We’d only just begun taking the outer wall, so how on earth were we to attack the inner wall too?
"Hmm, it’d be nice if Michael were here."
"Suddenly missing your son-in-law?"
"The more Michael’s influence expands, the more my standing grows."
The Count of Belfort, who looked at me with a chilly gaze, seemed to want his son-in-law’s influence to grow. But the reality was that it was only the War Minister’s son-in-law whose influence was growing.
"Don’t tell me you regard me as an obstacle..."
"Lord of Feuzen. Don’t forget that I am Michael’s father-in-law."
"A curious warning. Michael is my family."
"It’s also a relationship that breaks the moment your wife dies."
Lord he may be, but is it all right to wag your tongue so carelessly?
The Count of Belfort’s gaze was very imposing and heavy, but in my anger I met that gaze head-on and let my killing intent show. After glaring at each other for a long while, the count was the first to look away.
"What’s your reason for coming all the way to the artillery headquarters to say that to me?"
"Look carefully at those around you. You still have many potential enemies."
After the count left, I sank into deep thought.
What was his reason for deliberately bringing up Hilda to provoke me?
I had the backing of the War Minister’s family, but I was also under the royal family’s protection and was a lord with military and economic power. And as a capable commander, I was called the finest knight of the duchy.
Perhaps those wary of my growing influence might target Hilda to tear me and the War Minister’s family apart. Having lived through the cruel world of nobility, I knew there were plenty of bastards who’d do exactly that and more.
It seemed I’d better send a letter right away.
I had no choice but to ask August to strengthen the guard and protect Hilda well.
Ka-boom! Ka-ka-boom!
When the stone shot collided with the wall and shattered, countless fragments scattered and fell upon the defenders. Its low durability made it unsuited to breaching the wall, but the terrifying buckshot effect when it shattered more than served its purpose.
Even so, Radensdorf still would not surrender.
As time passed, my chest grew tight with frustration.
I recalled how General Alexander, who’d returned to Euz with Fried, had advised that what brought down the empire was not the enormous cannons, but a small side gate.
He meant not to put too much blind faith in cannons. It seemed I’d been treating sieges far too lightly all this time. We’d run out of powder before the cannons could pound the wall down.
Even with the powder hoarded in Strasbourg, the total supply simply wasn’t enough. Especially since Beren was using gunpowder weapons for the first time, the prepared reserves were virtually nonexistent.
In truth, we had used them more on a whim than anything.
After all, I’d introduced them so suddenly.
Schneider, who’d boasted so confidently to the crown prince, was now nervously reading my expression. Marco focused on his calculations with a triangulation device, endlessly searching for the wall’s weak point.
While the frustrating situation continued, good news flew in from the Breisburg front. They’d won a major victory over the duke’s army, which had begun retreating to defend Radensdorf.
But they hadn’t captured Duke Radensdorf. If he’d been taken prisoner, we’d have won without needing to take Radensdorf Castle, but the duke was very lucky.
No, the unlucky one was Radensdorf.
They were withstanding the cannon attacks, but stray stone shot that flew over the wall fell upon the homes within. So flames rose up here and there, and the stone shot fragments caused enormous casualties.
"Marco, how much powder is left?"
"...Nine barrels left."
So we only have room for ninety shots.
The fourth day of the assault ended. Our side had done nothing but bombard them, so there were no casualties, but the casualty rate among the defenders behind the wall was high.
"...."
The artillery corps’ morale had sunk terribly. Even I hadn’t known until now that a wall this absurdly thick existed in Beren. The lords were slowly coordinating the timing of an all-out assault.
The wall hadn’t collapsed, but it was a fact that its defensive strength had dropped, so they’d judged that it might be worth accepting the sacrifices. The Royal Artillery Corps’ efforts hadn’t been in vain.
But even if we brought down the outer wall, the inner wall still remained. The inner wall would be even harder to attack with cannons. Still, the psychological blow the moment the outer wall fell would be enormous.
The garrison might lose the will to resist.
Just like when Baschurten fell.
A member entered my tent carrying a bundle of scrolls.
"Commander, here’s the provisions report."
"Good work. But who are you?"
The tip of my sword was already touching the man’s throat. I knew the faces of all my men. But this man was one I’d never seen before. Yet without any sign of fluster, he calmly looked at me.
I grasped his identity through the Manager Scouter.
He was an agent belonging to Hoenir.
"Sleipnir has eight legs."
"Are you Frigg’s, that is, Clara’s, subordinate?"
"Yes. I’m the chief dispatched from Central to the East."
He wasn’t a turncoat Hoenir, but a true ally. Yet I still didn’t lower my sword. Because the clothes he wore were the uniform of one of my men.
"You’re not trying to make me hold another funeral for my subordinate, are you?"
"Rest assured. I only knocked him out."
The moment I confirmed it was the truth, I lowered my sword. The blade must have nicked him; blood trickled from his throat a little at a time. He called himself Frigg’s attendant.
He probably tried to hide his identity to a degree by going by an alias, but it was a pointless effort, since the Manager Scouter had his name, Klaus, plainly displayed. Of course, I didn’t say so.
"Led by the East branch chief, turncoats sided with Duke Radensdorf, so most of the agents we’d dispatched to Central were killed. I nearly died myself."
"Seeing as you’re unharmed, was there help?"
"Loki served as a decoy, so I was able to preserve my life."
"...That would be Marquis Bertheim."
The old man would have made quite the decoy. Since they could bring down one pillar of Hoenir, they’d have prioritized targeting the old man over pursuing Klaus. Niklas had said the old man was in the prison tower.
"Slipping out of the castle couldn’t have been easy either. Is your reason for contacting me to provide information?"
"That’s right. The eastern face of the outer wall has a small side gate that the townsfolk use."
"...Don’t tell me you mean to open that side gate for us?"
"With every remaining agent, I’ll stake my life to secure that side gate. It’ll be brief, but I can buy you at least enough time to charge in."
The scheme Klaus proposed was a classic diversion—draw attention one way, then strike from another.
If we openly went for the side gate, the garrison would naturally concentrate their defense there, but if we concentrated our attack on the southern castle gate, we could hold the garrison’s attention.
If a detachment stormed the open side gate in that gap, bringing down the outer wall would be only a matter of time. If we attacked before the enemy fled to the inner wall, all that would remain for Radensdorf was self-destruction.
For me, who knew the truth through the Manager Scouter, it was nothing short of a secret strategy that could break the current deadlock. General Alexander had said it himself.
That it was not fire-spewing enormous cannons, but the opening of a small gate, that brought about the fall of the resplendent Eastern Rome.
"The Swiss mercenary company is just the right fit."
Charging into the outer wall would expose them to countless dangers, but the only valiant unit capable of breaking through was the Swiss mercenary company led by Leto.
I just had to support them from behind.
But this scheme had a fatal flaw.
"If you fail, everything comes to nothing."
"Don’t worry. We have reinforcements too."
"Reinforcements? What reinforcements could you, who are isolated, possibly have?"
"The noble lady Margareta."
Wait, if it’s Margareta...
It was a very common name for a noble lady, but I recalled that the name belonged to a close relative. And she’d been married off to a vassal of the Radensdorf duke’s family.
Margareta was Hilda’s eldest sister.