Tower of Karma
Vol. 1 - Ch. 26 - The Battle of Flanders (7): A Quiet Battlefield

"It can't be... They're going to make a bold move."

Yuwain's opponent until yesterday was Anselm. Yuwain thought that Anselm had fought stubbornly the day before, and that there was no more patient general better at defense than him. However, the Arcadian army has made a move that far exceeds Yuwain's expectations.

"I'm going to pay you back for yesterday. 'Lion Marquis', Sir Yuwain!"

Today's opponent is Gilbert von Oswald. He is known as the rising star among the young soldiers of Arcadia and deeply inherits the blood of the Sword Saint from the Oswald family.

"The 'Lion Marquis' is my opponent. My sword will sing."

The 'Upper' position must be defended at all costs, as it is a crucial offensive stronghold. They cannot afford to relinquish it under any circumstances. It is a bold repositioning, but it makes sense. Besides Gilbert, who else could possibly stop the 'Lion Marquis'?

"The 'Lion Marquis', huh? I'm just a mercenary now."

Yuwain gave a wry smile as he looked at the eager Gilbert's troops.

"One cannot change their birth. Blood speaks the truth. I, Yuwain, the Knight-King of the Twelve of Garnia, will defeat you in the name of Oswald!"

In the far west, the land across the sea was called Garnia. There, many nations rose and fell, one after another. About ten years ago, twelve of these states unified into a single kingdom. Their kings were mostly young and powerful. They were constantly at war, and there were times when all twelve states were embroiled in conflict. When they crossed the sea to invade Lorencia, they were ultimately routed, but their valor earned them the title of 'Knight-Kings', and their martial reputation echoed even in the distant land of Arcadia.

One of them was the 'Lion Marquis', Yuwain. Among the twelve Knight-Kings, he was known as the most aggressive and ruthless in battle. It's puzzling why such a man would be part of a mercenary company, serving under Volf, but one thing is clear.

"Knowing I am the 'Lion Marquis', do you still think you can win?"

"Of course! The sword of Oswald knows no defeat!"

The fighting spirit rose between the two. The aura of the generals permeated their respective armies. On one side, there were countless swords, led by the renowned white-bladed sword of Arcadia. On the other, a pack of wolves led by a silver-golden lion, roaring.

The swords and the lion. The two collided.

༺༻

Facing Nika was still Gregor. They both knew each other's tactics, so neither wanted to engage in a full-fledged battle. Gregor, under the orders of Gilbert (William), was avoiding direct confrontation and maintaining a distance for a ranged battle. Nika, too, did not want to risk losing troops by making an ill-advised aggressive move against a geographically advantageous opponent.

As a result, the battlefield was in a stalemate. The two generals–

"It's boring."

They were likely to end the day without ever crossing blades.

༺༻

Anselm was responsible for defending the critical position that Gilbert had been guarding. It was rare for the enemy forces to penetrate this far, so Anselm didn't have much to do. However, he couldn't leave his post, so he did what he could.

"The earth must be carefully mounded. The quality of that wall will determine our fate."

Fortifying the stronghold. Both Gilbert and Anselm were rather careless about such matters. The Arcadian soldiers, especially the professional military, had never done this kind of construction work before. However, that was not the case in all parts of the world. In the great nation of Galias, such civil engineering skills were considered a necessary accomplishment for soldiers, and that was one of the country's strengths.

"Galias is always seeking innovation. There are many things we can learn from them, even in the military sphere."

Until half a century ago, Galias was not particularly outstanding among the Seven Kingdoms. But after the accession of the "Innovation King," in just ten years it transformed into the largest of the Seven Kingdoms and has remained a superpower ever since.

The Seven Kingdoms place great importance on pride, protocol, customs, and traditions. Galias, on the other hand, has managed to abandon these. That's why they are unencumbered and rational. In politics, commerce, and the military as well -

That is how Galian soldiers came to engage in civil engineering work. If the local soldiers can handle this, there's no need to hire laborers, saving both time and money. Time is of the essence in warfare, as every second can mean the difference between life and death.

"The reason for our defeat yesterday was the flimsiness of our main camp. Our carelessness created such an opening. We must not let our guard down, for we have no one else to rely on."

This was presented by William. This is Galias' strength, the greatest advantage they hold over the other Seven Kingdoms. It's something that others cannot afford to ignore. Gregor and Gilbert made sour faces, but the full authority of the strategy had already been given to William. They had no choice but to accept it.

William Livius' plan had no brilliance to it. But the royal road is a dirty thing. To walk its middle without slack... There is no better strategy than this.

William's plan this time had no extraordinary tactics. Completely foregoing offense and focusing solely on defense deviates from orthodoxy, but it's not an extraordinary tactic. Centering the army around spears and bows rather than swords is not an extraordinary tactic either. Effectively utilizing the terrain is also not an extraordinary tactic, but the royal road. However, an army that can properly execute all these elements is formidable.

The Royal Road is strong, and that's why it's the Royal Road.

The black wolves will surely feel this. William, who has studied and mastered the military foundations of armies around the world and knows all the royal roads, has forged his own royal road from among them. With a solid foundation and meticulous construction, the ultimate royal road leaves no room for extraordinary tactics.

Indeed... they are strong.

Anselm deeply inhaled the scent of a bloodied bandage he had somehow acquired, his face flushing slightly.

"Ah, splendid."

He praised, though the target and intent were known to Anselm alone.

Though unfamiliar with the construction work, Anselm's innate leadership and versatility allowed the fortifications to take shape quite nicely by sunset.

༺༻

The battlefield had reached a stalemate. With the piece that was William missing, the Arcadian army was playing a man down, but their sturdy defense and the multiple layers of fortifications that remained even if breached were proving too much for the Netherlux army (under Volf's command) to overcome. Their speed, usually their greatest strength, was nullified by the heavyweight Arcadian defenses - a situation that even the veteran Black Mercenary Corps couldn't fully break through.

By the third day, Volf's forces were the only ones able to make inroads, but with no reinforcements, they couldn't press the advantage and were forced to retreat.

On the fourth day, after planning countermeasures, Volf and Nika launched an assault on Gregor's lines. They aimed to break through decisively, but Gregor's skilled defensive maneuvering bought time for other units to arrive and reinforce, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides.

On the fifth day, they tried an unconventional tactic - instead of the 'Upper' position, Volf's forces, minus Yuwain, tried to swiftly break through a key point near the widening river from the 'Lower' position. This surprised the Arcadian army, but Anselm's well-prepared defenses negated their speed, and the Arcadians were able to respond effectively. Anselm's steadfast diligence in staying ready, even when not actively engaged, had prevented defeat.

And so the battle dragged on, with both sides steadily bleeding troops.

"...This is the first time I've faced an opponent who's been so relentless in their withdrawal."

Volf scratched his head at the seemingly hopeless situation. But it wasn't all bad. The casualty rates between the attacking Netherlux and the defending Arcadians were about even. Volf's skill as a commander was keeping them at parity in a situation that should have favored the defenders.

"It's not that I don't want to win. But there's no sign of reinforcements coming either. Well, if reinforcements were to come, I could just threaten the young master a bit and borrow some. The open ground is still just minor skirmishes, and moving things around wouldn't cause too much trouble. Of course, losing control of the open ground would be a gamble, but..."

Staying on the defensive means they won't lose, but it also means they can't win. With both sides roughly equal in numbers and attrition, it's hard to call this an Arcadian advantage. In fact, if they keep this up, a 'hole' in their defenses will eventually appear. William, who is no fool, must have realized this.

"I can't read his intentions. It's obvious he's stalling, but... what comes after that?"

A battle with no end in sight. This is the kind of war the Arcadians are waging. If they just hunker down, they'll eventually collapse. This truth applies to all things.

"To recover from injuries? No, that can't be enough to hold an army back. There must be a goal, a target. It can't be that there isn't one. That white-masked fellow..."

Volf was troubled by the trust he had in the white-masked man as an enemy.

༺༻

"Is it about time, then?"

William, his injuries mostly healed, was removing the last of his bandages. Of course, William's participation alone wouldn't fundamentally resolve the situation. The 'goal' lay elsewhere.

"I'll join the fight tomorrow too. I'll try to shake things up a bit."

William affectionately patted the head of the remorseful-looking Carl.

"Really, how long are you going to keep moping around? That was the right thing to do. Gregor and Anselm probably understood. Someone like Hilda was probably suspicious from the start. It's hard to hide that kind of thing from them. It's actually easier if it's out in the open. ...Come to think of it, I feel like I've been saying the same thing for days now."

The dejected Carl.

"Or do you think I'll just leave you?"

Carl flinched. Yes, of course Carl was remorseful about his own helplessness, his incompatibility with William, and the exposure of their relationship. But the real underlying concern was something else.

"But...there's no reason for you to stay with me anymore."

Carl wasn't stupid. He had long since realized the pragmatic reasons for William's association with him. His friendship with William was beyond doubt. And yet, he felt a little uneasy. Would William, possessed of both martial and intellectual prowess, really continue to be by Carl's side forever? Even when their relationship was exposed, William's innate 'power' convinced Gregor and the others. Was there still a place for Carl in that? As a mere second son of a baron, a being with only minimal utility—

"Is that all our relationship was to you? That's... a bit saddening."

William had a sorrowful look on his face, surprising Carl.

"The days I spent with you, Carl, were full of surprises for me. Even though you're a noble, you treated me as an equal, no different from a commoner. That alone was astonishing and made me happy. Even before coming here, and after arriving, I was treated like a foreigner by everyone. As an outsider, with my white hair, that's how I was regarded."

William embraced Carl tenderly. Carl was even more surprised.

"Meeting you saved me. Class and birth aren't everything. Even between a commoner like myself and the noble Carl, friendship can blossom. I was able to learn that such things are possible."

The warmth from William reached Carl, and he felt his eyes welling up.

"I am your sword. And I wish to be your eternal friend. Is that not acceptable?"

"I-I'm sorry, William. I, I, waaaaah!"

As the crying Carl turned away, William's expression—

What a pain in the ass. Seriously.

—behind the kind embrace, was completely clear-eyed.

There's no way I'd be able to leave you, now that I've started a business under the Taylor family. At least try to use that brain of yours, you stupid young master.

The Taylor family still had value to William. Something the other houses lacked—money.

I'll keep using you for as long as I can. Until you become nothing but an empty shell, you hear?

William only had two true friends. Everyone else was a mere object to be consumed. Carl was not yet ripe for consumption. That was all.

If you had met the me from the days of slavery, you probably would have looked at me with eyes of pure disgust.

William did not believe in that 'gaze.' He would never forget it.

༺༻

Yet another day of a gradual stalemate on the battlefield. Both the attacking and defending forces seemed to have lost some of their focus. Excluding Gregor and Yuwain, who were engaged in a fierce struggle in the 'Upper' position, the rest of the armies were clearly growing weary of the war of attrition. As Volf was maintaining a slight advantage, he was not making significant tactical adjustments, content to simply push forward in the center.

"Alright then, let's go full throttle."

However—

True to the moniker of the 'Black Wolf', Volf's forces launched a swift, ferocious, and powerful assault. While not quite collapsing the center, the troops under Volf's command were undeniably formidable. Once engaged, they would break through the rain of arrows, using their shields as umbrellas, and swiftly charge into the enemy lines, ravaging them.

"I may not fully grasp their intentions, but at this rate, we'll end up devouring them."

Volf's relentless offensive was shifting the complexion of the center.

༺༻

"Tch, that puppet brat again. I'm starting to get tired of this."

Before Nika was Gregor's formation. As Anselm had demonstrated, even a hastily constructed fortification had gained considerable effectiveness. Results speak for themselves, and following William's manual, Gregor had erected a small earthen castle.

Nika was struggling to break through this, unable to capture it even after several days. The attrition rate here was heavily in Gregor's favor, which Nika found rather unpleasant.

"Damn it! This is so annoying! Come out already, you recluse!"

Nika's shouts did not move Gregor at all.

This is easy, huh?

From the experience of battle, it was clear. The wealth of knowledge William had accumulated from many books was equal to a thousand, nay, ten thousand experiences. By distilling the best parts and putting them into clear writing, the effect on the Arcadian army's mentality on this battlefield was astounding.

If we organize properly, I don't feel like we'll lose.

A head-on confrontation would inevitably lead to a grueling battle. Their skills were roughly on par. Mortal danger was a constant companion. Gregor's usual fighting style was chivalrous and aristocratic, hardly rational. But now, Gregor was experiencing the effectiveness of rationality.

"Even if you doubled the number, I don't feel like we'd fall."

Gregor's troops had solid foundations. Even the forces led by Nika couldn't fully suppress them on the open ground. The defending side had created absolutely favorable conditions. There was no defeat on this battlefield. At least in Gregor's assessment, he didn't feel like losing.

"And today... it's a bit entertaining, too. Hehehe."

Gregor's ominous chuckle made his subordinates feel a little uneasy.

༺༻

Appearing before Volf was a fortification of a distinctly different atmosphere. Utilizing a mixture of wood and stone, the quality was high. This was no hastily thrown together structure, but one that had been painstakingly constructed, anticipating the need to hold this position. Volf knew only one person capable of such foresight.

"Alright! Let's start over, White Mask!"

White Mask. William Livius looked down upon Volf from atop the earthen castle. Even through the mask, his composure was evident. His health seemed to be nearly fully restored, his complexion healthy, with no visible injuries.

"If you make it this far, I'll deign to play with you."

William's provocation. Of course, Volf—

"Insolent brat!"

took the bait. Truly a magnificent fortification. To have constructed something so impressive in such a short time, William must possess remarkable talent. Everything was executed with such seamlessness. But even so, Volf did not doubt his own superiority. He believed he could win, that he could break through.

"I'll crush your assault!"

Utilizing his trademark speed, Volf launched a fierce charge. Speed is the lifeblood of the battlefield. Even with his cavalry restricted, the wolves' lightning pace knew no bounds.

"Impressive."

Shielding against the arrows was nothing new. But to move so swiftly in that state, employing such varied tactics, was admirable. In mountainous terrain, arrows did not possess the same potency as on open ground. And therein lay an opportunity to exploit.

"Shhhrrrrk!"

As long as one was careful of the path, the rain of arrows posed no threat. Obstacles above and below were plentiful in the mountains. Even the bow, the premier ranged weapon on open ground, was rendered impotent by the mere presence of a single tree, branch, or leaf.

Volf did not miss the opening that had presented itself.

"Time to join the party!"

His speed was terrifying. In a blink, Volf had closed the distance. As long as one properly understood how to evade, the fearsome arrows posed no issue. And once inside -

"Shall we have a rematch... White Mask?"

Volf's dual swords swiftly decapitated two soldiers, creating a breach through which his forces poured into William's earthen castle. Fast and powerful.

From atop the castle, William witnessed this sight. Volf's speed was indeed a formidable challenge. His individual speed, as well as the pace at which he led his troops, were on another level.

"Hmph. You're not the one I have to deal with."

But William had prepared a strategy to crush this as well.

White and black. This time, it would be a clash of armies.