Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 79

“Hmph, the cowardly Edgar is unusually eager, isn’t he?”

A man tapped his fingers on the desk, each adorned with a ring made of magic silver. The reflected light from the rings swayed as if asserting their presence. While everyone else in and around the camp was clad in full armor, this man alone wore an embroidered robe, lounging casually on a chair that seemed out of place on the battlefield.

This man, Odilon de Meizenaf, gazed from his command tent covered in military banners at the two armies facing each other. Viscount Edgar had foolishly rejected the merciful offer extended by Odilon. Moreover, Baron Josh, a vassal of Edgar’s, was holed up in the supporting castle with his main forces entrenched at the base of the mine behind it.

“There are more soldiers than anticipated. It seems true that they have enlisted the aid of Highserk’s troops.”

According to the scouts that Odilon had, there were a total of 500 Highserk soldiers, all of them regulars, well-trained and better skilled than mere militia. However, they were still soldiers from a second-rate nation, easily identified by their mismatched spears and worn-out armors.

“They are just leftovers from a second-rate country.”

Odilon glanced at the troops he had brought with him. Thanks to ample funding, even the common foot soldiers were equipped with heavy, high-quality gear, and were well-organized, having been trained in disciplined formations based on regular soldiers. Even a mercenary group with two renowned titles, well-known even as adventurers, had joined the battle lines. It was obvious who the stronger side was without even having to look closely.

“Please, allow my unit the honor of striking first!”

“No, no, let my unit be the one to bring victory to Lord Odilon!”

Morale was high, backed by the difference in strength, and the vassals and retainers eagerly volunteered their services. While Odilon intended to give his direct subordinates and retainers a chance to distinguish themselves, he wanted to avoid unnecessary attrition. Fortunately, vassals and minor lords, enticed by the riches promised by the magic silver mines, had joined the military effort. Odilon had already decided who to appoint as the vanguard.

“Viscount Barnes Guvier will lead the vanguard. With 2000 men, including militia, he will take the supporting castle.”

“It’s an immense honor to be appointed the vanguard. I shall certainly capture that supporting castle!”

Although besieging the supporting castle and facing the enemy in a decisive battle with the remaining forces was an option, a large-scale conflict could result in the loss of his trained soldiers. Odilon planned to whittle down the forces in the supporting castle and defeat them in sweeps. It was fine to kill them all, or if they sent a unit to aid the castle, he could annihilate that unit along with the main force.

While Viscount Barnes rejoiced, the retainers who were excluded from the vanguard assignment frowned, to whom Odilon whispered softly.

“Your appropriate stage is still to come. Let them handle the tiresome task of the initial assault on the castle.”

The retainers smirked darkly, following Odilon’s lead. Despite differing motives, both armies were preparing to start the battle, preserving their main forces.

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The ones plastered against the castle walls watched the sprawling army below with bated breath. Amidst this tense atmosphere, Walm calmly counted the enemy troops. Naturally, he did not waste time counting each soldier individually. There were several methods to estimate an army’s size in reconnaissance; Walm knew of using skills for enhanced perception, but also methods involving creating a frame with hands or tools and estimating the total based on the count within that frame.

Those accustomed to the chaos of full-scale warfare could estimate numbers without physically framing anything, their brains processing the information naturally. Of course, they considered the possibility of errors and the existence of hidden troops in depressions or behind ridges.

“There seem to be over 1,800, maybe more than 2,000,” Walm concluded, finding the number reasonable.

The castle housed approximately 700 guards; preparing more than triple the defending force for a siege was logical. It was unclear whether this was due to exceptional scouting or a traitor within, but unfortunately, it seemed that the information from the supporting castle had been thoroughly leaked.

“Eh, are there that many?” Kuwen’s voice trembled with shock upon hearing Walm’s murmur. It was common to withhold total numbers from lower ranks to maintain morale. Currently, the true scale of the battlefield was obscured by the presence of friendly forces and the confines of the supporting castle, but the numerical disadvantage would become painfully apparent as the battle progressed.

“2,000 and there are still more in the back…”

“Keep your voice down. You don’t want to be scolded by the 100-man commander for lowering morale,” Walm advised.

The two hurriedly nodded and closed their mouths, looking like jerky, mechanical dolls. Walm had little experience in training newcomers in a warzone. His former partner, Jose, had been adept at this, but Walm’s method had always been to offer advice or rescue at the last moment. Now, he had no choice but to clumsily imitate Jose’s techniques.

“…Do you boys have hair down there?”

“Eh?”

The pair raised their voices in unison, baffled by the question.

“Eh, umm, well…”

“Yeah… Sort of.”

Their confusion was compounded by suspicion that Walm might have unsavory interests. Being slightly backed away from and treated as if he preferred men was not Walm’s intention.

“Don’t worry, I like women too. It’s just that you look so small and scared. I wondered if you were still hairless down there. So, it just shrunk because of fear, huh? Alright.”

Walm’s reassurance, though awkwardly following his old comrade’s style, was better than throwing empty words of comfort. Given the current disadvantageous situation for Viscount Edgar, Walm couldn’t afford to offer reassurance.

“We’re not scared!”

“We’ll give them a good fight,” protested Kuwen, while Karim quietly tapped the ground with the butt of his spear. Fortunately, the newcomers’ morale seemed sufficiently high, at least superficially. Walm’s attempt at humor, although not his usual style, had helped ease their tension.

“That’s great. But it will take about an hour for them to start their attack. They’re not eager to face our attacks either.”

“Eh? Why’s that?”

“Look over there. Not down there.”

Following Walm’s blatantly worded directive, the young soldiers looked where he pointed.

“They’re making something.”

“A big shield?”

“Right. They use shields or bamboo bundles to avoid long-range attacks. The shields are heavy and require two or three men to carry, but their strength is proportional to their weight. The bamboo bundles might look flimsy, but they’re filled with soil and devoid of nodes inside. They can stop stones, arrows, and even direct hits from moderate magic.”

Walm had relied on such defenses in previous sieges. They were the pride of inexperienced soldiers on the front lines.

“It takes time to prepare those, huh?”

“Yes, that’s right. As soon as they line up in the front and start advancing, we’ll have no more time to spare.”

Karim seemed somewhat proud, having figured this out on his own, while Kuwen appeared frustrated by his lack of insight. Walm shifted his gaze from the two back to the enemy. The lords of the three great nations, with their ridiculous wealth, had brought an array of amusing toys: shields, bamboo bundles, battering rams, and even small siege towers.

“No, it must be intentional.”

They must have previously measured the height of the supporting castle. Otherwise, their equipment matched the wall height too perfectly. Large siege towers were difficult to operate, their weight sinking into the ground and complicating transport. It was a wasteful use of resources, a thought that didn’t sit well with Walm.

“Ahh, fighting the wealthy is such a pain. It just makes you feel miserable.”

Walm muttered his inner thoughts, ensuring they were heard by no one around him, not even the two young soldiers.

 
Translator – Lyxxna