Chapter 187 - Sitting Face-to-Face with the Marshal (10)
After the 6th Division's crushing defeat in the forest, morale among the Imperial Army stationed on the front line fell to dangerously low levels.
The 16th and 17th Regiments had barely lasted an hour before retreating, losing the entire half of the forest they'd managed to seize.
Worse yet, both the 16th and 17th Regiments suffered heavy casualties.
In these circumstances, it would be strange if morale were high.
"I told you we should have reinforced the front line instead of launching an attack!"
"Our orders were to secure the forest and break through the enemy's defenses! We're soldiers—our duty is to follow orders!"
The officers of the 6th Division argued heatedly, faces flushed with anger, desperate to shift blame for the appalling defeat.
The 5th Division, whose plan had been to consolidate their position after capturing half the forest, couldn't be held responsible and so remained silent throughout the meeting, keeping their lips tightly shut.
As the blame game dragged on, the commanders of the 16th and 17th Regiments grew increasingly anxious.
The commander of the 18th Regiment, who had been fighting outside the forest and only entered late, skillfully distanced himself from responsibility, making it look like the 16th and 17th would be left to shoulder all the blame.
Still, it wasn't necessarily the end of the world for them.
"That's enough, enough. We don't have time to fight over what's already happened. Besides, our opponent was Bertrand, wasn't it?"
Before the 16th and 17th Regiment commanders could be formally saddled with all the responsibility, the 5th Division Commander interjected, trying to settle the situation.
On the surface, it seemed like a mediator stepping in out of concern for the difficult battle situation—but in truth, it was a calculated political move.
"Right, the real problem was we just drew the short straw this time."
The 6th Division Commander grudgingly agreed through clenched teeth, backing up the 5th Division Commander's words.
Because of this, even though the 6th Division had seized half the forest, their halted attack meant that the 5th Division, which had stopped after that, would inevitably be credited for achieving a "half victory" against Bertrand.
It was, in fact, the 6th Division Commander who had criticized the 5th Division for being too passive and insisted on sending the 16th and 17th Regiments into the forest, specifically to steal the spotlight.
He had talked up the 5th Division's battle as a "half-failure" so much that his lips practically dried out.
But with the 6th Division's crushing defeat, everything the 5th Division had accomplished was erased in an instant, and the front lines had been pushed back so far that the entire war against Konchanya was now at risk.
This was a blunder so serious that the 6th Division Commander could very well be demoted.
So now, in order to salvage the situation, they needed to convince everyone that it wasn't really the 6th Division's fault; it was just that the opponent was too powerful.
Normally, this was a battle they should have been able to win.
But their opponent was none other than Bertrand Belliang Lafayette—the famous commander who managed to hold Bertagne Forest for two months despite a surprise imperial invasion.
And so, the 5th Division's achievement of pulling off a "half victory" against someone like Bertrand seemed almost suspiciously impressive.
Thus, there were understandable reasons to argue that the 6th Division's defeat wasn't just an ordinary blunder.
What the 5th Division Commander did—offering a helping hand to the 6th Division Commander while at the same time raising his own profile—was a carefully calculated political maneuver.
Since both could benefit from it, there was no reason not to go along.
"This is an urgent situation, so let's move on to discussing our next steps," the 6th Division Commander quickly shifted the topic.
There was nothing to gain by dragging this out any longer. He felt his pride take a hit, since he had to hand all the initiative over to the 5th Division Commander, but at this point, he had no choice but to swallow it.
"Hmmm… The tactics used by whoever commanded the Battle of Bertagne Forest are far bolder and more aggressive than I would have expected."
"But at the same time, they're incredibly cautious, too There's nothing to criticize here."
The Imperial officers had no choice but to groan as they analyzed the tactics Bertrand had displayed in this battle.
In the past, Bertrand's strategy in the Bertagne Forest was highly defensive—solid, but always staying within a set framework.
But this time, he moved his troops with the fluidity of a living organism to shape the battlefield as he wished, and then used audacious attacks to break through the front lines in an instant.
What's more, even after gaining the upper hand with those bold moves, Bertrand's trademark caution didn't waver.
He methodically took step after step to ensure that a single mistake wouldn't turn the tide against him.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a masterpiece.
Try as they might, the officers couldn't imagine a tactic better suited to the situation.
The Imperial Army's officers concluded that such a sudden shift could only be explained by Bertrand's exposure to Konchanya's military leadership since his defection.
There was simply no other way to account for such a dramatic transformation.
No one could possibly believe that the renowned Bertrand Belliang Lafayette, after losing to a mere seventeen-year-old company commander, had painstakingly reviewed that defeat hundreds of times, trembling inside and fearing he might never recover, and then tried to copy Ernest's tactics.
"And then there's the Star of Summer. If the reports from the survivors are true…"
"Hmmm…"
As if things weren't bad enough with Bertrand's tactics, there was also the daunting problem of the Star of Summer—Estelle Pouarrié.
Until now, not a single person had survived battle with Estelle except for— the Baltracher from the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment.
Because of this, nobody really understood just how formidable she was.
People had always assumed that the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment had exaggerated Estelle's strength to receive more credit for having beaten her.
But in this latest battle, Bertrand deliberately reduced the burden on Estelle, allowing her to fight less aggressively—which meant there were actually a few Baltrachers from the 16th and 17th Regiments who survived encounters with her.
They were able to paint a much clearer picture: unlike ordinary soldiers, the only thing they could really say about Estelle was that "she's unbelievably fast and strong."
Still, their detailed accounts convinced the Imperial Army that everything the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment had once reported—no matter how unbelievable it sounded—was all true.
In other words, everyone realized this defeat wasn't really due to a mistake by the 6th Division—rather, the enemy was just overwhelmingly strong.
That was a small relief for the 6th Division, but in the end, it was a despairing revelation for everyone.
Just dealing with either Bertrand or Estelle alone would have been difficult enough, but these selfish bastards had teamed up—Bertrand smashing through at the top and Estelle cutting people down at the bottom.
They couldn't outmaneuver Bertrand tactically, so they had to use Baltrachers in small skirmishes to try to gain the upper hand.
But thanks to Estelle, those Baltrachers ended up dying one after another.
No matter what they tried, it was impossible.
Honestly, calling them a pair of honorless sons of bitches would almost be too generous.
"So."
Because everyone now properly understood just how terrifyingly strong their opponents were, the same question echoed in all their minds.
The 5th Division Commander, who had been sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed, uncrossed his arms, leaned forward onto the table, and spoke up.
"13th Regiment Commander, how did you even manage to win?"
The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.
Even when the 16th and 17th Regiments teamed up to form a unified front, they couldn't even lift a finger against the enemy and suffered a crushing defeat.
So how on earth did the 13th Regiment manage to pull off multiple victories against both Bertrand and Estelle?
"..."
Levin, who had sat quietly throughout the meeting with his typically cautious demeanor, now realized he was in real trouble.
But that realization didn't change anything—there wasn't any way for him to escape this situation.
So, as he always did, Levin decided to simply tell the unvarnished truth.
He began talking about the tireless efforts of his subordinates, who struggled and fought directly on the field against the enemy.
Levin was a man of consistency.
He wasn't the kind of wavering man who changed his attitude based on the situation.
So, Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann, the 1st Battalion Commander of the 13th Regiment, couldn't really complain about the heavy responsibilities that would soon be thrust upon him.
If he pulled off this assignment successfully, he'd become the fastest man in Imperial Army history to be promoted from Lieutenant Colonel to Colonel.
Even if that was never something Soren had wanted.
For Soren to shift the responsibility—or rather, to claim the credit—he would need a suitable scapegoat.
But Captain Ernest Krieger, who had actually pulled off the difficult plan and turned it into a success, was simply too young and lacked the necessary experience.
So, Soren would have to shoulder all the responsibility—or rather, all the glory—himself.
Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann.
I'll leave the rest to you.
Levin thought that to himself as he pictured Soren's doll-like face afterward, broken when his safety net was destroyed.
When everyone is suffering because of the war, who are you to try to slip away and enjoy all the rewards by yourself?
No, you'll get a leash slapped on you and be worked like a dog on the battlefield.
Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann.
Be a hero.
After the 6th Division was utterly defeated in the forest and retreated, the 5th Division—which had been hammering Konchanya's defensive line—also had no choice but to abandon their attack and pull back.
Fortunately, Konchanya didn't assault the withdrawing Imperial Army and let them leave without incident.
So, after retreating and reorganizing his company, the very first thing Ernest did was check on the fate of his friends.
"They say the formation was completely broken and everyone scattered, so they still haven't figured out the number of casualties."
"..."
But the defeat of the 16th and 17th Regiments in the forest had been so catastrophic that the troops had dispersed in all directions, making it even harder to assess casualties.
No matter if they were nobles or officers, finding someone in this chaos was no easy task.
"Damn it. That little brat Marie—don't tell me she fought the Star of Summer?"
At this point, no one cared about the fate of Marie Fiders, the Aeblonian girl.
So Ernest couldn't give Robert an answer to his worried question.
In his heart, he wanted to rush out to the makeshift frontline on the edge of the forest and check on the fate of his friends and Marie himself.
But even though the battle had stopped and they'd pulled back, with enemy forces still in front of them, doing something like that would be considered desertion.
Unable to do anything, troubled by the situation, Ernest was so distracted that even when the 1st Battalion Commander Soren returned with a deathly pale face after being summoned by Levin, the 13th Regiment Commander, he didn't immediately grasp what was going on.
"The 13th Regiment is going back into the forest for another battle."
"..."
"And once again, our 1st Battalion will lead the way."
The 13th Regiment was being sent back into the forest, now completely controlled by Bertrand, with a nearly impossible mission: to push back the front line and reclaim even half the forest.
And naturally, the spearhead would be the 1st Battalion, the 5th Division's elite force that had already won multiple victories against Bertrand and Estelle.
"Heh heh, we win a battle and some other guy wrecks everything, then we fix it and someone else ruins it again. I know a soldier's job is to fight when there's a war, but I have no idea just how much they think they can get out of us. At this rate, we'll keep doing this damn dance forever until we're all dead."
"3rd Company Commander. At least say things like that where people can't hear you."
When Andersen let out a bitter laugh and spoke caustically, Hans glanced at Soren and cautioned him.
It wasn't that Hans was telling him not to say those things at all—just to say them out of earshot—which made it obvious to everyone how fed up Hans was too.
"The tides of battle have already shifted completely."
Exhausted from racing around the battlefield under enemy shelling and commanding his soldiers just moments ago, Ernest spoke while pressing his throbbing head.
"Count Lafayette isn't someone to take lightly. If we've been pushed back this far, it's already over."
"You think I don't know that?"
When Ernest spoke the undeniable truth, Soren, usually calm, responded more aggressively than usual.
Bertrand had entrenched himself in the forest and held out, but after losing half the forest to the 13th Regiment's tactics that twice turned the tables, he managed to reclaim it in a single battle by crushing the 16th and 17th Regiments.
Now the 6th Division was barely holding a meaningless line on the forest's outskirts; that front line had no real significance, since a commander like Bertrand would never allow the enemy to penetrate any further.
Every commander knew this—1st Battalion Commander Soren, 13th Regiment Commander Levin, as well as the 5th and 6th Division Commanders.
In fact, even John the Sixth, a simple country farmer recruited into the 1st Platoon of 2nd Company, 1st Battalion just three days ago, could look at how things were going and immediately think, "Uh, this looks really bad."
Everything was blatantly going wrong.
"You think I volunteered for this? I'm only doing it because it's an order—what choice do I have?"
"..."
The reason the 1st Battalion had to carry out such an impossible mission was, of course, simply because, as soldiers, they had no choice but to obey orders handed down from above.
Having lost the Dream of the Honeybee, Soren now had to throw himself directly into yet another plan doomed to fail, risking his life all over again.
Gone was his usual composure; despair overwhelmed him, and he seethed with frustration.
Yes, Soren would have to personally enter the forest again and lead from the front.
This plan demanded the full brilliance of Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann's dazzling leadership—like the noonday sun, too bright to be hidden by the mere hand of any lowly officer.
The officers glanced nervously at Soren, noting how unlike himself he seemed.
The situation looked grim, yet some couldn't help but nurture a bit of hope in response to Soren's charged emotions.
"Battalion Commander Sir, the higher-ups probably realize this is going to fail anyway," Andersen said in a quiet voice to Soren.
"Why not take it easy, get hit softly, and let it fail in a way that doesn't hurt too much?"
As Andersen said these blatantly un-soldierly words, Ferdinand scowled fiercely, about to protest.
"Ferdinand."
"But this—"
"Shh, shut up."
"…."
But Ernest didn't leave Ferdinand—labeled a troublemaker—unattended, not in this situation.
After all the headaches Ferdinand had caused, Ernest found himself cutting him off without even meaning to.
Ferdinand still looked like he wanted to speak, his lips trembling, but then memories of losing a dear friend came flooding back, and he shut his eyes tightly and held his tongue.
Seeing Ferdinand silenced by Ernest's preemptive strike, the officers of the 1st Battalion clenched their fists and silently cheered.
With the biggest obstacle—Ferdinand—shut up, all they had to do was persuade Soren now!
"That's not possible…"
But Soren could only feel utterly defeated.
Soren rubbed his rough hands over his face in distress.
"What? Why not, sir? Don't tell me the Regimental Commander is planning to lead this operation himself?"
Hans asked in alarm.
If Levin wasn't personally stepping forward, then their 1st Battalion Commander, Soren, could potentially bow out and lay low.
"…Just accept it—you heard me, it's not happening."
Saying out loud that he couldn't back down because of the overwhelming attention lavished on "Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann, whose nobility shone like the sun, wisdom drifted like the clouds, and valor struck like thunder" was simply too humiliating for Soren to admit.
Looking at Ernest—the main character of the "Myth of Captain Fox"—Soren couldn't help but painfully reconsider his own actions in the past.
Maybe all of this was punishment for Soren's despicable act of betrayal—unilaterally dissolving the Beekeepers Alliance and sending Ernest to the vanguard of the 1st Battalion.
But the punishment wasn't falling on Soren alone; the victim, Ernest, was suffering right along with him.
Because in this situation, putting any company except Ernest's 2nd Company at the vanguard would seem even stranger.
Honestly, it was such a complete mess that even sighing felt pointless.
They'd been given the order to retake the forest, but no attack was launched right away.
This time, the entire 5th Division would be thrown into the woods, with the 13th and 14th Regiments first deployed to the front line.
The 6th Division, which had barely been holding the line on the forest's outskirts thanks to Bertrand's disregard for orders, now hurriedly withdrew.
"…Damn!"
"Because of this foolish act, again…."
And then he realized that two of his friends from the Imperial Military Academy had lost their lives in the chaos.
The formation had completely collapsed, and with everyone retreating in total disarray, there was no way to know when, where, or how they had died.
Naturally, not even their bodies could be recovered.
"I heard Marie made it back alive. She fought the Star of Summer herself, but apparently returned without any serious injuries."
"That little brat! She stopped listening to orders just because she got promoted to Senior Captain!"
He'd also heard that Marie had come back safely.
She'd pushed Balt to her limits and collapsed from exhaustion, then was nearly strangled to death by Estelle.
Strangely, Estelle hadn't killed her but let her go.
Most people thought Estelle spared Marie out of guilt because she was too young, but Ernest, who understood Estelle a little better, knew that couldn't be the case.
Estelle was half-mad from hatred.
If you were in the Imperial Army—even a child—she'd kill you without a second thought.
No one could say why Estelle let Marie live, but at least Marie came back alive, and that was a blessing.
"I'm going to give her a good scolding next time I see her."
"Yeah! Make her study mathematics!"
"That's not a punishment, that's a reward."
"You lunatic."
They threw around that kind of silly talk, trying—at least for a moment—to comfort their troubled hearts.
Of course, this grudge would never be forgotten.
Because of Bertrand and Estelle, he'd lost another friend—two, this time.
Now, of the friends from the Imperial Military Academy who had once shared his company and camaraderie, only half remained alive—thirty in total.
Twenty-seven had died trying to break through Bertagne Forest, Georg had fallen in the woods in front of Lanosel after that, and two more had died in the previous battle.
Ernest, who used to sprint through the forests as if they were his own backyard, now saw the woods only as a hell where the rain never stopped.
In any case, the 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment was now forced to hold a meaningless line in the forest, facing off against the Belliang Army.
They were to endure like that until the 7th Division could send reinforcements.
"The Fox has come crawling back again... Just like a cockroach."
Upon hearing that the 13th Regiment had been assigned to such a pointless position on the forest's edge, Bertrand turned pale with dismay.
This time, he had made thorough preparations, so as not to leave a single opening—and as just a company commander, there was no way he could reverse the battle situation on his own.
Even so, the moment Bertrand realized Ernest was there, a cold shiver ran down his spine, as if hundreds of cockroaches were crawling over his entire body.
"This battle has already been decided before it even starts. There's no way we lose this time. We're going to win, no matter what."
Bertrand kept repeating those words to himself, trying desperately to shake off his fear.
It wasn't reckless bravado, nor was it some kind of self-hypnosis.
This time, they really would win.
There was no way they could lose this fight.
Even if the line was breached and thrown into chaos because of Ernest, Bertrand had crafted every plan with meticulous care so they could win in other areas and secure victory overall.
Ernest was only a company commander.
No matter how fierce his actions, his influence would be limited to, at best, the scale of a battalion.
While Ernest was busy skirmishing in those "minor engagements," Bertrand intended to claim victory in battles at the division level.
So, Bertrand's plan was to lure Ernest in and tie him down by sacrificing an entire Belliang battalion—precious soldiers who were, in effect, his own lifeline—just to keep Ernest occupied, never fighting him directly, but running away.
Bertrand knew if he fought Ernest, even a hundred times in his own domain, he would lose a hundred times.
So he swore never to engage on Ernest's terms.
After all, facing a tornado head-on, even a small one, was utter foolishness.
The only smart move was to flee before it hit, or if there was no time to run, to lie flat and wait for it to pass.
"Be satisfied with that little victory and go back, Captain Krieger."
Bertrand whispered toward Ernest, who must have been somewhere beyond the woods.
In truth, it might have been a prayer.
Damn that accursed little fox.
Just get out of my way and disappear. Please.
Whether by some miracle his desperate prayer reached a god that didn't exist, the shadow cast before Bertrand by Company Commander Ernest Cockroach Krieger, the Fox, vanished along with the radiance.
But it wasn't in the way Bertrand had hoped.
"…Withdraw?"
"Yes…"
"…My God! Are they out of their minds!"
It seemed that what erased Ernest's shadow wasn't radiance, but the flash from the muzzle of a gun pointed right at Bertrand's head.
Bertrand, who had been facing off against the enemy, fully prepared and waiting for battle, was so stunned by the order from the Konchanya Army to withdraw and hold the defensive line that he nearly threw propriety aside and blurted out the crude curse his soldiers used—"Shit!"
Even after being outmaneuvered twice by the 13th Regiment and losing half the forest, Bertrand had not lost hope.
He believed that, if he just held his ground, the Imperial higher-ups would eventually hand him the advantage, and everything unfolded exactly as he expected.
But as Belliang royalty, Count Lafayette, and supreme commander of the Belliang Army, Bertrand had never imagined—not even in his wildest dreams—that he would end up being driven out this way.
The truth was, there was no shortage of people who wanted to rein in Bertrand to prevent him from gaining too much influence in Konchanya by achieving major victories in this battle.
The nobles of the Konchanya Central Political Sphere who heard the news, various lords, and even soldiers fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with him on the front lines were all wary of Bertrand's growing influence.
So, they seized on the fact that he'd lost half the forest to the 13th Regiment in the first battle, and that even after pushing the 6th Division to the forest's edge, he had dragged things out without finishing them decisively.
Using those points, they aimed to undermine Bertrand and diminish his achievements.
Instead of withdrawing immediately, Bertrand sent a courier explaining in detail why he absolutely could not retreat right now, pleading for his orders to be reversed.
It wasn't about clinging to his accomplishments, but a truly desperate request.
If Bertrand were to pull back now and the Empire took the forest, Konchanya could end up just like Belliang.
If that happened, there would be no chance for the Belliang Revival.
They had to stop the Empire here, no matter the cost.
However, the soldiers on the Northwest Front Line, who knew well that Bertrand hoped to secure too much influence within Konchanya through a major victory, had no intention of giving him any more chances.
Bertrand's request was summarily ignored.
He was in no position to mock Krieger.
To lose a battle they had already won, all because of such a foolish reason!
Bertrand, whose position was already precarious, had no choice but to obey orders and withdraw, even though he could clearly see that retreating would mean certain defeat.
He let out a deep sigh, mocking himself for his situation.
And of course, if the Belliang Army in their red uniforms withdrew and the Konchanya Army in their yellow uniforms took up positions in the forest, there was no way the Empire wouldn't notice—it's not like they were blind.
"Hey! Bertrand's gone!"
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yeah! It's true! They've pulled out and Konchanya's taken their place!"
"Yes!"
"Woohoo! We're saved!"
"Hahaha! Damn fools! Did they think we were pathetic suckers just because Bertrand gave us trouble?"
Hearing the news, the Imperial Army burst into a festive mood, celebrating as if they'd already won before the battle had even begun.
"Fools! They don't even realize it was Bertrand who kept them afloat—and now they've just opened the gates with their own hands!"
Even the usually cautious and serious Levin, after triple-checking through the Rangers and hearing that Bertrand was now stationed at the hilly area's defensive line, jumped up with a beaming smile and cheered in relief.
Then, recalling how his own 13th Regiment had managed to win a battle and yet had still been forced to retreat in the same way, Levin quickly regained his composure.
The same was true for the other officers as well.
The 6th Division Commander, in particular, went through a period of deep self-reflection because of this incident.
A skilled commander had twisted himself in knots to salvage a doomed battle and somehow turn it into a draw, but politics demolished it all—nearly costing them not just the momentum of the war, but also their control over the Belliang Army.
If they'd just left things alone, it never would have come to this.
This was a lesson that should be etched into their bones and never forgotten.
It was as if they were in a contest to prove who could act more like an idiot, fighting by cutting off their own limbs and throwing them at the enemy.
If you realize this and still make the same mistake again, you might as well replace what's sitting on your shoulders.
The Imperial Army, convinced that Konchanya would fight them in the forest—a place where their crude infantry couldn't even use cannons—had already decided they'd won, before the fight even began.
All they had to do in the next battle was seize the forest completely and hold their ground.
Then the enemy wouldn't dare approach the forest where the Imperial Army was standing watch—not even Bertrand himself!
Konchanya would have no choice but to pull their defensive line back, and since the Empire had no desire to keep fighting, that would bring the 2nd Corps' battles to an end.
"We've won! The war is over!"
So, while the outcome of the Empire's Eastern Front Line was still unclear, the war along the Western Front Line was racing toward its end.
And the decisive battle that would determine that ending was about to unfold—without the greatest genius strategist of this war, Bertrand Belliang Lafayette.