Chapter 188: Ruthless Critiques

Michael was in a foul mood after letting the Imperial Knights escape. Catching cavalry that was determined to flee was like trying to catch the wind. At least most of the dragoons who’d participated in the ambush had surrendered.

Surrendering at the slightest disadvantage was a bad habit of mercenaries, but resisting to the bitter end while being relentlessly pursued by the duchy army was decidedly un-mercenary behavior.

And by surrendering, they’d bought time for the Imperial Knights to escape, so they’d fulfilled their obligation to their employer. Michael was so furious he wanted to kill them all, but that wasn’t an option in practice.

If he executed all the surrendered mercenaries, no mercenary in Europe would ever contract with Beren again. And those mercenaries, contracted by enemy nations, would freely plunder Beren to their hearts’ content.

That was the price of breaking the unwritten rules.

Likewise, mercenaries had their own unwritten rule of not plundering too harshly in enemy nations. In Europe, today’s enemy could become tomorrow’s client, and that was simply how many wars were being fought everywhere.

You didn’t make enemies of future customers.

Unlike in the past, when they’d been no different from bandits,

modern mercenary companies were essentially businesses.

"Those bastards turned out to be Hungarian mercenaries."

"Hungarian? They’ve expanded all the way out here?"

"There are Scottish mercenaries operating nearby too, so it’s not that unusual. The real issue is that these men aren’t some random drifters."

Michael said the important thing wasn’t where they came from but that the information they’d provided was quite interesting. Their employer was the Count of Loewentringen, one of the eastern lords.

"You know about that Hungarian brat who became king because he was the great general’s son, right?"

"I believe his name is Matthias Corvinus."

"That’s the Latin name. His proper Hungarian name is Hunyadi Mátyás."

To be honest, I didn’t know much about him. I’d heard that after the Hungarian royal line died out, he’d ascended to the throne with the support of the nobility and the people. He was young, around twenty years old.

But what connection could there be to the young King of Hungary?

"Those mercenaries were sent by that Hungarian brat."

"The King of Hungary sent mercenaries to an eastern lord?"

My head was already splitting from the civil war, and now external forces were stirring up trouble too. Hungary was quite far away. Why would they want to meddle in Beren’s affairs?

"On top of that, other Hungarian mercenaries have also contracted with Duke Radensdorf."

"Aren’t Hungarian mercenaries famous as light cavalry?"

"That’s right. They’ll probably be the ones you’ll be dealing with the most."

If Hungarian mercenaries were joining the fight in large numbers, it would turn into guerrilla warfare, which happened to be my strongest suit. The Duke probably found a head-on clash with the Grand Duke too risky and was planning to wage a guerrilla campaign.

And that was entirely plausible.

The most powerful army in Beren was the duchy army based in Breisburg. The reason the lords had been reluctant to oppose the Grand Duke was entirely because of this army’s existence.

It normally operated with around a thousand men and could mobilize up to twenty-five hundred at maximum. Any lord who tried to stand alone against it would be crushed in an instant.

That was why the Duke had united the east to build up his numbers.

Radensdorf was a fairly large territory in its own right, but there was simply no comparison in terms of scale.

And the population of Breisburg was roughly thirty thousand.

A third of them were beggars and vagrants in the slums.

It was only a matter of time before the streets turned into a cesspool.

Before the Black Death, the population had supposedly exceeded forty thousand.

"The presence of Hungarian mercenaries proves they have no intention of fighting us head-on."

"We’ll need to significantly increase the proportion of light cavalry in the duchy army."

"That’s true, but our side has the Gale Knights led by the Gale Knight himself."

Michael rated me more highly than the Hungarian mercenaries.

Well, when it came to guerrilla warfare, I was more confident than anyone.

Thanks to the Scouter, I’d become a specialist.

But I was more concerned about the south than the east. On top of that, the Grand Duke himself was skeptical about the southern lords joining his side. If the south sided with the east, my opponent could very well be them.

Not only was my territory close to the south, but geographically, a clash between west and south was unavoidable. Michael agreed it was a valid point and mulled it over, then decided to hire the captured Hungarian mercenaries.

Mercenaries didn’t care who the employer was as long as they got paid.

It wasn’t uncommon to rehire enemy mercenaries who’d fought hard and then been captured. Today’s ally becoming tomorrow’s enemy was a daily occurrence. Mercenaries would fight their own countrymen without a second thought.

This civil war would also involve both sides pouring massive amounts of money into hiring nearby mercenary companies to bolster their numbers. Which side hired more mercenaries would be a decisive factor in determining victory or defeat.

The Grand Duke had already ordered Adelbert in the Finance Department to calculate the war costs. It would be a miracle if Adelbert’s heart didn’t stop at the astronomical figure. And then Michael piled on even more.

Not only had Michael hired the Hungarian mercenaries, but he seemed intent on increasing the proportion of light cavalry overall.

The duchy army had traditionally been built around heavy cavalry, but Michael, having watched my exploits up close, had come to appreciate the importance of light cavalry better than anyone. He must have gotten a real taste of what guerrilla warfare could do.

And it seemed he was hoping I’d pull off a surprise capture of Duke Radensdorf, just like I’d captured Count Épinay. Big dreams. As if something like that were easy.

Capturing Count Épinay had been pure luck.

If the cavalry escorting the Count hadn’t conveniently peeled off to engage Baron Valent’s pursuing riders at just the right moment, I would have been the one in trouble. I’d been so blinded by the desire for glory that I hadn’t been thinking straight.

I left the duchy army matters to Michael and was finally able to head home. A certain cat waiting for me at Rosengarden, neck craned in anticipation, had been wearing me out lately.

"Brother! I tried some even better phrasing this time!"

"You want me to read it again? Don’t you ever get tired?"

She was the future crown princess, but after we’d been through life-and-death situations together, Lily had started calling me "brother" out of the blue. Believe it or not, Lily and I were the same age. Seriously.

When I asked why she called me that, she said I felt like a much older brother. Hilda had also said she’d fallen for me because I had the appeal of someone older, even though I was actually younger.

Well, that made sense.

The contents were those of a middle-aged man, after all.

Having given up on correcting her, I’d started treating her casually too.

The problem was that unlike other nobles, I wasn’t the type to scold a woman for writing novels, which led Lily to start demanding feedback from me. Even though I’d read all sorts of novels in my past life, this was pure torture.

Romance novels were so cringeworthy I could barely get through them. But Lily kept pestering me so relentlessly that I ended up tearing her work apart with ruthless critiques, and she actually loved it even more. I felt like I’d been involuntarily conscripted as her editor.