Kingdom's Bloodline, page 262
*Thump!*
Amid the echoes that filled the hall, Lampard lifted the chair belonging to the Cameron Family without hesitation and pulled it to him. Archduke Roknee's expression turned grim.
However, that was not the end of it.
Lampard reached out a hand and pulled out another chair beside him. As he met the hostile gazes of the four archdukes, the Archduke of Black Sand Region slumped into the Cameron seat. Then, Lampard leaned back, lifted his legs in a preposterous manner, and put them on another chair.
He rudely faced the four standing archdukes in that position. The archdukes stared at him in disbelief.
"I've always wanted to do this for a long time now." Lampard leaned back in his chair with his leg on top of the other. He looked up at the four archdukes and laughed coldly. "It feels quite good."
Roknee clenched his fists and his eyes burned with anger. As he was about to lunge at Lampard, his shoulder was held by Olsius.
"Calm down, his soldiers are right outside," the Archduke of Prestige Orchid reminded his peer. "Besides, Prime Minister Lisban will arrive soon."
*Bang!*
Lampard brusquely slammed his saber on the table. He leaned back in his chair and let out a laugh.
"So, this is what you are proud of? The Joint Ruling Pledge that protects and maintains the great Eckstedt, is it?"
The four archdukes just stared at him coldly. They seemed to not even want to speak anymore. Lampard gazed at them in silence.
Two seconds passed...
Lampard snickered and took his leg off the chair. He placed his elbows on the table, his palms met, and fingers interlaced. Nevertheless, the archdukes still stared at him with unfriendly looks.
Lampard's gaze focused on his saber and lingered there. His eyes gradually turned vacant, as though he was gazing into the distance.
"You still do not know." Lampard's voice came again, but this time, his tone was laced with sympathy abd the tone of someone free of burdens. "You do not know what our real threat is."
"In your eyes, there is no difficulty or obstacle the powerful, prideful Eckstedt that ruled the Western Peninsula cannot overcome. From your perspective, our grand expedition south that shocked the Western Peninsula twelve years ago is exemplary, correct?"
Archduke Lecco frowned.
"But your visions are smaller than sand particles," Lampard said flatly. "You see only the short distances between Dragon Clouds City and each of your own territories.
"Your ears, perhaps, hear only the shouts and whispers in your provincial meetings and the King-Selection Congress. Oh, and perhaps the jingle of coins in the money pouch where you put all the yearly tax collections in.
"And in your minds? Become a noble and obtain a dukedom? Become an heir for the rights to heirship? Become an archduke and obtain power? Become the king..."
Lampard shook his head in disdain. He smirked and said, "And hold Eckstedt in the palm of your hand."
It sounded just like what happened for the past six hundred years. Lampard's expression darkened—even the largest ocean wave would have been drowned by the suffocating past.
He gave a chilly laugh and said, "But do you really believe that things will always develop the same way, and history will always repeat itself in the exact same manner?"
Roknee interrupted him coldly, "What are you trying to say?"
But Lampard ignored him.
"Our last actual war that involved the entire country mobilizing its forces was twelve years ago, wasn't it? The Constellatiates called it 'The Bloody Year'. Ha! To them, we were one of the people who caused the catastrophe," Chapman Lampard said impassively, as though he was talking to himself.
Archduke Trentida and Archduke Lecco exchanged glances and saw the hints of doubt in each other's gazes.
"How about the war before that?" Lampard was still talking to himself. A strange light glimmered in his eyes. No one answered him. Lampard continued to shake his head and mumbled to himself,
"Right. A hundred years ago—the Fourth Peninsular War. It's so old that I could only read about it in history books."
Lampard closed his eyes and heaved a long sigh. The Archduke of Black Sand Region looked at Olsius. This time, he no longer spoke to himself.
"Reybien Olsius." Lampard raised an eyebrow, lifted his right hand and gestured at the man, who remained unmoving. "Do you still remember that captive?"
Archduke Olsius frowned. "Captive?"
"Uh-huh." Lampard lifted an index finger and made a light tap in the air, as though he was reminiscing.
"Twelve years ago, I had just become an archduke. We took Broken Dragon Fortress..." His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "About more than a month after the first day of spring, ten thousand Eckstedtian soldiers ventured south to Constellation, singing battle songs."
As Archduke Lampard reminisced about the past, the other archdukes, too, lowered their heads and recalled those days of war.
"When we seized Cold Castle," Lampard said plainly, "Due to the overly chaotic situation—tens of thousands of people pillaged the place—we had to stay behind to count the loot and manage logistics. I found every literate clerk and official who knew mathematics in Black Sand Region." The Archduke of Black Sand Region snorted in disdain. "You did pretty much the same."
Olsius shrugged.
"They spent a day and a night rounding up and counting the number of captives, the amount of rations, and the loot. Then... those morons…" Lampard said with emotion.
Archduke Olsius frowned as he continued Lampard's words. "…They gave us the wrong number and planned the ration deliveries based on it."
Lampard snorted, he felt plenty of emotions in him at that moment, but most of it was mockery.
"On the day itself, things went wrong with the rations that were supposed to be delivered to Dragon Clouds City. During the siege of Ice River City, thousands of combatants did not have their lunch. The attack on the city was delayed because they had to collect rations from the city perimeter." Lampard shook his head. His eyes were filled with nostalgia. "Nuven's statement of condemnation was delivered on the next day, chastising us as usual: 'Never mind the war. Can't you even count?' His exact words."
Archduke Olsius sighed. "He kept thinking that we were holding the soldiers back."
Lampard nodded.
"That was normal. After all, it was an unprecedented expedition—the basic necessities of ten thousand men..." Olsius shrugged. "Half of the recruited soldiers had to carry the supplies. Considering that we were on foreign land, it was hard to not make any mistakes."
"Indeed." Lampard's gaze turned grim. "We punished many men and killed a number of them. But the logistics was still a mess.
"Do you remember? There was a captive named Vlad, a Northland commoner living in the Northern Territory. He claimed to have learned mathematics and literature in some god-knows-what accountancy school, so he volunteered to help us."
Olsius did not speak; he remembered.
Lampard snickered. "I remember you were furious, attempting to behead this arrogant captive who claimed he could settle the ration supplies for our army that consisted of ten-thousand men."
Olsius narrowed his eyes. "But you stopped me."
Lampard sighed, the emotion in his gaze was complicated.
"Yes," Lampard said faintly, "That captive asked for assistance from his peers: Constellatiates who had learned mathematics, were literate, and had relevant expertise. With pen and paper, they settled the matter within half a day. The numbers were on the dot, everything was neatly done. King Nuven's condemnations stopped coming in."
Archduke Roknee frowned impatiently. "Why are you talking about these things?"
Lampard looked up with a sharp, piercing gaze. "It's because this is not a coincidence—the war twelve years ago. Did you not sense anything?"
The archdukes' expressions changed somewhat.
"Remember? All of you-Roknee did not make it to the war, the City of Faraway Prayers did not participate in that expedition. But Lecco and Trentida were on the frontlines, by Nuven's side." Lampard shook his head.
Archduke Roknee narrowed his eyes. Archduke Lecco did not speak, but simply stared blankly at Lampard.
Archduke Lampard breathed out a long sigh with a hint of hesitance in his eyes. "Afterwards, despite the time spent and the large number of casualties, our invincible army managed to advance smoothly into the Northern Territory. The campaign was a success..."
Lampard narrowed his eyes and changed the focus abruptly. "...Until we encountered those teenaged soldiers from the south."
"Hm." Archduke Trentida nodded with a sobering look and picked up where he left off, "The Duke of Star Lake, John Jadestar's Starlight Brigade."
Archduke Lecco and Archduke Olsius flinched a little simultaneously.
"No." Archduke Lampard shook his head in disagreement. "The Starlight God of War was already dead at the time."
A spark of wariness flashed in his eyes. "In fact, what we were up against… was the head of his personal guards…
"...Sonia Sasere's Starlight Brigade."
No one spoke, until Archduke Lecco sighed and, still shaken, uttered a name,
"The Inextinguishable Starlight."
Chapter 237: The Virtuous King |
"Yes… The Inextinguishable Starlight." Lampard nodded his head thoughtfully.
"What are you trying to say?" Archduke Roknee frowned. "That our greatest threat is Lady Sonia Sasere?"
However, Lampard did not bother with him, the Archduke of Black Sand Region just stared at the table and continued speaking.
"The Starlight Brigade is quite young—still greenhorns. Even with the combat experience against the rebel army, they are still weak against Northland warriors, who are seasoned by war and who stand triumphant against all obstacles.
Archduke Lecco's expression changed as he became lost in thought.
"We defeated them in the beginning of the war on the road from Central Territory to the Northern Territory." Lampard sucked in a deep breath and his visage became hard and firm. "There was nothing special. It was like the usual: The light cavalry scouted ahead, the archers suppressed the enemy, the light infantry held back the main forces, the heavy cavalry launched the charge which would decide the battle."
Lampard gently nodded his head, but his gaze was filled with complex emotions.
"With just one head-on charge, their main force was defeated. The remaining soldiers scattered and fled. In fact, we didn't even need to deploy our heavy swordsmen or heavy-armor axemen whom were specially employed to fight tough battles. It was a piece of cake, like the enemies during the olden days."
Lampard raised both his fists. His right fist beat forcefully onto the hole of his left fist, like a craftsman hammering a nail.
"You gather the best and toughest warriors, destroy their strongest section with thunder-like strikes, and then wait for the rest of them to escape, collapse, cry, surrender, and never recover again.
"They aren't even as hardy as the private army belonging to those suzerains of the Northern Territory. At least those soldiers are Northlanders."
Archduke Roknee shot Lampard a curious look. "So?"
As someone experienced, Lampard sensitively noted this question. Neither Archduke Olsius nor Archduke Trentida spoke a word. Their gazes were serious, and there was even a hint of… respect?
"That's how the Starlight Brigade is," Archduke Lecco answered him. Only a long sigh was heard coming from the old archduke. "Back then, no one paid them any attention." The bald Archduke of Defense City shook his head. "... Until a few days later."
Roknee frowned slightly. Lampard continued the topic.
"Several days later, the teenaged soldiers who were originally supposed to cast their armor away, utterly defeated, disperse in every direction, and make like departed spirits… returned." Archduke Lampard sat on a chair and narrowed his eyes.
Roknee was a little stunned.
"When we were about to conquer Ice River City, they stood once more before us," Lampard said plainly, as if he distantly saw this scene from over ten years ago play over.
"Although there was only a few of them, they were organized, and had structure and formation, as though they were just enlisted." Lampard continued with an airy voice and misty eyes. "At the very next moment, they simply set up formation and decisively raided our rear before our siege could claim our victory."
"As if someone had rekindled dying embers."
"No." Archduke Lecco closed his eyes as he shook his head. "Not embers... It was the Inextinguishable Starlight."
Archduke Roknee's questions only grew.
Archduke Lecco suddenly opened his eyes. "But we still defeated them… again."
Lampard looked at him. "Yes... Again." The Archduke of Black Sand Region slowly nodded his head. "But this time, we sent the light cavalry to capture and kill them, we wanted to completely vanquish them as quickly as possible."
"We lost nearly a tenth of our light cavalry. I was the one who sent those troops." Lecco exhaled a breath.
"And then?" Lampard's expression was unreadable. He answered his own question, "It happened again."
Roknee raised his eyebrows. 'It happened again?'
"It happened again!!" Only Lampard's loud voice was heard, and it was a firm voice, like metal striking against metal.
"The Starlight Brigade fled in every direction. A few days later, under their battle flag, they regrouped at the riverbank of Shepherd's River and charged at us again."
Archduke Roknee's expression finally changed.
"How did that happen?" the Archduke of the City of Faraway Prayers asked in shock, "How did they regroup the remaining defeated soldiers? Morale? How did they keep up with supplies and logistics?"
Lampard shook his head.
"This game was repeated several times." Lampard sounded tired. "But no matter how many times we defeated them, as long as they were not completely annihilated, the troops that fled could always be rebuilt. I, too, do not know how they managed the logistics on the damn battlefield, but at least the look of the group of soldiers was very firm. Then, while we were on the offensive, resting, replenishing our supplies, or changing shifts—those times when we were less alert and very disheveled—they came at us like wraiths and attacked suddenly."
Archduke Lecco's expression darkened. "The Inextinguishable Starlight—this is the nickname we gave them."
Lampard snorted.
"The thing that puzzled us is that this young, regular army, even after such crippling defeat, could rise again without a problem," the Archduke of Black Sand Region said in a low voice.
No one responded. Archduke Olsius frowned as he looked at everyone else.
"The Starlight God of War is a good leader. He trained his personal troops well, this is a part of his honor," Lloyd said firmly, "This one is such a worthy rival, even after his death, their souls remained forever."
Lampard's laughter came at an inappropriate time.
"Are you sure? Just because John Jadestar was an honourable militant, the militiamen under him became warriors of such exceptional quality?" Lampard let out a faint, cold laugh, then harshly said, "So our king, archdukes, nobles, leaders, and even our soldiers are just trash?"
All the archdukes had cold looks on their faces.
"Be careful with your words, Lampard." Lecco narrowed his eyes. However, Lampard ignored them.
"How did this happen? They were isolated and helpless, found difficulty in defeating our troops, and they were called the 'inextinguishable' unit?" Lampard's expression was firm and persistent. "We were puzzled, bewildered and surprised, because even the Northlanders—famed for their skill in battle—did not expect this kind of situation."
The other archdukes were in deep contemplation.
"That's right. Northlanders are the sturdiest humans with the most zealous of spirits. Under the same conditions, no one could ever defeat us in battle, even our worst enemies!"
Lampard raised his head and spoke with a determined voice, but he clenched his fists and his tone immediately changed.
"But even if it was us, the most powerful military nation on the Western Peninsula…
"Once, when we obtained a great victory, the general had to spend a day to set up camp and check inventory. He sent his trusted nobles and personal officers. They either brought them weapons or the nobles' warrant to either placate or draw to their side the warriors who had become so excited and rabid that they went berserk, pillaged until their hands were numb, or snatched things from others until other people's pants nearly fell off; and these warriors were scattered at the perimeter of the battlefield, either venting their rage or were chasing down an enemy.
"The normal efficiency rate is to get the army in order within a day and night, then continue marching onward the next day."
Archduke Lecco shook his head. "That's not strange," the old archduke said slowly, "that's how we've been fighting for the past hundred years."
Lampard whipped his head around and shot a gaze as sharp as a blade at the old archduke. His gaze was so piercing that the old archduke turned his head slightly, averting eye contact.
"And when we lose?" Lampard asked coldly, "Even Eckstedtians will scatter in panic and terror once they lose. Without weeks or months available to us, it's impossible for us to get ourselves in order again and arrange the logistics, much less gather the scattered army together when everyone is flustered and at a loss for what to do! This is not same as hunting where you only need to blow a whistle and the loyal hound runs back.
"As for the rapid regrouping and reorganizing, deployment of personnel, arranging logistics, organization of an army, re-planning allocation of military power, and re-entering the army on short time?
Lampard crossed his arms tightly as he observed the different expressions on the four archdukes and snorted coldly. "To say this without exaggeration: In all of Eckstedt, only the White Blade Guards and Glacial Sentries can achieve this. I doubt the archdukes' teams of personal guards and the regular soldiers can do it." He looked at Roknee.
"Kulgon, your City of Faraway Prayers has seen much bloodshed in the Golden Passage and the Great Desert. In Eckstedt, your soldiers are deemed as outstanding." Lampard pouted his lips. "Could they...?"
