Chapter 8: A Stupid War, Dangerous Military Service

Although it had been more than fifty years since Delanmaya last fought a war with a neighboring country, we were no strangers to war: small border conflicts, suppressing bandits, putting down rebellions… there was always fighting on one day out of every three, and there had also been many threats of full-scale war with neighboring countries. But if one searched the three thousand years of recorded human history, a war as unjust as this one was absolutely unheard of.

It was said that this war originated from a small quarrel in the royal court: when King Henor IV of the power ful Winston Empire in the north celebrated his sixtieth birthday, the rulers of all countries sent envoys to congratulate him. His Majesty the King was overjoyed and held a grand royal ball to entertain the guests. Among the many guests, the special envoy of the Crete Kingdom, Crown Prince Diansos, known for being handsome and elegant, became one of the most eye-catching guests at the ball and the target of the female guests who all wanted to win his attention.

At the ball, Prince Diansos refused a lady’s invitation to dance and stated bluntly: because this lady had already grown plump to an unacceptable degree, and whether in appearance or in her thinking she closely resembled a kind of livestock raised for food, he would absolutely never consider accepting such a dance partner.

At that time, this prince, who was not smart enough but was far too honest, probably did not know that the lady he refused was not an ordinary noblewoman, but His Majesty King Henor’s eldest daughter, Her Highness Princess Lorraine, who had a reputation as beautiful as a pearl and a figure as round as a pearl in social circles, and who was pure, kind, filial, and friendly. Of course, to be fair, Prince Diansos’s words, though lacking the spirit of a noble knight, were still very true to the facts.

Naturally, the host, who felt that both his daughter and he himself had been insulted, flew into a rage and demanded that the young guest take back his words and apologize to Her Highness the Princess. But the young man’s pride and his firm belief in the beautiful quality of honesty made him unwilling to compromise. The pampered Crown Prince even felt that the King was making a fuss over nothing and threatening him, and so he made all kinds of unfriendly remarks toward His Majesty the King. But after intense consultation, the high-ranking officials of the two countries gradually regained their senses, reached a common view on the dispute, ended this special friendly visit with a rarely seen brilliant piece of diplomatic language, and made clear the final method for jointly resolving the dispute.

The gist of the King’s farewell address was: His Highness the Crown Prince, young and promising, handsome and elegant, should become a common model for all the people of the continent and receive everyone’s admiration and blessings. (The King’s original words: You little turtle bastard with no upbringing, just wait until I destroy your homeland of Crete, strip you naked, hang you on a bamboo pole, and put you on display in a tour through every city.)

The Crown Prince answered humbly and politely: His Majesty the King, venerable and respected, was welcome to visit Crete, to lay the foundation for the friendly development of the relations between the two countries and make even greater contributions to the peace of the continent. (The Crown Prince’s original words: You unreasonable old stubborn fool, if you want war, then come. My Crete is strong in soldiers and horses and has a huge population. Even if every person spat only one mouthful, they could drown you, you old rabbit bastard.)

And so, war broke out.

Originally, this was only a war between two countries. But Winston and Crete were located on the northern and southern sides of Delanmaya, with the Tione Mountains between them, and there was no other road except to pass through Delanmaya. And no king would be willing to see a war between two powerful neighbors break out right inside his own borders. So Delanmaya was dragged into a meaningless war of national defense. Winston, whose princess had been insulted, and Crete, whose prince had been bullied, both sent heavy troops toward the Delanmaya border. Our poor King Miguela I, on one hand, was busy moving troops and generals around to strengthen the two fronts, and on the other, was sending people everywhere to mediate. This war was not only unjust, but also dangerous: if either of the two fronts fell, we would face the miserable situation of a destroyed country and lost homes.

Why we were fighting, who we were fighting, and how we fought had nothing to do with us soldiers. For us, war itself was bad news. We ended our recruit period, which was supposed to last half a year, ahead of schedule, and moved into the Seventh Legion’s defense area near the northern border, beginning tense and heavy defensive preparations: reinforcing city walls, setting up checkpoints, moving supplies… This inexplicable war made everyone complain bitterly. We did not even know who our enemy would be, who would appear before us wielding weapons, or at whose hands we would die.

I began writing letters home, both to comfort my parents and to comfort myself. All my comrades around me forced themselves to keep their spirits up, occasionally making clumsy jokes with each other, trying to throw away all thoughts about war. Still, there were always some thick-skinned people who felt nothing about war. For example, our squad leader Carlson still used sleep to pass most of his day. For this kind of person, the difference between being alive and being dead seemed to be only whether he snored. My business partner, fat Rama, suffered even more: there were no towns or villages near our new station, and this greedy fellow had to carry on an arduous struggle against his appetite every day.

During that period, all kinds of front-line reports poured in like a flood: the Winston Army, on the excuse that Delanmaya had formed an alliance with Crete and refused to let them pass, launched the first attack against us from the northern border in three routes. At that time, the Western Route Army of twenty thousand men, the closest to us, had already reached the strong northern city of Titello and was engaged in fierce fighting with the Titello Garrison Army. Before that, the Winston Army, with iron-armored heavy cavalry as its main force, had shown powerful impact on flat ground. It had advanced unstoppably, pressing closer step by step, and had beaten the Delanmaya Army back again and again. But in front of Titello City, which was located in the Dragon’s Spine Mountains, built against the mountain, and well stocked with food and fodder, the iron-armored heavy cavalry could not play a big role. Several attacks all failed, and only then was the forward momentum of the Western Route Army stopped. In addition, the advance of the Winston Central Route Army was also stopped, while the Winston Army on the eastern battlefield fell into an ambush while crossing the Cansen Plain and fell into a local disadvantage. The northern front entered a stalemate.

Compared with that, the situation in the south was much more stable. The Crete Kingdom had only stationed heavy troops in the border area, publicly claiming that it was only making armed preparations to resist a Winston invasion, and had no intention of taking further military action. It even requisitioned food and weapons to support Delanmaya. This was the best news our great leaders could hear while they were in a frantic mess.

After waiting for half a month, news came from the front: the Winston Western Route Army stopped its frontal attack on Titello City and instead built long-term camps to besiege it, while at the same time trying to split off troops to bypass Titello, enter Dragon’s Spine Canyon, and go directly into the northern interior of Delanmaya.

“It’s about time for us to go to the battlefield,” Fred said to us one night.

As if to verify the accurate prediction of this extraordinarily clever young man, the next day we received orders: the Seventh Legion was to move out in full force and make a forced march to reinforce Titello. We set out.

Titello City was built in the mountain hollow on the north side of Dragon Head Peak, the main peak of the Dragon’s Spine Mountains. To the east outside the city was the entrance to Dragon’s Spine Canyon. Passing through Dragon’s Spine Canyon, one could enter the flat and open Sarthesus Highlands. It could be said that Dragon’s Spine Canyon was a gate to the vast northern plateau of Delanmaya, and Titello City, able to block the canyon when advancing and to defend the city when retreating, could be called the key to this gate. This strong city had three layers total, from outer to inner, all built with huge rocks quarried from the mountains, and was indestructible. Among them, the outer city was the strongest; even huge siege weapons could hardly cause fatal damage to it. The city wall followed the cliff and formed a small semicircle, rising dozens of paces high. On the wall, there was an arrow slit every ten paces, and it was wide enough for horses to gallop. Because the city wall was not long, only one or two thousand soldiers were needed to complete the entire city defense. The city normally had a standing garrison of nearly five thousand soldiers. Now, with the addition of garrison soldiers who had been defeated in other areas and fled into the city, the number of soldiers had reached nearly eight thousand. The outer city had only one drawbridge gate, facing due north. Once a war broke out, it was pulled up with iron chains, and attacking soldiers had no other entrance. But there was a hidden passage in the city leading directly to Dragon’s Spine Canyon, so when besieged, they could maintain contact with the rear. Inside the city, a hidden spring originating from Dragon Head Peak gushed out day and night, enough to provide drinking water for the residents and the garrison. There was a huge naturally formed cave in the city, in which a large amount of food and fodder was stored, enough to supply the whole city for a year. Because it was located at a key gateway, most of the people in the city were traveling merchants; permanent residents were actually fewer, and soldiers made up the majority. Because of its dangerous terrain, tall walls, strong defenses, and unique natural advantages—able to strike deep when advancing and hold the vital passes when retreating—it could, despite being a small city, still rank among the four great strong cities of the continent and had the reputation of being the “Wall of Dragon Peak.”

“If they completely gave up control of Titello, then after entering the canyon, they would easily be caught in a pincer attack by us and the Titello garrison, and would face an extremely disadvantageous situation. But a frontal attack would also be hard to succeed. At this time, they had to use superior forces to control Titello, while splitting off troops to cut off Titello’s contact with the Delanmaya interior as much as possible, making it an isolated city. Then they could think of ways to attack it and wait for reinforcements.” Whenever Fred had time, he would explain the current war situation to us military idiots, especially Winston’s strategy and tactics. Although all this was far beyond the thinking level of us ordinary soldiers, we still listened with great interest.

“The problem with this strategy is whether the Winston have enough troops to fight while split up. According to intelligence, the Western Route Army had no more than twenty thousand men in total and was not the main force of this attack. Adding the normal losses from earlier battles, after besieging Titello City, the troops that could still be moved normally were no more than ten thousand. If they split off troops to harass at this time, they would usually end up with both sides empty, and they could easily be surrounded and wiped out. This time when we reinforce Titello, we will most likely work with the city garrison to attack from inside and outside, first destroying the enemies camped below the city, then turning back to block the escape route of the enemies who entered the interior, completing a large encirclement.”

“So that means we’re sure to win this battle, hahaha…” Dakla said with a laugh.

“Not necessarily. The key is to reach Titello before the Winston’s follow-up reinforcements. But judging from the current battle situation, the Winston on the central and eastern fronts probably don’t have enough troops to reinforce, and the follow-up troops from Winston’s homeland are too far away. So it can be said that our chances of winning this battle are relatively high.” Fred talked to us confidently, and we listened, dumbfounded.

“I don’t care about all that. The best thing would be if, by the time we get there, the Winston have already retreated after seeing the difficulty, and then we won’t have to fight. We still have to go back and open our shop, right, partner?” I said carelessly.

“Yeah, partner, I haven’t had any meat for almost a month now,” Rama said while swallowing his saliva. Ever since we had settled on the cooperation plan for the “Barbecue Bar” in the tavern, Rama and I had called each other “partner.” This title gave us two young shopkeepers a strong sense of achievement. It made us feel that in doing business, we had truly broken away from the tradition of family businesses and created something of our own. At the same time, this title also brought us much closer. By this time, even Fred and the others rarely called us by our names; they directly called us “boss,” and we accepted it calmly.

“Riley, let’s switch seats. Boss Rama always grinds his teeth when he sleeps. I’m afraid that if he gets too hungry, he’ll eat me.” Roll joked in a deliberately serious manner, which made us all burst out laughing.

“Speaking of which, today I asked Carlson: if we had equal numbers and fought the Winston head-on, what would happen?” Riley suddenly remembered something.

“What did he say?”

“He said that in front of the Winston’s iron-armored heavy cavalry, we would be like a naked beauty thrown into a pile of perverts—as dangerous as it could get.”

“Couldn’t he use a better metaphor?”

“I think this metaphor is just fine. A naked beauty, mmm…” Riley said, unable to help drooling.

“You scum! Stay away from us!”

“Hit him…”

“Count me in!”

“Ow… help…” Although the war was approaching, these young people who had never experienced a battlefield did not feel nervous at all.

Maybe one must step on corpses before one fears death. That was a lesson I understood only a little later.