Chapter 106: Cranequiniers

Chapter 106: Cranequiniers

Cranequiniers

Nicopolan Column

During their march to South Hill, the Lord of Korelia often spent time walking with his men on foot, claiming that riding all day was tiresome. And just as he had promised at the start of the campaign, he treated his men equally. Without any hesitation, the Lord marched alongside the Nicopolans, with Servius proudly at his side.

It was clear from his interactions that the Lord did not discriminate between his established columns and the newly joined Nicopolans. He repeated this multiple times, slowly gaining the trust and respect of the Nicopolans. While it might have seemed small and insignificant, his camaraderie and the fulfillment of his promise for equal treatment resonated genuinely with everyone involved.

Physically, the Lord was an unassuming man, yet approachable and sincere in his actions. Unlike the charismatic noble born, who attracted people with their physical presence and elaborate clothes, the Lord of Korelia gave more of the impression of being a comrade in arms.

He wasn't stingy, pompous, or demanding like most nobles. He resembled the few nobles who didn't mind sitting and eating with their subjects. Beyond his strict military law, he was genuinely concerned with his men's well-being, as shown in his policies.

While he couldn't control the food situation, he made efforts to secure clean water, improve camp conditions, and even allow longer midday breaks so everyone could mend their footwear.

Despite their limited interactions, most Nicopolans came to view the Lord as a trustworthy leader. His leadership felt natural because he had earned his victories and acted honorably, even toward those he defeated. Thus, despite his rather unassuming character traits, people were drawn to his presence out of admiration, eager to see and listen to him speak.

His men followed him not because of his rank or title, but because they believed he was the one who could truly protect them in these chaotic times. While other nobles would send their men to their deaths to settle petty rivalries, in Lord Lansius they saw hope. A way to escape from this time of chaos and turbulence.

This sliver of hope for peace was well-founded. With his recent victories still vivid in their minds, the march had once again proven the Lord's canny abilities. Despite covering long distances, they were not rushed. The Lord never called for a forced march, opting instead to maintain a steady pace. Yet, surprisingly, they covered significant ground each day.

Many of the former mercenaries realized that this performance was due to meticulous planning and expert scouting practices.

Currently, the Lord had scouts as far as three days ahead. He also employed another group constantly looking for suitable places to build camps, along with alternatives. They looked for water availability, the height of the land, and food sources if available.

Thus, even though they marched at a steady pace, the Blue and Bronze army moved faster than most troops of their size. This feat was also attributed to the Lord's humane treatment of his troops. From the start of the campaign, he had set aside dozens of horse carts for the injured or weakened men who couldn't continue the march.

For everyone involved, the thought that no one was left behind naturally boosted morale. Because of all this, and the fact that the Lord and Lady were personally involved in solving the Nicopolans' hunger crisis, the Nicopolans felt immensely grateful.

They had expected to be abused or treated as a burden to be discarded at convenience, but their new Master proved to be magnanimous and treated them like first-class citizens.

Thus, when Lord Lansius asked his troops to continue hiding despite their arrival at South Hill, the Nicopolans complied without question.

Although eager to take the villages, as they were still on rations, they chose to endure it. Even the thousand camp followers chose not to escalate their complaints when Servius barred them from visiting the village.

Under the care of Sir Harold, the Nicopolans happily camped far from the village or any farmland and kept a lookout to avoid detection.

When they learned that the Lord disguised himself as a merchant, the Nicopolans watched with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Many believed that this was nothing but a scouting activity, while some thought that this was the start of an elaborate ruse to conquer South Hill with as little fighting as possible.

***

Village

Caught off guard by the sound of cheering outside, the girl's hope returned. She nervously took a peek outside and couldn't believe her eyes. A large force of unknown origin was mustering just outside the village and now encroaching inward.

She quickly waded through the hay, frustrated when she couldn't find the previous hole in the wall to peek. Instead, she found a smaller crack, but it was enough to see Sigmund and his allies rejoicing.

"It must be the Bandit King," the girl muttered as she recalled Sigmund's words. "So he wasn't lying."

She returned to the window and observed the Bandit King's forces closing in. They were so numerous that the entire village was surrounded.

Suddenly, the old donkey made a hearty, infectious laugh, prompting her to peek out.

At the same time, the silhouette of someone appeared at the door. "Girl, where are you?" a familiar voice shouted from below.

She looked down and saw Sigmund. "Maester, I'm up here!"

The man looked up and grinned happily. "Climb down, hurry. I'm going to take you to the Lord. I mean, the Bandit King."

The farmer's daughter caught the word 'Lord' again and grew suspicious of the Bandit King's true nature. However, her excitement led her to climb down as quickly as she dared.

Below, Sigmund was waiting for her, spear in hand, and helmet worn in a relaxed manner.

"Maester," she called out again as she ran toward him.

"Easy, I'm dirty and sticky," Sigmund warned her.

"Don't aim at the horses," Audrey commanded as they were getting closer and preparing their crossbows.

Finally, Dietrich, who led a separate detachment, managed to block the opponent's move. Bolts were fired, causing the enemy to react with unease and confusion. This distraction was all Audrey needed; her Dragoons rushed from behind and moved past the opponent's side and crossbow bolts were loosed.

Within a few breaths, they inflicted significant damage and spread terror toward the South Hill cavalry. It was widely known that only Mage Knights were proficient with crossbows on horseback, as they alone could reload the heavy draw using just their arm strength. Thus, the sight of a mass of mounted crossbowmen was unexpected.

Realizing they were facing a different type of cavalry, the South Hill remaining cavalry decided to offer combat. They gambled that crossbowmen on horses wouldn't anticipate close-quarters fighting. They veered and charged into the Dragoons' double-file formation.

However, it was a mistake. Lady Audrey and her select riders had already swung their spent crossbows to their backs, trusting the leather slings to hold them, then retrieved their second crossbows from their left waists. They aimed at the approaching cavalry and loosed their second volley. As soon as the crossbows reverberated and the bolts flew true, they pulled their sabers, ready for a fight.

Under the barrage of bolts, the South Hill cavalry broke from the wounded in their ranks. While not all bolts penetrated, it was enough to cause tremendous fear and destroy morale. More than twenty fell, twenty fled, and the remaining thirty who maintained their courage finally tasted defeat in close combat. The lighter and more nimble Dragoons were more than a match against their heavy opponents.

Audrey pulled the reins of her horse and her staff followed dutifully. She lifted her visor and saw that one of her riders was proudly carrying the captured enemy's banner. She had experienced firsthand the power of mounted crossbowmen. Even without the special cranequin crossbow with a spanning mechanism that Lansius had talked about, they were a powerful addition to their force.

She considered them a second-best yet more readily available option compared to mounted nomadic archers, who required ten years of practice.

Now, after observing the South Hill cavalry was nullified, Audrey knew that what remained was cleanup. "Anyone without a hostage, give chase."

Hearing her command, forty riders galloped after the remaining twenty.

Meanwhile, Dietrich approached and reported, "My Lady, they're fleeing. We've achieved complete victory."

"How's the situation with Sir Harold?" she inquired, still concerned.

"I saw Sir Harold routing South Hill's column."

Audrey pondered for a moment. "Task our separated 100 to assist. And also, Dietrich, good job blocking their path."

"At your service, My Lady."

"Armed men approaching!" one of her lookouts suddenly cried out.

She gave a quick look and replied confidently, "It's Sigmund."

"Watch your aim," Dietrich instructed, squinting his eyes to discern whether it was truly Sigmund. The distance was too great for him to see.

After some time, Sigmund appeared, leading his seventy skirmishers and a few horse-drawn carts. The two groups, brothers in arms, greeted each other.

"Reporting, My Lady," Sigmund announced as his force rejoined with the Baroness' column.

"Good work holding them for so long. And who's the little girl?" Audrey asked from atop her charger.

Sigmund brought forward a girl from behind him and presented her to the Lady. "She's a peasant's daughter whom I saved. Today, before the battle, she bravely informed me of South Hill's approach."

"Clever girl," Audrey commended.

"G-gratitude, My Lady," the girl stammered, still confused about how Sigmund, a self-proclaimed bandit, could befriend a noble.

"Can you read and write letters?"

"A little, My Lady."

"A little will go a long way," Audrey mused, smiling. "I can use more attendants. Come to my tent and say: Lady Audrey, the Baroness of Korimor, invited you. Or you can continue to follow Sigmund."

The little girl's eyes sparkled at the offer. "Y-yes, My Lady. I'll do as you say."

The naive answer piqued something within her, and Audrey teased, "You should ask your family first. Don't just abandon them."

"Y-yes, My Lady. My apologies, I shall run and inform them... But is it safe enough right now?" she asked nervously.

Watching her childish reaction, Sigmund, Dietrich, and the rest of their men chuckled. With their victories, the battle for South Hill was nearing its end.

***