Chapter 21: Civil War Era - The Battlefield of Lafayette (2)
In the Kingdom of Francia, the northern plains of Nivernais.
"Damn these wretches..." King Louis muttered under his breath in the command tent.
Already embarrassed at the Estates-General he had convened, where the commons, the Third Estate, had the audacity to demand more representatives due to their larger numbers, King Louis was grinding his teeth in frustration.
How dare these lowly commoners demand equal rights with the nobility and clergy? Was such a notion even conceivable?
His anger, barely contained, was further inflamed by a letter that arrived. It began with flowery, verbose, and polite phrases, wishing him divine blessings on his accession to the throne. The crux of its message was simple yet provocative:
'Congratulations on your ascension to the throne, but it seems the kingdom is on the brink of ruin. Why not make a grand decision to end this civil war? In doing so, we would honor your mercy with financial support. However, if Your Majesty wants to continue the civil war and purge half of the kingdom's nobles, we may be forced to make a decision that goes against Your Majesty's will.'
It was a letter signed by the Countess of Aquitaine, the Count of Anjou, and other noble families who had remained neutral in the civil war.
Essentially, a veiled threat that these neutrals might join the enemy if the war didn't cease.
"Damn them, all traitors. They should all be swept away..."
Bogged down in debt, effective governance was practically impossible. For King Louis, who went to war with the help of the Abyss Corporation, the option of ending the civil war was not something he could consider in the first place.
Fortunately, a vassal brought some much-needed good news.
"Your Majesty the Great King, it is said that the enemy has divided their forces into three. Duke Lorraine leads 4,000 soldiers against Duke Orléans, the Young Duke Lafayette with 1,000 against Duke Brittany, and the 'Blue Knight' is trying to stop His Majesty with an army of 5,000."
After receiving the report, King Louis finally smiled in satisfaction.
"Duke Lorraine, ever cautious, and the Blue Knight’s arrogance knows no bounds.
They think they can stop me with a mere 5,000 men? Ha!"
“Their foolishness is truly great, however, it seems that the Duke of Brittany’s forces was not able to disperse the enemy as much as expected, Your Majesty.”
"Hmm. That’s a little disappointing."
King Louis stroked his chin, feeling a twinge of disappointment.
Because of the deal with the Abyss Corporation that enabled the dispatch of as many as 20,000 troops, an attack on Lafayette had to be launched, but since King Louis had provided 4,000 troops, he expected to attract 2,000 at best.
"And what of our own talent? Have we no one to match the foolish younger son of Mirbo, a disgrace to the nobility, leading their forces?"
"It appears so, Your Majesty. None have stepped forward, save for the Lafayette family, who are directly affected."
"Hmph, a ragtag bunch. Send a message to the Duke of Brittany. Command him to crush these forces and thoroughly plunder the Duke's lands."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Though it was disappointing that they were only able to muster 1,000 troops, the Duke of Brittany's 4,000 would be more than enough to defeat the Young Duke and ravage his domain.
Right now, the Blue Knight is their primary concern. Fortunately, since Duke Lorraine has drawn a large force to the east, the troops King Louis has to face are barely half of the original number.
"Anyway, the key player isn't the foot soldiers; it's the Blue Knight."
In the Kingdom of Francia, a land of knights, the number of troops does not necessarily determine the outcome of a war.
No matter how numerous the ordinary soldiers are, a charge by the knights often concludes the battle swiftly.
Yet, the focus on troop numbers is not without reason. Generally, the number of troops is proportional to the number of knights included, especially since lord knights often serve as commanders.
However, this was an exceptional case.
King Louis turned his gaze to Stephan d'Artagnan, the commander of his royal guards, standing beside him.
He is the king's most trusted second knight, yet endlessly defeated due to being a contemporary of the Blue Knight.
"I trust you understand that we have no greater opportunity than this, Sir."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I am fully aware."
Even d'Artagnan could not match the Blue Knight alone. Throughout the civil war, the forces loyal to the second prince had to evade the Blue Knight's army, attacking only those forces without him.
But this time was different.
In the first place, the condition imposed by the Abyss Corporation, which provided funds to operate such a large army, was the fall of Lafayette.
While they emphasized the Young Duke, King Louis and his subordinates naturally focused more on the Blue Knight. To them, Lafayette was synonymous with the Blue Knight himself.
The 6,000 troops led by the Duke of Orléans to the east included almost no knights, serving only to divert the attention of Duke Lorraine's forces and knights.
King Louis, aiming to take down the Blue Knight, had summoned nearly all the knights remaining in the Kingdom of Francia to his main force of 10,000, preparing a staggering 300 knights for this battle.
It was a force gathered to confront the kingdom's strongest knight, amassed from the dwindling pool of knights due to the prolonged civil war.
With Duke Lorraine's usual cautious approach, this was a battle King Louis couldn't lose.
He smiled confidently, assured of his victory.
"If only I had taken such a decisive action at the beginning of the civil war. This time, I will undoubtedly bring down that damned Blue Knight. Without him, those traitors are as vulnerable as candles in the wind!"
***
Southern Plains of Berry, at the entrance of the Central Forests of Francia,
"This is somewhat surprising. They're not delaying but actually engaging."
Count Mirbo furrowed his eyebrows at the remark of the laid-back commanding general of the western front, Duke of Brittany.
Despite most of the 4,000-strong force being contributed by Count Mirbo and his vassals, the command was in the hands of Duke Brittany, a King's vassal.
Count Mirbo's gaze involuntarily shifted sideways, and his once-favored younger son, Damien de Mirbo, flinched and lowered his head.
If only that fool hadn't dragged the Mirbo family's honor through the mud, the position of commanding general of the southwestern army could have been his!
Regardless of Count Mirbo's dissatisfaction, Duke Brittany gazed admiringly at the enemy camp at the forest's entrance.
According to the intelligence, the forces following Young Duke Lafayette amount to about 1,000, but the troops stationed in front of them seem to exceed that number.
"Maybe around 1,500? That’s more than we anticipated."
"That seems to be the case, Your Grace."
Duke Brittany stroked his chin as he observed the troops, who had formed a long horizontal line a fair distance from the vast central forests of Francia. He then spoke up.
"Even so, our forces are overwhelmingly superior. But it's peculiar. They've set up their formation horizontally, turning their backs to the forest..."
While Duke Brittany maintained a relaxed demeanor, Count Mirbo felt nothing but frustration.
He needed to distinguish himself in this battle to restore the name of the Mirbo family in the eyes of the King.
"Let's advance, Your Grace."
"Hmm. Very well, let’s move forward a bit."
With the Duke's approval, the orderly 4,000-strong force began to advance across the plains.
As they drew closer, the weapons of Lafayette's troops, standing in formation without moving, became visible to the naked eye.
"Matchlocks in the center and pikemen on the flanks? Interesting. So they've positioned themselves with their backs to the forest to prevent our knights from flanking, maximizing firepower in the center with matchlocks?"
In Francia warfare, it's common for infantry to fight in the center, with knights and cavalry engaging on the flanks. The victors then strike the enemy's rear.
Thus, stretching their limited forces horizontally, with pikemen guarding the sides to prevent cavalry from attacking their rear, seemed a rational formation at first glance.
"Not bad, but it's amateurish."
For this formation to work, the pikemen at least must effectively halt the knights and cavalry. Can these pikemen, lined up horizontally, really stop the knights of Francia, who can break through bullets and spears?
"Perhaps they've positioned themselves with their backs to the forest to minimize being pursued by knights and cavalry in case of defeat."
Count Mirbo's comment was met with a shake of the head from the Duke.
"I doubt it. How many of a disorderly retreating force into the forest would survive? If that was their plan, they shouldn’t have engaged in battle in the first place."
While the two commanders were pondering, a blue flag rose high from Lafayette's camp.
"What could that signal mean?"
The mystery was short-lived. Successive explosions rang out from the highlands behind the forest.
Amidst the bewildered troops, a resounding blast accompanied the arrival of a round steel bullet, whizzing past the advancing royal army.
"...Artillery?"
But the second volley was not so harmless.
The steel bullet, unfortunately hitting a column of marching troops, tore through them with horrific sounds of snapping and breaking, wreaking havoc as it passed.
With subsequent third and fourth shots flying over and beside the marching army, the soldiers began to panic.
"Your Grace, the Duke! They're firing cannons from behind the forest!"
"I have eyes, I can see that."
Duke Brittany stroked his beard, contemplating.
"Using siege weapons to strike at troops..."
The frequency and sound indicated a limited number of cannons.
They wouldn't cause significant damage to an army of 4,000.
"Your Grace, a thin horizontal line like that, we could easily charge and trample over it!"
However, the psychological impact was significant, and Count Mirbo and his knights were getting increasingly restless.
"Tsk."
A charge would easily crush them, but he was reluctant to fall into the enemy’s trap.
Duke Brittany, known for his tactical acumen in the Kingdom of Francia, preferred an elegant battle, not one where he was manipulated by the enemy.
Above all, he didn’t want to squander the forces entrusted to him by the King, especially when the matchlock infantry lined up in a long horizontal row could inflict substantial damage.
Magic could neutralize the matchlocks - a little rain from the mages would render the gunpowder useless. After that, the losses will be minimal, so it is okay to charge.
"Send forward the mages who can manipulate water. Give those musketeers a dousing of-"
His command was cut short by another volley of cannon fire, two more shells crashing into his forces.
The Duke began to feel a rising irritation.
Count Mirbo was already grating on his nerves, feigning compliance while clearly resentful of his superior. Now, to be entangled by such a trivial enemy...
"...Show them what we've got."
"Yes!"
At the Duke's command, three robed mages stepped forward to prepare their magic.
But as if anticipating this, a knight on horseback suddenly dashed out from the enemy lines.
"What is he doing-"
Before he could finish, the mounted knight, wielding a bow, shot an arrow while galloping.
"Gugh-"
One of the mages, in the midst of chanting a spell, took an arrow to the throat, collapsing backward without a chance to even groan.
"Lafayette...."
The Duke recognized the emblem on the armor of the enemy knight. Not the Blue Knight, but Lafayette, the Young Duke.
Meanwhile, the Young Duke swiftly notched and loosed another arrow.
"Argh!"
The second mage, attempting to gather his magic for protection, was struck by an arrow imbued with a blue aura that pierced right through his magical defenses.
"Ahhhh"
"Your Grace, the Duke!"
One mage writhed in pain with an arrow lodged in his arm, while the remaining one ran off in terror.
"What are the archers doing!"
"The distance is too great, Count. We can't reach that far..."
"Hah!"
A knight resorting to archery, and that too enhanced with magic, picking off mages from a safe distance?
As if he had anticipated the Duke's move to target the musketeers with his mages?
He had read the Duke's strategy and wasted valuable magical assets.
Duke Brittany finally trembled with anger.
"Clever tricks..."
Then, another round of cannon fire roared.
One of the iron shots disrupted the formation again, and the Duke could clearly see the morale of his troops faltering.
"Your Grace, please give an order! We're just accumulating losses!"
"Order a charge! We can break through their weak line in one fell swoop!"
As the knights' patience reached its limit, Damien de Mirbo, Count Mirbo's son, who had been restlessly silent, spoke up.
"Your Grace! That Young Duke of Lafayette is exceedingly cunning and deceitful! Don't be swayed! There might be more troops hidden in the forest!"
"Silence! This is not your place to speak!"
The knights' clamor and Count Mirbo's angry shout only served to agitate the Duke further.
Duke Brittany, seeing the mages retreat into the formation, watched the Young Duke return to his own lines with a leisurely air.
Hidden additional troops in the forest for an ambush?
Stretching the troops in a long line to protect the flanks from attack, and then striking from the forest once the battle commences.
It's a plausible strategy.
The Duke narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the enemy's formation and the forest in the distance. Even with a knight's vision, it was challenging to discern the structure of the enemy's formation and the forest's interior from a distance.
As the Duke was lost in thought, another round of cannon fire sounded, and more shells flew in.
Despite the damage being insignificant in the grand scheme, the Duke could see the formation of his troops, gathered in columns, starting to waver.
The Duke was facing an unthinkable scenario: his 4,000-strong force being unilaterally attacked by a mere 1,500 troops.
Him, Duke of Brittany, a tactician renowned among the nobility, being bested by one deemed a disgrace to their class!
Finally, he lowered the visor of his helmet.
"Knights, gather! We strike the enemy in one swift move!"
"Your Grace, are you leading the charge personally?"
Though concerns were immediately raised, the Duke had his pride and reputation to consider. He couldn't hide behind the lines, especially with Count Mirbo subtly expressing his dissatisfaction.
"What do you take me for? I am also a knight of the Kingdom of Francia!"
"At once!"
As if waiting for this command, thirty knights, including Count Mirbo, quickly gathered around him, followed by the heavy cavalry.
"Hah! The young brat really knows how to provoke. We can't face His Majesty with more losses."
The young fool had forced a loss, provoking a charge, likely planning to attack from the flanks with troops hidden in the forest...
"I'll lead the charge with the knights and heavy cavalry at the center to split the enemy's formation. Infantry will cover the flanks, and keep reserves ready for any ambush."
It seemed they were considering a cavalry flank attack, but a frontal assault on a thin, stretched formation was a grave mistake.
Any ambush would be irrelevant; such a thinly spread line would collapse under a cavalry charge, unable to provide timely support.
"Your Grace, with respect, this could also be a trap by the enemy..."
"What kind of cowardly talk is that for a knight!"
"You really wish for death, don't you!"
Count Mirbo's son spoke up again, only to be rebuked by the knights and the Count.
Could that young brat have read all of his thoughts?
Duke of Brittany was infuriated at the thought.
"If you're so concerned, then take command of the reserves."
An order that stripped a knight of the honor of leading the charge.
Faced with such disgrace, Count Mirbo's face turned ashen.
Damien de Mirbo also went pale, but there seemed to be a hint of relief as he stepped back.
The cowardly behavior of the young man, coupled with the repeated booming of cannon fire disrupting the formation, pushed Duke Brittany's irritation to its peak.
Feeling his hand tremble as he gripped his lance, the Duke shouted.
"For the honor of the Kingdom of Francia, for victory to His Majesty! Advance!"
***
From the enemy camp, the sound of trumpets filled the air, and flags conveying orders danced ceaselessly.
I could see the enemy knights and heavy cavalry positioned at the center of their lines. As their infantry split, they charged towards our meager center.
Behind them, thousands of infantry, filling the horizon, followed in a massive surge.
The tension of the moment grew as the sound of hundreds of cavalry galloping and the accompanying vibration of the ground neared our formation.
Mounted on my horse and clutching a flag, I observed the sergeants in front of me, anxiously waiting for my command.
Not yet, not yet. We need to draw them in further.
I lifted my head to watch Duke Brittany and Count Mirbo’s banners leading a valiant charge of knights, believing this assault would collapse our formation in one swift move.
The pride and strongest force of the Kingdom of Francia, the knights, bolstered by their own magic, indiscriminately sweeping through pikemen and musketeers alike, were fundamentally the reason why the kingdom's tactics remained stagnant in an old era.
They were also why, despite being markedly behind and outdated compared to other nations, the common folk dared not raise arms against them.
"Young Duke!"
As the overwhelming might of the knights, now nearly upon us, caused confusion among the musketeers in the second line, a sergeant, unable to contain himself any longer, called out to me.
Responding to the moment, I raised the command flag in my hand.
"Open fire!"
"Fire!"
The guns of the soldiers, arrayed in a long horizontal line, spat flames, and the sound of gunfire spread like waves.
Despite the acrid smoke rising, only a few unfortunate cavalrymen at the forefront fell from their mounts.
The knights, their bodies and horses shielded by a pale blue magical aura, continued their charge unscathed.
I waved the flag left and right, but truthfully, there was no need for any signal.
Seeing the knights still charging undeterred despite the volley of musket fire, the terrified soldiers instinctively scattered to the sides to avoid them, no one waiting to be told.
The enemy's knights and cavalry, who had been charging with great vigor, belatedly discovered that after the soldiers had fled, there was a long, sharply carved wooden fence.
A few unlucky soldiers, too slow to escape, were trampled or cut down, but the cavalry, unable to slow down or change direction, ended up impaled on the sharp wooden fences, along with their horses.
"This meager obstacle won't stop us!"
However, Duke Brittany, Count Mirbo, and a few other exceptional knights demonstrated their prowess, splitting the wooden fence in half with their power-infused swords, showcasing their resilience.
Even with musket fire and fence, it was a struggle to merely halt the monstrous knights of Francia.
But the momentum of their charge was undoubtedly broken, and the knights and cavalry were now disorganized and clustered together.
That was enough.
Looking down at them, I tossed aside the flag in my hand and drew my sword high into the air.
Unlike the cannons firing from the highlands behind the forest, the ones I had strategically hidden behind the fence, never revealing their presence until now, were aimed at them, awaiting my command.
From this moment on, everyone would realize.
Even the symbols of the kingdom's old regime and oppression are merely flesh and blood humans.
"Lafayette, you, you fiend!"
The Duke, belatedly filled with rage, yelled out, but it was too late.
I watched the once seemingly fearless knights slowly, yet unmistakably, begin to falter as I lowered my sword.
"Fire!"
The artillerymen, lighting the fuse, plugged their ears and hunched over as the cannons roared, shaking the earth.
Responding to the overwhelming firepower, the canister shot loaded with scrap metal and gravel burst forth like a storm, engulfing the disorganized enemy.
That overwhelming force shredded everything - the knights' blind faith in their magic, their ornate armor, their warhorses, and their human frailties.
All were torn apart equally.
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