A battle map can be found in the series description.
The march had begun.
— Laa-aa Risti, Tri-iii Froite...
— Gri-sia Sisbii Mru Bremedeaa...
The priests' song resonated over the heads of the soldiers.
Our forces included a considerable number of mass priests. There were no Saint-level figures, but countless male and female priests wove their melodies together, singing holy songs in clear, ringing voices. The tunes carried upward on sound amplification magic, descending from the sky like rays of sunlight.
With harmonies accompanying them, an army of sixty thousand marched. Jeremy rode up alongside me and spoke.
"Dant... I mean, Priest, I take it you won't be singing even a single verse?"
"Sorry, but I'm a complete failure when it comes to music."
I pouted my lips.
In truth, this was where the priest class proved most valuable in the military. Sacred hymns greatly boosted the soldiers' morale. They also helped prevent soldiers from running wild, and greatly reduced the incidents of plunder and debauchery that inevitably plagued any army.
Well, when you're marching under the blazing sun and hymns are ringing down from above, it's no wonder the soldiers feel the gods are blessing them. It probably helped with mental ailments like PTSD as well.
"Huh. I guess that saying about children resembling their parents is a lie too."
"What?"
"I'm talking about Daisy. She sings really well. They say it sounds like a spirit is singing."
Huh. Did the Hero sing well in the original game too?
"...She never sang anything like that when I was around, though."
"Well, obviously. Who would want to sing in front of the Priest?"
"Look at this peppy little minx and her silver tongue!"
"Pfft, haha."
Jeremy laughed. I could only growl in response. While the continent's greatest opera singer was belting her heart out, the only one enjoying a blowjob was yours truly. Honestly, when it came to art, I was worth a solid zero.
Jeremy jerked his thumb toward the back.
"But, what are you planning to use all those for, hauling them around everywhere like that?"
"Oh. The palisades?"
Our army was hauling close to a hundred cartloads of supplies. The donkey-drawn carts were loaded high with pre-assembled palisades. I'd ordered the militia to build them—these were, you could say, my secret weapon.
"In my estimation, there are two strategies Henrietta could employ. The first is—well, calling it a strategy is a stretch, but actually launching a full-scale engagement. In that case, we simply crush them with our overwhelming numbers and call it a day. But... the second possibility is that the Emperor could take the field personally."
"The Franck Emperor?"
I nodded.
"We deliberately set our sights on 'the Emperor's corrupt officials' rather than the Emperor himself, all to secure a just cause. The Emperor is supposed to be nothing more than an innocent victim—that's the angle we're playing. So what happens if the Emperor suddenly shows up right on the enemy's side?"
"Ah. That would tank our morale."
"It's unavoidable."
What I was worried about was the Emperor taking part in a speech duel.
In this world, when two great armies faced off, there was a custom of sending one representative from each side to deliver a speech. A speech duel could be summed up in exactly three lines: Surrender. No. Then die.
Because knightly combat power was so overwhelmingly strong, it seemed wars had naturally developed chivalrous procedures. It was effective for boosting our own morale and crushing the enemy's. If the Franck Emperor showed up as the speech duel representative at this point, it would put us in a seriously difficult position...
"Though, that would mean the Emperor seizes military command."
It was hard to imagine that Emperor Henri III, who had shown nothing but incompetence thus far, possessed any military talent whatsoever. In other words, the Emperor taking the field was a double-edged sword. He could dramatically lower our morale in the speech duel, but in the actual battle, he'd command with staggering ineptitude.
"Whether the Emperor takes the field or not—that alone will make Henrietta de Bretagne's intentions clear. If he does, then Henrietta wants an engagement, yes, but one that secures her a political victory. But if he doesn't..."
I trailed off, muttering under my breath.
"It would mean she's not employing any political or diplomatic maneuvering whatsoever—going purely for a war of annihilation. That's exactly why I brought all those palisades along. Just in case."
Our forces arrived at the St. Denis plains near Parisiorum. The Bretagne-Imperial alliance army had already established their headquarters there. By rough visual estimation, the enemy's total forces numbered less than thirty thousand.
Through scouting operations and intelligence gathering, we confirmed that the Emperor had not personally appeared among the enemy forces. There was no military standard bearing the Frank Emperor's insignia anywhere. Only the banner of the general acting in his stead fluttered in its place.
"So in the end, you're aiming for a war of annihilation, Your Majesty."
I glared at the enemy encampment across the plains.
Among the enemy ranks, there were several nobles who were secretly cooperating with us, and thanks to them, we were able to get a fairly accurate picture of the enemy's strength. Chances are that individuals feeding information to the other side were hidden among our own forces as well.
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[Imperial Army]
Commander-in-Chief: Queen Henrietta de Bretagne
Deputy Commander: General Gaspard de Tabarne (Acting)
■ 1st Army: Kingdom of Bretagne Forces. Commander-in-Chief: Queen Henrietta de Bretagne.
Infantry: 5,000 (mercenaries, conscripts). Cavalry: 8,000 (knights: 1,000).
■ 2nd Army: Frank Imperial Forces. Commander-in-Chief: General Gaspard de Tabarne (Acting).
Infantry: 2,000 (conscripts). Cavalry: 8,500 (knights: 600).
□ Total Forces: Infantry 7,000. Cavalry 16,500 (knights: 1,600).
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Using the intelligence we had gathered, we immediately convened a military council.
Among those who gathered outdoors were our commander-in-chief Duke Henri de Guise, Anna de Wit—a member of the Batavian Republic's Committee of Thirteen and commander of the Republic's forces—captains of the mercenary companies hired with coin from the Dwarven Tribal Alliance, and other prominent nobles and generals.
"It's confirmed. The Queen of Bretagne is aiming for a cavalry battle."
Deputy Commander Anna de Wit spoke. She was a half-elf—a trailblazing woman of mixed-race heritage who had risen to the highest echelons of the Republic's leadership. She was also a member of the Liberation Alliance, just like me.
"In terms of cavalry, we are at a disadvantage. The enemy's knight corps in particular poses a serious threat. Since the enemy desires a cavalry engagement, I don't believe we need to oblige them."
Anna spoke. She had an unusually rare sight in human society—she grew her hair in a vivid green. Beautiful even by half-elf standards, a few of the nobles were still gazing at the nape of her neck and her hair with slightly dazed eyes.
"I concur. We've already tasted the bitter cup against Bretagne's cavalry."
Commander-General Henri de Guise managed a wry smile. The man was a duke in his forties who had aged gracefully, distinguished by his impressively thick, well-groomed beard. He had been routed by the Bretagne forces in a previous battle.
"Had Her Majesty been present, it would have been a far more embarrassing affair. As Priest Jean Vole pointed out, the Queen of Bretagne seems genuinely intent on annihilating us."
"Yes. Whether it should be called recklessness or sheer overconfidence, she certainly comes across as bold."
"And yet, she has the strength to back that confidence."
Duke Guise stroked his beard as he spoke. The atmosphere conveyed a clear warning against complacency.
From what he had heard, while the Frank forces were being decimated, she was the only one who had managed to rally the remnants and retreat safely. She might not be a genius, but she was far from incompetent. As a commander-general, she could certainly be considered dependable.
"The cavalry should be positioned behind the infantry…"
"The key is to ensure there are no gaps among the spear phalanx."
The generals deliberated freely yet with restraint.
As expected, command of the Republican forces was split between Commissioner Anna and command of the aristocratic forces between Duke Guise. But there was one aspect that pleasantly defied my expectations: the amount of friction between the commanders turned out to be surprisingly small.
Duke Guise might have been second-rate as a general compared to Henrietta, but as a aristocrat, he was unquestionably first-rate. During the meeting, when some of the more belligerent mercenary captains and nobles loudly proclaimed—
"What exactly are we all deliberating over? We have sixty thousand men, and the enemy barely numbers twenty thousand. We have three times their forces, yet we're trembling in fear of a single girl—it's absolutely unbearable! Commander-General, sir! Grant me one division. I'll capture that wench and have her beheaded!"
—and made such bold boasts, Duke Guise responded coolly:
"Truly admirable courage! But I will continue to hold the cavalry in reserve. Cavalry engagements are not the only measure of a man's bravery. There is no need to lead the battle exactly as the Queen desires."
Duke Guise skilfully mediated between the commanders, demonstrating in the process that he had never won his dukedom through a game of cards.
"We shall adopt the battle plan devised by Priest Jean Vole."
Duke Guise spoke with conviction. I bowed my head respectfully.
The plan I had devised was surprisingly simple. The wooden stakes that had been painfully hauled over several days by donkey were to be driven into the ground in front of our lines like a wall. Behind this makeshift palisade, we would position our spear phalanx.
"I borrowed Captain Zepar's idea."
I smiled to myself.
In the Battle of Austerlitz, Captain Zepar had used wooden stakes and palisades to brilliantly defend against the knights' charge. I couldn't perform the same miraculous command as Captain Zepar — such a feat was only possible when the Demon Lord moved his monsters in perfect unison — but making use of wooden stakes was easy enough.
If a large number of wooden stakes were deployed to the front, the effectiveness of a cavalry charge would naturally plummet. The mounted charge that Queen Henrietta desired would lose all its power. And into the cavalry that had lost their momentum, we would thrust our long spears.
Typically, it is the smaller force that fights a defensive battle against a larger one. This time, it was the opposite. We, who possessed the overwhelming numerical advantage, were the ones choosing to hold a defensive position.
"The cavalry and knights that the Queen prides herself on will be stopped cold by our shields and lose their strength. When they are exhausted, we will launch a full-scale attack."
"Mm."
Duke Guise nodded at my explanation of the battle plan. The discussion among us had long since been settled, but he was deliberately making gestures for the sake of those around us.
In other words, a tactic devised solely to counter cavalry... A formation designed entirely with Queen Henrietta in mind.
Some generals grumbled that it was a coward's strategy, but Duke Guise, the commander-in-chief, had experienced the terrifying power of Bretagne's cavalry not long ago. Duke Guise would never tolerate rushing recklessly into battle.
I felt relieved. Our command was not incompetent. The elements that could lead to defeat had been eliminated.
Even the Plains of Saint-Denis, chosen as the battlefield, favored us. A river flowed along the left side of the plain. The right side was densely wooded.
The riverbank was soft ground, unsuitable for cavalry charges. The forest went without saying. In other words, the Plains of Saint-Denis were highly unfavorable for deciding the battle through mounted charges. There was nothing advantageous for Bretagne.
Duke Guise cried out boldly.
"Our forces hold the advantage in numbers, and we have secured the advantage in both terrain and tactics as well. I expect my generals to fight with the conviction that we shall be victorious!"
At dawn the next day, the Bretagne army began to move. The sun of Saint-Denis was rising.