Chapter 80: Battle of Baldrick

Bachman lay in bed. The flame of his life was flickering out. Death licked his skin, passing by.

Shiver.

Bachman trembled down his body. His eyes darkened, frequently losing focus. Sensation in the distal ends of his extremities like fingers and toes dulled.

"I...” Bachman opened his mouth as the stench of death escaped through the small opening. His thigh was now rotten into a black clump of flesh.

“...just wanted to live a life of not having to envy others. I hated the thought of spending the rest of my life fishing for a living. What's the point in working my ass off and struggling, if it's only to barely scrape by? Am I wrong?"

Urich sat beside Bachman, with Pahell standing behind. They were now safe.

After shaking off their pursuers, Pahell's party arrived in Duke Vaskerling's territory, which was now controlled by General Ferzen. Duke Vaskerling readily pledged loyalty to Varca Aneu Porcana, following Duke Lungell's declaration of neutrality. Given the uncertain outcome of the war, siding with Prince Varca was not a bad choice. In fact, many local lords joined the prince's camp with their forces.

"Bachman, I've brought you a priest. He's waiting outside; just say when," Pahell said to Bachman with his brows heavy with sorrow.

"Goodbye, Bachman."

"I’ll see you again. Who knows? Maybe you'll be my son in your next life, right?"

"Lou awaits you."

A few mercenaries who had been close with Bachman came in one by one to bid their farewell. Bachman, with a pale smile, prepared for his end.

"I'm ready now. Doesn't feel like I have much time left. It’s getting harder to breathe. I’m trembling, and the pain... I’m in a lot of pain..."

Bachman convulsed vigorously, emitting a groan.

Bachman had accepted his death. He knew that there was nothing else that could be done. He faced the priest with resignation.

"Lou awaits you, Bachman. A man who lived as a warrior," the priest said to Bachman.

"I have lived a life too shameful to be called a warrior. I just desperately struggled because I wanted to somehow live a comfortable life," Bachman replied with a chuckle. The priest fell silent, somewhat embarrassed.

"If you have any sins you would like to confess, please tell me. I will bear them for you."

Urich and Pahell stepped out, leaving Bachman alone with the priest. Bachman confessed all his sins, even the most feeble and trivial ones, unloading them onto the priest. His soul felt lighter as if he could reach Lou's embrace in a single step.

"Looking better, huh? What if you suddenly recover? The guys who said goodbye to you will feel awkward," Urich joked as he re-entered the room. Bachman looked at peace after having confessed his sins.

"Is that what you say to a dying man? You'll be punished, you bastard. Dammit," Bachman chuckled, then groaned in pain, struggling even to breathe. His breath was rough and labored.

"Let me know if it's getting too hard for you. I'll help you pass without pain," Urich said, placing his steel axe on the table. The priest frowned at this.

"Father, when do you think I will reincarnate?" Bachman asked the priest.

"Only Lou knows that. The time for soul purification varies for everyone."

"Ah, then it will probably take a long time for me. I’m a man who has killed many others for money."

The priest affirmed Bachman’s assumption with silence.

Time passed quietly. Even the priest dozed off. Urich, too, half-closed his eyes, yawning deeply.

Squeeze.

Bachman grasped Urich's hand, and Urich opened his eyes wide. Bachman's body heaved. He struggled to breathe, opening his mouth wide.

"U-ugh, ugh, in my next life, ugh, I'd like to be... a wealthy n-nobleman, ugh, kugh," Bachman uttered his last words. His body slowly stilled.

"Let's meet again, Bachman."

Urich shook off Bachman's hand and stood up from the side of his dead brother.

* * *

The heat of the civil war spread throughout the Porcana Kingdom. Local lords and landless nobles seeking advancement gathered in various camps with their private soldiers. Each camp's forces easily surpassed four thousand men in no time.

Considering the fact that the Porcana Kingdom's total mobilizable force was about ten thousand in a full-scale war, the majority of its military strength was being poured into this civil war. If it weren't for the era of imperial rule and peace, such a large-scale civil war would leave the kingdom vulnerable to invasion by neighboring kingdoms.

Duke Harmatti formed a joint front with Duke Seber, with several local lords supporting Harmatti. There were rumors that even parts of the royal guard had joined Duke Harmatti.

"Royal guards joining the rebels? Those ungrateful bastards!" Phillion was fuming.

“It’s merely a rumor, Sir Phillion,” Pahell said to Phillion, trying to calm him down.

Pahell's army was primarily composed of the Imperial army and Duke Vaskerling's forces. Duke Vaskerling cooperated with Pahell to the best of his abilities.

'If I assist Prince Varca in winning this civil war, I can become a key figure.'

Duke Vaskerling had willingly offered his army at the sight of the Imperial army. Duke Harmatti would certainly not have cared, let alone rewarded Duke Vaskerling if he had clashed fiercely with Sword Demon Ferzen in a war of attrition. Instead, he would likely claim all credit and rewards for himself. The nobles moved according to their calculations. Oaths of loyalty were mere empty words.

"If we had gained Duke Lungell's alliance, we would have seized the advantage, but his declaration of neutrality is not bad at all. At least it allows us to maintain an equal footing, ohoho," Ferzen chuckled and said as he placed the chess pieces on a map representing different armies.

"Nobody wants the civil war to drag on. Not me, not Duke Harmatti. If the war extends into winter with such an over-mobilization of the armies, it will bankrupt the entire kingdom."

Pahell stated. Other commanders nodded in agreement. The limit for troop mobilization was a couple of months at most. After that, desertions would spike, and many nobles would withdraw their forces.

"Duke Harmatti will probably hire his own mercenaries. There are already quite a few mercenary squads who were attracted by the civil war. We should also consider hiring additional mercenaries," an Imperial knight suggested.

"Hire more mercenaries? Are you saying that we are not enough?" Urich playfully whined with a chuckle.

"You know that's not what we mean. Every soldier counts in this situation. If the civil war drags on, we might indeed need to rely heavily on mercenaries to make up for any number that we would have lost by then," Pahell explained. He had been continuing his studies even during the civil war, striving to hone his skills as a military commander.

'People are dying because of me. I must end this civil war as soon as possible so I can minimize the number of lives lost as much as possible,'

Pahell thought, feeling a heavy sense of responsibility. That was his duty.

Mercenaries were beasts that roamed in search of war, with war being their biggest business. In an era without full-scale national wars, succession conflicts like this civil war were their prime opportunities. Renowned mercenary squads with hundreds of men sent their messengers to both Harmatti's and the prince's camps.

'Interesting,' Urich mused.

Urich took a step back and observed the flow of the civil war. His role was merely that of a field commander of a mercenary unit. He had no place in these meetings of politics and strategy, nor did he have an insight that was valuable enough to offer.

'This is what war is like in the civilized world.'

The scale was immense, far different from tribal wars involving a few hundred combatants at most. The strategies set by the commanders were substantial, and the types of forces were varied: cavalry, infantry, archers, and more. These were the large categories, with several more if they were to be broken down more specifically, each with different roles depending on their armament.

Urich had learned much about the strategies, tactics, warfare, and army deployment of the civilized world.

"Mercenary leader Urich, do you have nothing to say?" Ferzen asked with his pale eyes narrowly opened. His gaze sent a chill down the observers’ spine.

"Nope, not much," Urich replied. His eyes were just as sharp as the general’s. He was still wary of Ferzen.

"This is war now. Nothing like escorting the prince. What can your less than fifty mercenaries do? Do you even belong here?" A nobleman participating in the meeting commented rather sharply. He was a count who had brought two hundred soldiers to the war.

"You’re right. In a war of this scale, there's not much I can do," Urich agreed readily, nodding his head. The count seemed slightly embarrassed by his own comment.

'That's the difference in caliber,'

Ferzen thought, smiling. He thought highly of Urich.

‘If this was the era of our wars against the barbarians, he would have been a fearsome enemy to the empire, just like Mijorn the Brave.'

After his short thought, Ferzen returned his attention to the map, arranging the military units. He assigned the positions of each unit.

"We, the Imperial army, will take the center. Since the prince has entrusted me with superior command, I hope you all will follow, ohoho.”

It was the words of the famous Sword Demon. No one could object. Urich alone approached the table, looking puzzled.

"Isn't the Imperial army covering too large an area? Old man, the density of your army is much thinner compared to other units,” Urich asked Ferzen.

“What gives you the right to speak like this? Watch your words in front of General Ferzen," an Imperial knight scolded from the side. Urich simply ignored him.

"The imperial army is stronger than the kingdom's forces. We can easily handle twice our number," Ferzen stated firmly. It was clearly a comment that seemed to dismiss the kingdom's forces. Yet, no one contradicted him. It was a fact.

The Imperial and kingdom armies differed in training quality, efficiency of organization, and more. The imperial army operated with units organized by the same type of forces, moving as one cohesive body. In contrast, the kingdom's army was organized based on territories. Soldiers from a specific territory, regardless of their type or level of armament, were bundled into one unit, fighting under the banner of their lord.

'In the empire, the forces are divided like the First Infantry, Second Infantry, and so on, but in the kingdom, it's named after some count’s army.'

Only occasionally, archers or cavalry were conscripted and organized separately due to necessity, but even these units were a mix of strangers from different regions, lacking coordination.

"Well, that makes sense," Urich commented, somewhat understanding Ferzen's explanation.

It was a humiliating explanation for the kingdom's nobles. However, despite knowing such drawbacks, they would never entrust their forces to others. Military power equated to autonomy and influence. Handing over military power to the sovereign would centralize authority, much like the empire where the emperor holds the ultimate power over everyone and everything.

‘This is boring. If only Bachman was here, it would've been less tedious.'

Urich often thought of Bachman. He missed him. The emptiness left by his absence was greater than he had expected.

A fortnight had passed since they settled in Duke Vaskerling's territory. Both sides amassed troops without making rash moves. They each sent their messengers to negotiate the battlefield for their clash. After intense disputes among the high command, the place of battle was decided.

A planned battle was a laughable concept, but it was better than allowing the civil war to spread nationwide, turning into a war of attrition. Moreover, the cunning Duke Lungell was expanding his power every day under the guise of neutrality.

"Baldrick Plains."

A battleground judged fair by both sides. The date was also set.

Two days later, armies from each camp set out for war.