Chapter 71 - What You Lost, What You Will Forget (2)

"Having Sir Alloy here makes me feel incredibly reassured."

"I heard you achieved a great accomplishment this time. Congratulations."

The knights were busy flattering one another.

"I hear the inspection ceremony for your family's Rose Thorn Heavy Armored Infantry was quite the spectacle, wasn't it?"

"And isn't the Viscount's Iron Hawk Archers a famous elite force within the kingdom?"

The nobles praised one another and laughed heartily.

Watching this sight, Maximilian pressed a hand to his forehead.

It was utterly impossible to tell if this was a command tent for the leaders of an army, or a banquet hall for nobles.

Maximilian looked around. The faces of the nobles gathered in the meeting room were familiar.

The middle-aged man over there with a scar on his cheek was a fairly well-known knight, and the young man strutting around with puffed-up shoulders was a promising soldier who had recently gained fame.

Each and every one of them possessed their own reputation and position, yet all these people were doing in the meeting room was boasting about their prowess and showing off their troops.

'And they call this a meeting.'

Even the meetings where the now-deceased northern lords chattered incoherently weren't like this. At least back then, even if the discussions lacked substance, they actually talked about future plans.

But here, there wasn't even that bare minimum of discussion.

"Shouldn't we be preparing a countermeasure against the Orcs?"

Unable to watch any longer, he stepped forward to draw the attention of those wandering through a field of flowers.

"Before Your Highness arrived, our capable staff officers had already lost sleep formulating a countermeasure, and the wise nobles and knights have identified and supplemented any shortcomings."

The Commander's response, which sounded like he was soothing a child, was not what Maximilian wanted.

Because he already knew.

Just how flimsy the countermeasure made by the so-called capable staff officers who lost sleep over it truly was.

Utilize the geographical advantage to block the exit of the narrow bridge, and annihilate the Orcs as they cross over.

It was a plausible plan in its own way. However, there was one major flaw in their strategy.

And that was the existence of the resilient Orcs who did not even fear death.

Maximilian recalled the words his older brother had said on the day he first arrived at Winter Castle.

["When you encounter monsters for the first time, your limbs will freeze from their glare, and you'll feel dizzy from their stench. If it's on a plain, you'll simply die, and if it's on a wall, it will be immediately breached. There are no exceptions."]

He hadn't believed those words at first. He thought it was just a scare tactic.

But it wasn't. During the first battle, he realized to his very bones that everything his brother had said was true.

Still, he had somehow managed to survive.

Because back then, there had been high walls and the battle-hardened Rangers of Ballorhard.

But here, there were neither high walls nor resilient Rangers.

The moment they encountered the Orcs, the elites that the nobles were so proud of would piss themselves like children. With their limbs frozen, they would watch with fading consciousness as their bodies were torn to shreds by the Orcs.

The front lines would be breached in an instant, and their formations would collapse. And upon seeing the terrified soldiers, the Orcs would rampage even more fiercely.

A hellscape would unfold right before their eyes.

He pictured the collapsed defensive lines and ruined cities. A vision floated before his eyes of citizens wandering as they were chased by Orcs, and the kingdom's banners lying broken and scattered.

He had to stop it. He had returned here to stop it.

["Do not let the defensive line be breached. They are the ones who multiplied to that extent even within the harsh and barren mountains. If we let them advance to the warm and bountiful south, it will be irreversible."]

His brother's earnest request came to mind.

Maximilian looked around.

"Twenty-two families have gathered, and nine thousand seven hundred and twenty-three soldiers have assembled. There are four hundred and thirty-four prominent knights, and among them is a Silver Lion of the kingdom."

"Furthermore, our forces are spread out widely, while the enemy has no choice but to attack through a narrow path, so we have the geographical advantage as well. This has the same effect as multiplying our numbers and reducing the enemy's, so we could easily fend them off even if double the ten thousand Orcs were to swarm us."

The staff officers prattled on as if they already had victory in their grasp. And the nobles and the Commander seemed to believe their words wholeheartedly.

The staff officers were itching to show off their paltry wit, and the knights were blinded by vain ambition. The commanders underestimated the enemy and overestimated their own forces.

Not a single one of them was looking straight at the true face of the impending disaster; all they saw was the path of flowers that would unfold after their victory.

Even though the ironclad winter fortress had fallen, and the North had been turned to ruins.

["You will be able to do it."]

Recalling the feeling of the scar-covered hand that had patted his shoulder, Maximilian steeled himself. Then, he spoke with force.

"I propose that we reexamine and redo the deployment of all troops."

The expressions of the staff officers stiffened. However, perhaps quickly remembering his status, they smiled softly and replied.

"It is a deployment devised by renowned commanders and knights after much deliberation. I assure you, there is no better deployment than this."

Maximilian let out an involuntary laugh.

It was because he wasn't ignorant of just how flawed the deployment they called their 'best' truly was.

Though they had hurriedly brought their families' elites at the royal summons, the great lords' selfish desire to avoid damaging their precious troops was reflected in the deployment, resulting in the elite soldiers and knights all being placed in the rear. The forces that would be the first to face the Orcs were entirely composed of the private soldiers of lesser families, men who hadn't even shaken off the look of conscripts.

Maximilian turned his head.

He saw the face of a great lord who had been boasting that his soldiers' inspection ceremony was a masterpiece.

"Did you say they were the Thorny Rose Heavy Armored Infantry? I hear your soldiers are quite brave. If your heavy infantry stood on the front lines, I believe our allies' morale would soar."

The great lord looked at the Commander with a flustered face. It was a glance begging for intervention.

But before the Commander could step in, Maximilian pointed out the nobles one by one.

"Sir Alloy? I heard you recently achieved a great accomplishment. Congratulations. If your renowned sword joins the vanguard, the soldiers in the front lines will surely not waver."

A cold sneer filled his face as he rapidly poured out his words.

It was a smile that somehow resembled his older brother's. Though he himself seemed completely unaware of it.

"If Your Highness says so, I, Alloy Dort, shall step forward to fight at the very front!"

"When there is already a troop deployment devised by capable staff officers, how could I act out of personal ambition and covet the vanguard? Your words are too much for me to bear."

Those he singled out each began to run their mouths.

The knights intoxicated by ambition gladly accepted his proposal, while the nobles worried about their forces getting damaged spouted all sorts of excuses as to why they couldn't stand on the front lines.

"Your Highness. Your brilliant advice is certainly worth listening to, but unfortunately, we cannot do so right now. If what Your Highness says is true, the enemy is already right in front of us, and redoing the deployment now will only cause immense confusion among the soldiers."

The Commander stepped in to dissuade Maximilian.

"Was the enemy already right in front of us? Seeing how relaxed the various commanders were, I thought we still had a long time before the enemy arrived."

He spoke with sarcasm. The nobles exchanged glances with bewildered faces.

Among them were those who had known Maximilian for some time, and those who had spoken with him at least once or twice.

That was why they were even more flustered.

The Second Prince they knew was someone possessing gentle elegance, who never grew arrogant despite having abilities so outstanding that he was called the second coming of the Founding King, and who was kind and courteous to everyone. He was never an undignified person who blatantly expressed dissatisfaction, humiliated nobles, and mocked them as he was doing now.

"Your Highness. This is a military camp. A military camp has its own strict authority, and everyone gathered here must respect it. Just as I respect the strict authority of Your Highness."

The Commander managed a gentle expression in an attempt to somehow smooth over the discordant atmosphere.

"I am glad to hear that."

Maximilian immediately seized upon those words.

"Therefore, I propose again. I propose that the great lords' foremost elites and knights be deployed to the front lines, and that they be backed up by our maximum military strength."

"Your Highness..."

"This is not a proposal from the second son of the Leonberk Royal Family, but an official proposition made to you as the Commander of the temporarily organized Northern Support Legion, appointed by His Majesty the King."

The Commander cleared his throat with a flustered look.

"Did His Majesty the King perhaps strip me of the Commander position he bestowed upon me to hold me accountable for the defeat, without my knowledge?"

"That is absolutely unfounded. His Majesty has never said such a thing."

"That is a relief. Then I am still the Legion Commander and Commander."

Having had his authority confirmed from the Commander's own mouth, Maximilian proposed the troop deployment once more.

This time, neither the Commander nor the nobles could casually brush it off like a snake slithering over a wall as they had before, and were forced to review the plan.

Maximilian let out a sigh of relief.

'Now it finally feels a bit like a meeting.'

All while maintaining a cold expression on the outside.

* * *

Maximilian held his seat throughout the meetings that lasted for days, subtly provoking and stinging the pride of the great lords, pushing them to a point where if they held out any longer, they wouldn't be able to avoid the disgrace of being labeled as having backed down out of a fear of fighting.

Even the great lords who had desperately tried to keep their forces in the rear ultimately had no choice but to follow Maximilian's words.

Maximilian was not satisfied with just that, and he pointed out the individuals he had kept an eye on over the past few days, proposing they stand at the front. With even the highly influential great lords complying, there was no way those beneath them could refuse his words.

By the time the meeting completely concluded, the deployment of the defensive line had been completely reversed from front to back.

The elites that had been in the rear all came forward, and the private soldiers of the lesser nobles who had been in the front took their places in the back.

"Seeing you nobles leading by example makes me feel ashamed of myself. The Royal Family will never forget the righteousness you have shown here today."

Maximilian smiled softly and praised them.

The nobles shuddered in revulsion.

They were sick and tired of the Second Prince's way of speaking—a method that forced his opponents to obey without ever losing his politeness. Yet, even as they shuddered, they were immensely impressed.

The Second Prince's deftness in seeing through the nature of nobles—who feared dishonor like death—provoking it, and then uplifting his opponents so that no bitter feelings remained, was not something one would expect from a prince who was only fifteen years old.

It was truly a sight that drew comparison to the other princes.

The nobles exchanged glances. And seeing the expressions on each other's faces, they were certain.

That the next king was already practically decided.

However, finding out who the next king would be was a matter for the distant future; the immediate task given to them was to brilliantly repel the Orcs at the front lines and show off their prestige and prowess.

Figuring that since things had already turned out this way, they burned with motivation to establish a great accomplishment.

But their motivation did not last long.

"The Orcs are coming!"

The moment they saw the dense, pitch-black swarm of Orcs rushing across the bridge, the ambition blazing in the nobles' hearts was all too easily extinguished.

There were too many, far too many. Moreover, for something they called trivial monsters, why were they so massive?

Swallowing dryly, the nobles watched the Orcs, who looked twice as huge as the bulky bodies of fully armed heavy infantry.

"Someone is being chased by the Orcs!"

An archer with good eyesight, who was keeping watch on the front, shouted.

Startled, the nobles looked ahead. Just as the archer said, they could see figures being pursued by the Orcs.

A female knight wearing a helmet and clad in iron armor that failed to hide her characteristically slender, feminine curves, a man running pale with terror beside her, and three ghost-like cavalrymen following behind them with their cloaks pulled down low.

"Aaaargh! Arrows! Shoot the arrows!"

Recognizing the man frantically rushing the archers with a scream, one of the nobles' eyes went wide.

"Why is he out there..."

The other nobles asked for the man's identity.

"H-He's the eldest son of the Eli family."