Game of the Monarch Chapter 77– The Magician (2)

One day passed, then two, then five – and the Southern army still had no signs of movement. They quietly sustained this standoff without so much as a single arrow shot.

Alfred could not understand their intent no matter how much he mulled over it, not that there was a particular measure they could react with regardless.

It was then that Alfred received a peculiar report.

“Some of the men have fallen ill, you say?”

“Yes, that is so. It's not a lot yet, but quite a few troops are showing symptoms of a high fever, body aches and vomiting, sir.”

“How many men have contracted this sickness?”

“There are currently around 30 men, sir. They have been isolated under quarantine protocol to be safe.”

Alfred nodded at his aide's report.

“Be sure that the quarantine measures are abided by and keep an eye on the men's condition.”

“Understood.”

The situation had not yet reached its tipping point. With barely 30 men falling ill, Alfred assessed that this matter would be allayed soon enough if they only abided by the quarantine measures.

However, Alfred's face turned pale at the report he received the next day.

“Captain, the number of men who have fallen ill has grown. Several hundred patients are raising complaints with the same symptoms.”

“How could… was the quarantine protocol observed for certain?”

“There's no mistake that all measures were abided by. However, men reporting the same symptoms are appearing in locations that have no connection to the first infected.”

“……”

Alfred bit his lips. 

It was more than certain by this point that an infectious disease was circulating the army, and it had to be now of all times.

'Is there possibly anything worse that could happen?'

Though Alfred's composure was one of his strengths, even he could not stay calm in the present situation.

How could a plague spread while they were in a standoff with an enemy?

At this rate, they would not be able to fight them properly.

“Ensure the sick are thoroughly isolated. Announce that all water is to be boiled before consumption, and hurry to find the common factor underlying all the patients of this outbreak!”

“Yes, understood.”

Alfred hastily issued his commands, praying that this disease would not spread any further.

***

Three days later.

Despite Alfred's earnest hopes, the disease ruthlessly continued to ravage the soldiers.

There were yet to be any deaths, but considerable numbers of troops were collapsing with high fevers and vomiting. Any efforts to isolate were futile, and all they could do was focus on creating the most sanitary conditions possible in a wartime situation.  

They could not rid themselves of this disease.

If there was any progress to be had, it was that their epidemiological investigation uncovered the root cause.

It was the food.

The soldiers that were falling ill had specifically eaten the rations that they had protected throughout the enemy's night raid.

Something snapped inside Alfred.

“These dogs dare to mess with food?”

Alfred muttered under his breath as he clenched his teeth.

In the stricken fields of war where it was kill or be killed, it was nonsensical for one to refrain from certain tactics. Alfred ground his teeth not because he did not know this, but because he had been backed into this corner.

There was nothing that changed from knowing the cause of this outbreak after it already happened. All the affected rations had already been consumed by the soldiers, who were now collapsing by the dozen.

If this disease was not natural and instead deliberated by the enemy, it meant that they would also be aware of this situation that was unfolding.

Alfred now understood his enemy's objective: they were biding their time for his men to wear out and lose their strength. Alfred needed to make a decision at this stage.

His first choice was to take the army outside the fort's walls in their present condition and win in an orthodox battle. However, their prospects of winning were almost non-existent. When one saw the enemy's formation was perfectly arranged for combat – without so much as a single siege weapon in sight – it was clear that they were waiting for the defenders to tire out and leave the stronghold. 

Over half of his men were incapacitated already. If they chose to strive for a head-on battle at this point in time, their chances of emerging victorious were likely less than 5 percent.

The issue was that they would be defeated without so much as an opportunity to fight if they were to drag this along and the troops' condition did not stabilize regardless.

The second option was to continue staying entrenched and last it out.

Over half the troops were not fit for service, but there was yet for any deaths to arise. Alfred did not know what kind of poison the enemy used, but in the first place it would be difficult to poison such a large quantity of foodstuff and reach a lethal dose. Seeing as there were no deaths thus far, there existed a possibility that the troops would recover in due time. There were enough healthy troops to operate a functional defense despite the great reduction in their strength.

The caveat was that this was only made a valid option by the presupposed speculation that the troops' condition would indeed recover with time. If by chance, it worsened instead…

Then they would be bitterly holed up in this fort until they withered away and died.

In this dilemma with two completely distinct options, Alfred carefully made his choice.

'We'll concentrate on defending.'

Their prospects of victory in a head-on battle were too remote. Moreover, the enemy's formation implied that they were expecting the Republicans to leave their fortified position and come out.

Though Alfred did not know which was the right path to take, he was not about to move in the direction that the enemy wanted.

'We'll endure with whatever means possible.'

Alfred steadfastly set his mind on defense.

However, that resolve would not last more than a day.

***

The next day.

A messenger came running to Alfred, who had momentarily come down from the ramparts to inspect their internal state of things.

“Captain, the enemy… the enemy…”

“What is it?”

Clearly something big had happened, seeing as the messenger was breathless from making haste to inform Alfred.

'Has their attack begun?'

Two thoughts flashed by Alfred's mind.

So they finally come.

Come as you may.

He had already steeled himself to some extent as this outcome was to be expected.

However, what came next from the messenger was completely beyond Alfred's expectations.

“The enemy is retreating.”

“They're what?”

Alfred thought he was hallucinating now – either that, or the messenger had gone nuts.

“Hold it, the enemy is falling back? Are you sure?”

The messenger brightly grinned as Alfred tried to process this information.

“Yes, it is true.”

'The enemy withdrew? The enemy…'

Alfred made his way to the ramparts to confirm for himself. 

What awaited him was the empty wilderness, as far as the eye could see. The attackers that had been encamping outside as late as yesterday had disappeared.

“For what reason would they retreat?”

Alfred murmured to himself, and his aide-de-camp reassured him.

“I do not know, but for now it is a relief that the enemy has withdrawn, is it not?”

“That is true. That's true, yet…”

Uneasiness simmered in a corner of Alfred's heart. No enemy would ever take actions without meaning, and any that appeared to do so on the surface was bound to have an ulterior motive. This was unmistakably one of those times.

'What would be the reason? What benefit would they gain from withdrawing their- hold on, surely not.'

One possibility flashed into Alfred's head. He urgently ordered his assistant.

“Bring me the map!”

“Sorry?”

“I said bring me the map! And send scouts to monitor the enemy's movement!”

“Oh… yes, sir.”

“Hurry!!”

Alfred clenched his teeth as the assistant dashed out. If his hypothesis turned out to be correct…

This was the true worst possible situation they could be in.

***

There are moments in life when time feels as if it is dilating. If one reaches the very brink of their impatience and nervousness, a passing second becomes a day and a minute becomes a year. 

This was one of those moments for Alfred.

Alfred's assistant could not bring himself to strike a conversation in this overbearing atmosphere while his Captain stared at the map as he waited for the scouts' report to come in.

At last, the scouts returned.

“In which direction did the enemy withdraw?” Alfred cut straight to the chase.

The recon troops drew a deep breath.

“The enemy is moving towards the east.”

“Damn it!”

Alfred shot up straight up from his seat and issued a command to his assistant immediately.

“Gather all troops that can move at once! We are pursuing the enemy!”

His aide was astonished at Alfred's drastic order, starkly contrasting with his usual careful and calculating stratagems.

“Captain, let us please think this through. As long as we hold this fortress…”

“Make haste! We no longer have the freedom of choice, I tell you!!” Alfred thundered.

They promptly rallied all the men that could still fight and mobilized to give chase to Milton's army of the South.

***

The Republican's movements were tracked through the magic of Bianca's familiars, who informed Milton.

“Hey, they left the fort.”

Milton smiled.

“So they finally come out.”

Alfred thought he was forced into a dilemma between keeping themselves entrenched or attacking their enemy and engaging in a proper battle. But he was sorely mistaken.

From the beginning, Milton had no intention of giving his opponent a choice at all.

At first, Milton waited for the poison to spread and take its effect amongst the enemy. In retrospect, this was Alfred's prime opportunity to take action. While the poison that Bianca had concocted was so potent that it could affect a large number of troops in comparatively small quantities, it had an incubation period. If Alfred forced a head-on battle before the effects of the poison came into full stride, Milton would have had no choice but to accede to it. But Alfred would never have made such a decision as he had not yet known of the poison, which was also why Milton's army could encamp at the fortress' doorstep.

Although Alfred chose to defend, Milton withdrew nonetheless when the poison's effect was slated to reach its peak. Only, he moved to the east instead of retreating to the rear.

Towards the east lay the battle unfolding between Siegfried and the Strabus Kingdom's Duke Derrick Brans. But what would happen if Milton moved his forces in their direction and struck Siegfried from the rear?

Alfred's assignment was to keep this enemy occupied as long as possible. Regardless of whether they won or lost, his number one priority was to keep the enemy busy.

In other words, Alfred did not have any choice but to respond in kind if Milton moved towards the east. They had to pursue them and engage in combat.

“Jerome!”

“Yes, my lord!”

Jerome responded faithfully.

“Turn all troops around. Let us prepare a welcome for our guests.”

“Yes, understood.”

***

By the time Alfred and his men had caught up to Milton, he had already prepared all there was to prepare. However, Alfred did not have the option of stopping here.

“All troops, charge! We shall become a founding stone of a new utopia!”

“Uoooooh!!”

Alfred's roar was returned by his soldiers.

To become one of the founding stones of a new utopia.

This was said whenever the Republican soldiers steeled themselves to fight to the death.

It was a demand that the men serve up their lives with the faith that even if they were to die right now, Republicanism would one day take over Royalism  to bring a new age. As the soldiers of the Republic were exhaustively educated on this ideology and had it drilled into them, their spirits surged forth the moment they heard such a phrase.

Alfred was trying to raise the vigor of his troops and bring a favorable outcome with whatever means possible. Ideally they would repel the enemy, but if that was impossible, the least they could do was kill the enemy commander so they would fall back. Particularly, it was Alfred's first of an enemy commander making such a fool out of him – and thus Alfred also had personal sentiments to be rid of him when he had the chance.

But the enemy before them was much too strong for Alfred to expect results merely by raising morale.

“Fire!!”

Trike's archer unit promptly dotted the sky with their arrows.

Shuk! Shukshukshuk! 

“URK!”

“AAAAAAAH!”

Screams rang out as the arrows hit the charging frontline. Alfred clenched his teeth and shouted once again to prevent his troops from faltering.

“Do not waver! The only method of avoiding the arrows is to close the distance! Forward!! FORWARD!!”

The cautious commander who spared the most troops.

This reputation was overshadowed by the Alfred of now, who coerced his soldiers into sacrificing themselves. There was no other way they could approach this – this was a battle that demanded these measures.

“Uooooh!!”

“Die, you bastards!”

“Hurrah for Republicanism!!”

The Republican troops continued to advance forward even as the arrows continued to pincushion them. 

One step, then another… Forward they moved, making headway one step at a time.

The men faced death head-on, entrusting the troops in the line behind them to take the next step if they were to fall.

Chapter end