Game of the Monarch Chapter 55– Into a Civil War (2)

Milton marveled at her meticulousness. He himself would not have been able to discern her identity if not for his peculiar ability.

Princes Leila continued her explanation as Milton remained awestruck.

“But the stakes have changed in recent times. Even if the Second Prince were to be eliminated, we cannot stop the civil war.”

“How so?”

“The Hildess Republic has already nosed their way onto our stage before the Second Prince declared the civil war. The Republic proposed that they would mobilize their troops to help a fellow brother if the Second Prince advocated for Republicanism.”

“How could something like that…”

“It seems there is perhaps a rather capable individual serving the Hildess Republic. It's almost as if they had been waiting for this moment to begin their interception. As far as I was able to discern, it's too late to stop them.”

“…….”

Milton realized this situation was much more complex than what it appeared to be on the surface. At face value, this was a civil war; but in reality, the Republic was commencing an invasion with the Second Prince at the front as a figurehead.

Finishing her explanation, Princess Leila locked eyes with Milton.

“I swear on my honor. I certainly desire the throne, and I've spent the past seven years for this cause. But…” 

She spoke flatly.

“I am not so blinded by power that I will spill the blood of innocent subjects of the kingdom for my goal.”

Milton stared straight into Princess Leila's unshaking pupils and thought to himself.

'She looks like she's telling the truth.'

She still did not seem to be a particularly good person – but at the least, she was not entirely trash that neglected her moral compass and chased power.

“I am sorry I affronted you with my doubting. I respectfully apologize.”

“Your apology is accepted.”

With the mood lightening up slightly, Milton continued.

“If the Hildess Republic is what lies behind the Second Prince, they must be waiting with bated breath until a decisive moment.”

“That is correct. So you must also wait until that moment arrives, Count Forrest. And when it arrives, please save this country.”

Milton sighed at her words.

“It is easy to say, but, even if all the strength of the South is gathered, I cannot assure you that we will win against the Republic, Your Highness.”

Unlike the soldiers of the Lester Kingdom that were fattened and slow from their long-lasting peace, the troops of the Hildess Republic had been forged in the fires of constant war. Milton knew this first-hand, having fought against them at the Western Front of the Strabus Kingdom.

“Do not worry, I'll also be lending you some of my strength. For now, Count Forrest, you should endeavor to gather as much of the South's strength as possible. I will help in the departments which are lacking.”

“As usual, I suppose that assistance will not be free?”

“As I said before: we are allies. We will help each other, and aid each other in achieving our respective goals. Is that not so?”

“It is.”

Milton's cogs were turning as he answered.

'A hero saving a kingdom in peril, huh… I've never wanted to have that sort of honor.'

Nonetheless, it seemed that he would have no choice anyhow from the way things were shaping up.

Ultimately, Milton answered:

“I understand. I shall try my utmost.”

 “I am trusting you, Count.”

With that, the two's alliance was established.

***

- Order of Subjugation

Prince Byron Von Lester, the Second in succession, is shaking the very foundation of our historied kingdom as he advocates for Republicanism and rounds nobles in the North for his cause.

From this moment forth, Byron von Lester is no longer deemed to be a royalty of the kingdom and is declared to be a traitor to the nation.

All the loyal subjects and soldiers of the kingdom will gather as one under the banner of Prince Skyt von Lester, the First Prince in succession, and subdue the treasonous traitors of the North.

The edict spread across the entire Lester Kingdom. Based purely off these contents, the Second Prince was a dead man standing.

The nobles in not only the Central region, but a considerable majority in the outer regions mustered their strength, becoming wary of the First Prince who was all but decided as the next king.

However, in the midst of all this, one small problem was brought to the attention of the First Prince.

***

“Count Forrest, Baron Rondo, Baron Brayman, Viscount Cairone…”

As he read out the names one by one down the line, the First Prince frowned in discontent.

“Did all the nobles of the South lose their mind at the same time? How dare they disobey my call?”

Countless nobles answered the call-to-arms by mustering all the soldiers and supplies they could. Some went so far as to prepare bribes disguised as additions to the war funds as they tried to curry the First Prince's favor. Each was fretting to ride the coming wave.

Yet in all this, only the Southern nobles had not answered the royal decree. They gave a plethora of reasons – but all of them were flimsy excuses, along the lines of falling sick or having an internal issue arise in their territory.

The Southern region could only be viewed in a negative light by the First Prince.

Especially…

“Count Forrest. So you will not answer my calling… is that how it is?”

Having believed that Milton was one of his men, his withdrawal made the prince feel past the point of being insulted to feeling of betrayed.

“Do not concern yourself with them, Your Highness.”

“Indeed. The bumpkins of the South are not in touch with reality.”

“I agree. In the first instance, we have enough strength without what little feeble support the South may provide, Your Highness.”

Sensing his disconcert, the nobles around him appeased the prince with words that were sweet to his ear. If they had tails, they would perhaps have been frantically wagging.

“I suppose it's true that we won't need aid from the likes of the South.”

The First Prince chuckled and questioned one of the knights in his entourage.

“How many have gathered?”

“We have surpassed 80,000 as of today.”

The First Prince laughed at his report.

“And how strong is the North estimated to be?”

“If they muster up all the troops they possibly have, it is estimated to be in the realm of 30,000.”

“30,000 vs 80,000, you say… Pfff. Hahahahaha! Byron, how far you have fallen. Isn't that difference more than double?”

At the prince's boisterous laughter, the other nobles sensed this was an opportunity and chimed in.

“Indeed you are right, Your Highness. At this moment, I believe he would be cursing his own foolishness and wailing with despair.”

“This was all brought about by your good judgment, my Prince. By what else?”

Numbers were one of the most important factors in war. Next to the 30,000 troops of the North, the punitive force of 80,000 that the First Prince had gathered was intimidating.

But this was only how it appeared from the surface, and the internal circumstances were not as rosy.

The Northern troops that backed the Second Prince were from standing armies that protected the border, and thus were well-trained regular troops with quality equipment.

On the other hand, of the First Prince's 80,000 troops, only 10,000 were the full-fledged troops from the Capital. The private troops of nobles and mercenaries composed another 30,000. In other words, only half of the First Prince's army were soldiers that were used to carrying weapons and knew how to fight.

Then who were the other 40,000? They were men that had been forcefully conscripted by nobles from the outer regions as support for this war. Forget war, they were commoners who had never even held a weapon before.

Conscripting the people for a civil war, not for a national crisis, was a senseless deed. However, the nobles of the outer regions wished to show the First Prince that they had brought this many troops at his disposal. In essence, these soldiers were forcefully drafted to serve the nobles' ambitions of being recognized by the Capital for their services.

And so half of the royalist army was composed of conscripts that had neither the proper equipment nor training, even their morale already reaching an all-time low.

On top of all this was the problem of supplies. 80,000 men was simply too many in the first place. The fund required to sustain a force of this size was substantial. 

This financial burden was currently shouldered by the Central nobles who had backed the Second Prince. The moment the Second Prince was declared a traitor, these nobles had no choice but to turn to aiding the First Prince. The First Prince's wife Claudia capitalized on their weaknesses and made them provide financial support, whether that be by persuasion or threats.

But this was only a temporary stopping measure. If the war was drawn out, then regardless of the outcome of the war, maintaining a force of 80,000 was a significant concern. 

Claudia sent a messenger to the First Prince to press him to finish this war as quickly as possible. Yet for the prince, such factors of concern were never in his peripherals. This war was already won in his head, and instead, he was thinking about how he could use his regal powers.

The carelessness of the command. Other than the quality of soldiers and the constraints of supplies, this was perhaps a third factor of concern.

***

Thinking that his forces would be plenty even without the South's aid, the First Prince ordered his army to advance.

“All units, charge!!”

“The first one to climb onto the castle's walls will be rewarded 100 gold.”

As the commanders worked them up, the soldiers braced themselves and started climbing the fortress' walls. If they were tight on supplies, then aiming for a head-on orthodox victory was not a bad choice.  

But, the issue was that the ones at the forefront were mostly conscripts. A siege was a difficult battle for even trained soldiers to wage. There was certainly no way that conscripted soldiers could carry out a proper offensive.

Troops were thrown at the fortress walls for half a day, but the walls could not be scaled. The First Prince slowly began losing his patience.

“This is taking much longer than expected. What is the reason for it taking this long even with so many troops?”

“I apologize, Your Highness. The enemy is proving to be more stubborn in their defiance than expected.”

“That may be so, but this is taking far too long. End it quickly. This could affect our morale.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

It was only after the prince's berating that the regular troops and knights being preserved from action by the lords were deployed.

And with that…

“The castle walls have been scaled!”

“Establish a foothold for more men to come up!”

The walls were climbed at last, and the troops of the First Prince's army began to make their way onto the ramparts.

“Good. This is how it should be.”

The prince finally smiled with satisfaction as he watched the attack unfold.

“This stronghold will be taken care of within the day. We will leave an occupation force behind, and the rest of us will continue with our advance.”

At the prince's words, one man at the very end of the command tent advised carefully.

“Your Highness, the soldiers must be allowed to rest a little after battle.”

The prince frowned.

'How annoying.'

Regardless of whether he was right or wrong, the likes of a young, upstart noble sitting at the very end of the table was pointing something out to him. This greatly offended the First Prince.

“What is your name, young man?”

“I am Viscount Randol Sabian, sir.”

“I see. Viscount Sabian, would you not agree that this war must be ended quickly?”

“I most certainly agree, Your Highness.”

“Then we should be striving to end it quickly. Why do you feel the need to add further comments?”

When the prince looked at Sabian as if he was scolding Sabian for not knowing how things were run, Sabin responded. 

“Your Highness, it is more important to win the war than it is to end it quickly. I believe that we need at least a day or two to treat the soldiers injured in the siege and reconsolidate the battle lines.”

“Rubbish.”

Viscount Sabian's logical reasoning was passed off as senseless bickering.

“You're just sitting at the end of the war table. Know your place.”

By mentioning their difference in power, the First Prince's intimidation was a form of warning. However, Viscount Sabian didn't shrink back at all.

“With all due respect, Your Highness, the role of the command staff in a war is to provide a second opinion-”

“Silence!!”

Bang!

The First's temper exploded at last. He shot up from his seat and pointed at Viscount Sabian.

“If we wish to minimize the suffering of the people from this war, then our priority is to end it quickly and overwhelmingly. I must account for the people's suffering as the king of these lands! You are stepping out of bounds as a mere advisor!”

This had already turned into a matter of pride. All that drivel about the people's suffering had only been stuck on for good measure. In reality, all he was looking for was an acknowledgement as him being right. The only answer that he wanted out of Viscount Sabian was: 'In my foolishness, I refused to see the wise insight of Your Highness. As your vassal, I shall accept any punishment as you see fit.' 

But…

“I apologize, Your Highness, but your suggestion does not align with Your Highness's own interests.”

“Wh… what?”

The prince went beyond rage into the territory of disbelief, but Sabian was relentless.

“Each and every soldier fighting in this war and bleeding for us are also subjects of the kingdom. How could you say you will alleviate the suffering of the people, when you are not caring for our troops? This goes beyond contradiction and into the realms of hypocrisy.”

“You insolent brat!!”

The prince reached breaking point. A green-as-can-be noble youngster was standing up to him. By his standards, this was far beyond the point of crossing a line.

“Seize him at once. His crime is blasphemy towards the royalty and disobedience of his superior. For his crimes, the deserved punishment will be death.”

The gravity of the situation changed with the prince's erratic command, and the knights arrested Viscount Sabian. Even in this predicament, Sabian determinedly continued.

“My king, good and honest counsel has always been a pain to hear from times of old. Please reconsider my humble opinion.”

“Even now!?”

The prince personally drew the sword at his waist. He intended to skip the formalities and cut Sabian down right here, right now.

Just then, one old man intervened.

“Your Highness, I believe this young and hot-blooded fellow only had a lapse in judgement in his passion. Forgive him just this once and show him the bounds of your mercy.”

“Mmm…”

The First Prince hesitated, for the one who was consoling him was Marquis Karl Trauss.

He was originally a member of the neutral faction, but had come under the First Prince's wing by answering the call-to-arms. Though he was an old man with a graying beard, he was a professor at the Academy in the Capital and lectured on combat tactics. Within the Lester Kingdom, he was considered the greatest expert in this field. Thus the First Prince paused when this man personally intervened, as even the prince could not do whatever he liked to someone with his reputation.

Marquis Trauss repeated himself.

“Though he may be stubborn as a mule, out of all my disciples, the ones who have his level of talent can be counted on one hand. If you show him the well of Your Highness' magnanimity and forgive him, he will become a great strength to Your Highness.”

“A disciple? This man is your disciple, Marquis Trauss?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I have devoted myself to raising this young man, for I believe he is worthy of being entrusted with everything of mine in my later years.”

Marquis Trauss was going this far from him, so the prince responded as if he had no choice.

“I will save my Marquis' face and stand down. Know that there will be no next time.”

“As an old and frail vassal, I am humbled by your grace, Your Highness.”

Marquis Trauss bowed his head deeply, and Viscount Sabian could only do the same as he watched his teacher. 

“Thank you.”

Though his dissatisfaction was still plain as day.

Chapter end