediately in the morning. Don't say things like old men have no need for sleep."

"I am the type with a lot of sleep."

The Chief laughed heartily and waved his hand.

"If there's any discomfort, speak without reservation."

"Rather than uncomfortable, should I say it's something lacking? Getting a taste of adventure again is really nice, but leaving the Moving Castle makes my sleeping place feel a bit empty."

"That can't be helped. Because there is no place as comfortable as the bed at home."

"I am not speaking of physical comfort."

"Hmm?"

"Do you know, My Lord, that there isn't a single person in the Moving Castle who has nightmares?"

When the Chief Horse Manager lifted his top, a large scar traversing from his belly button to his chest appeared.

"Now we sweep across battlefields overwhelmingly under His Excellency the Lord, but during the days I was active, whew. There were many guys who engraved at least one of these on their bodies even if they only served for 20 years."

"Saying 'only' for 20 years..."

It's an expression fitting the fairy race with lifespans and youth that are long.

"Guys who suffered even more terrible injuries than this were common. There were also guys who stuffed the inner organs of childhood friends or siblings back into their stomachs."

"I know. Because while camping, there are some who occasionally talk in their sleep in agony wondering if they are having nightmares."

Most of them were elderly warriors.

- Heuaaa... S-save me. I can't breathe...

- Hey. Snap out of it.

Eugene has severely shaken someone awake while paTrolling the camp. Homi also has the experience of waking someone up with soft back-and-forth tail slaps.

"Because the holes drilled in the chest don't get filled even if physical wounds heal. Once you think you've forgotten, the nightmare of the battlefield that visits is something everyone hangs onto a couple of."

With long lifespans and youth, they remain on battlefields much longer than human warriors. Therefore, veteran soldiers couldn't help but have deep soul wounds too.

"But staying in the castle, those disappeared."

The Chief lifted his necklace. It's an item carved with the symbol of the Goddess Banas.

"It's something that happened after the Goddess situated herself in our nest. When lying on the bed and falling asleep. In that split second when consciousness drops, we feel her embrace. As if she embraces our souls and guides us somewhere."

The old soldier's expression was dreamy, as if dreaming while awake. The fleeting sensation felt right before falling asleep was so extremely ecstatic.

"You know well."

"Pardon?"

"Gaining many people and receiving abundant tributes, the Goddess's authority has grown. To the point of preparing a Dream Garden for her believers."

When Eugene pointed to the sky with his hand, the Chief also looked up.

"Our castle is like the entrance heading to Banas's temple. Falling asleep in the castle is tantamount to visiting the Goddess's kingdom while unconscious. Under her guidance, it's like staying in a world filled only with tranquility and returning."

"So that's why no one had nightmares."

A story that could be considered vain, but the Chief did not doubt it. Because his soul had been telling him it was the truth.

"As expected of the Goddess's knight."

Eugene is not a monarch solely wielding secular power. As the guardian knight protecting the Goddess Banas, he was also granted the authority of a religious leader.

Currently treated by the world as Count Mayer, Valda's prediction was that he would be acknowledged with a status above a Count-Bishop by religious orders within 30 years.

* * *

Eugene's light cavalry troop crushed one more bandit pack on their marching route before joining up with the main fOrce.

"Eugene!"

Valda ran and embraced Eugene's chest.

"Why are you acting like this when it hasn't been long since we parted."

A sight difficult to see among other noble couples steeped in formalities where political marriages are routine. From Eugene's perspective, going through a 1-hour procedure just to exchange greetings between spouses felt absurd too.

"Did you fight once... No, twice?"

Valda, still hugging Eugene tightly, inhaled his body scent and said.

"How did you know that?"

"Because a unique scent comes from you after fighting and returning. As if there is something your body secretes only when entering a battlefield."

The times they held each other naked and shared body warmth. The breaths Valda drank while burying her face all over Eugene's flesh alone would be enough to fill the Moving Castle. She could immediately distinguish her husband's condition.

"Did the Moving Castle settle down well?"

"There was an error of about 2km, but there are no problems. We planted the castle in a spot that acts like a thorn in the throat for the Emperor's faction."

Until now, the way Eugene had utilized the Moving Castle was mostly as a supply staging point. Blocking the path connecting the Britannia civil war to the south to secure safety was somewhat merely an exceptional case.

Squatting by dropping down amidst enemy lines, this teleportation was the most offensive example of utilizing the castle. It showed mounting confidence regarding independent operations of the main and reserve fOrces.

"I am a bit worried. Enemy Emperor's faction troops lurk everywhere, but the magicians, knights, and elites have all emptied their seats. The only ones left are the guards and reserves."

"You know well how the masonry of the Ancient Kingdom is, Lady Valda, don't you? Even if they mobilize dozens of catapults and pound day and night, the catapults will break down first."

"That would be so, but a fall doesn't just happen through head-on attacks."

"Both the defense commander and the middle managers are, in a good way, inflexible guys. There's nothing to worry about."

Before leaving the castle, Eugene gathered the defense fOrces in front of the castle gate and educated them himself. Some of them wear medals on their chests. Thanks to their uncompromising dispositions, approaching frustration.

- WhAAether the enemy army comes and threatens or provokes, do not open the castle gate.

- Don't worry. Even if the whole world corrupts into an army of pagans, they won't breach this castle.

- Even if I come in person and tell you to open the gate, ignore it.

- ...Pardon?

Instead of answering, Eugene glanced at the massive castle gate.

Guuuuung.

Then the castle gate moved on its own. The procedure requiring several defense soldiers to cling to and operate devices was omitted.

- WhAAether from inside or outside, if one needs help to open or close the castle gate, wouldn't they be a fake pretending to be me?

- Aha!

- Just shoot crossbows at them right away.

To flex one's arm, nothing but will is needed.

"Then will you just leave the castle as a threat?"

"For the time being, just the castle's presence will make the Emperor's faction supply units wander. If they eventually grow bold and attempt to ignore the castle and pass by, the reserve cavalry will deploy."

Currently, the place the Moving Castle descended upon lacks water and has severe winds, making it impossible for troops to garrison there. Pitching camp there would chip away even a well-prepared elite army like weathering.

* * *

Now the Western army had fully entered the territory occupied by the Emperor's faction armies. Slashing fOrces from both sides engaged in sporadic skirmishes all over.

The Emperor's faction units had plundered like overturning the south and raked in wealth. Western nobles who defeated them grabbed massive fortunes in one go. Conversely, in the case of being repelled, they suffered huge losses having to pay their own ransom.

Could it be said the entire southern battlefield had turned into one giant gambling house? The stakes are solely all-in, a gambling house for beasts where lives could blow away if things went wrong.

"They say the Thorn Wildcat Mercenaries are half a day away. Sending just three centuries will easily crush them."

"Just let them be. There will be many nobles hunting those kinds of guys even if we don't step forward."

"The scouts spotted Baron Dalron's flag. They say he's fleeing after fighting a Noble's faction army, so if we pursue, we can easily capture him."

"Ignore."

Eugene had no intention of chasing down small to medium-sized mercenary units or provincial lord armies wandering around like wild dogs one by one. Because he got a target more urgent than wealth.

"According to intelligence gleaned from interrogating the Emperor's faction mercenary captain named Black, the Emperor signed a contract with slave traders to secure war funds."

"It looks like they are trying to receive financial support by handing over prisoners of war wholesale."

Cassandra, who had bad memories related to this, frowned.

"Right. The nobles have their ransoms paid by their families, but rank-and-file mercenaries or conscripts don't have that. They hate to release them, and it's troubling to kill them all, so they decided to hand them all over."

The treatment of low-status prisoners differs extremely from region to region and situation to situation. Killing everyone is naturally not evaluated well, but it wasn't treated as tyranny either. Selling them as slaves was a merciful treatment.

Eugene pointed at a section of the operations map. It's a fortress city located not far from his army.

"I heard the Emperor's faction armies and slave traders collaborated to make a kind of POW camp and auction house. We will strike this place."

"A good idea. There will be some noble prisoners there besides ordinary soldiers. If you rescue them, your honor will embellish this entire civil war."

Valda nodded as if liking it.

"That's not all. It is said that Dark Elf refugees dragged from here and there across Roman during the civil war are also imprisoned here. Full-scale auctions haven't opened yet, so now is the only time to save them."

"...!"

All the tribal warriors listening to Eugene's words sparkled their eyes.

Indeed, there was a reason their liege was leaving aside all the appetizing prey to target this place with utmost priority.