Our main force joined the southwest of Parisio Room. With this, victory was ours.
Bretagne had let the precious grain warehouse fortress be seized by us. The fortress had an exceedingly long name. The Sage-Germain-en-Lay Fortress. It was tedious to remember or call out. Among our own officers, we abbreviated it to "Grain Storehouse" and that was that.
Seven hundred infantry and two hundred cavalry had been guarding the fortress. It was a fairly solid defensive force. But when a full ten thousand Republic soldiers descended upon it, the fortress didn't hold out for even two hours. They likely never imagined a large army would pour into this place. It was a perfect ambush.
The only hope was Henrietta sending reinforcements, but… it didn't work out. The timing of when the units departed was simply too different.
We had the Batavia Republic troops cross the river first and then quickly set out. In contrast, the Bretagne army was bogged down in battle. About two hours were wasted. The moment the battle broke out, Henrietta had already made a blunder.
Of course, this is talking in hindsight. If they had won the battle, Henrietta would have gone down in history as a bold general who scored a decisive victory. Conversely, we would have been depicted as bumbling fools who got picked off one by one while attempting the crossing. That's how war works. The result judges everything…
The burning of Parisio Room was entrusted to Viscount de Vergy.
When I heard news of the massive purge that occurred, I was startled. Fortunately, Viscount de Vergy had managed to avoid the bloodbath somewhat. The viscount was the intermediary connecting Franque's Patriotic Front and our forces. His survival was sheer luck. In reality, the viscount had fulfilled his role splendidly.
Henrietta was probably lamenting bitterly right about now.
She had lost her ultimate fighting force, the Order of the Green Rose, and had also lost the grain. With this, the Bretagne army's room to maneuver had been drastically narrowed.
Henrietta, you were too obsessed with the pitched battle. War is ultimately a game of deceit. By taking a desperate stand, the Bretagne army had crudely revealed that their objective was the battle itself.
We, on the other hand, concealed our intentions to the very end. We built a fortress as if planning a long-term campaign, and crossed the river as if targeting Parisio Room. But our true objective was the grain. Henrietta fell for this double trap.
Around noon. Laura and I were together in my personal tent.
Our side had secured the decisive advantage, but the war wasn't over yet. The Bretagne army was still intact. We couldn't let our guard down for a second. Just after we established a new garrison in the southwest of Parisio Room, the two of us entered a strategy meeting.
"Now, the Bretagne army has two choices left."
"Either wage a defensive battle from within a city, or conduct a full-scale retreat."
Laura nodded. When she started a sentence, I would continue it. We understood each other's strategies perfectly.
"The Bretagne army won't be keen on a defensive battle. They are believers in pitched battles, and their grain for a prolonged siege has also been stolen. They would want to retreat as soon as possible, but…."
"The question is where they will retreat to."
Frank still bears the deep scars of civil war.
To the west and south of Parisiorum, the royalist faction remains strong. It is natural, since every republican who could be found was ruthlessly eliminated.
Conversely, the north of Frank has become the undeniable holy land of the republicans. The region where free cities declared their independence during the civil war is also concentrated in the north.
Therefore, from Henrietta's perspective, she would want to flee towards the west or south, which are at least somewhat sympathetic to her cause. By kidnapping the Emperor and the Empress Dowager and keeping them with her, she could at least nominally levy war taxes under the authority of an 'imperial command.' It would be a legitimate way to secure military provisions.
However, we are the ones blocking the passages to the south and west.
For the Bretagne army to retreat south-west, they must cross the river, just as we did last night. It goes without saying, but neither Laura nor I have any intention of watching them cross peacefully.
"We must order the wyvern units to monitor the situation in Parisiorum."
"I have already relayed the order through Gamigin. The units take turns in shifts of three hours each, perfectly monitoring Parisiorum."
Laura smiled softly at my response.
"As expected of my Lord Commander. A perfect adjutant is, by definition, one who serves the Lord Commander."
"...It feels like the roles of Lord Commander and adjutant have been reversed, and quite thoroughly at that."
An adjutant who works her Lord Commander to the bone—Laura might be the only one. Well, it doesn't really matter. As long as we can win the war.
When the Bretagne army makes a move, immediate reports will come through the wyvern surveillance units. We plan to move to prevent the enemy from crossing the river line. Of course, Henrietta isn't so foolish that she won't notice the wyverns monitoring her.
"The Queen of Bretagne will either attempt a crossing by force, or she will abandon the attempt."
"Either choice is advantageous to us."
Laura nodded.
"If the enemy attempts to cross, we can engage them from a favorable position. However, if they possess a unit powerful enough to disregard the risks of crossing, then the situation becomes complicated..."
"That is precisely why we worked so hard last night, to eliminate that unit. Isn't that right, Laura?"
The Order of the Green Rose Knights.
They are abnormally powerful. It is common knowledge that an army weakens during a crossing, but the Green Rose Knights could easily defend their own forces during a crossing while repelling enemy attacks.
Therefore, we annihilated the Order of the Green Rose Knights last night, even at the cost of some risk.
In truth, instead of spreading our forces from the first defensive line to the fourth, we could have concentrated our entire army at the first defensive line. Had we done so, the line would never have been breached. But we deliberately allowed the breach to happen.
As a result, the Bretagne army lost its ace in the hole.
It wasn't merely that their strongest fighting force had been wiped out. What disappeared was the possibility of them leaping into a river crossing without hesitation in the current situation. Granted, Henrietta still had quite some time before she would realize this… but still.
"The Bretagne army has no choice now but to retreat northward."
That was correct.
Queen Henrietta had no option but to advance of her own accord into hostile territory. She would replenish her meager food supplies by pillaging the villages and cities of the north.
That was exactly what Laura and I wanted.
Past noon, the commanders gathered in the tent.
For the most part, the Demon Lords had bright expressions on their faces. They had achieved a strategic victory. It would have been strange if they hadn't looked pleased. Only three of them—Paimon, Vassago, and Commander Zepar—had faces frozen stiff.
Paimon had been displeased with Laura's strategy for some time now. The strong impression given off was that he had plenty he wanted to say but was holding his tongue because they had won.
Vassago was simply in a foul mood. The previous night must have been nothing short of a nightmare for Vassago. He radiated an unmistakable aura of never wanting to fight Agares again. Of course, in my mind, Vassago had already been earmarked as the designated man-marker for Agares.
Commander Zepar, on the other hand, was visibly restraining his fury.
"Deputy Commander. I did not hear so much as a single word about this operation beforehand. I demand an explanation."
The old general's wrinkles looked as though they were about to erupt with rage at any moment.
We had anticipated that the first defensive line would be breached. That was why we had achieved victory, yet not a shred of information had been given to Commander Zepar, the very man responsible for that first line. Commander Zepar had fought desperately—literally for his life—out of the belief that if he fell, the entire army would be endangered.
Laura spoke in a calm, measured tone.
"This operation could only succeed if the first defensive line fought with everything they had."
"…So you're saying that had I known the information in advance, I would have fought with less valor?"
"Whether or not our own forces have a contingency plan in place makes all the difference in the world. At the very least, it inevitably affects one's mindset. I trust you would not deny that, General Zepar."
Commander Zepar closed his mouth. He understood. But he couldn't help feeling angry. Commander Zepar's expression made that perfectly clear.
"The person who performed with the greatest distinction in this battle is, without question, General Zepar."
Laura clapped her hands.
From outside the tent, a soldier entered carrying a military standard in his arms. The Demon Lords regarded the messenger with puzzled expressions. Only Commander Zepar recognized what it was at a glance.
"That is..."
"Yes. It is the military standard of the Order of the Green Rose."
When Laura gestured, a soldier stepped forward and unfurled the banner.
"By order of Supreme Commander Rudolf von Habsburg, I hereby declare that the military standard shall be awarded to General Zepar, the foremost contributor to this battle."
"..."
Commander Zepar's pupils trembled. It was a military standard boasting a tradition of no less than seven hundred years. Throughout that long history, not once had the banner ever been seized by an enemy.
A standard military banner is worth anywhere from two hundred to five hundred gold coins, but the banner of the Order of the Green Rose held a value beyond any price. To have that standard hung in his own Demon Lord's Castle would be an extraordinary honor.
Commander Zepar quietly closed his eyes. He seemed lost in deep thought. After five hundred years, he was finally settling the score for his past humiliation. How could he not feel the weight of it all?
"...Thank you, Deputy Commander."
Commander Zepar opened his eyes and rose to his feet. He placed his right hand over his heart and saluted. For a commander who served Barbatos as his liege lord, this was virtually the highest form of respect.
Laura nodded.
"Bravery and sacrifice must naturally be followed by honor. However, the war is not yet over. Bretagne's forces remain intact. We shall resume formal deliberations on merit and rewards once victory has been conclusively achieved."
The Demon Lords nodded. Some wore expressions of discontent.
No need to hide it — it was Vassago again. I deliberately caught Vassago's gaze and gave a broad smile, and only then did the Demon Lord clear his throat awkwardly.
What a charming individual. I found him more and more endearing with each passing moment. I hoped he would remain that pure self forever.
Once the atmosphere had settled, Laura spoke.
"Starting tomorrow, we will thoroughly ransack the area around Parisiorum."
"Huh? We already have enough provisions. Why go out of our way to pillage and make ourselves look bad?"
Barbatos fired back. It was a reasonable question. In this era, pillaging was commonplace, but if it wasn't necessary, then naturally it was better not to do it.
Laura gestured toward me with her eyes.
"General Dantalion will explain that part. He is the one who drafted this operation. General Dantalion."
"Yes."
I rose from my seat. Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward me.
I cleared my throat and spoke in a calm, measured tone.
"This may be unfamiliar to you, Fellow Demon Lords, but in Frank, the Royalists and the Republicans are at odds. To put it simply, the Bretagne army belongs to the Royalists, while the Batavia army fighting alongside us belongs to the Republicans."
Most of the Demon Lords tilted their heads in confusion. The looks on their faces said, "Why would we care about human politics?" Tch. Now I understood all too well why they had suffered nothing but defeat after defeat against the Crescent Alliance Army.
I offered them a gentle smile.
"Four years ago, a massive massacre took place in Frank, carried out primarily by the Bretagne army. At least a hundred thousand republicans were slaughtered all across the country. In other words, the Republicans of Frank harbor an enormous hatred toward the Royalists. We will be making use of that hatred."
The Demon Lords still looked like they didn't quite get it.