... (Previous content omitted) ...
The next morning, snow began to fall outside the king's palace in Parravon. The weather was exceptionally cold, yet armies from all corners of Bretonnia continued to arrive, filling the barren lands of Parravon with camps.
Inside the manor, Veronica and Theresa, who had just been ennobled the day before and were now the center of envy and admiration among countless sorceresses and women, were still lying in the king's bed.
The newly appointed Baroness of Troyes, Head of the Sorceress Council, Veronica, had a rosy complexion and glowing skin. Her chestnut-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, and half of her soft bosom peeked out from under the blanket. One of her delicate feet, clad in black semi-transparent Lycra diamond-patterned stockings with sparkling rhinestones, was exposed. The small bow on her ankle swayed slightly, and the red nail polish on her toes beneath the sheer stockings was particularly striking.
"Ugh, my back aches, and my legs feel like jelly. That brute is like a wild bull. He's going to break me apart," Veronica groaned as she woke up, trying to move but finding her legs too weak and her lower back sore. She could only lie still. Glancing at Theresa, who was lying beside her wrapped in the blanket—her nominal sister and rival for most of her life—Veronica couldn't help but sneer, "Stop pretending to be asleep. He's gone. Who are you pretending for? Me? I have no interest in watching women sleep."
Theresa finally opened her eyes. The sunlight from the snowy day outside filtered through the curtains. The sorceress turned over, her face so red she could hardly face anyone. She wrapped herself tightly in the blanket and reached out to the bedside table, searching for her glasses with purple butterfly patterns and gold trim. "Good... good morning, Veronica."
"Hmph, I've known for years that this day would come, but now that it's here... it's still strange," Veronica adjusted her pillow and leaned back against it, her face full of disdain. "I never expected our little princess to be as weak as the rumors say. Pathetically weak, really."
"I... I don't know why it's like this," Theresa, who was usually cold and aloof, couldn't muster any defiance in front of Veronica. She could only whisper in defense, "It's always been like this. He can do whatever he wants."
"No wonder you always drag Olica or... someone else along," Veronica scoffed, though her face also turned red as she recalled the times she had teamed up with Olica or Morgiana. The head of the Sorceress Council crossed her arms and said nonchalantly, "Well, it's not so bad with you. Now that you've been ennobled, with status, honor, and wealth, you should go back and tell your meddling sister to stop causing trouble for Ryan."
"I am me, and she is her. Mother only sought the title for Ciel's sake," Theresa said, even more embarrassed. The sorceress shook her head, "I never expected Ryan to ennoble me."
"Ryan ennobling you is only natural!" Veronica sneered. "Didn't you notice what Ryan said in his decree? He praised you for your understanding, your intelligence work, your good character, and your pure heart. And compared to me, he granted you an extra twenty square kilometers of land. Do you think he was ennobling just you? He was ennobling all three of you!"
Theresa didn't respond. The sorceress seemed to recall something, her face turning red as she let out a soft "Hmph." "I can't control what Mother does. Let it be."
"Ha! Let it be~" Veronica deliberately mimicked Theresa's tone, making the sorceress even more embarrassed.
"You shouldn't always lock yourself in your ivory tower, either researching or handling intelligence," Veronica didn't press further. After all, they shared the same man. The head of the Sorceress Council simply reminded her, "Do you know why Ryan personally came to confess to us on the day of our ennoblement? Why did he make such a grand show of taking us to inspect the army and arranging for us to spend the night together?"
"I know," Theresa nodded silently. Ryan was using his influence and authority to protect her and Veronica. Otherwise, countless complaints, impeachment proposals, and objections would have already landed on Morgiana's desk.
"Sometimes I think you're truly naive, and other times I think you're just pretending to be," Veronica sighed. "Thankfully, you met someone like Ryan, who dotes on you and remembers your kindness, shielding you and allowing you to grow. Otherwise, you'd probably just be another fool who got swindled out of money and love."
Theresa's expression darkened at this. She thought to herself, I'm not that weak.
"By the way, Veronica, there's something I want to ask you... have you ever had strange dreams, or occasionally had fragmented memories flash through your mind?" Theresa hesitated for a moment. After their first time serving Ryan together, she felt she could share something with Veronica. "Starting a few years ago, I've sometimes had strange flashes in my mind—a familiar place, a bizarre dream, me and... Mother sitting somewhere, unable to move."
"Like what?" Veronica asked casually.
"Sometimes I receive a lot of knowledge in my dreams. Other times, I have flashes of strange memories, like techniques and habits related to clothing," Theresa said, puzzled. "You know, Veronica, I used to prefer wearing tight pants, leather pants, and boots. I rarely wore stockings. But starting two or three years ago, I've felt like I can't go without stockings. It feels unnatural, both physically and mentally, if I don't wear them."
"It's not a big deal. It's probably Ryan implanting those things into your mind through psychic energy. That dog of a man has his preferences. My habit of always wearing stockings was also cultivated by Ryan, bit by bit," Veronica said dismissively. "You'll get used to it. He likes you wearing them for him."
"Is that so?" Theresa still felt a bit strange but stopped doubting.
It seemed she was overthinking it.
The two newly ennobled baronesses and Saint Realm sorceresses were exhausted. After chatting for a bit, they got up, took a bath, had Sylvie change the bedsheets, and then returned to their respective tents to rest.
That day, Ryan inspected the Royal Army of Bretonnia once more.
The Chief Political Commissar of the 1st Guards Lancer Regiment, Belial, and the Foreign Minister, Talleyrand, accompanied him throughout.
"Train for war, dare to win!"
To further enhance the combat effectiveness and cohesion of the troops, improve the morale and physical fitness of Bretonnian knights and soldiers, and uphold the image of the Knightly Army, ensuring they can "deploy, charge, and win" at critical moments.
In late December of Imperial Year 2521, the Royal Guards of Bretonnia underwent physical training under the inspection of the Sun King, Ryan, to comprehensively assess the overall physical condition of the troops and prepare for the upcoming major battle.
The High Command, considering the current operational needs and the physical condition of the soldiers, collaborated with several marshals to devise a detailed training plan. The training included endurance tests and combat response drills, providing a comprehensive understanding of the soldiers' physical fitness and serving as a reference for the upcoming war against the beastmen.
The training covered various subjects, including policing tactics, line advancement, armed cross-country marches, pike and halberd formations, knightly charges, greatsword formations, and volley fire from handgunners and grenadiers. During the training, the officers and soldiers displayed high morale, strict discipline, and loud chants, fully showcasing the excellent spirit of the Bretonnian Royal Guards.
Through this physical and tactical training, the overall capabilities and quality of the troops were thoroughly assessed. The soldiers' willpower and physical endurance were effectively tempered, their potential fully unleashed, and their physical fitness significantly improved, laying a solid foundation for the upcoming major battle and the series of arduous wars to come.
The Sun King of Bretonnia, Ryan Malcador, the First Marshal and Duke of Bastonne, Bohemond, the Second Marshal and Duke of Quenelles, Francois, the Marshal of the Northern Army and Duke of Couronne, Laon, the Marshal of the Continental Army and Marquis of Galamont, Calard, the Commander of the Old Guard, Bertrand, the Marshal of the 1st Guards Lancer Regiment, Rokossovsky, and the Marshal of the Mousillon Army, Davout, all participated in the training and gave high praise. Ryan delivered a speech: "The Royal Guards are the most decisive combat force of the Knightly Kingdom and the core of our military strength. You must always maintain high morale and combat readiness, closely united around the Lady of the Lake and the King. You are the strong backbone of Bretonnia. Continue to improve your skills and physical fitness, preparing for our alliance with the Wood Elves and the coming End Times."
After the inspection, Francois approached Ryan. The father-in-law smiled and said, "Your Majesty, we've already gathered 60,000 troops. That's enough. There's no need to gather more."
"Yes, I understand," Ryan nodded slowly.
Currently, 60,000 Bretonnian troops had gathered in Parravon, consisting of 40,000 elite field troops and 20,000 semi-professional policing forces. In addition, the number of logistical support personnel had already reached 120,000.
According to news from the Wood Elves, while their forces were still assembling, it was estimated that at least 19,000 Wood Elf field troops from various kingdoms would gather, led by Ariel's chosen champion, Araloth, and her two daughters, the Twilight Sisters.
This brought the total to 80,000 troops. Francois's point was that this was sufficient.
To put it bluntly, the entire Bretonnian field army numbered around 70,000. Ryan had already gathered 40,000. Gathering more would affect border defense and internal security. With a population of just over eight million, Bretonnia's standing field army and semi-professional duchy policing forces, calculated at 25-35 civilians supporting one professional soldier, amounted to about 250,000-300,000 troops. After deducting the costs of maintaining knights, the total military strength was around 200,000-220,000. Ryan's mobilization of 60,000 troops, including 40,000 field troops, to eliminate Morghur was already a significant effort.
Even without considering logistics, more troops weren't always better. What mattered was having more field troops capable of fighting and willing to fight.
Ryan recalled his previous life, where a certain island nation was often mocked for its "village-level battles." In the famous first battle of the Genpei War, the Battle of Fujikawa, how were the forces of both sides recorded in history?
The Minamoto clan, led by Minamoto no Yoritomo, had 40,000 troops.
The Taira clan, led by Taira no Kiyomori, had 70,000 troops.
At first glance, this was no village-level battle. It was a major conflict involving 110,000 troops.
However, according to the recollections and fragmentary accounts of the samurai from both sides, how many soldiers actually participated in the battle?
No mistakes, no omissions, no exaggerations—just 4,000.
Does that seem contradictory?
Not at all. Both the 40,000 and 70,000 figures were true, and the 4,000 figure was also true.
The reality was that only those 4,000 were there to fight!
Similarly, ancient battles often boasted hundreds of thousands of troops, but the numbers were heavily inflated. The older the records, the harder they were to verify, and the more prone to exaggeration. The closer to modern times, the more accurate the records became.
Another example was the Battle of Sarhu during the Ming Dynasty, where the fate of the nation was at stake. The Ming army was said to have 470,000 troops, but how many were actually present?
The exact number is uncertain, but it can be estimated. During Zhang Juzheng's tenure, the Liaodong Army underwent a thorough reorganization and replenishment, resulting in a total of 83,000 soldiers. After the losses from the Japanese invasions and the defeat at Fushun, even with reinforcements from within the Great Wall, the Ming Dynasty could muster at most 100,000 troops, most of whom were poorly equipped garrison soldiers.
The 80,000-strong Bretonnian and Wood Elf alliance was indeed a significant force, especially since most were field troops. Ryan suspected that with proper use, these 80,000 troops could even march into the Phoenix King's court in Lothern and capture Finubar.
Thinking of this, Ryan couldn't help but smile.
This time, I'm definitely going to crush Morghur's ass!
As he was lost in thought, Belial approached. "Your Majesty, Dugan Ironhammer and his Black Powder Brotherhood have arrived."
"Excellent!" Ryan's eyes lit up. "I want to see what surprises Dugan Ironhammer has brought us this time."
Due to the need to fight within Athel Loren, the Wood Elves had imposed a condition on the human army—no artillery.
This meant that the Knightly Army would face two restrictions in this war: first, no artillery or destructive magic that could harm Athel Loren's forests; second, the forest terrain would hinder the effectiveness of heavily armored knights.
Similarly, Ryan's hard-earned Emmanuelle-class Land Cruisers couldn't be driven into the forest, which was a pity.
However, the Bretonnians had no objections to the Wood Elves' demands. Fighting in their territory, firing artillery that could devastate entire lines of trees was... not ideal and could easily anger the ancient treants. But Ryan had made it clear that while artillery was off the table, handguns were a must, and Ariel had agreed.
In a camp in Parravon, the strong smell of black powder wafted from a stone warehouse converted into a Dwarf engineer's workshop.
The door was shut, and the sounds of steam hissing and metal clanging could be heard from within.
The Dwarf master engineer, Dugan Ironhammer, who had finally broken through to the Saint Realm after years of extensive funding and endless experiments, was conducting final tests. He wore a helmet with a single-lens spring-loaded goggle, a steam-powered backpack on his back, and a Dwarf rune shotgun at his waist. A steam-powered warhammer lay nearby.
"Ah, this gear needs a bit of adjustment, and this part here could use..." Dugan was still tinkering when his son, Barik Ironhammer, banged on the warehouse door. "Father! Father, His Majesty is here! His Majesty has come to see our new invention!"
"Ah!" Dugan was startled, dropping a screw. The master engineer couldn't find it and grumbled in frustration, "Damn that little beard! When will he learn to be steady and patient?"
"Ah, forget it!" Dugan Ironhammer gave the device one last check. He slung the steam-powered warhammer over his back and picked up a handheld rotary cannon.
Its official name was the Steam-Assisted Rotary Crank Gun (Prototype 2).
The door swung open, and the chief master engineer proudly presented his new weapon to everyone. The cannon's eight thin black barrels spun at high speed, spitting out dozens of tongues of fire into the sky within seconds!
"Hahaha! Chaos scum! Your Dwarf grandpa is ready!"
Ryan looked at Dugan Ironhammer's new toy and couldn't help but marvel.
A Dwarf Gatling gun?
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