Chapter 421: Column Dissolves

With weapons advancing all the time, a battlefield choked with smoke, and shooting going on right under the enemy’s nose, hardly any infantryman could keep his wits about him. Most tactics amounted to firing a few times and then charging straight in.

Otherwise, the line itself could not be held.

It was probably easier just to charge and fight.

That was why far more infantrymen died from a blade in the back than from a bullet. Perhaps what made Napoleon’s army so formidable was the fanatical loyalty his men felt toward him.

I wanted to build an army that strong myself. Not a question of efficiency, but a unit with the mental fortitude to hold together in any situation. Of course, in front of a machine gun all of that would count for nothing.

"We’ve brought in the enemy commanders."

At last, Anton returned with prisoners and spoils.

The highest-ranking commander among the captives was forced to his knees before me.

"We’re mercenaries! Please honor the Mercenary Convention!"

"The Mercenary Convention, is it? And who is your employer?"

"That’s..."

"The Mercenary Convention only applies when there is an employer. Men who attack without one, like you lot, are usually called bandits, not mercenaries. The convention won’t protect you now that you’ve become bandits."

"We’re mercenaries! We’re no bandits!"

The Mercenary Convention counted as international law, a treaty meant to protect captured mercenaries. Monarchs across Europe recognized it, so it carried real weight.

But the line between bandit and mercenary was admittedly blurry, and in the early days more and more men invoked the convention indiscriminately. A strict standard was therefore set: whether or not there was an employer.

"My lord! Please honor the Mercenary Convention!"

"Anton, these men are bandits. Strip them of all their gear."

"Understood. I’ll confiscate everything but their underwear."

"You can’t do this! This is a violation of the convention!"

The mercenary commanders were dragged away, wailing about treaty violations. From now on they would be classified as captured bandits and stripped of everything they owned. The horrors of Ladwig must not be forgotten.

Had I not moved against them, Vintenheim would have suffered the same fate. Mercenaries earn respect only when they have an employer. Otherwise, they are no different from bandits.

I would put them to work on the construction sites to fill Vintenheim’s labor shortage. Leonardo and Markus would be thrilled. They had just been handed a supply of heavy laborers they could work into the ground without a shred of mercy.

"Twelve dead, five seriously wounded, and twenty-four lightly wounded."

"Distribute gratuities for the dead and the seriously wounded."

There were no deaths among the gunners. The pikemen, who had fought hand to hand, took the heaviest losses. The gunners’ injuries amounted to little more than hands scraped raw from reloading and minor burns.

The duchy army had fought for me, and such dedication could only be repaid with generous rewards. That way the men would not grumble about having to fight under a prince from another region.

Though I was related by marriage to the War Minister’s family, the duchy army was strictly a separate organization.

It was stationed in Rosenheim on the justification of helping stabilize the territory, and unlike other princes who tried to use its soldiers for free, I shared the cost of that posting with the Military Department.

So Michael and my father-in-law could send support without hesitation whenever I requested a deployment, with no need to worry about how the grand duke might take it. Even in the eyes of other nobles, the process was entirely legitimate.

"How does it feel to win your first battle?"

"Honestly, I nearly wet myself."

Even Oscar, who had fought bravely at the Battle of Feuzen, could not help being tense this time. Taking a unit of raw recruits against an enemy several times its size was madness, after all.

But he said the combination of firearms and pikes had produced tremendous synergy, and that thanks to the steady work of the experienced pikemen, the gunners had been able to reload calmly, with far less panic than anyone expected.

"And knowing you were behind us, Master, was very reassuring."

"Then I suppose I’ll have to keep standing behind the men so they fight well."

Am I supposed to play the part of a totem?

Hmm, that borders on blasphemy. Better not say it out loud.

Peter, having seen firsthand the firepower of the gunners he had doubted, now recognized how well pikemen and gunners worked together. He said he had been deeply impressed by the way the mercenaries dropped in droves during that final volley.

"My lord, we need consistent coordinated training."

"And what became of the commander who was most skeptical of that tactical training?"

"To my shame, I doubted the gunners’ capabilities. But now that I’ve seen their power for myself, it’s urgent that we shore up the weak points and restructure the unit so we can operate on a larger scale."

I had only introduced the concept of tercio tactics. Running a unit according to those tactics was ultimately up to its commanders, so it was crucial that Oscar and Peter build experience of their own.

"Personally, I’d love to have you. Any interest in joining me once you’re discharged from the duchy army?"

"I’m grateful you think so highly of my abilities, but I’m content with my post as a duchy army commander."

"I see. The offer stands, though, so if you ever want to come over, just say the word."

I had no intention of forcing him. Still, if the population grew enough later on for me to organize pikemen of my own, I planned to recruit him in earnest then. For now, simply maintaining the gunners was a strain, so there was nothing more to be done.

Caw! Caw!

Crows and vultures that had not been seen all winter already filled the field, drawn by the scent from who knows where. There was nothing to be done about leaving the near-naked corpses where they lay.

The ground was frozen solid in the bitter cold and could not be dug, and the men wanted to hurry back to Vintenheim to thaw out their stiffened bodies. So we finished clearing the battlefield and returned.

The soldiers marched with a spring in their step.

The laughter never stopped, and pride showed on every face.

The men who had been shaking hard enough to wet themselves before the battle had turned into seasoned soldiers. And now that the Streit Gunners had risen to E-Rank, their abilities had improved accordingly.

As word spread that the lord’s army had won, the people poured out into the streets.

"Hooray!"

"Our lord has won!"

"Streit! Streit!"

The people, who had been consumed with worry at the news of the invasion, gave the returning army a fervent welcome despite the cold. Young women rushed to the soldiers, competing to kiss their cheeks or tuck flowers into their clothes.

The column had dissolved into chaos before anyone knew it, but I simply ordered the men dismissed where they stood. New couples, swept up in the moment, might well spring up like mushrooms after rain.

Beort approached me.

"My sincere congratulations on your victory."

"Thank you for holding Vintenheim while I was away."

"My hardship is nothing compared to what you endured out in that cold, my liege."

"We each played our part. Don’t dwell on it."

While I was out on the battlefield intercepting the enemy, Beort had kept Vintenheim calm and steady, so all was well both inside and out. That was what had let me go into battle without a care.

Strategy comes down to how well each man performs the role he is given. Beort still felt guilty about not being at my side, but the day would come when he understood his own role.

"Oh dear, it seems I’m far too late."

Viktor and Drek, who had been patrolling all of Rosenheim with the main force of the Gale Knights, joined us. Viktor marveled that we had beaten the enemy with nothing but gunners and pikemen, without any help from the Gale Knights.

"Your military genius shines brighter by the day, my liege."

"Don’t flatter me. It’s thanks to the men who stood and fought without fear."

"And isn’t all of that ultimately your doing, my liege?"

Hmm, my father’s friend is laying it on thick.

Drek regretted missing the battle.

"I’ve learned how to employ cavalry effectively, and it’s a shame I had no chance to put it into practice."

"I’ll look forward to your efforts in the next battle, Sir Drek."

I commended the men who had hurried back and broke out meat and drink for the victorious warriors. But the feast was held not in Vintenheim, but in Britz, where the saltpeter farm was.

Because Markus had insisted on it.