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Translator: Abood

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◈ Friedrich's Battlefield

Chapter 111: The Power Behind the Scenes

It was estimated that from the time the displaced people of southern Novakia reached the capital Cēsis and the royal house, upon learning of the devastation of the south, began both to deal with the refugees and hasten preparations for their advance, at least three weeks would pass, two at the very earliest.

With that in mind, the Ferdinand Regiment set a limit of ten days, during which they burned as many settlements as possible.

Their greatest enemy was time. Each detachment visited at least two villages a day, sometimes as many as four, driving out the villagers after making them gather their belongings, then setting the villages ablaze.

For towns of larger size, multiple detachments combined to carry out the task. The longer the scorched-earth campaign went on, the more accustomed Friedrich and his men became to their own merciless conduct.

Rumors of their actions spread throughout southern Novakia, so that in the final days they sometimes found villages already abandoned when they arrived, or villagers having gathered their possessions without being told. This improved their efficiency.

Even so, by the end of the ten-day operation, fatigue had built up. They lived constantly on guard, sleeping only in shifts, taking turns to doze inside houses soon to be burned.

Their meals consisted of bread, vegetables, or dried meat seized on the spot, eaten on the move. Baths were out of the question; at most they wiped their bodies and hair with water. And throughout, they had to maintain an unyielding front, so as not to be despised by the locals.

After ten days of this, when they finally returned to the border fortress, those who had taken part in the operation were utterly spent.

Ordinarily, the Edelstein army only conducted operations within its own lands, up to the frontier. It was for this reason that supply lines up to the border were solidly maintained, and each regiment could exert its full strength in a stable environment.

For the knights and soldiers of the Ferdinand Regiment, ten days of harsh duties in territory where proper supply lines could not reach, an unbroken stretch of physical and mental exhaustion, was something none had experienced before. The toll it took was greater than anyone had imagined.

“…At last we can have a real bath, Friedrich.”

“Yes. I can’t wait to wash this sweat away.”

Having returned to the encampment north of the border fortress, now reinforced by the later-arriving Albrecht Regiment and supply units, and established as the staging point for the coming decisive battle, Friedrich spoke with Yurika as they disbanded their unit and allowed themselves a moment’s rest.

“Come on, food first before that.”

“I’m starving…”

“Aye. And not just hunger, the endless tasteless rations have worn me down as well. I want something warm in my stomach, above all.”

Yarg replied lightly, Gunther muttered under his breath, and Oliver gave a confirming nod to their conversation.

Having given a brief report to his foster father Matthias immediately upon arrival, Friedrich had been granted leave to rest.

With weariness plain upon their faces, the knights who had shared in the campaign walked together to the supply unit. There, the soldiers assigned to cooking quickly served them hot soup and freshly baked bread for supper.

“…It really sinks into a tired body.”

“Yeah. It’s unbelievably good. This might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Lifting spoonfuls of soup rich with meat and vegetables to their mouths, Friedrich and Yurika let out deep sighs. With a hot meal in their stomachs, it felt as if the tension that had gripped them for ten days at last began to loosen.

“Truly, on the battlefield there’s nothing better than the meals the supply corps makes. Always reliable, always tasty.”

“No wonder they’re called the strongest unit in the kingdom’s army.”

So said Oliver and Yarg, while beside them Gunther and the other knights of their squad devoured the food with abandon.

Though not a direct fighting force, the supply unit was indispensable to the army, responsible for transporting food, fodder, and other provisions, and for running the camps in the rear of the battlefield.

At times, they also handled the cooking. And they were famous for producing meals far superior to those prepared by hired cooks or conscripted locals.

It was said that when the corps was first established, a former mercenary officer skilled in camp cooking had passed down his recipes, which were still preserved within the unit.

On campaign, the combat units were held captive by their stomachs, and the work of the supply corps directly affected morale, and by extension, victory or defeat.

Everyone knew this, which was why even the fiercest warriors treated them with the utmost respect. For this reason, the supply corps was half-jokingly, half-seriously called ‘the strongest unit in the royal army.’

Returning from their mission to a settled encampment and a hot meal, Friedrich and the others felt more keenly than ever the blessing of such comforts.

“Sir Friedrich Hosenfeld. And all of you as well. You have my thanks for enduring such a harsh duty.”

As they ate, a man approached and spoke to them.

“Lord Balzer!”

“Ah, please, remain seated, all of you. You must be exhausted.”

So said Randolf Balzer, Baron, in a gentle tone to Friedrich and the others, who had half-risen to greet him. He was the overall commander of the supply corps.

“How is it—your first hot meal in some time?”

“…We are truly grateful. Thanks to this, we can restore our strength. We’ve come to realize how great the presence of the supply corps is in sustaining the battlefield.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Then our efforts are worthwhile.”

He spoke with an expression unusually mild for a soldier, but Randolf himself was no ordinary knight.

The previous Baron Balzer had been known purely as a man of arms, but the current baron displayed his talents not in combat, but in the work of the rear.

Appointed as commander of the supply corps in recognition of his abilities, he had since exercised them to the fullest, sustaining the logistics of the royal army.

In peacetime he maintained the flow of supplies, and in war he skillfully directed the detachments under his command according to the movements of the fighting units, ensuring they never lacked what they needed.

His competence and the trust he had earned for his work were such that the royal house itself had granted him authority to revise and adjust supply plans at his own discretion.

In the defense of the Kingdom of Edelstein, Randolf had shown himself to be the shadow power, achieving immense results behind the scenes.

“Other units are also returning one after another. For now, there have been injuries from civilian resistance, but no deaths. It’s fortunate you are all safe as well. For us too, the lighter the load on the return journey, the better.”

On the battlefield, if soldiers were killed, it was also the duty of the supply corps to recover their bodies and bring them home. Thus among them, the phrase ‘the lighter the load on the return, the better’ had become a kind of maxim.

“That is good news. We too are relieved that there is nothing for us to consign into the care of the supply corps.”

“Hahaha, as expected of the son of Count Hosenfeld, you put it well. …Now then, I shall not keep you longer. Baths have been prepared within the fortress, so please, take the night to rest and recover your strength.”

With a courteous smile, Randolf took his leave from Friedrich and the others.

Footnotes:

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