20demayo #518 - Making a plan (Part 2)
#518 - Making a plan (Part 2)
Looking at the lines on the map, Putzelio couldn't help but admire the Grand Commander of the Border Knights.
In decades of fighting vampires, the old Grand Commander Lacunio had cultivated a keen strategic intuition and planning ability.
Although he himself did not achieve major victories, he kept the vampires behind the Kush River, unable to advance an inch for thirty years.
Putzelio originally thought Lacunio was just a mediocre general, but now he believes he is definitely a hidden famous general.
Of course, this is based on the assumption that Lacunio is not just an armchair strategist, but given his decades of experience as Grand Commander of the Knights, he probably wouldn't engage in such impractical theorizing.
"It's a pity that a pearl is cast before swine," Putzelio lamented, smacking his lips. "Can I ask about the current military strength of the Salvation Army?"
"According to battlefield intelligence, excluding auxiliary troops, there are approximately five thousand infantry and one thousand cavalry. If we include allied forces and even the Arcane Society's troops, it approaches fifteen thousand."
Lacunio curled his lip. "Don't believe those street knights who talk about fifty or a hundred thousand. They were just embarrassed to be defeated by farmers, so they exaggerate. The Salvation Army's numbers aren't that high."
"But according to the Osla family's intelligence, they are famous for their infantry and are quite elite, to the point that..." Putzelio stopped, realizing Prince Condé was present.
Prince Condé didn't show much anger on his face, simply responding calmly, "Currently, the two and a half depleted Edict Companies are still being replenished, probably able to restore sixty percent of their original strength."
"The bishops, in order to appease the public, have always been inconsistent in their propaganda about the Salvation Army's strength. One, three, and five, they're as insignificant as ants; two, four, and six, they're like gods; and on Sundays, they're about to break down the door," Lacunio shook his head dismissively. "The true strength of the Salvation Army can be seen from their path to rise."
"Could you elaborate?"
"The Salvation Army's predecessor was refugees, and they weren't crushed only because of the Gallar siblings, which gave them time to grow.
These refugees were all elites who escaped from the encirclement and suppression of the Edict Companies and local garrisons. The weak were either abandoned or died on the march.
Under the threat of death, they developed the quality most needed by elite infantry—discipline.
The subsequent battles of Long Bridge, Pavia, and Black Mountain were all desperate situations where defeat meant death. Excessive external pressure forged such a good piece of iron.
I dare say that if some soldiers of the Salvation Army could embark on the path of a knight, as long as there are no problems with their talent, their will is enough to cross the threshold of Edict Knights, or even titled knights."
Putzelio couldn't help but question, "Isn't that an exaggeration?"
"It's not an exaggeration. Their soldiers are not afraid of death, their morale is high, and they are good at attrition warfare. That is the key to their strength, but it also means they will definitely not be able to expand their army too much," Lacunio stroked the lines on the map. "This is one of the reasons why I say the Salvation Army's stretched battle lines will lead to a thinning of their forces."
"Are you saying they won't expand their army?"
Lacunio nodded. "Yes."
"From the existing intelligence, I believe they are relying on these terrifying veterans as the backbone of their army.
Otherwise, they couldn't have such discipline and morale. It must be the most fanatical believers who have such a mentality.
The reason I say they cannot expand their army in a short period of time is because the number of these fanatical veteran believers is limited. Even if they forcibly replenish their numbers, their strength will not be as good as before."
Lacunio said confidently.
Although he highly valued the Salvation Army, considering them more elite and dangerous than Moliati's army,
he placed the two on an equal footing in terms of danger.
But from a long-term strategic perspective, he ultimately despised these brainless farmers.
They were actually confiscating the homes of nobles and distributing church lands on a large scale in their territory.
The former meant they couldn't get elite soldiers, and the latter meant they couldn't get administrative talent.
This meant they couldn't develop their strength internally, and had almost no other way but to expand outwards to maintain their army.
If, after taking Jeanne d'Arc Fortress, that Pope Hohenzollern were to bring in some ancestor or relative and turn them into the new Duke of Kush on the spot,
then Lacunio would tell Prince Condé to forget about Moliati and go all in on the Salvation Army, otherwise it would be too late.
Knights just need a lord to be loyal to; they don't care who that lord is.
In the current situation, if Thousand River Valley is occupied by Moliati, then it has truly fallen into Moliati's hands.
But if it is occupied by the so-called Salvation Army, it is only a temporary occupation. The Salvation Army's system is just a fantasy. The Holy Treasury is simply unreasonable, and even without external forces, it will collapse on its own.
The only variable is that thing.
"I heard the Salvation Army has some kind of magical lightning rods. Will that have any impact on the plan?" Putzelio asked about the matter that Prince Condé was worried about.
"We have investigated those lightning rods," Lacunio, as soon as he entered Thousand River Valley, even before reaching Feiliu Fortress, did one thing first—he met with the defeated knights.
From these knights, he gradually supplemented his intelligence on the clockwork guns. After arriving at Feiliu Fortress, he even spent a lot of effort to have the demon hunters obtain a discarded clockwork gun from the Salvation Army.
Unlike those ignorant country knights, after figuring out the Salvation Army's combat mode and the clockwork guns, Lacunio's first reaction was disbelief, and his second reaction was horror.
Unaffected by divine magic, capable of dense spellcasting, extremely fast, and able to pierce knight armor, these magical crossbows!
It was as if all the flaws of magic had been removed. This was even more terrifying than the bone archers on the border battlefield.
If this thing could be popularized, then the knights would really be doomed.
Now, if a farmer assassinates a knight, he is discovered halfway, and the knight can't even be touched by their attacks.
In the future, if a farmer assassinates a knight, he can blow his head off with a shot from a hundred paces away.
In that case, which knight would dare to leave the castle? If they didn't dare to leave the castle, wouldn't the commoners really become the masters?
Fortunately, the only flaw of this thing is probably that it costs a lot and takes a long time to train.
Because in the intelligence Lacunio obtained, the number of these magic crossbowmen has always been small.
But this is to be expected. If it cost little and took little time, would such a good thing exist?
If that were the case, then Lacunio would have already used war to support war and created an army of hundreds of thousands to sweep across the empire.
If they really had that ability, why wouldn't they conquer the heavens and become an emperor, instead of being a small rebel in the Thousand River Valley?
"So far, we don't have enough means to deal with that clockwork gun," Lacunio admitted this point in front of Putzelio.
Prince Condé then added, "So we all believe that if there is an opportunity to eliminate them, we must quickly eliminate the Salvation Army.
As for the deeply rooted Moliati's hillbilly knights, we can only grind them down slowly, besiege and strike at reinforcements, and gradually wear down their foundation."
"What do you think?" Lacunio followed up in a timely manner.
Putzelio didn't speak, but lowered his head. He gently swirled his wine glass, looking at the pale blue wine clinging to the glass. Then he raised his glass and smiled: "Cheers."