Chapter 62: Benissa's First Blood (Part Two)

The bushes over there seemed to rustle slightly. A rookie nervously raised the flintlock in his hand, but when nothing further happened, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't be too nervous, Michael." Armango patted his comrade on the shoulder, wiping the sweat from his partner's forehead with a casual gesture.

"Ha, greenhorns. Scared by every little gust of wind," a veteran nearby remarked, showing far less sympathy.

This was the battalion Armango currently belonged to: the newly formed Third Battalion, Second Regiment, First Division, Third Army of the Landia Ground Forces. To cope with a potential war, Landia had hastily established the Third Army. However, due to the extreme rush, the Third Army currently consisted in practice only of the First Division; the Second Division was still undergoing recruitment and training. Even the training period for the young recruits had been shortened. Standard regulations required at least three months, yet Armango had barely completed two months of training before being incorporated into the First Division of the Third Army, and subsequently deployed here with the division—to Banisa, a northern frontier city bordering Landia's central and eastern regions.

This was the northern border, guarding the junction with Cattia and Prosi, and standing as the sector most vulnerable to invasion.

The rookie Michael marched at the rear of the column, carrying his rifle with a flushed face alongside Armango. For the past few days, patrol duties in the surrounding area had fallen to their battalion. This location marked the absolute northern limit of Banisa; beyond it lay Cattia. Currently, the First Division of the First Army shared guard duty here with Armango's unit, while the Second Division was stationed in Thalia, another city dozens of kilometers away, which bordered Prosi.

According to intelligence, the Plantagenet Dynasty, entangled in maritime harassment by the Fishmen, was unlikely to launch an offensive from the sea. As for abandoning its policy of splendid isolation on land, that was virtually impossible. Ever since Emperor Charles personally led a grand army for a holy war and nearly lost his throne, the Plantagenets had never again been willing to shed blood on the mainland, shifting their focus entirely to the seas instead.

The Lott Empire could theoretically have entered Landia through the former Gaul region, but the Comminensen Revolutionary Army had recently seized control there. If the Lott Empire insisted on advancing through that territory, it would almost certainly clash with the revolutionaries first. For Landia, this outcome would be a blessing in disguise, as it would simultaneously weaken two enemies. Moreover, it was common knowledge that the elderly king of the Lott Empire was on his deathbed, with two princes each backed by their own factions. Once the old king kicked the bucket, civil infighting might well ensue. Fahrenheit had fully capitalized on this vulnerability, using modern flintlocks as bait to contact the second prince, Denise, through Tansko. Fahrenheit offered to supply new flintlocks and support Denise in becoming the new king of Lott in exchange for the prince becoming a potential ally. Although Denise was fiercely opposed to the first prince, Sahar, he dared not openly support Landia at this juncture. Consequently, the terms of the exchange were revised: in return for receiving this batch of military funding, Denise was willing to dispatch a task force to raid the Gaul Revolutionary Army.

Though it yielded only limited results, Fahrenheit had no choice but to accept. After all, this was enough to reduce the forces the Lott Empire could deploy against Landia. Furthermore, with the second prince's troops pinning down the revolutionaries from the opposite flank, the pressure on the First Division of the Second Army—solely responsible for the sector between Gaul and Valencia—would be alleviated. In the event of a severe crisis in the north, troops might even be detached from that First Division to reinforce the region.

Conversely, the faction loyal to the Lott Empire's eldest prince would likely participate in the offensive against Landia, seeing as the Church was a staunch supporter of Prince Sahar. If the Church's prestige and influence were compromised, it would bode ill for him. The Lott Empire shared borders with Cattia and Sekens; if troops were not dispatched from the Gaul direction, the only remaining route for an offensive was through Cattia. These two northern nations had long harbored friction, jointly confronting the elves of the northern forests, occasionally cooperating, and just as frequently warring over the capture of slaves. Yet if the Church stepped in to mediate, a coalition formed by these two countries would hardly seem strange.

The forces Armango and his comrades faced would most likely be the army of Cattia or a coalition of the two nations. Meanwhile, the other city, Thalia, might face even greater pressure, for the Ross Empire did not share a direct border with Landia and would likely coordinate its attack with Sekens, or even Prosi as well. The only fortunate aspect was that these northern nations all faced the counterattacks of the elves, preventing them from committing their entire military might to the battlefield without restraint. They were compelled to leave a garrison force behind in their home territories to guard against the threat from the north, much like Landia had to leave the First Division of the Second Army behind to guard against the Gaul Revolutionary Army.

As for the various city-states in the eastern and central regions, while they covertly or overtly supported one faction or another depending on their respective stances, their actual strength was profoundly limited. The most they could do was shout slogans from the sidelines. Once the outcome between the warring parties became clear, these observers would eagerly step forward to join the victors, ensuring that history recorded how the Grand Continental Crusade had triumphed over so-and-so. When the Church had united several great kingdoms to wage war against the necromancers, this was precisely how they had behaved.

The intentions of the Church's knightly orders remained murky. Even with Landia's intelligence-gathering capabilities, supplemented by secret intelligence operations aiding Fahrenheit, they could only track the assembly directions of the armies belonging to the major kingdoms, failing to accurately gauge the Church's ultimate design. As of three days ago, intelligence transmitted to Fahrenheit by an intelligence network indicated that the Church's primary direct military force—the Paladins and the Radiant Knights directly commanded by them—was still stationed near the grand cathedral in the very heart of the continent. That location offered convenient access to multiple bordering nations, whether entering Cattia, Lott, Sekens, or Prosi, making it impossible to determine which path of invasion they would ultimately join.

As for the south, in terms of military might, it had historically lagged behind the north. The attitudes of the two nations second only to Landia in power, Frey and Tiers, remained ambiguous. From the perspective of self-interest, both ought to support Landia, because if Landia fell, the Church-dominated hegemony would once more sweep across the south, forcibly reasserting control over the southern states that were gradually slipping from its grasp. Geopolitically, however, the Church enjoyed far tighter ties with the northern nations; should such a scenario materialize, the southern states would find themselves reduced to mere sheep for the slaughter by the northern powers. Yet the long-standing intimidation of the Church, combined with the formidable strength of the northern coalition, left both countries wavering in indecision—simultaneously anxious and expectant.

In contrast, another southern faction, the League of City-States, clearly and explicitly declared its support for Landia. A so-called city-state was a sovereign entity consisting of no more than a single city, much like Banisa. Because their territories were so diminutive, the military strength of some such city-states paled in comparison to even a major city within a large kingdom, since major nations could mobilize resources from across their entire realms. Consequently, the power of these city-states was exceedingly restricted; some lacked cavalry altogether, relying solely on infantry and archers.

Nevertheless, the southern city-states differed from those in the east and center. The eastern and central city-states were sandwiched between several great powers and heavily influenced by the Church, leaving them fractured like scattered sand, obedient to the Church or swayed by the powerful nations they depended on. Neither the Church nor any single major power would permit these city-states to unite and grow strong. Yet because they served as mutual buffers, even if one great power managed to influence the surrounding city-states, its rivals would never allow it to annex them at will. Even the Church preferred them to remain in a state of mutual check and balance, cementing its role as arbiter and mediator.

The southern city-states, by contrast, were somewhat sturdier than their eastern and central counterparts. Furthermore, Landia, Tiers, and Frey were all relatively peace-loving realms. Aside from the Tianlun Dynasty's historical ambitions of annexation, the southern nations generally preferred to unite in resisting incursions by orcs, maritime threats, and potential coercion from the north. Moreover, driven by the growth of maritime trade and the mutual need to compete effectively against Landia, Frey, and Tiers, the southern city-states had banded together to form a league.