WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Abood

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◈ Friedrich's Battlefield

Chapter 83: Battle of Arnsberg Fortress (1)

After sending back the Arelian messenger, Christopher, realizing it would be too dangerous to remain exposed on the walls under stray arrows, withdrew with his officials to the sturdy stone main hall.

“In the end, the ambassador never fled, did he? What do you think, Diethelm?”

“...Indeed, that imperial noble seems to have some grit. At this point, I cannot deny it.”

Diethelm carefully chose his words in front of his subordinates but acknowledged Christopher’s courage with a clearly displeased expression. Joseph laughed heartily at this, which only made Diethelm’s face even grimmer.

“Ah, looks like the enemy is making a move while you’re laughing... Listen up, all of you! Fight hard! Beat those Arelian bastards until they never dare speak so arrogantly again!”

Joseph’s booming voice echoed along the western walls of the fortress, rallying the troops who responded with spirited cheers.

Though the battle was still somewhat like an extension of minor skirmishes, it had been a long time since Arnsberg Fortress itself became a battlefield. The last time the fortress saw a defense was when the Kingdom of Loire was still a neighboring nation, and they made a desperate attempt to retake it.

For the veteran knights and soldiers who remembered those days, this was a rare large-scale battle at their stronghold. For those who joined afterward, it was the moment to finally put repeated fortress defense drills into practice. Everyone’s morale soared.

Not only the regular soldiers but also the conscripts showed high spirits. Being citizens of the western royal domain, they underwent regular training, and some had even experienced real combat in minor skirmishes. Knowing that their homes lay just behind the fortress, they had courage and resolve rivaling that of the professional soldiers.

On the walls stood heavily armored knights and soldiers wielding shields and swords. Crossbowmen and stone-throwers were also present. Behind them, inside the fortress, were the rotation troops, rear support personnel, and archers. The defensive formation was impeccable.

Opposing them, the Arelian army placed their archers with wide spacing in the vanguard, followed immediately by infantry, likely the shock troops. Further behind, several mobile ballistae and small catapults could be seen—siege weapons prepared for assault.

The enemy probably had no real intention of capturing Arnsberg Fortress, yet they appeared to be taking the siege seriously, at least superficially.

“Those conscripted Arelian peasants are pitiful. Forced into a battle originally meant only to uphold the foreign royal family’s pride, sent to charge a hopeless fight with no chance of success.”

Joseph muttered, gazing toward the enemy ranks with a sigh.

Of the enemy infantry numbering around fifteen hundred, about a thousand, two-thirds were conscripts drawn from the common folk of the Loire region. Judging from the quality of their equipment, it seemed the conscripts were positioned at the front line, while the regular soldiers remained behind.

This formation was likely designed to minimize the loss of precious regular troops, but it was undoubtedly harsh treatment for the conscripts, used as mere cannon fodder.

Though there were no rumors that Marquis Montesque was a cruel commander who wasted his troops recklessly, no matter how skillfully the enemy fought under his command, it seemed inevitable that the conscripts would suffer the greatest losses.

Soon, the enemy halted their advance. Their lines had entered the range of our archers, and likewise, our fortress lay within the range of their archers.

“Archers, ready!”

From atop the walls, the Hildegard Regiment’s archery battalion commander confirmed the distance and called out loudly. On his command, the archers, composed of both royal soldiers and conscripted hunters, nocked their arrows and took aim with a curved shot.

“Fire!”

The volley of arrows flew in graceful arcs, raining down on the enemy lines. The front-line archers, and even the infantry behind them, were struck by the arrow storm.

The enemy did not simply take the hits. Almost simultaneously, about five hundred enemy archers released a volley of arrows in return.

“Incoming enemy arrows! Prepare yourselves!”

By Joseph’s order, the knights and soldiers on the walls raised their shields to cover their heads and torsos. The rotation troops positioned just below the walls pressed their bodies close against the fortress side, hiding in the blind spots of the incoming arrows.

Among the rear support personnel, those carrying large shields took defensive stances, while others took cover behind them. Those who couldn’t do either dropped flat on the spot.

The archers, however, did not take defensive or evasive actions. Instead of hiding or dodging enemy arrows, they kept firing as fast as possible to strike at the enemy archers themselves and unsettle them.

A fierce volley of arrows continued. Those struck by enemy fire fell, crying out in pain, while the more unfortunate died outright. Rear support units, mostly composed of conscripts, hurried to evacuate the wounded to safer indoor areas or further back.

They lifted the injured onto stretchers carried by two men, guarded closely by those with large shields.

Those wounded who collapsed on the walls were carried down by nearby soldiers. Rear support troops escorted them to safety, while rotation troops filled the defensive gaps left behind.

Rear support efforts were not limited to our troops alone. True to Ambassador Christopher’s prior declaration, the imperial soldiers were assisting as well. Amidst rear support mostly staffed by conscripts, these imperial knights, clad fully in armor, had little worry of death even if stray arrows came their way.

Under the rain of arrows falling on the Kingdom of Arelia’s camp, the conscripts were already wavering and losing morale.

Though numbering a full thousand, their equipment was shabby at best. Wearing even one piece such as a helmet, chainmail, or leather armor was considered a luxury. Some had nothing more than layered clothing or stuffed folded cloth inside their garments. None possessed sturdy metal armor capable of repelling arrows.

Their weapons were old but serviceable swords or spears, yet no shields were issued. A few carried homemade shields, simple wooden boards with handles, but these were few in number. Positioned within enemy archers’ range but still awaiting a charge order, most could only stand rigidly and pray to avoid being struck.

Because the arrows were fired in an arc, their hit rate was low and casualties were not terribly high. Still, seeing comrades nearby fall, bleed, and scream in pain greatly frightened these amateur conscripts.

Forced into service with barely any training, they might well have broken and fled by this point if not flanked front and back by regular soldiers.

“Do not falter over this! Remember your reward! Everyone who charges will receive one silver coin! Those who storm the fortress will receive one large silver coin! Anyone who kills a knight will also get one large silver coin! Kill the enemy commander and you shall be ennobled! I swear by my house’s name, I will keep my promise!”

At that moment, it was none other than Marquis Robert Montesque himself who advanced to the position of the conscripts and called out to them. Though clad in full armor and unlikely to die easily, he rode calmly on horseback through the rain of arrows alongside a few guards as he spoke.

Hearing his words, the conscripts’ morale recovered somewhat. They fixed their eyes on the fortress ahead without wavering, some even adopting expressions full of fighting spirit.

The recruitment was conducted by city or village units, and at that time it had been explained that rewards would be given based on performance. As a result, mostly impoverished commoners and younger sons without inheritance willingly filled the recruitment quotas.

If they succeeded, they could earn a considerable sum of money and perhaps turn their lives around. Such hope stirred the ambitions of the conscripts, giving them renewed courage to face the battle once more.

The effect of their supreme commander Robert stepping forward personally was also significant. The presence of a famed general who had triumphed in many battles raised the morale of his troops by several degrees, simply by being there.

“Now, our siege weapons will strike the enemy fortress! To support your charge, we shall deliver an overwhelmingly powerful blow to the enemy!”

Immediately after Robert’s shout, four ballistae and four small catapults, fixed firmly to the ground and ready to fire, unleashed their first attack. Spears as long as a man’s arm and projectiles the size of a human torso, each wrapped in flames, flew over the heads of infantry and archers alike and slammed into Arnsberg Fortress.

At the sight of such formidable power, the conscripts murmured their admiration.

Footnotes:

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