"Your orders from His Grace the Grand Duke: engage the one thousand soldiers coming from House Darapont first."
"Typical of His Grace. So House Darapont is the one worth worrying about after all."
"Word has it that House Darapont's army has already crossed the border into Leily domain."
"No need to rush. Split the forces — the other column is to march directly on House Leily's main castle."
Command of the North's Main Army fell to Roy de Wintergard.
The reason was simple enough. He had gone to the Imperial Palace and taken the lash, so the Grand Duke had told him to enjoy the honor of leading the North's Main Army in return.
It was no easy task, of course — but there was only one man fit to lead the North's Main Army in the Grand Duke's stead.
He was to conduct military operations as the Grand Duke of the North's proxy.
"A thousand men — we could simply overwhelm them by sheer numbers, but if we want this done quickly, cavalry formation would be better, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Don't engage rashly. Draw them in slowly."
Roy detached two thousand men from the North's Main Army and peeled away to deal with House Darapont's forces.
The remaining column advanced at a measured pace toward House Leily's main castle, without overextending.
Roy surveyed the route House Darapont's army would have to travel.
"They're deliberately taking the flatlands. Any reason for that?"
"Most likely they mean to arrive as quickly as possible."
"Their pace is remarkably fast for infantry. Are they cavalry formation?"
"More likely they've heard His Grace the Grand Duke is at the main castle and are pressing forward at full speed, wouldn't you say?"
"Hmm... Any cavalry or other formations besides infantry?"
"Already detached, apparently."
Roy nodded.
They had heard the Grand Duke of the North was at the main castle, and were driving toward it at full tilt.
It seemed they had settled on a strategy: capture the Grand Duke of the North, and the war ends.
Not an entirely wrong strategy, at that. The cause they had raised was the purity of the Wintergard bloodline, after all.
"This should be easy enough. Once we're in position, hold the line — no unnecessary movement."
"Understood."
House Darapont's line of advance.
Roy completed his march and began setting up camp directly in their path.
Infantry would meet House Darapont's army head-on at the front, while cavalry formed the wings on either side, ready to encircle.
"Hold this formation until the enemy arrives."
"As you command."
"Speaking of which — I hear Darmian's forces have razed another settlement?"
"The twenty-second, apparently."
"Remarkable. At this rate there won't be a single estate left."
"What can you expect? That's about the measure of an ordinary man's thinking when he goes to war with the North."
Ha ha ha — ! Roy laughed heartily.
He was right. A count's domain, when all was said and done, amounted to no more than twenty settlements or so.
Yet despite losing the bulk of their territory, there had been no sign of resistance whatsoever.
House Leily had abandoned nearly everything and shut themselves inside their main castle.
"So in the end all that's left is the main castle itself — what on earth are they thinking the future holds?"
"Hoping for House Darapont's relief, I'd imagine."
"A foolish hope."
One day passed. A scout monitoring the enemy's movements reported back to Roy.
House Darapont's forces had finally arrived.
The cavalry that had been detached earlier and various other units had rejoined the main body, and they were forming up.
Roy was unconcerned.
Let them take all the time they needed to form up — it made no difference.
"Tell the cavalry: the infantry won't move, so the cavalry strikes first and breaks the enemy's momentum."
"I'll relay the order."
Roy's command was passed down. The cavalry charged forward against House Darapont's horsemen.
Cavalry against cavalry.
"Loose!"
The horse-archer contingent unleashed a torrent of arrows.
The North's cavalry — a mix of horse-archers and heavy cavalry — steadily whittled down the enemy.
The horse-archers calculated the distance at which House Darapont's riders would close, and gradually widened the gap.
"They've pulled back! Loose arrows!"
"Close the distance!"
The faster the enemy charged, the shorter the intervals between volleys became.
House Darapont's cavalry did not slow.
Their objective was straightforward: strike first, destroy the wings, and victory was theirs.
"One more pull-back, then switch immediately to heavy cavalry. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The horse-archers kept loosing, steadily thinning the enemy's horsemen. When the distance had closed to nearly nothing —
The North's heavy cavalry charged.
The enemy horsemen slammed into the heavily armored riders and began to shatter.
The horse-archers swept forward alongside them, driving back the forces to the rear.
"Push through! Keep pushing!"
"Don't let up the momentum! Drive forward!"
The cavalry advanced, reclaiming every yard of ground they had given up.
The formations became tangled across a wide front, but nothing could check the momentum of a heavy cavalry charge.
Aaaargh — !
Screams began to fill the air.
The cavalry's momentum showed no sign of breaking.
"The moment the infantry clash, we hit them from behind!"
"Attack!"
They had been waiting for the instant the infantry lines collided.
Seven hundred of House Darapont's infantry crashed headlong into the North's line.
A chaotic, grinding melee — no one could tell friend from foe in the confusion.
Roy watched the situation calmly.
"What's the status of the left and right wings?"
"Waiting for the signal."
"Have the enemy cavalry been pushed well back?"
"Already routed, and the gap is widening, apparently."
"Is that so? Keep the horse-archers on them — and tell the heavy cavalry to drive straight in!"
"Yes, sir!"
A signal arrow was loosed skyward toward the cavalry.
Fweeee — ! The whistling shaft arced far into the distance.
The heavy cavalry would come thundering into the infantry melee at any moment now.
Infantry struck from behind could do nothing.
"The battle is over. Almost too easy."
"About three hours, I'd say, General."
"Fighting the nomadic tribes takes at least three or four days. First time I've ever finished this quickly."
"The heavy cavalry are coming!"
A thick cloud of dust was rising.
The heavy cavalry of the left and right wings began their charge. An encirclement — a vast, sweeping encirclement was closing in.
The infantry could neither break through the front nor retreat to the rear.
They could try to break out to the sides, but that would only mean certain death.
Where was there left for a routed army to run?
"Annihilate them!"
The moment Roy's shout rang out, the heavy cavalry drove deep into the enemy's rear.
Soldiers struck by the horses went flying.
There was almost no need for the careful reading of the battlefield that winning a fight usually demanded.
It was simply a matter of fighting and winning.
"Too easy."
Roy merely watched the battle unfold.
Under normal circumstances he would have been at the very front, ready to smash through everything himself —
but there was no need for that here.
The tangled mass of soldiers were dying without even knowing how.
From the moment the heavy cavalry charged, a circle had formed.
Complete encirclement. Seven hundred infantry were trapped inside, unable to break out.
"The battle is over."
Roy nodded as he said it.
—
"Annihilated?!"
The head of House Leily was shouting at the top of his lungs.
There had been a chance — and he had let it slip through his fingers.
If he had decided quickly and fled quickly, it would never have come to this.
News of the annihilation reached the main castle swiftly.
Regret — but it was already too late.
"A thousand men! A thousand! It hasn't even been long since I received word they were coming, and they've been annihilated!"
He ranted and raged, trying to hide his panic, but it was useless.
It was already too late. News that the North's Main Army had arrived also reached the main castle.
"How many soldiers?"
"More than ten thousand. Perhaps over twenty thousand..."
"Is there no reaction from anywhere else?!"
"House Darapont and several marquis houses have issued statements of support..."
"I don't need statements of support! I need soldiers! Tell them to send soldiers, now!"
The nature of politics. The difference between dispatching troops and issuing a statement of support is clear.
Anyone could offer words.
But what use was a statement of support when soldiers were being sent and annihilation was at hand?
A statement of support could not repel an army, nor feed the men inside the walls.
"What is the situation inside the castle?"
"The worst."
"No chance of reinforcements from anywhere?"
"The last settlement fell a few days ago. There is nothing left."
"So only the main castle remains..."
The head of House Leily sank to the floor.
The North's Main Army had arrived in full. Outside, the castle was encircled so tightly that not even an ant could slip through, and there would be no relief from House Darapont — of that he was now certain.
"Wh — where is the mercenary captain?"
"My lord, the truth is..."
"What is it?"
"It appears he fled last night."
"The entire company?"
"It seems only the captain fled alone..."
The worst possible situation.
The mercenary captain had run. The soldiers remaining inside the castle were reportedly looting at will.
"The situation inside the castle is already at its worst."
There was nowhere left to retreat.
"I — I will surrender. Send word. I can go no further."
"It shall be done."
House Leily had chosen surrender at last.
A futile choice.
Their forces already swept away, their domain already swept away.
There was nothing left.