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◈ The Medieval Heretic King is Too Good at Developing ◈

Chapter 9: The Siege of Sternberg (3)

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A secluded back alley of Sternberg Castle.

Even the shouts and thunderous crashes shaking the castle walls seemed impossibly faint here.

Taking advantage of the darkness, three shadows moved in perfect coordination.

With the sounds of battle erupting outside, their footsteps were filled with urgency.

"H-hey! Did you hear that? Don't tell me that brat of a lord is actually winning?"

When one of them asked anxiously, the man who appeared to be their leader barked at him.

"Shut up! That means we need to hurry even more! We have to open the gates from inside so great Comrade Hus's army can get in!"

"But... what if the soldiers catch us...?"

"Life is nothing compared to the cause! It's far more glorious to die a martyr under the Lord's name than serve that filthy Catholic lord!"

That was when someone stepped out of the darkness and blocked their path.

"Don't move."

"W-who are you?!"

The person who emerged from the shadows was a handsome, black-haired youth standing at the boundary between boyhood and manhood.

"I thought the way your eyes kept darting around was suspicious. Looks like you didn't disappoint."

The boy's languid yet razor-sharp voice rang through the alley.

"W-what? You've been watching us from the beginning? How?"

"It takes a spy to recognize a spy."

"What? What does that..."

Then the companion beside him recognized the boy's face and shouted.

"Boss! That's the one who was leading the refugees to the church earlier!"

"Really? Even better! That means he's a lackey of that pagan lord!"

The leader drew a dagger from inside his coat and charged viciously.

"Die, you filthy Catholic dog!"

At that instant, the boy's hand moved to the sword at his waist.

Shhk!

With a sharp scrape from the scabbard, a single flash split the narrow alley.

The three charging men froze as though nailed in place. Then thin red lines appeared across their necks and chests, and beads of blood slowly formed along them.

"Ghk...!"

Without even realizing what had happened, the three bodies collapsed at once, spraying blood like fountains.

The boy looked indifferently at the corpses strewn across the alley floor, then raised his head toward the castle walls.

At that very moment, a massive cheer erupted from above, loud enough to shake the entire castle.

"Aaaah!"

"The enemy is retreating! We won!"

"Long live the lord! Long live Sternberg!"

Hearing it, a faint smile formed on the lips of the boy, János.

"We really won? I didn't dare hope, but..."

János Hunyadi.

A man who would one day be called Europe's shield and the White Knight for standing against the Ottoman Empire.

The son of a loyal retainer serving Sigismund, King of Hungary, and a boy destined to become a legend himself.

He looked at the lord atop the walls with reverence in his eyes.

"My lord is a truly remarkable person. Remarkable enough that I want to stay by his side and keep watching."

János melted into the darkness.

Soon, only three corpses that had not yet gone cold remained in the dark back alley.

* * *

"The enemy is retreating!"

"Those Hussite bastards... those devilish bastards are running away!"

At one soldier's cry, cheers loud enough to tear throats apart erupted along the castle walls.

Only moments ago, the soldiers had been terrified of death.

Now, as though that fear had never existed, they embraced one another, tossed off their helmets, and roared beneath Sternberg's banner.

Their cheers brimmed with relief and joy.

I felt the same.

"We won..."

Below the walls, the foul stench of burning corpses stabbed at my nose.

"..."

I had killed people with scientific knowledge. Hundreds of them.

My stomach churned. Yet cheers rang out from every direction. There was no longer any fear of death on the soldiers' faces. They had hope.

Within that sickening reality, a strange sense of fulfillment and responsibility weighed heavily on my heart.

'...Is this the weight of being a lord?'

Then one soldier, drunk on victory and unable to contain his excitement, shouted.

"My lord! This is our chance! We should strike the rear of those fleeing Hussite bastards!"

"That's right! Let's wipe out every last one of those heretics while we can!"

Cries of agreement rose from all around, but I did not get swept up in their fervor.

"No. We will not pursue them."

The soldiers fell silent at my words, but my decision had already been made.

'This wasn't a victory. We only survived.'

It was too early to celebrate. Of the countless ridges we still had to cross, we had only overcome one.

I looked around. Wounded men lay scattered everywhere, and the castle walls had been battered by battle. That was the reality of this castle.

"Oh, is it over already?"

János had appeared before I noticed, climbing onto the walls with a slightly awkward look. Not a speck of dust stained his clothes.

"This is only the beginning. I thought you'd run away scared. Where were you, and what were you doing until now?"

"Come on, where would I go after leaving my lord's side? I saw some trash lying around inside the castle, so I just took it somewhere out of sight."

János shrugged jokingly, then nodded toward the retreating Hussites.

"Still, are you really not going to chase them? It seems a shame to let them go like that."

I shook my head.

"They were defeated, but they weren't wiped out. They still have hundreds of able-bodied soldiers. What if they recover their wits, lure our pursuing forces in, and surround us instead?"

János nodded, looking convinced.

"Hmm... that's true."

"The enemy commander survived, so they'll surely attack again soon. Now isn't the time to get drunk on victory. Cleaning up after the battle comes first."

I gave the soldiers a firm order.

"Hurry and treat the wounded. Recover the fallen with honor!"

"Y-yes, my lord!"

At my command, the soldiers began moving in an orderly fashion.

* * *

Even after the battle ended, the castle remained a frantic bustle of activity.

Under Sir Kuno and Konrad's direction, the aftermath was handled and the damage reported.

The result was almost miraculous. Against nearly a thousand enemies, our losses amounted to only seven wounded and one dead.

The sole fatality had been a volunteer recruited for this battle. Amid the confusion, he had been unlucky enough to lose his life to a stray arrow.

The soldier's sacrifice was tragic, but it had been an overwhelming victory by anyone's measure. Everyone in the castle could barely contain their joy.

That joy lasted only so long.

By evening, the retainers gathered in my office wore grim expressions instead of a victor's ease.

Konrad continued his report with a stiff expression.

"We are nearly out of arrows. Fewer than a hundred remain. I cannot guarantee we can hold through the next battle."

"What about the firebombs?"

"We used more than half of them. Only around thirty bottles remain."

I pressed hard against my throbbing temples.

"It will be difficult to hold them off like this next time..."

Unless the enemy were fools, they would surely prepare countermeasures against the firebombs before their next attack.

They might cover their siege engines with wet hides, or even build catapults and bombard us from afar.

Sir Kuno added in a worried voice.

"My lord, that is not all. The soldiers' exhaustion has reached its limit. Until a little while ago, they were intoxicated by victory, but now they are all utterly spent and on the verge of collapsing."

He was right. Looking down from the walls, I saw soldiers scattered throughout the castle, forcing themselves to stand watch.

They had endured days of hard labor, followed by a fierce battle without a moment's rest. Their minds and bodies had long since been drained dry.

Yet with no way of knowing when the Hussites would attack again, I could not give them rest.

"How are our food supplies?"

"We can last another three days, but... if the siege drags on, I cannot promise anything."

It was a complete disaster. Our supplies, food, and even the soldiers' strength were all running out.

Our first victory had been sweet, but it had only been the result of a surprise attack. It had not changed the desperate situation facing this castle.

'In the end, it's only a matter of time. At this rate, we'll be the ones who wither away and die.'

The incendiary attack had succeeded, but it was not enough. To win a war, I needed something with far more explosive power.

I needed another option. Something more powerful and reliable than firebombs. A weapon with such overwhelming destructive force that the enemy would not even dare think of fighting.

When that thought reached me, one word crossed my mind.

'Gunpowder.'

Yes, gunpowder. Black powder. The substance that had transformed the history of human warfare.

Its method of production was surprisingly simple. Potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal. All I had to do was mix the three in the right proportions.

Charcoal was everywhere in the castle. In the smithy, the kitchen, and every fireplace.

What about sulfur? It was used in alchemy and medicine, so there was a chance that even a small amount had been stored somewhere in the castle.

The problem was potassium nitrate, or Saltpeter. Obtaining it in large quantities in this era was nearly impossible.

But... it could be made. It formed naturally in places rich in nitrogen compounds, such as old earthen walls, caves, or compost heaps.

Especially in places where animal droppings and human urine had accumulated and rotted for a long time.

The moment that thought occurred to me, I shot to my feet.

"Konrad."

"Yes, my lord."

"Is there anywhere in the castle where sulfur is stored? Even a very small amount will do."

Konrad tilted his head at the unexpected question.

"Sulfur? Well... there should only be a little in the infirmary, used to treat skin diseases. But what do you intend to use it for...?"

"Bring all of it to my workshop. And Sir Kuno."

"Just give the order!"

"Choose ten of the strongest soldiers with the strongest stomachs. Give them shovels and sacks. Then... send them to the oldest stable and latrine in the castle."

"Pardon? The l-latrine?"

A look of bewilderment crossed Kuno's face.

"Yes. Tell them to scrape together all the damp soil beneath the walls and the sediment from the floors. As much as they can."

At my instructions, Konrad and Kuno, even János standing beside them, stared at me in shock. They clearly thought their lord had gone mad again.

"M-my lord, forgive me, but... where exactly do you intend to use those filthy things...?"

"Don't ask questions. Do as I say. All our lives depend on this."

My firm voice prevented them from asking anything further, and they carried out the orders.

A little later, the old shed that had served as my private workshop was filled with new materials.

A small jar of yellow sulfur powder from the infirmary, fine charcoal powder ground at the smithy, and a stinking pile of dirt the soldiers had gathered while holding their noses.

János asked, looking as though he might vomit at any moment.

"Urk... my lord, what on earth are you planning to make with this?"

"Be quiet and watch."

First, I poured the pile of dirt into a large barrel, added water, and stirred it. This was the process of separating potassium nitrate from the muddy water.

After leaving the muddy water still so the sediment could settle, I carefully poured off only the clear water and placed it in a pot to boil.

Bubble, bubble...

As the water evaporated, white crystals slowly formed at the bottom of the pot. Saltpeter. Its purity was low, but it would have to do for now.

I put the Saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur I had obtained into a mortar and began grinding them. The ratio was perfectly imprinted in my mind.

Seventy-five percent potassium nitrate, fifteen percent charcoal, ten percent sulfur. The golden ratio for black powder.

Scrape, scrape...

The three powders blended into a black mixture. János watched while holding his breath.

At last, when the mixing was complete, I took a handful of the finished powder and carefully placed it on the bare ground outside the shed. Then I struck sparks with a flint.

Sizzle!

János instinctively took a step back.

Then, the next moment.

Whoosh!

The gray-black powder flared up in a blinding flash. Thick white smoke spread out, along with the sharp smell of sulfur.

Only a black scorch mark remained on the ground.

"......!"

János's jaw fell open. Unable to understand what he had just witnessed, he could only stand there blankly.

"W-what is this, my lord? Is it really what I think it is?"

I brushed off my blackened fingers and smiled faintly.

"It's what you think it is. Our new trump card."

If I put this into a suitable container, it would make an excellent bomb.

But even that was not enough. Gunpowder was, quite literally, only a last resort. It would not be enough on its own to turn the tide of battle.

I looked up at the castle walls.

The joy of victory had been brief. Deep exhaustion and fear of the coming battle were already plain on the soldiers' faces.

'Will they be able to fight like this again? Once morale breaks, it collapses beyond control. More important than the weapon is the heart of the person using it.'

Having made up my mind, I carefully packed the newly made gunpowder into a leather pouch.

"János, Sir Kuno. Follow me."

"Yes, of course, but... where are we going?"

"To the church."

János tilted his head curiously.

"Are you going to pray to God for victory? I didn't think you had that side to you, my lord."

"No. I don't do such meaningless things."

Another blasphemous statement, unimaginable in this era, followed. Sir Kuno's face turned pale.

As a devout believer, my words must have sounded like sacrilege. Still, he kept silent.

My goal was clear. I did not need a stone building. I needed the people inside it.

"I'm going to meet the people of the domain."

Footnotes:

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