Chapter 16 (1/2)

Having expanded their war potential, the Royal Capital Liberation Army had gradually set about their strategy to gain total control of Belta. Reshuffling former soldiers of the Kingdom’s Army added to their forces, the participating soldiers in this strategy numbered 60,000. 20,000 guards were stationed at Antigua and Salvador. Their support from the citizens was plenty, and now that harvest time was over, goods were in abundance. The long-standing Altura became Supreme Commander and had carried out the encirclement of Belta Castle. She was constantly seen together with the soldiers, and this was also to show that her ideals were not lies.

First, she recommended surrender to David, the commander on the defensive. In exchange for the lives of the castle garrison and civilians, immediately vacate Belta Castle, she said. However, on the condition that only David, the man regarded as the main perpetrator behind the Tenang Atrocity, be put to proper trial.

David refused. He sent a violent hail of arrows in response to the Liberation Army surrounding them. Judging that there was no room for negotiations, Altura stepped forward to give the siege order to the soldiers. She unsheathed her treasured sword from atop horseback and turned its point towards Belta Castle.

“WE ARE RIGHTEOUS! BELTA CASTLE WILL FALL, AND THE HAMMER OF JUSTICE WILL STRIKE THE MAN BEHIND THE MASSACRES, DAVID! KINDRED SOULS OF THE ROYAL CAPITAL LIBERATION ARMY! FOR OUR DREAMS, PLEASE LEND US YOUR STRENGTH!”

“Victory For The Royal Capital Liberation Army!”

“Judgement Onto David!”

“Long Live, Princess Altura! Long Live The Liberation Army!”

The organized Liberation Army soldiers raised up their weapons and shouted in fervor. Their voices were intense enough to shake the heavens and probably circulated as fear inside the castle.

“ARMY, START THE ATTACK! VICTORY TO THE ROYAL CAPITAL LIBERATION ARMY!!”

“ALL UNITS ADVANCE-!! FORWARDDDDDDD-!!”

“CATAPULTS, BEGIN THE ADVANCE-!”

When Altura sent the signal to start the siege, the unit commanders all simultaneously gave their orders to advance. Infantry carrying shields held sandbags and rushed to the moat. As the drawbridge was raised, they first had to make a path. Siege towers would then send in soldiers to the ramparts, and battering rams would then hit the gates. This was the preliminary step to allow those siege weapons to get close. First, they would fill in the moat. Because Belta’s moat was both wide and deep with water, they needed a proportionate volume to fill it up.

To halt that, archers on the walls systematically lined up and assiduously shot arrows at the Liberation Army covering the ground like ants.

“DEFEND-! IT’S OVER IF THEY FILL UP THE MOAT! ABSOLUTELY STOP THEM!!”

“B, BUT THE NUMBERS ARE TOO DIFFERENT!”

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT AIMING! JUST SHOOT-! KILL THEM-!”

“DAMN IT-!”

The archers’ commanding officer frantically rebuked the shouting group members. They kept on shooting, and kept on shooting, but the Liberation Army’s numbers were endless. Moreover, the opponents did not keep letting themselves be attacked. Naturally, they were returning the volley from below.

And then the true threat: the catapults being hauled from behind. They originally belonged to the Kingdom’s Army, but at the river battle, they were seized by the Liberation Army. These powerful siege weapons that should have been pointed towards the enemy would be let loose on their own heads. While gazing at the giants rocks that were drawing nearer at a frightening speed, the archers’ commanding officer cursed his own misfortune.

“PREPARE THE CATAPULTS! TARGET: ENEMY’S WEST RAMPART!!”

“CATAPULT PREPARATIONS COMPLETE! TARGETING, ENEMY’S WEST RAMPART!!”

“START THE CATAPULT! FIRE-!!”

Giant stones that were heavier than humans collided with the wall. Stone and wall were smashed, and many archers were blown away.

“HIT CONFIRMED, LOAD THE NEXT SHOT HURRY-!”

Catapults were set up uniformly in front of every castle wall. Their stone supply was maintained due to the efforts of 500 men, and attacks were sporadically fired at the wall and inside the castle. These weapons had problems regarding their accuracy rate and rate of fire, but those weren’t important. That they had a long range and could perform a unilateral attack with no fear of counterattack were their great advantages.

It would be fatal if struck by these giant stones, and they flew everywhere, surmounting the castle walls. It would also inflict considerable, psychological burden, and the organization inside the castle could also be expected to be disrupted.

What was thrown were not just stones. Oil, garbage, corpses, Sorcery Mines, anything was fine. It would be great if they got a direct hit on the well, their source of water. The corpses and garbage would also be a source of disease. The besieged side would have no means to defend against that. If the enemy came out from the gates to destroy the catapults, that would be in accordance with the Liberation Army’s expectations.

Fynn was quietly watching the catapult offensive be repeated. As his unit was cavalry at its core, a siege battle was not a place for his activity. He could only pursue fleeing enemies and be guards for the catapults. His adjutant, Milla, addressed him.

“So we resorted to force in the end. It would be better if they just obediently opened the gates. There is no meaning in persisting here after all. Is a commander’s final duty not to save the lives of his garrison?”

“General David probably has something he calls honor. Though if it were me I would have immediately surrendered. Spare me the rain of rocks. To be crushed and flattened to death is no joke.”

He muttered while watching a rock sail through the air that was shot alongside an encouraging yell. Fynn had been promoted to Colonel, rewarded for his merit up to here. As he had worked his way up from being a private, he was the most successful man among the Liberation Army.

Though currently it was nothing more than an honorary rank, it could be thought of as a promissory note for future promotions. If Altura became the next Queen, he was already recognized to be the one who would probably carry on the essence of the rebirthed Kingdom. He was young, full of wisdom, and had real achievements. He was gathering enough popularity from the soldiers that he was right after Altura in fame. Fynn conducted himself appropriately too, and he was hailed as a warrior soldier and Hero.

“Colonel Fynn. Will they launch themselves at us do you think?”

“Do I think indeed. As their moat is filled, they are more and more likely to come. In such a case when they run into our firm siege, a hell is waiting, where our troops stationed in ambush slip behind them and cut off their path of retreat. ……I do honestly recommend that they surrender.”

“Be that as it may be, because Belta is a solid fortress, our side will have many casualties as well it seems. I believe it would not be unreasonable for starvation tactics here.”

It would take time, but if they cut off their supply of goods, Belta would fall without any fighting. Though, due to the supply they had in stock, it would probably take half a year before they would starve and admit defeat.

“Well, our Tactician, Sir Diener, did not think it as up to the task as a planless offensive. It is my guess that he hates conservative plans like starvation. He intends to put on display that we have enough war potential to make a castle capitulate in a short timeframe. …….Of course, I cannot assert that as unconditionally true. It is hard to understand what that man is truly thinking.”

The drafted strategies of the Liberation Army were predominantly created through Diener’s hands. Altura would agree to it and give the order to implement it. That was it. There were wicked rumors circulating around Diener, and Fynn didn’t have trust in him. Fynn didn’t think he would turn traitor, but there was no doubt that Diener would calmly throw away the lives of soldiers.

He was different fundamentally from Fynn, who had been drawn by Altura’s ideals, and the former general of the Kingdom Behrouz, who hastened to join seeing the misgovernment.

“……Those rumors, are they really true? For example the Rebellion—-”

There was a plausible rumor whispered between the generals–about the Tenang Rebellion being contrived.

There was no proof. But, everyone unanimously agreed that Diener, if it was him, would be quite capable of doing it. Their arrangements for after the Tenang Rebellion and Tenang Atrocity were too quick. That in half a month their sphere of influence had extended this far was all due to Diener’s ability. The rumor had jealousy and envy mixed in, but there was no smoke without fire.

Fynn cut Milla short, telling her to be careful with his gaze. It would be troublesome if she was heard by someone.

Diener’s proteges, his spies, were scattered everywhere in the Liberation Army. It was to guard against traitors in their midst. Everyone’s affiliations, birthplaces, and social positions were different. There were also people who previously earlier were soldiers of the Kingdom. Fynn understood that Diener was vigilant. ……That Diener’s vigilance was also near Fynn himself. That man trusted no one except Altura. What spurred Diener on to that extent? Fynn could not even imagine.

“—-Milla. Rumors are rumors to the very end. If one were to launch an accusation, one has to have a myriad of proof and facts. You ought to be careful about uttering suspicions of a Liberation Army comrade in the middle of a battle. There is nothing we have to worry about. We should just work solely for the realization of our ideals.”

“S, sir. Please excuse me. I misspoke.”

Milla unintentionally stiffened at Fynn’s forced smile. His eyes weren’t laughing, and they were only focused at his aspirations. Fynn had two sides to him, one as an innocent military man, and one ambitious for future promotion.

His adjutant, Milla, was serving him on top of understand that, but even so, she was pressured by his emitted spirit.

“……This is just me talking to myself, but I believe we do not have to do anything. There is only one fate for those who have sold their soul to the devil. He will surely not be able to escape from his doings. Death will simply devour him to his very soul, and he will be perpetually tormented in eternal purgatory.”

Fynn recalled the face of the Death God while muttering in a small voice–that female commander that he had once driven away. At Sulawesi Grand Bridge, her cavalry unit had killed a veteran army general, an acquaintance of his, and rampaged as they pleased. Most likely, she was still alive. That would not die so simply. She was probably sharpening her scythe in Belta Castle even now, waiting for an opportunity to prey upon them.

Fynn prayed for her to hurry up and die, before that scythe would reach his own neck.

—-Belta Castle, South-side Wall.

Stones continued to be thrown, and while showered by an intense volley of arrows, Schera was commanding an archer unit. Cavalry obviously had no role to play inside a castle, so everyone had dismounted and taken up bows.

Katarina was unabashedly exhibiting her proficiency in archery that she had engraved onto her body through training. Vander had also finally returned to his normal self and was commanding the soldiers.

Back to speaking of Schera, because she had never used a bow before, she was lining up small sickles that she had bought in advance from the town inside the castle. There were 100 in total. It would not be an exaggeration to say that she had bought all that there were. As for the money, it was borrowed from Katarina since Schera had already used all of hers up.

“……Major? What in the world are you planning to do with those sickles?”

Asked Vander with a quizzical expression, and Schera answered him with naked murderous intent.

“Want to know? This-!”

She threw it with absurd force that there was recoil. It stabbed between the eyebrows of a soldier who had gotten into the mood and was frolicking beside the catapult. Seeing their comrade fall down, the soldiers panicked. Schera threw in rapid succession. Seeing the sickles as if homing onto them strike the vitals of the soldiers, Vander’s breath caught in his throat.

“……Monstrous as always. What kind of brute strength is that?”