Did Ashberon II understand war? This is a complex question.
First of all, the war in the eyes of the people on the West Coast and the war in the eyes of the Empire are two different things. Even if a local power on the west coast like Sivalier came into conflict with the surrounding kingdoms such as Maximilian, the "large battle" with a scale of a thousand people that Sivalier historians talked about was replaced by Otolo. Or in Padrosi's words, they would only call it a "border conflict", not even a real war.
For the empire, a major war involving tens of thousands of troops, similar to the Battle of Acasta where Sivalier collapsed, can only be regarded as a conventional war - of course it is important, but it is not as important as Sivalier was in ruins once he was defeated.
Looking deeper, Silvalier fell into chaos after the defeat of Ecasta. The fundamental reason was that too much emphasis was placed on cavalry before the war. The traditional Shivalier view is that as long as you have cavalry, you can defeat everything. Therefore, from the king to the lords, the policies adopted by the elite are only a few. They only care about and cultivate noble cavalry, and their strength in a single battle is foreseeable. However, once faced with a multi-front battle, the shortcomings of insufficient troops will be exposed. Moreover, since the destruction of Sivalier's 10,000-person cavalry regiment in the Battle of Ecasta, this kingdom that relies entirely on cavalry has ceased to exist in name only.
To put it bluntly, the West Coast people's war was completely chaotic and random. They did not consider objective factors and did not learn advanced ideas from other countries. They only knew how to blindly use inertial thinking. If you have an advantage in one thing, then everything else can be ignored. This kind of thinking and this kind of war cannot be said to be professional and orderly. It is more like the result of great luck, so the victory cannot be replicated. As for Ashbern II, who was born and raised as a West Coaster, he is good at this form of warfare.
Both understand war and know nothing about war.
He was able to defeat the Union Army so smoothly and quickly simply because he commanded a larger army. He didn't understand tactics and strategy. Even if he had read similar books, if he really wanted to command such a huge army, all Ashberon II could do was suppress them with force and order them to keep approaching. No one was responsible for all matters, whether it was logistical supplies or treating the wounded and managing the troops. The nobles were still able to make sense. The militia basically fended for itself. The Southern Allied Forces only won the victory because they had more people. And win after win, win after win.
Just like other precarious West Coast nobles, Ashbern II's vision is short-sighted and narrow, focusing only on immediate interests and failing to consider the long term. And he is used to this way of looking at the world, and doesn't think he needs to make any changes.
——Because, didn’t he win?
There is no need to change because this way has always worked.
There is no need to change because they have never suffered real catastrophe.
The nobles of the southern Avenella, who are proud of their noble status and take all the rights they enjoy for granted, still hold their heads high and their chests high today, wearing tall horses and bright armor.
"Look! The arrogant Otolo Empire, the enemy whose heavy infantry dispatched by the so-called world-class power was brutally wiped out, is unable to resist under our iron heel and is retreating steadily!"
"Look! The traitor and traitor who praised himself to the heavens as if he was the reincarnation of the founding emperor of the Laman Empire. Now he has no choice but to flee in panic, like the mouse who saw the cat or the wolf who saw the dragon!"
Driven by unprecedented self-confidence, the nobles of the Confederate Army even began to question Prince Edward's previous victory over Silvalier in Ecasta - "It must be just coincidence and luck.", they said. They didn't realize that this sentence could be applied to themselves.
The Southern Allied Forces are still advancing, and the road in front of the Nella Forest Corridor has become wider and wider. They are about to leave this area, and the next goal is to recapture the Dordogne - how to distribute the spoils, and the share that was stolen and burned by those guys must be taken back. The nobles began to plot like this in private, not caring that there were more civilians in the Dordogne who had nothing to do with this battle.
Quietly, quietly, like a gradually forming storm, something emerged.
The nobles didn't notice, nor did they care. They were just thinking about the loot they could get after retaking Dordogne.
Everything turned around at noon on July 17th.
The Northern Army, which has been continuously defeated and dispersed since the beginning of July, has its stragglers occupying many strongholds along the Nella Forest Corridor. Since the knights and sergeants stationed in the territory either defected to Ashbern II or joined the Northern Army early in the morning, these knights' forts along the Nella Forest corridor became uninhabited cities, which could be used by the escaping remnants of the Northern Army.
The Southern Allied Forces pursued them throughout the first half of July, and the refugees and lower-level mercenaries who had defected from the Northern Army had nowhere to escape even if they wanted to. The well-hidden Nella Forest is rugged and difficult to navigate, while the smooth roads in the Nella Forest Corridor cannot be compared to the Confederate cavalry. By chance, these people who originally tried to save their lives and escaped from Edward's command became the first victims of this decisive battle.
The Knight's Forts they occupied were easily breached one after another, and the brief confrontations with the Northern Army's large forces always ended in the victory of the Confederate Army. Everything seems to be falling into place——
——Until now.
"Pah! - Boo hoo - seize -"
The twisted hair and beard on his dirty face were tangled together, and the Confederate militiaman with an arrow in the forehead let go of the stick in his hand and fell on his back.
"Come here, come here, we are short of people here, come here! Stupid pig!" Unlike the Northern Army, which had well-trained sergeants, the nobles of the Southern Allied Army did not bother to do this, so they randomly assigned a few farmers Serve as the team leader. And even the nobles themselves know nothing about war. Naturally, you shouldn't expect these militia centurions to understand some tactical points.
——Who to call over? Come where? Who is shouting?
The chaotic battlefield is filled with all kinds of voices, so basic information such as "location" and "person" must be included in the transmission of military orders. However, the farmers do not know this. They just take it for granted that the person they are calling is the one they are calling. He knew that the person he was calling was the person he was calling, and he knew who he was, and he also knew where the "come here" was that he was only thinking about in his mind but never said aloud.
And this is one of the reasons for the confusion.
"Wh-snatch-" "Cough-hiss--" The opponent showed a completely different quality from those of the previous few days.
Even though he is just a militia centurion who does not know how to command, shouting loudly on the battlefield is still a dangerous choice.
The Confederate Allied Forces, the leading militia unit besieging Knight's Fort, got stuck under this small lakeside fort, and they fell into chaos. No matter who their opponent is - the opponent is happy to see this chaos continue.
Their arrows were accurate and deadly, accurately killing those who spoke in an attempt to restore order or convey instructions in the chaotic battlefield. In addition to these precise gods of death, there were others who shot sparse arrows. The arrow made the farmers hide and lose their shit. In addition to the first and second wave of attacks that were relatively orderly, with powerful arrow rains, in the remaining hours, the number of deaths caused by trampling and squeezing, as well as accidental injuries from weapons, caused the death toll of the Confederate Allied militiamen. Far more than those killed by arrows.
"Stuck?!" "Uh-huh - yes, yes, your majesty -" A knight who came to report tremblingly screamed out in fright because of Ashberon II's rage. His voice reported like this, and at the same time he cursed in his heart that his lord who was in charge of the front line had sent him out as a scapegoat because he was afraid of the king.
"How long have you been fighting?" Ashbern II sat on a chair, looking down at him from above. He did not lose his temper, and even his previously high-pitched voice returned to calmness, but this did not make the knight's inner tension any lessened, because the king had killed two earls and three earls in the past half month. The viscount and more than twenty knights--this is almost the vast majority of the top nobles in a duchy--just because they disagree with him.
Most of these people come from the southern territory of the Nella Forest Corridor where the dead Grand Duke Dehat was involved. After the king took control of the Grand Duke's army, the other nobles were also happy to see people from this faction acting as shields. All the rage of the king. And not surprisingly, for Ashberon II, the person sent to lead those "most disposable" militiamen as frontline commanders - that is, the upper lords of the knights - was of course also this person. Faction origin.
"One day -" while the knight was thinking, Ashbern II said in a gloomy tone: "Just one day, you came and told me that I was stuck?"
"But Your Majesty, they couldn't even get close to the city gate and were blocked by the low wall on the outside." Perhaps it was the soul of the deceased Archbishop Dehat who loved the people, but the knight didn't know where he got the courage to open his mouth and open his mouth. The king said this. "So what?" But Ashbern II's drawn-out tone contained no emotion at all: "It's just a knight's castle. How many people can be stationed in it? One hundred? One hundred and fifty?"
"You have fifteen thousand people." He grasped the handle of the chair tightly with his left hand, stared at the knight with his eyes wide open, pointed his skinny hand at him, and said each word in a voice that sounded like he was speaking from between his teeth. In one sentence: "Don't tell me you're stuck."
"Your Majesty, we need a trebuchet, otherwise the sacrifice will be -" I don't know where the courage came from. The knight subconsciously wanted to refute, but the moment he raised his head, he caught the eye of some nobles from other factions behind him. Another young knight glanced at him slightly anxiously. It was like a bucket of cold water being poured from the top of his head, causing him to swallow back the words that could lead to his death. He just lowered his head, saluted heavily, and then turned around to face the outside of the dark blue royal tent. Run.
——
The knight who returned to the front line reported the king's answer to his lord, and the militiamen who had not yet recovered from the failed siege had to pick up their weapons and attack again.
They launched a second round of attacks in the evening. At first they managed to climb over the parapet, but the distance from the parapet to the parapet suddenly became more dangerous. Using the battlements of the parapet as cover, the archers fired a terrifying rain of arrows. And when the brightest and largest moon in the sky, Sifenk's magic moon, rose, the darkness was driven away and the militiamen exposed themselves.
An arrow piercing the heart, such a quick death, is a mercy to them.
As if they were too cold-blooded to sense anything, the enemy's archers, who clearly had precise skills, deliberately aimed at their abdomens and lower bodies, causing many casualties and making the already exhausted Confederate militiamen have to fight in the darkness. I have to listen to the wailing all over the place.
Words like calling for my mother and begging to save my life are like the whispers of the devil, bit by bit eating away at the little morale that is left due to exhaustion - and what is even more cruel than this is when someone fights for his life As he climbed over the parapet and ran to the aid of their mortally wounded companion, the archers murdered him in cold blood, leaving the original man to continue wailing on the ground.
The siege lasted until five o'clock in the morning, because they had not been able to get enough rest for nearly 24 hours, which was coupled with great terror. A small-scale rebellion broke out among the militias on the Confederate front line, but it was quickly suppressed, and some people escaped under the cover of night.
One day and one night, even with a hundred times the strength of the army, it was impossible to crack this hard nut. But the nobles of the Southern Allied Forces didn't think there was anything strange - this was just because the king refused to use precious siege equipment to attack such a small place. If those equipment were to be replaced with human lives, It's natural to take time.
With this in mind, they stayed behind and let their militiamen rush forward one after another.
The ravine was gradually filled up, and the gap between the low wall outside and the ground was leveled by piles of dead bodies. People could already step on the corpses of their companions to directly cross the first wall - but this had lasted for two days and two nights. , the moment the first wave of Southern Allied militiamen crossed the wall, the overwhelming rain of arrows blocked even the moonlight for an instant. The screams of countless people were like a repeat of the previous night, and the psychological shadow of many people exploded. Even if you die, you refuse to rush forward.
The nobles, realizing that they had reached their limit after staying awake for two nights, finally allowed these poor peasants to take a good rest.
"So many people have died, and their arrows are almost used up." A nobleman discussed in front of the peasants, as if the most important role of those living lives was to consume the opponent's arrows.
He should probably be grateful that the farmers could not understand Shivaliye, but even so, his frivolous attitude was remembered by many.
In the second half of the night and close to early morning, the farmers could finally rest again. Anyway, that was the end of the matter, and they could just wait until dawn before attacking again.
They thought so, but when dawn finally came and the Confederate militiamen gritted their teeth and stepped over the low wall with corpses that had begun to stink due to the high temperature, what greeted them was an empty fortress.
Under the clear sunshine of July, the empty Knight's Castle can be seen at a glance, and there is not a single shadow of the archers sneaking on the parapet.
"They all ran away, ran away." The people who opened the door and went in to search brought unexpected results, and when Ashbern II learned that they had wasted three days on such a small but crucial knight's castle. For days and hours, he was not able to kill any enemy soldiers.
The frontline commander became the fearful knight from before.
As for where his lord has gone, everyone knows.
But everyone tacitly kept silent.
On the morning of July 20, the momentum of the Southern Allied forces led by Ashbern II to win consecutive battles was slowed down for the first time. What they did not realize was that something like this was just the beginning.
after all.
Although Ashberon II did not understand war.
The nobles on the Northern Army side, Prince Edward, and Archduke Leski.
And our wise men and their fellows.
But they are all good players. m.
