Chapter 66: Annoyance

“Th-That can’t be.”

Girolamo Marchisio, the commander of the rescue force sent by the Setnil Holy Kingdom and head of the 2nd Division of the Holy Kingdom’s Army, could not hide his shock.

“We’re being completely overwhelmed? Us, one of the Holy Kingdom’s finest elite forces?”

The formation of the rescue force had been carefully selected and reviewed with the utmost attention.

Only the most outstanding members within the division were chosen, and both the commander and vice-commander were personally involved in the process.

Although the number of troops was just over eleven hundred, they were confident that their actual combat strength was equivalent to that of an entire regiment—about three thousand soldiers.

And yet.

Despite all that.

Girolamo’s brave subordinates and reliable comrades were now being utterly wiped out.

By an enemy force barely the size of a battalion.

“Wh-What’s wrong with all of you?! Pick up your weapons. I said counterattack! Shoot your rifles and thrust your spears!!”

“It’s no use, Commander!! The Kingdom bastards are too strong! They charge in and break our formation before we can even react—how are we supposed to deal with that?!”

“You’re knights, aren’t you?! Why are knights losing in brute strength to some cavalry unit?!”

Why was this happening?

Was it because their equipment was too poor?

Because they disguised themselves as mercenaries from Kailas and wore shabby armor?

No.

That might be a factor, but it wasn’t the main issue.

The Holy Kingdom’s knights were all elite warriors with at least five years of training.

They could all use basic magic, and many were veterans with actual combat experience.

They had long overcome any fear of killing through subjugating bandits and purging heretics.

Even if their weapons and armor were subpar, they still held a two-to-one advantage in numbers. There was no reason for them to be beaten this badly.

‘I expected our momentum to drop after we lost the initiative. But this is just ridiculous…’

Girolamo clicked his tongue and sighed.

If there was no particular problem with his own forces, then only one conclusion remained.

‘Monsters.’

It wasn’t that they were weak.

The enemy was just far too strong.

So strong that what the Holy Kingdom considered “enough” strength simply wasn’t enough to face them.

“Please give us orders, Commander! What should we do?!”

“F-First, scatter! Spread out left and right! Trying to maintain control will only get us all killed. For now, scatter and regroup by platoon!”

“Where to, sir? Please give us a location!”

“Toward the enemy’s rear! If we regroup with that city at our backs, they won’t be able to suddenly change direction easily!”

Isn’t that just a cowardly excuse?

Sure, you could see it that way.

But what else can I say?

How else do you explain losing to lunatics who crush us two-to-one even against the same unit types?

This was beyond our control.

We did our best within the limits of our own ‘common sense,’ but when you face someone who surpasses that common sense, how can you possibly win?

“Dear god. They’re scattering and chasing each of us down individually! What the hell kind of insane maneuvering is that?! They charge, scatter, then instantly reverse course?!”

“This is a cheat move!!”

Then why was there such a massive gap in combat ability that it felt almost unreal?

Just ten years ago, things weren’t like this.

How had the Kingdom’s army become so strong while no one was looking?

As he fled from the Kingdom forces, who were persistently pursuing him with high-level maneuver tactics that should only be theoretical at best, a sudden memory resurfaced in Girolamo’s mind.

A conversation he once had with the commander of the 3rd Division, shortly after war broke out between the Kingdom and the Empire.

‘Hey, you hear the news?’

‘What news, sir?’

‘Recently, mercenaries from all over the continent rushed over to the Allied Empire and the Kingdom. Said it was the biggest payday in years.’

‘Oh yeah, I heard. The bishop even said he was glad all the sword-waving idiots disappeared from the streets.’

‘That so? Well, too bad. I was going to tell you that those guys have started coming back.’

Back when the two great continental powers were waging full-scale war and pulling in as much overseas manpower as they could, there was suddenly this mass return of mercenaries who had previously been well-employed.

Sure, it wasn’t rare for people to break contracts due to personal issues or lack of payment, but this? This was on another level.

Tens of thousands, from both countries combined, all left at the same time.

‘Any idea why?’

‘Beats me. But rumor has it… the local command in both the Empire and the Kingdom just kicked them out. Said they were dead weight.’

‘What nonsense. They’re saying in desperate times, even mercenaries were useless?’

‘Exactly. Maybe they were all high or something?’

Back then, he just brushed it off as a strange event.

But now… he finally understood.

They didn’t go mad and kick the mercenaries out.

They genuinely didn’t see the point of paying for something so worthless.

“It was the snowfields. The devils were forged in the snowfields.”

Even in the distant Holy Kingdom, the brutality of the snowfield frontlines was infamous.

The fighting there had been so intense that the horrors reached far and wide.

As both sides battled daily in such extreme conditions, the overall quality of their regular troops soared.

So much so that mere mercenaries, who fought only for pay, couldn’t even keep up with the pace of operations.

After ten full years of brutal training, those soldiers staged a coup and seized power.

They became the garrison force of the capital.

And now, they’d been deployed here, where they ran into Girolamo’s unit.

Compared to them, Girolamo and his men were nothing but arrogant amateurs, proud yet ignorant.

“We should never have engaged them head-on. We should’ve hidden and launched a night ambush instead. If we had tried a different approach instead of a full-frontal assault, we might’ve had a sliver of a chance!”

Having a bit of combat experience didn’t mean anything.

What use was fighting in some minor skirmish or suppression campaign?

Compared to those who fought a daily battle for survival just to move between camps and the battlefield, their own experience was child’s play.

Girolamo screamed.

He lamented that his foolish decision had gotten his men killed, and despaired at the lack of any real way to turn the situation around.

‘The mission is a failure. From now on, we focus on surviving. Forget the king—we need to save as many as we can.’

But he couldn’t allow himself to wallow in despair.

He had to save lives.

He couldn’t let his men die in this distant, foreign land.

“Vice-Commander! Turn toward the 8 o’clock direction—”

“Commander! Behind you!!”

Just as he was about to give regrouping orders to his vice-commander, a subordinate let out a blood-curdling scream.

In that moment, Girolamo realized, an enemy had crept up behind him, swinging a saber with both hands.

“Ah.”

“I got the enemy commander’s head!!”

—Crunch!

His head was severed.

His body fell from his horse, rolling onto the dirt.

That was the last sight Girolamo ever saw in his life.

** * * *

And a few days later.

“So in the end, there was an ambush, but you handled it well and even captured prisoners on your way back?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

I buried my face in my hands, overwhelmed by the confidence of my subordinate, who was already excitedly boasting of his exploits the moment we returned.

Goddamn it—now the Holy Kingdom’s getting involved too?

I’m already about to die trying to figure out how to negotiate a peace treaty with the Empire, so why are more uninvited guests showing up?

“…Anyway, I understand. You’ve done well, so go and get some rest. I’ll arrange a proper reward for your service soon.”

“Yes, sir!”

The reward for the battalion commander and his troops, who risked their lives to stop King Carl VII from escaping, would likely be a mass round of promotions and bonuses.

After I sent the soldier out of my office, I opened the window.

As I sat on the edge of the sofa with a cigarette between my lips, Camilla lit it for me.

“This is driving me crazy. In more ways than one.”

I’d suspected that another faction might’ve gotten involved in the sudden escape,
but I didn’t expect to be right.

How should I put it?

I feel…

Relieved, yet royally pissed?

I’d already known for a long time that Carl VII was a brainless bastard with no mother to teach him better.

So I could understand why he stacked up a mountain of sins and then tried to flee, why he sent secret letters begging to be smuggled into another country.

But I didn’t think he’d actually go as far as to ask a foreign army to enter our land on his behalf.

Granted, an incident of this scale was bound to attract external interference.

I’d predicted that much.

But understanding and accepting it with my mind didn’t stop the rage boiling in my gut.
Even though it all makes sense logically, my heart still wants to beat that bastard to death right this second.

“If we press the Holy Kingdom for answers, they won’t admit anything, will they?”
“Of course not. What country in the world would boldly admit to meddling in another nation’s internal affairs?”

Even if we did interrogate the prisoners we captured and got testimonies, the Holy Kingdom would never acknowledge them.

They’d just cut their losses and blame it on some lunatics, shrugging it off like it was a rogue act.

They love to call themselves a morally upright religious state, but when you look at what they actually do, they’re no different from any other worldly power.

If we at least had some solid physical evidence, we could use it to blackmail them,
but of course, we don’t.

All the letters that proved the Holy Kingdom’s involvement were burned by the Queen herself.

“I can’t just let this go…”

However, just because we lack solid grounds doesn’t mean we can let this go.

Once you take the first hit, retaliation must always follow.

If we stay quiet now, they’ll use it against us later, Lecturing us about how we treated a king, or how we’re ignoring rights granted by their goddess.

They’ll try to harass us however they can, scheming to wring benefits out of the situation.

‘Crushing them outright would be the easiest.’

And the easiest method, of course, is war.

The Holy Kingdom’s military is weak for its size.

They haven’t seen a real war in decades, so if we attach a few auxiliary troops to our central army, we can easily win.

Honestly, we could probably sweep through the Kailas Kingdom within half a year
and raise our flag in their capital.

But just because it’s possible doesn’t mean we can actually do it.

Because of the power of their religion.

‘If we touch the Holy See, we’ll get excommunicated.’

The Goddess Church, followed by over seventy percent of the continent’s population.

In this era, where faith holds immense influence, being branded a heretic carries powerful consequences.

Even if it’s not like the old days, politically and diplomatically, it would bring a storm of complications.

Our people, too, wouldn’t want to attack the place where the head of their faith resides.

“This is annoying.”

I exhaled deeply with a sigh of smoke.

“Isn’t there some convincing reason we can use to sway the people and claim religious justification?”

…At that point, I had no idea.

I never imagined that such a justification would walk right through our door on its own.