Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World
Chapter 243: The Battle of Fort Bidou 2
Chapter 243: The Battle of Fort Bidou 2
TL: Etude
After the initial excitement over the new muskets subsided, everyone remembered they had serious matters to discuss and returned to the conference room.
“Why is there anything to discuss? All our men are assembled. Let’s fight!”
“Yeah! Let’s send someone to deliver a declaration of war now! Let’s see if that Kent brat has the guts!”
“I just want to finish this and return home to my farming!”
“However, considering today’s situation, it seems likely that the enemy has received reinforcements!”
Many advocated for immediate warfare, while others suggested caution.
Amid the indecision and noisy debate, a guard entered the conference room.
“My lords, an envoy from the Kent family has arrived.”
Count Parker instructed, “Let him in. Let’s hear what he has to say.”
The guard complied and soon brought in a man who, judging by his attire, appeared to be a lower-ranking noble.
The envoy introduced himself and then got down to business:
“I am here on the orders of Viscount Jace Kent to advise you to surrender quickly…”
Before the envoy could finish, a burly knight burst out angrily:
“That coward Jace sent you just to spout nonsense?”
The room erupted in laughter at the knight’s crude remark, though no one reprimanded him.
Unfazed, the envoy continued with a tone of regret, shaking his head:
“What a pity! How many innocent lives will be lost…”
The impatient knight interjected, “Enough of your whining. Speak your piece or get lost!”
“Hmph… Such rudeness!”
Muttering under his breath, the envoy cleared his throat and said, “My other task is to convey Lord Kent’s proposal: both sides to refrain from deceit and conspiracy, and to set a time to arrange our formations in the middle ground where we stand opposed, for a fair fight. Do you dare?”
“Why wouldn’t we dare?”
“That’s underestimating us!”
“We should be saying that to you!”
The allied commanders were indignant, banging the table and raising their voices.
The envoy, with a barely perceptible smile, continued, “In that case, we propose to commence battle in two days. Both sides, having skirmished today, need to regroup. In two days, we can both bring our best to the fight. However…”
He paused, then added, “This is just our suggestion. If you prefer another date, we are agreeable – three days, four days, even tomorrow or the day after, we are ready any time.”
A buzz of discussion filled the room, but ultimately Count Parker summed up everyone’s thoughts, addressing the envoy, “Fine, we’ll fight in two days. That’s the time you have to write your wills. If you wish to meet your end sooner, we’re agreeable to that too.”
The envoy bowed and replied, “Since you agree, I shall take my leave. Oh, and one more thing: can we exchange the prisoners we’ve taken so far?”
Count Parker waved him off, “We’ll talk about that after deciding the victor.”
“Lords, see you in two days, when one of us will become the other’s captive.”
The envoy bowed and left the room.
Derrick, deep in thought, spoke to the group:
“I have a feeling that Jace is just buying time. If we attack now, utilizing our muskets and cannons, we could achieve a significant victory.”
“Shut up, Derrick,” another retorted. “Remember the foolish thing you did today? Forgotten your pain already?”
“You…”
Count Malkan’s remark made Derrick’s face turn red with embarrassment, but the events of the day left him with little ground to retort.
“Didn’t the envoy just say they’d be ready to fight tomorrow if we chose? Does this sound like stalling?”
“And since we’ve already agreed on a time for the battle, launching a surprise attack now would damage our honor!”
Others also disagreed with Derrick’s suggestion.
Noticing the tense atmosphere in the meeting, Count Parker spoke up, “Alright, it’s nearly dark now, obviously no time for battle. Besides, our troops need time to coordinate with each other. Let’s face the Kent family in two days.”
As the initiator of the alliance, Count Parker’s decision was final, and Derrick had no more to say.
With the serious discussion concluded, the servants brought in dishes and barrels of fine wine, and the allied commanders began to enjoy their dinner together.
“Ah, right! Colonel Ald, I’m addressing you correctly, am I not?” Count Parker said while cutting a steak, calling over to Bryce.
“Yes, Lord Parker.”
Bryce hurriedly responded, reluctantly setting down his cutlery.
“I need to discuss something with you. Bring the map here.”
A servant quickly spread a map on the table.
“Come take a look, Colonel Alda.”
Bryce stood up and joined the count, looking at the map.
“If your troops need anything, you can resupply from these three neighboring villages,” the count pointed out.
Bryce understood, “Thank you for considering this for us, Lord.”
Count Parker laughed heartily, “Don’t mention it.”
Viscount Johnston, sitting nearby, raised his glass to Bryce.
“Hey, man of the Grayman family, don’t be too polite with the villagers here. They’re very ‘hospitable’!”
Bryce smiled back, understanding the euphemism for ‘resupply’.
Per his lord’s instructions, Alda’s troops were to maintain good relations with the locals as much as possible, sourcing supplies from their own territory.
However, Bryce was prepared to take measures in extreme situations.
Viscount Johnston refilled his glass, raising it high.
“To the hospitable people of Fort Bidou!”
“Cheers!”
Everyone raised their glasses, joining in the toast.
Given the warzone environment, everyone was cautious not to drink too much. After dinner, they dispersed.
“I must remind you, control your soldiers well in these two days. Prepare for battle and avoid indulging in drink and women. And watch out for spies.”
Count Parker issued this reminder as they were leaving.
In those times, military camps weren’t just populated by commanders and soldiers.
Traders selling supplies, prostitutes engaging in their trade, and even the families of officers and soldiers were all present.
So, during their training downtime, the soldiers easily found diversions, enjoying a drink in tented pubs or chatting with ladies in caravan brothels.
Naturally, in such a mixed environment, military intelligence was easily leaked. While everyone was vigilant against spies, they never thought to change this environment, perhaps because this was how a military camp was expected to be in the eyes of the world.
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