"Do not retreat! Do not flee to the rear!"
The kingdom's NCOs raised their halberds high and screamed themselves hoarse. But when a soldier's own life was on the line, he might stand and fight—yet the moment his own life, and the life of the comrade to his left and the comrade to his right, were all in mortal danger, he would turn tail and run without so much as a backward glance.
The Bretagne cavalry routed the mercenary company. The mercenaries fled straight toward the allied kingdom's army. The kingdom's forces were already surrounded on all sides. When the panicked stragglers poured into their ranks, the formation collapsed beyond all hope of recovery.
A full forty thousand men were packed into a single space.
Our imperial troops drove them back step by step, again and again, with spear and sword. Before anyone realized it, the crowd had grown so dense that they could no longer even take a step backward.
The space was far too cramped. The enemy soldiers couldn't even extend their arms properly to thrust a spear. Our imperial troops, by contrast, could swing their weapons with perfect freedom.
"This isn't a battle—it's a slaughter. Laura, what shall we do?"
"No mercy."
Laura, who had finally stopped crying, spoke with her usual resolute expression. The faint traces of tears still lingered on her face, but not a single commander—not even myself—pointed it out.
"Grant them an equal death, regardless of rank or station. Once the battle is over, promise the mercenaries the right to loot the corpses."
Our army did not stop the massacre.
The enemy's chain of command had already completely collapsed. From every direction came the sounds of "I surrender!" and "Mercy, please have mercy!" Dozens at a time fell to their knees on the dirt, begging and groveling—it was a common sight.
The Helvetica mercenaries cut their heads off without pity. Scarlet pools of blood spread across the ground. Intestines and livers lay scattered in the dirt. Brain matter splattered, and blood-red spearheads were washed clean with gore. On the plains of Maledictus, nothing rang out but screams.
The enemy made one final desperate stand. The mages gathered together and simultaneously hurled a torrent of fireballs. But when both sides fielded roughly the same number of mages, such an attack was meaningless.
We simply defended against the magic with ease—until the enemy collapsed from exhaustion. Of course, we did not forget to maintain an anti-teleportation formation at all times.
Today, on this ground, the protective houses of Sardinia die.
A fortunate few—perhaps ten or so soldiers—managed to break through our encirclement and escape. Those lucky souls were hunted down like turkeys by Juliana de Blanc's cavalry. It must have have been a truly novel experience for them.
Those who resisted were killed. Those who surrendered were killed. Those who fled were killed. Many enemy soldiers, in utter despair, simply collapsed to the ground. Our response to that, naturally, was nothing more than "Good—they're easier to kill now."
After roughly one hour, we had successfully completed the annihilation.
All 40,000 soldiers of the Kingdom of Sardinia's army were slaughtered to the last man. Not a single exception. At least, based on my continuous observation through the telescope, we had shown absolutely no mercy toward any Kingdom soldier attempting to flee.
Even the commanding general, the Duke of Milan, had his throat pierced by the spear of an anonymous foot soldier. Dukes, marquesses, counts—eleven high-ranking nobles in total were beheaded. Thirty mages were killed. Ninety barons were hanged.
Had we sold them all as prisoners, we could have funded the national budget three times over. But Laura had made it abundantly clear that she had no mercy to spare, and I did not stop her.
This was meant to show anyone who dared to forget the courtesies of diplomacy and defy the Empire exactly what kind of ending awaited them.
The battle, named the Battle of the Padus after the river's name, concluded as follows.
The Imperial Army: 19,400 infantry and 9,800 cavalry deployed. Casualties: 4,900 infantry and 600 cavalry. Of these, 3,000 casualties came from the militia under my command.
The Kingdom Army: approximately 41,000 infantry and approximately 7,000 cavalry deployed.
Dead: approximately 40,000 infantry and approximately 3,500 cavalry.
Of the 48,000 Kingdom soldiers who participated in the battle, a mere 4,500 managed to escape alive.
The name Laura de Farnese had come to reign as a nightmare over the Kingdom of Sardinia.
Now the tide had turned decisively.
With every battle, more than thirty thousand troops fell. In less than half a year, the Kingdom of Sardinia's army had lost a hundred thousand soldiers. The royal court had been reduced to a state where it could no longer hope for any decisive engagement.
"Your Grace, the Duke of Parma. I congratulate you on your magnificent victory."
"Your Grace's illustrious name now echoes across the entire continent."
A few days later, congratulatory envoys arrived from every nation. They had sensed that we would win the war overwhelmingly and had hastily dispatched their representatives. Every country sent an envoy except the Anatolia Empire, the Kingdom of Sardinia, and the Habsburg Republic.
There was a minor incident as well. The envoys had prepared modest gifts—perhaps thinking that gold and silver would not leave a deep impression, they brought something special instead. However, envoys from all nine nations had prepared exactly the same kind of gift: a fine sword. It was a disaster born from the simplistic thinking that "duke = general = soldier = sword."
The envoys, suddenly faced with having presented the same gift nine times in a row, were so embarrassed they were at a loss for words. Laura, too, was hesitating, unsure how to react, when I clapped my hands.
"Never before has any general been gifted swords by the monarchs of ten nations all at once. Your Grace—why not name the fine sword gifted by the King of Politunia 'the Sword of Politunia,' and the fine sword gifted by Her Majesty, Empress of the Frank Empire, 'the Sword of Frank,' thus transforming these nine swords into a single, extraordinary symbol?"
At my clever suggestion, the envoys cried out in unison as though they had been waiting for it.
"What a splendid idea!"
"Your Grace, this humble one also supports the Court Count's proposal."
Laura, too, smiled as she accepted the suggestion.
What might have become an embarrassingly awkward diplomatic incident was thus transformed into the elegant formulation of the "Swords of the Ten Nations."
When word spread, Consul Elizabeth and the Emperor of Anatolia each sent a fine sword as gifts as well. With this, Laura became the first general in history to receive legendary blades from the monarchs of twelve nations. Well, that's propaganda for you.
Our imperial army wheeled about and marched on toward Milan.
Milan had lost the bulk of its citizen militia in the Battle of Padus. The Duke of Milan had led a massive contingent of his city's militia into battle, eager to set an example.
Thanks to that, Milan's military strength was at a level where holding out in a siege was nearly impossible. The sight of them hastily conscripting even old men and propping them up atop the city walls was almost pitiful.
Laura rode her horse right up to the base of the city walls and casually circled the perimeter. She let out a light, dismissive snort.
"It's time we returned their precious families to them."
Five catapults looted from Genoa were wheeled forward. Our soldiers stuffed heavy objects deep into the throwing baskets. Laura gave the order to fire. Five projectiles hurtled into the city in rapid succession.
Moments later, screams erupted from Milan's walls.
What we had thrown were not boulders. They were dozens of severed heads from the Kingdom of Sardinia's army. Among them were surely the heads of humans who had once been Milanese citizens. It was an act so cruel it was hard to believe humans had committed it. Milan's hastily assembled defenders trembled in terror.
"What are you lot doing? Keep sending their families back!"
"Yes, Your Grace!"
Our army spent a full two hours raining down a barrage of severed heads.
The soldiers on the walls completely lost their will to fight. Among them were soldiers who clutched their heads with both hands, trembling and crumpling to the ground. After two hours had passed, Laura delivered a terse ultimatum through amplification magic.
"Open the gates within five minutes if you don't want to die, every last one of you."
It was an ultimatum utterly devoid of even a shred of courtesy — and precisely for that reason, an effective one.
A brief commotion arose, and before three minutes had passed, the city gates swung wide open. Our army strolled into Milan as though heading out on a picnic. Queen Henrietta rode beside me, muttering.
"I don't feel great about this. It doesn't feel like someone else's problem."
"……."
Ah, come to think of it, Queen Henrietta had also endured a rain of corpses from catapults when she was holding out in the Le Havre fortress. It had been a scheme to spread disease, and it was an attack I myself had suggested.
Queen Henrietta's face looked murderous for some reason. If I confessed, "Actually, I was the one who suggested that," I'd have gotten slapped on the spot.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to have corpses falling on your head while you're trying to eat?"
"I—I'm afraid I don't. I've never experienced it."
"I do so wish Dantalion could experience it at least once. It truly feels like hell. I don't know which Demon Lord pulled that stunt, but if they ever fall into my hands, they're dead that very day."
"Ha ha, ha ha ha."
I pressed my lips firmly together……
Milan — the great city boasting the most formidable walls in northern Sardinia, the wealthiest commercial city on the entire continent — had fallen with absurd ease. Milan's fall meant that Sardinia had lost all power to control the north.
The Sardinian royal court hastily reinstated Elizabeth as Commander-in-Chief.
But the situation was already spiraling out of control.
I secretly made a request to the Frank Imperial Court, having the Empress Dowager demand the succession of the Medici family.
Since the Grand Duke of Florence also had a son, a genuine succession was impossible. However, it was perfectly feasible for the Empress Dowager to serve as a "guardian" watching over the young heir until he came of age.
Naturally, while it was called guardianship, in reality it was no different from a regency.
And besides, had the Empress Dowager not already manipulated the Frank Empire once under the guise of regency? The Sardinian royal court and the Medici main house in Florence flatly refused.
The moment they rejected our proposal, the Frank Empire entered the war.
Frank's southern nobles banded together and invaded Sardinia. Their pretext was a masterpiece.
"In these chaotic times, Sardinians have been repeatedly trespassing into our territories without authorization. In order to eradicate vagrants, refugees, and straggling soldiers, we shall temporarily assume responsibility for maintaining order in this region."
One could charitably call that a fine piece of nonsense.
For the record, it was a pretext I had personally drafted.
Haha.
In exchange for generously permitting Frank's advance, I secured a considerable quantity of supplies from the Frank nobility. Our Imperial Army was furnished with vast stockpiles of food and weapons. Naturally, the Frank nobles had ruthlessly plundered Sardinian territory to amass these massive provisions.
Next came the Batavia Republic, the Kingdom of Castile, and the Kalmar Union.
I offered my "apologies" for the disruption of continental trade caused by this war, and as "compensation," I declared that the Imperial Army would allow the occupied ports to be used free of charge. It was a proposal these nations had no reason to refuse.
Batavia, Castile, and Kalmar each dispatched numerous squadrons to protect their own merchant vessels. They also occasionally loaned us warships whenever the Imperial Army required them.
All three nations declared that this was purely a measure to safeguard their merchants, and they had absolutely no intention of involving themselves in the war — yet another exquisitely polished piece of bullshit, all the more so when one considered that the slaves captured by our Imperial Army were being sold off to them.
Every nation had transformed into a ravenous pack of wolves and began tearing into the plump sheep known as Sardinia.
Sardinia was cornered with no way out.
============================ Author's Notes ============================
I'm posting a map of the current war situation.