Chapter 105 105: returning the favor

If we reach 25 comments, . You have five hours from the time this chapter is posted. If we reach the goal, the next chapter will be posted in eight hours.(Valid comments must include information about what you like or dislike about the story, what you would like to see about the story, or any questions you may have about the story, as the devil is in the details.) ----------------------------- If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know. Leave a comment; support is always appreciated. I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see. ------------------------------- Jahrdrung-17-18,2490 IC "Ah... peace... it feels so good to not have to do anything," I said as I stretched in bed, making a few movements to decompress my spine. For the first time in years, I could relax, wrapped in all my soft cotton sheets. "I'm a baked cinnamon bun... I never want to get up... Oh no... I need to go to the bathroom... Come on, think, think... think, think... Ah, to hell with it, I'll get up," I muttered, still tangled in the sheets as I tried to sit up. After taking care of the urgent matter, I was about to return to bed to recover all those hours of sleep lost to work, when someone had the audacity to interrupt me. Soft knocks sounded on the door, and one of my bodyguards peeked his head in. "My lord, a knight of the Reiksguard has arrived with a message from the Emperor," he announced without fully stepping inside. "Is it urgent...?" I asked, reaching for my sheets. "...Who am I kidding, it must be urgent if it's from the Emperor," I sighed, walking toward my clothes and putting on my elven amulet. The guard left while I dressed, changing my white cotton garments for something more presentable. Once ready, I went down to the hall of my old castle, which I now only used for sleeping. "Blessings of Sigmar, envoy of His Imperial Highness," I greeted the Reiksguard knight with the comet gesture. "Blessings of Sigmar, Graf Albrecht. By the grace of Sigmar's Chosen, your information regarding the rebel province of Marienburg's collaboration in the attack on your lands has been reviewed. The Emperor, after analyzing it, has deemed it a dishonorable act, though not enough to escalate into open war. Therefore, the Chosen of Sigmar authorizes you to act in the name of the Empire to raid three villages of Marienburg and seize two ships from their river routes, along with their cargo and crews as hostages, as compensation for such an affront," the knight explained. "I see... So this means... I'm free to choose whether or not to carry out the attacks, or is it an obligation?" I asked. "The Emperor does not command it, Graf, but it is the honor of the Empire and of our Lord Sigmar that we all must defend. It would be strange for one of His most devoted servants not to attempt to avenge with all his might those who collaborate against the God of Humanity's interests," replied the knight. "Uh-huh... I understand," I nodded, realizing it wasn't mandatory, but definitely expected. "I'll see what I can do soon," I said with a smile. "I also bring my duty as an honorary messenger of the Cult of Sigmar. The Grand Theogonist has taken note of your aid to Middenland last year, and the Cult of Ulric thanks you for your brave service in the cleansing of Drakwald. The Ar-Ulric invites you to Middenheim to honor your service to the Empire, while the Grand Theogonist invites you to the Cathedral of Sigmar to receive your reward for aiding against the corrupt threat in the forests," he added, placing letters and documents on the table in front of me. "I appreciate the consideration of the Imperial cults. Once I have a free moment, I'll gladly accept the invitations of the Grand Theogonist and the High Priest of Ulric," I said with a smile, entirely ignoring the fact that there was no way in hell I'd actually go. The knight nodded and left the castle. I ran a hand down my face. "So... this is how it feels, Otto... I understand now why you hate seeing me so much," I murmured after a heavy sigh. "Do I have the face of a rabid dog or what? Why can't I have at least one damned year of peace without being forced to go looking for a fight?" I grumbled to myself. "This is going to end badly... Marienburg is like a hornet's nest; kick it and they'll go mad, sending mercenary armies to punish you for touching their trade... Alright, let's see what can be done." I gathered my men and prepared them for what was coming. It wasn't good news, but there was no choice but to comply: it was an imperial order. So, more out of duty than desire, I marched with a force of four thousand soldiers, several dawi organ guns, and three heavy cannons toward the border with the republic, ready to set an example of what happened if anyone dared trouble the Empire. If burning three villages was the only condition, size didn't matter: I'd do it. Using an old trade bridge, we crossed the river quickly. With my cavalry, I picked up the pace until we reached the nearest mercenary camp, the same one I had located on the night we attacked the Bretonnians. As soon as we spotted the tents pitched on the dry ground —one of the few in Marienburg's marshlands— we fell on them like lightning. We fired mercilessly on the surprised mercenaries, a mix of cultures in a single army. They returned fire, but I deflected the bullets with magic and reinforced my men's armor so that the lead shots veered off course. We entered the camp, destroying everything in our path. We kept firing until they ran out of loaded pistols, forcing them to fall back and reload. For a few moments, we stood facing each other, glaring with hostility, while they pulled out bows, crossbows, and primitive-looking muskets. Then we began executing caracoles riding in close to fire, then pulling back in circles at a gallop, unloading our pistols again and again. Their projectiles barely grazed us, and I deflected those that could cause trouble. After several passes, the enemy lines began to break. Many fled into the swamp; others ran down the road, right into the path of the rest of my troops arriving from the rear. We caught them without giving them a chance to breathe. Those who fled down the road were shot in the back until they began to surrender. I did not deny them the right to surrender; after all, they were colleagues in the profession, and I would not harshly punish someone who could easily have been me. Once they declared it publicly, I took them prisoner and gave the order to loot the mercenary camp. The camp was almost empty, with only a few mercenaries too drunk to fight. They swayed from side to side, trying to understand what had happened while still dealing with the poor decisions of the night before. It was like a cosmopolitan city: stalls of Estalian, Imperial, Araby, and southern city-state mercenaries. A mix of cultures united by only one thing—the gold of Marienburg. Gold that was now mine... although, as good men of arms, they had spent almost all of it as quickly as possible. We barely found a few coins, but we did find expensive clothes, large amounts of armor, and weapons from all over. There was also a fair number of representatives of the world's oldest profession... very exotic ones, truth be told. I wouldn't touch them with a stick; to me, those women looked like Nurgle cultists, carrying more on their legs than the very Prince of Excess himself. One of them began speaking in a language I didn't understand, but her intentions were clear when she let her silk garments fall, baring her breasts, and gestured for me to come closer. "Yes... yes, of course..." I said, while drawing my pistol and shooting her in the chest. "I'm not going near a whore full of venereal diseases." I holstered the weapon and signaled for the women to leave. I didn't want to have to drive them away later if they followed us to the military camp, which was, in all likelihood, their plan. With the only resistance removed, I set course for the nearest Marienburg village. Honestly, this must have been one of the most difficult missions they could have assigned me: with so much mud, it was impossible to use horses, and we were forced to move on foot. Any heavy armor was a hindrance; anyone carrying too much weight sank easily. The cannons were the worst. It took more than twenty men and three horses just to try to get them out of the mud. In the end, I ordered them to return the way we came; it wasn't worth dragging them along like that. We continued with only a reduced group, moving toward the nearby villages and looting two small hamlets. I didn't bother capturing their inhabitants: they were quick, slippery, and fled into the swamps. Besides, having them in my lands would be a problem, as they were too close to their nation—unlike the Bretonnians I kept further from their duchies. What I thought would take a few hours ended up lasting most of the day. Before the day was done, we marched toward the last Bretonnian village on the list: Erlach. It was the only one of decent size, an important trade point before reaching the Empire, and I had ignored it until then. I decided it had to burn before the rain and mud made things harder. We advanced with all our forces. Fortunately, it was on dry land. We evacuated the population and then set fire to every building, looting the merchants' houses first. We found gold, silver, Tilean silk, and amphorae full of spices. Once everything valuable was in our hands, we left notices warning that the Empire would not tolerate collaboration with Bretonnia for economic interests. We returned covered in mud, dragging the cannons to set them up near the fortifications. We spent the night in a tent, and the next day we went back to Reinsfeld. I placed the guns on the riverbank, waiting for a Marienburg ship to pass without docking in my ports. It couldn't look like a deliberate act within my docks—it was better for it to seem like a legitimate reprisal outside my waters. The first ship flying the Marienburg flag that sailed past received three cannon shots that shattered its hull, sending the crew into panic. Another ship with the same flag was right behind it. Neither was armed, and both were left dead in the water as the projectiles tore holes in their sides, forcing them to dock to avoid sinking. Luckily, they didn't try to flee toward Middenland, which would have been a diplomatic headache. With almost my entire personal army waiting, the crews surrendered without resistance. The captain of the first ship came ashore shouting, "Have you lost your minds, you damned fools?! This means war, you hear me?! War!" "Go tell your beloved directors, who let Bretonnian troops pass through their territory against the Empire," I replied. The second captain answered, "The House of Roelef will not stand by while Imperial swine try to seize their goods." "Yes, I'm aware. Now, stop shouting and put on the shackles," I said without much interest. "The Republic's response will be terrible, Imperial dog," spat the first. "May Mannan curse your fortune," added the other. I turned to one of my guards and slid two fingers across my throat. He understood immediately. His greatsword swung once, and two heads rolled onto the dirt. In the looting of the ships, we found Tilean silk, fine liquors, and luxury goods from Araby. "Yeah... this is going to get ugly," I murmured as I looked over the cargo. Who the hell advised the Emperor that this was an appropriate response? Why didn't he try diplomacy... or did it mean that the Marienburg Directorate itself gave the order to let them pass and has no scapegoat to easily sacrifice? Or perhaps the Emperor didn't find the response adequate. Those were all the possibilities. But now the problem was mine—I had to be ready to withstand whatever mercenary force came against me. ----------------------------- If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know. Leave a comment; support is always appreciated. I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see. -------------------------------