May 15th, Continental Calendar 1512.
The Imperial Army began crossing the most treacherous mountain range on the continent. Not all thirty thousand mercenaries had assembled yet. The mercenary captains suggested waiting about another month before marching.
However, Laura, who had been appointed supreme commander, shook her head.
"Where is your homeland?"
"Helvetica, of course, General."
"Precisely. We are heading to Helvetica right now. Do you need a guide just to get back home?"
Laura picked up a helmet and placed it on her head. She was wearing shabby, worn armor like an ordinary soldier. As punishment for having tortured Daisy of her own accord, Laura had been sentenced to serve in the ranks, and that punishment was still in effect.
"Relay this to the soldiers who haven't assembled yet! We meet in Lugano."
Lugano was a city situated at the far end of the Alpine mountain range. It was also the gateway from Helvetica to the Kingdom of Sardinia. As the mercenary captains stood there flustered and at a loss, Laura flashed them a grin.
"I come from the Kingdom of Sardinia—the very place you lot deride as sissies. If you cross this mountain range slower than me, you'd be too ashamed to call yourselves Helveticans."
With those words, Laura left the tent. She really did seem intent on marching the troops out right then and there.
The mercenary captains stared at each other in bewilderment. Even the dwarf and the elf, who normally regarded each other like sworn enemies, wore equally troubled expressions at this moment.
"This isn't exactly a picnic outing, you know."
"Will there really be no trouble with this kind of arbitrary mobilization..."
The captains glanced at me cautiously. For reference, I was participating in this expedition as the Habsburg Empire's plenipotentiary ambassador. Laura would lead the troops to annihilate the enemy, and I would handle the aftermath. That was how the roles were divided.
Of course, in terms of court rank, I outranked Laura. Since the mercenary captains were made up of dwarves and elves, they instinctively deferred more to me, a Demon Lord, than to Laura, who was human. The impression was that while Laura was the commander, I was the one truly pulling the strings.
The captains silently implored me with their eyes, begging me to rein Laura in.
"Will this be all right, Your Highness?"
"The supreme commander of this army is Duchess Laura de Farnese. I am merely a Court Count dispatched by the Empire—nothing more than an outsider. Just follow your orders quietly."
I grinned broadly. And I didn't forget to add one more thing.
"Or perhaps you're afraid of arriving later than the Duchess? I didn't know the Helvetians were so lacking in confidence in mountain warfare."
The captains' faces twisted with displeasure.
Stirring up regional sentiments was childish, but it was always effective. In fact, it was effective precisely because it was childish. The mercenary captains, even in front of me—the Demon Lord—could not hide their displeased expressions and all shouted in unison:
"The Supreme Commander should arrive at least two weeks after us!"
The words exchanged in this meeting were relayed to every mercenary company.
The mercenary captains were furious over a simple provocation. The mercenary companies spread across the continent hurried their steps, determined not to arrive later than the Supreme Commander under any circumstances. For the Helvetian mercenaries who prided themselves on having honed their martial spirit in the towering mountain ranges, being slower than a Supreme Commander who hailed from some 'Sardinian backwater' was an enormous insult.
May 30th.
The Helvetian mercenaries achieved the remarkable feat of mustering 26,910 out of their total 27,542 soldiers at Lugano.
It was exactly fifteen days since Laura had set foot in the Alps. In just two weeks, the Helvetian mercenaries had effectively completed their muster in mountainous terrain where assembling an army was extraordinarily difficult. It was an unprecedented speed.
One mercenary company had come all the way from the Batavia Republic! They transferred all their heavy armor and weapons using teleportation magic, then procured donkeys from a village and rode day and night to get here. It must have cost thousands of gold just to purchase the magic scrolls and donkeys—truly an indomitable spirit.
Laura commended the mercenaries.
"The soldiers of Helvetia are indeed different. Quartermaster, take this."
Laura handed a piece of paper to the supply officer. The officer received the paper with writing in the Imperial language and tilted his head.
"What is this, Your Grace?"
"It is a pass that allows you to use our supplies as you see fit. Quartermaster. Take your regiment immediately and visit every household in Lugano—buy up all the fine beer and wine you can find."
Laura flashed a radiant smile. It was the kind of smile that would make anyone who saw it fall head over heels.
"Tell the soldiers this: Their Duchess has fallen head over heels for the men of Helvetia today. She sends her gifts with a young girl's sincere affections, and grants them leave to drink until their noses go crooked."
"Your orders shall be obeyed!"
The mercenary captains answered with booming voices.
Food and ale were delivered on wagons to the soldiers who had been forced on a grueling march. The soldiers were dumbfounded at this unexpected windfall, but once they heard the reason, they erupted in cheers. The cries of "Long live Duchess Farnese!" filled the plains.
Mercenaries are paid handsome wages, but more than half of that goes to food expenses. Armor and weapons must also be purchased and maintained out of their own pockets, so the money a mercenary earns is hardly impressive given the risks to their lives.
The drink they usually called "wine" was little better than vinegar water, or beer that could only be compared to horse urine. Even that, the commander would typically hand out the day after a victory, making a show of his generosity. But here, proper barrels of ale had arrived before a single battle had even been fought. Of course the cries of celebration came naturally.
The topic the soldiers chose for their drinking talk was, naturally, their stunning commander-in-chief.
Laura had led several thousand soldiers across the Alps, and during the march she had worn the same clothes as the rank-and-file, eaten the same food, and slept in the same places. The soldiers who had spent half a month with Laura eagerly passed these stories around.
Thousands of them were talking all at once. The stories spread through the entire army in no time.
The mercenaries were already inclined to be favorable toward her for throwing such a generous feast. Once they heard tales like these, they began praising Laura without hesitation. After a single night, Laura had firmly seized the hearts of these tough, rebellious mercenaries.
The climax came the next day.
Five hundred soldiers who had been late to the muster arrived in Lugano. The mercenaries showered the latecomers with jeers. Since they had failed to keep the appointed date, if military law were applied strictly, they could face beheading.
Before thirty thousand soldiers, Laura summoned the responsible officer. The dwarven regiment commander stepped forward. He was a dwarf with an eyepatch over his right eye.
"Military law is absolute. You know what you have done wrong."
"Yes, Your Grace."
The dwarf bowed respectfully. His face already showed the resolve of a man who had accepted his fate.
"I will accept whatever punishment is given."
"Last chance—I will give you the opportunity to defend your regiment and yourself. Why were you late?"
"We were delayed while helping the wounded along."
Laura nodded.
"Take off your boots."
It was an odd command, but the dwarf raised no question. When he removed his layered leather boots, there were the pitiful feet of a dwarf. Burst blisters were a gruesome mess of raw skin.
At that moment, the mercenary captains were horrified by what Laura did next.
"No!"
"Your Grace!"
Laura crouched down to the ground and, without a moment's hesitation, pressed her lips to the back of the dwarf's foot. Laura was the kind of woman who could rightly be called the most beautiful woman on the continent. Yet she kissed the foot of a dwarf — a race renowned for their ugliness — and on the dirtiest part of the body at that.
The officers and soldiers watching from the side were stunned, but the one who had just received a kiss on the back of his foot from Her Grace could only be even more shocked. Unable to stop her, he stood frozen, every muscle rigid.
Laura rose and surveyed the soldiers.
"This man violated his recall date yet did not desert — he came here instead. Knowing full well he would be punished under military law, he remained faithful to his commander's orders. A soldier who fights only in expectation of reward is nothing but rabble, but a soldier who willingly accepts punishment — he is the elite."
Laura pointed at the dwarf regimental commander and raised her voice.
"If he had been processed as a deserter and the matter rushed through, this man could have avoided punishment. But he did not abandon his comrades and subordinates, and at the same time he did not flee from military law. Soldiers of Helvetia! I have never seen warriors who love their comrades and uphold military law as fiercely as you!"
Someone let out a shout in support. The sound spread like wildfire, and before long all thirty thousand soldiers were roaring. The dwarf regimental commander, overcome with emotion, dropped to both knees and prostrated himself before Laura.
At this moment, Laura truly became one with the soldiers in the truest sense.
The inherent weakness of mercenaries was that every regiment fought differently. Even among the same infantry, some units favored long pikes while others preferred the combination of shield and heavy sword. Mercenary forces boasted tremendous individual combat power, but their wildly varying styles made them exceedingly difficult to coordinate.
Laura solved this problem through trust in the supreme commander. She won the hearts of both officers and soldiers. "Hearts" here encompassed everything — from the most basic desire for good drink to the loftiest need to have their pride recognized.
Now, even on an unfamiliar battlefield, they would throw themselves into the fray if Laura gave the order. They would remain loyal to the end for a superior who understood their sense of camaraderie and their pride as mercenaries — so long as Laura never betrayed them.
Two days later, after giving them ample rest, Laura issued her orders.
"Show those plain dwellers what mountain folk are made of!"
Laura herself was what one would call a lowland hick, but not a single officer raised an objection. The expedition force advanced swiftly. When they reached a river line, Sardinian cavalry had already established a camp there, apparently expecting the approach.
"There aren't many of them. They're scouts, Your Grace."
"Attack immediately."
"What?"
Laura issued an attack order without warning, and the commanders were taken aback.
Laura's expression remained utterly unmoved.
"If they had anticipated that we would march here, there would have been no advance camp beyond that river — there would have been their main force. The fact that their main camp isn't here means they've only roughly figured out our general route!"
As she explained to the mercenary captains, Laura drew her curved blade herself.
"The enemy still doesn't know we've arrived. We'll annihilate the advance guard as we are, push deep, and launch a surprise attack on the enemy's main camp! Charge!"
And before the captains could even relay orders to their respective regiments, Laura was already galloping forward alone. The mercenary captains, startled, chased after her.
"B-blow the horns! Charge!"
"Follow the Duke! Damn it, don't you dare leave His Grace alone!"
"Charge! All units, charge!"
The horn-blowers frantically sounded their horns.
"Waaah! The Duke has gone ahead!"
"Don't fall behind His Grace, you brats!"
The soldiers charged across the river with war cries. The river was narrow, but even so, in the deepest parts the water rose to a dwarf's waist. Through that, two thousand vanguard troops surged forward headlong.
There was no formation. With Laura and the mercenary captains at the front, the entire army moved as one massive inverted triangle, rushing forward. It was an absurdly recklessly full-army charge.
This was the page that opened the Second Chrysanthemum War.
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
And so the Second Chrysanthemum War ascends into legend.