The Nyrnal Empire launched a sudden invasion of the Eastern Trade Union. The Union consolidated its forces to push back. They holed themselves up in fortresses, hired mercenaries, and closed down the highways. Able-bodied common folk volunteered to fight and made their way to the battlefield.
The independence of the Eastern Trade Union hung in the balance.
“It seems to me like you’re having quite a bit of trouble,” Emperor Maximillian said during a war strategy meeting. He looked around at the generals in attendance, all of whom were pale with fear. “Fifty thousand men. That’s the army I gave you to destroy the Eastern Trade Union—an army I honestly thought was needlessly large. Excessive, even. And yet, the Union hasn’t fallen yet. How could this be? Would you care to enlighten me, Marshal Bronberg?”
Having said this, Maximillian turned his eyes on an aging man.
“The reason is twofold, Your Imperial Majesty,” the man answered. “Our men are struggling with both the terrain and the very nature of the enemy forces. Konrad Crevlas, who commanded a mercenary group that fought us during the unification of the south, is their leader.”
“I see,” Maximillian said curtly. “So you’re saying that our generals are incapable of reading a map or winning a battle against an opponent we’ve fought once before. How regrettable.”
With a scoff, Maximillian narrowed his eyes at Marshal Bronberg and continued in a terribly cold voice.
“Now listen to me, Marshal. The Eastern Trade Union’s army is a mere ten thousand. If you fail to defeat a force of that size with fifty thousand men, be aware that you will be hanged for your failures.”
“Y-Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” Marshal Bronberg nodded hastily, his face drained of energy. “We will do everything in our power to win.”
“And? Did the Arachnea show themselves?” Maximillian asked, switching gears.
“No, not yet,” the marshal said bitterly. “We’ve sent some aerial units to scout the situation, but they never returned. We can only assume the enemy had some way of attacking airborne units.”
Knowing the Arachnea might intervene in the Empire’s takeover, Bronberg and his fellow officers had dispatched troops to conduct a preliminary aerial reconnaissance of the enemy’s forces. As he’d told the emperor, none of the wyverns had made it back.
“So they have a way of holding our wyverns in check,” Maximillian mused. “I suppose our only choice is to send out the lindwyrms, then. Marshal Bronberg, I will place sixty lindwyrms under your command. These should be enough to crush the Eastern Trade Union and the Arachnea.”
“We’re grateful for your assistance, Your Imperial Majesty!”
But what were lindwyrms?
Maximillian spread out a map and placed a few pawns on it. “Let’s hear your proposal. How do you plan on attacking them?”
“Traversing the northern wetlands is extremely difficult. If we attack from Nyrnal’s center, the Phros River will similarly impede our progress. As such, I believe that if we apply pressure on them from the Phros as a diversion, we’ll be able to successfully strike at the Union’s northeastern fortress line.”
By deploying a decoy force and attacking the fortress line where the Union bordered the Popedom, the Empire could avoid marching its troops through the wetlands and catch the enemy off guard.
“You think you can break through?”
“The wyvern unit should be able to handle it if they maneuver skillfully enough. Their fortifications aren’t built to defend against an attack from the sky. A few of them have ballistae, but they’re not optimized for attacking airborne units.”
The fortress line along the northeastern border of the Union had been built to defend the Union’s border with Frantz. Given that the Union wouldn’t expect wyverns to come from that direction, it was the perfect place to strike.
“I very much hope your gamble pays off. You do know what will happen if you fail, yes?” Maximillian said coldly.
“Y-Yes, I’m well aware...”
Maximillian had already beheaded commanders who’d failed him in the past. The emperor wasn’t merely blowing smoke; he was deadly serious.
“Then let us name this plan. We will call it ‘Case Yellow’—or ‘Fall Gelb.’ A simple name should make it harder for the enemy to catch wind of it. After all, we don’t know who might be eavesdropping on us.”
He was not far off. Keralt had already mobilized her adventurers, ordering them to spread out and gather whatever information they could. Some of them were hidden among the soldiers, whereas others used their swift feet to scout the Nyrnal Empire from the outside. Already well aware of this, Maximillian figured someone could be listening in right now.
“I look forward to hearing of your success, Marshal. Because failure will not be tolerated.”
“I understand full well, Your Majesty.”
The contents of this strategy meeting leaked to Keralt’s guild, which reported it to her three days later.
“The enemy will come from the northeast.”
The information spread like wildfire across the Eastern Trade Union. As the Union army fortified its defenses around the river Phros, it also consolidated troops along the fortress line.
The Arachnea, perhaps the very cause of this war, also participated in those preparations.
♱
The Nyrnal army launched its Case Yellow operation.
First, the Empire’s troops attacked the Phros River in a diversion. The Eastern Trade Union sent a vast force to keep them in check. A large-scale battle took place between the Nyrnal forces trying to cross the Phros and the Union soldiers trying to stop them.
The Eastern Trade Union’s mercenaries launched and loaded catapults from the opposite bank while also raining arrows upon imperial soldiers who tried to cross. The river ran red with blood that day, and the Nyrnal forces had to abandon the attack.
A runner hurried into the Union’s primary camp. “I come bearing a message! The attack in the northeast has begun!”
“Finally,” Konrad whispered under his breath.
Even this intense defensive battle had been nothing but a diversion. The Nyrnal Empire’s true aim was to invade via the fortress line to the northeast.
“This unit is to keep the enemy from crossing the Phros!” Konrad shouted. “Even if this is a diversion, the Union’s in danger if we let them on our shores. Put everything you’ve got into keeping those Nyrnal dogs off of our soil!”
“Yes, sir!” The mercenaries’ resounding cry was filled with vigor.
Knowing that they were fighting to keep their bitter enemy, Nyrnal, out of their beloved homeland really upped morale.
“Will the fortress line last, though?”
That was the real problem. Those fortresses were built to guard the border with Frantz, and they were equipped accordingly. They weren’t suited to handle Nyrnal’s army. They had very few ballistae capable of shooting upward, and they were open to attacks from the sky.
One had to wonder if they’d last in a battle against Nyrnal, and the Eastern Trade Union’s higher-ups seemed to share this concern.
“It’s not a question of if the line will hold. It has to,” Konrad said firmly. “If they manage to march in from the north, they’ll have a direct path to Khalkha. And if Khalkha falls, we’ll have to surrender. We can’t let them do that. We’ll show Nyrnal just how stubborn the Eastern Trade Union can be!”
“That’s right! We’ll kick Nyrnal’s asses and drive them out of our land!” the mercenaries cheered.
“That said, where’s the star of the show, the Arachnea’s queen?” Konrad asked, looking around.
“She’s been in a northeastern fortress the whole time,” one merc replied. “She said the enemy would definitely strike there.”
Grevillea, Queen of the Arachnea, had believed Nyrnal would attack the fortresses from the very beginning, since no other point of entry was as accessible. According to her, the northern wetlands made it difficult to utilize their heavy infantry, and the Phros River to the west was too much of an obstacle. This left the northeast fortress line as the only viable way into the Union.
Her predictions were right on the money.
“A commander who can read the enemy’s intentions, eh? Not bad. That’s the kind of ally we need.”