Swiss Arms 10 (Patreon)

Triple the usual volume.

-VB-

Swiss Arms
Chapter 10

-VB-

Fluela, Barony of Vaz

The sound of over half a thousand men marching forward made Rudolf feel stronger than he ought to feel. That was alright, though, because as soon as the Landwasser valley came underneath their family, they would divide it up for him and his children to rule.

The most crucial of the territories, however, would not be within the valley itself but this Fluela Gorge, where the Fluela Pass connected Landwasser to Zernez. It would be through there that taxes would be passed through, mostly in grain, and so control of the pass itself would have to remain with him or his heir to not cause issues in the ruling of the county. Of course, depending on how long his family could keep their rule over Landwasser quiet, they might be able to get away for a long time, maybe even up to a generation, on how much tax needed to pay.

“Milord, scouts have returned,” his right-hand knight, Sir Conrad, spoke while trotting up to his side, pushing some of the mercenaries out of the way. “It is important information.”

Rudolf did not like the sound of that. Conrad was a serious and blunt man. A little incapable of thinking ahead but he more than made up for it by being able to swing that heavy longsword of his with ease. When Conrad said something was important, it was, and if it was important, then it was usually bad news.

“What is it?” he asked the man with a put upon sigh.

“There is a wooden fort blocking the entire width of the easily traversable portion of the valley.”

He blinked and turned to look at Conrad. “A fort? Up here in the gorge?”

“Yes,” his knight replied. “It was Johan and Memin, milord.”

They were good men and even better men-at-arms. They wouldn’t say anything unneeded or report falsehood. If they said there was a wooden fort covering much of the width of the gorge, then there was a fort-like that up ahead and around the bend.

“How far ahead and are they aware of us?”

“Unknown, milord. Johan didn’t want to approach a fort held by possible enemies.”

“Good approach,” he hummed. “If there is a fort here, then it could only be held by the baron. It must be taken down for us to reach Landwasser valley.”

“Shall we prepare for a siege?”

“No. That will take too long. We will break down the gate and storm the fort. For a small fort, there can’t be more than a hundred men, if that.”

Conrad nodded and quickly trotted off. “Prepare for battle!” he shouted as he ran up and down the length of the marching army. “Prepare for battle! The enemy fort is up ahead! I want the mercenaries on the center and right flank! Archers are to be behind the center!”

The somewhat relaxed men jolted, almost stuttering in place, as they watched one of their commanders give out orders.

While his soldiers and levies halted on this downhill route and readied themselves, Rudolf spurred his horse forward towards the aforementioned scouts. The two scouts, his men-at-arms, bowed when they saw him approach.

“Milord,” they called together.

“Johan. Memin,” he acknowledged each of them. “Tell me about what you saw.”

The two men looked between each other for a moment before Johan, a blonde bearded yet bald thirty-year-old tall man, spoke first. “The walls looked sturdy, milord, even from afar. Far sturdier than the walls of Zernez castle town,” he reported. “The walls are also pretty tall; we’ll need at least a ladder or three to four men on top of each other’s shoulders to get over the wall.”

“And the gate?” Rudolf asked.

“They had a fully functional gatehouse, milord,” Memin, a wide-eyed brunette with a strawberry nose, grunted. “It’s a small double door, barely worth being called a gate, and I wouldn’t call it that, milord, if the doors weren’t metal.”

“... Metal doors?”

“Yes, milord, surrounded by a fully stone-built gatehouse. It’s a short gatehouse, but on top of the gatehouse are some nasty-looking spiked barricades. Climbing that is not going to be easy, especially when the only gatehouse facing this side of the valley has a pair of watchtowers behind it and the walls.”

This was turning out to be a bigger issue than how Johan first presented it.

“What flag does it fly?”

The two looked at each other. They were like that, these two brothers. “They had no flag, milord.”

Rudolf blinked. “No flag?”

“No flag, milord.”

“... So it could be a bandit hideout for all we know?”

“If that’s the bandit hideout, milord, then we have a bigger problem at hand than fighting the valley folks.”

The shorter and cheekier strawberry-nosed man was right. If there was a bandit clan capable of making a fort so quietly and quickly, then it was one capable of fielding enough bandits to make that fort in the first place, which had to be a lot because a fort didn’t come to life in under six months (the last time he got a report of this area from the merchants).

“... Be honest with me, Memin.”

Memin used to be a bandit.

“If that’s a bandit fort, then how many bandits can we expect?”

Memin grimaced. “At least a hundred. Minimum one hundred and whatever poor fuckers they pushed into service.”

Rudolf bit his tongue before he could cuss and alert everyone to possible trouble.

Under one hundred was manageable but over one hundred was not, especially when that hundred plus bandits had a fortified position to strike from.

“But would a bandit build a fort out here? A clan based out here? I don’t think so. There were no others by the time I left mine,” Memin muttered, just loudly enough for the three of them to hear. “It’s more likely to be an unfinished fort made by a noble to tax incoming traffic, no matter how small. So it won’t be a hundred bandits but one hundred levies or mercenaries or whatever with a core of men-at-arms. Milord, we can’t fight that.”

A hundred men undermanned fort was nothing.

Over a hundred men fort was doable but costly.

A trained force of over a hundred soldiers holding down a fort where flanking or surrounding the fort was not possible.

But this was the only way through. The only other way was to go all the way around, back to Zernez, and then strike at one of the even better-fortified towns to the southwest.

They just had to succeed here.

“... Can we do this?”

Rudolf was not the best fighter nor the best tactician. He knew that he needed a lot of help, unlike his father and grandfather whom he looked up to.

Memin held his hands up, sweating a little. “I can’t answer that, milord. I just can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t.”

“Can’t. I haven’t seen anything of this place beyond the walls.”

This time, Rudolf cursed his luck.

“Then we strike at night.”

It was dirty, dishonorable, and demeaning, but his family - his House - depended on him to raise them to glory. Fuck dishonor!

“Johan!” he shouted, and the man came. “Make camp here tonight. We strike at night.”

It would be messy. Rudolf knew that proper commanders avoided night battles because it was messy and no command would survive through the dark melee, but he needed to do it.

He would just have to use the mercenaries first.

-VB-

[Stealth] LvL.4
Sneaky Beaky Like.

Reduces discovery
*0.75% reduction in discovery chance per level.
*Keep reduction when moving silently outside of enemy’s close vision

[Leaf-covered Camo Cape]
In the forest, you will not be so easily seen.
Grade: Moderate
*+50% base stealth in green biomes.
*-5% max movement speed
Durability: 5/5

I sighed as I took off the cape and dropped it behind the locked gatehouse guard post, closed the door, and locked it again before coming back into the fort proper.

There, four dozen people - some volunteer and some not - looked up at me as they paused their drilling.

One of them quickly ran up to me. It was Derrick, Arnold and Alvia’s older brother and Kraft’s second eldest son. He was also the one who took up “arming ourselves” bit of being a militia readily.

“What’s the news, S- Hans?” he asked, quickly biting off what would have come out as “sir,” because I was not a knight and made everyone know that after the first few sirs.

“Some pompous git’s over and around the bend of the valley with over five hundred men,” I grumbled. “They don’t seem to be attacking right now, but all of them are sleeping, or trying to, in the middle of the day. Either they are tired as hell from marching or they are planning a night attack.”

The assembled people - because they weren't soldiers or even proper militia - looked scared but there was a resolute desire to stand their ground. I saw it in how they stood their ground and looked to me for instruction.

For my command.

I wanted to grimace but didn’t because it might send the wrong message. I wanted to grimace because this was not what I planned for my life away from home to become. I wanted … I wanted freedom. Away from the boredom of farm life. Away from the wars that the Swiss would jump two feet into. Sure, this place would become part of that, too, but not to the extent that the Swiss proper would have been. This place was supposed to be a sparsely populated and relatively unknown region. I wanted a home in a place no one cared for. I wanted to explore my powers safely and quietly. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even have a single magic spell and I was a fucking Gamer! I even had plans, no matter how vague they were, about how I was going to make magic spells for myself in this magic-less world!

It’s a fucking shame, ain’t it?!

I gritted my teeth and let out a long sigh of frustration. “Do not spend more than two hours each on drilling. We have to be ready at all times. I want teams of people, at least two dozen in each team, rotating in shifts to man the walls,” I snapped. “I also want arrows being continuously made. No amount of arrows is ever enough. Your spears and armors should be by your side at all times! Get to it!”

The men scattered, and I walked into my towering tower(?) and quickly pulled out my best gear.

I didn’t need to sleep, so I intended to be ready at all times.

---

As the sun waned over the mountaintops, I stood on the battlement of my little fort and intently watched the east, where the enemies were supposed to come from.

Exactly two dozen militiamen stood with me, armored mostly in leather and wielding whatever other scrap they could scrounge together. Though they did not have within them the discipline to stand still like soldiers were expected to on their posts on the eve of battle, they tried their goddamn best to hold their own anxiety under control.

Then I saw them.

As the shadows of the mountain swept over the fort, a small army came around the bend of the valley, carrying with them the red-on-white lopsided cross standard of some lord I knew nothing about. They marched forward, and not a single messenger came to demand my submission.

Chilly winds breezed through the valley as I took in a deep breath.

“ENEMY ATTACK!” I roared.

Soon, I heard my fort come alive with action as men gathered their arms and armor and ran up the stairs to the battlement while a dozen pre-assigned men came to stand guard behind the gatehouse.

I heard a few women weep from the far side of the camp, which actually meant that there were enough weeping that I -.

My eyes widened as I saw women, old and young, walking up the stairs of the battlement. “What are you doing … here… ?” What started off as an intimidating growl slowed to a drop as I saw even child come up and began to drop rocks they had carried up here.

“Helping,” a rotund and strong-looking mother grunted as she dropped a stone as big as her head. “I’m not gonna sit by and do nothing.”

I grimaced but … this would honestly help. Having someone hurl rocks would hurt the enemy.

“Fine then. Then make sure to keep your heads behind the wall at all times until I tell you to start throwing the rocks.”

She nodded and went to help more.

I let out an aggrieved sigh.

I turned back towards the soldiers marching towards my fort, and gave them my best glare. I glanced at the militiamen and rock hauling women and saw fear in their eyes. I needed to do something.

My legs shook. This was nothing like the battle under the command of the baron. These weren’t men called to duty to their feudal lord. Their feudal lord was dead. No one but I was here, and an army had come to burn down my home. I steeled myself and took in a deep breath.

“People of Landwasser!” I cried out.

Some of the women stopped and most of the men looked towards me.

“Look to the east. What do you see?”

I let a moment of silence hang as the people looked, some confused and others grimly.

“I see an army of looters, rapists, and pillagers!” I shouted angrily. “Look to the west!”

They did.

“What do you see? Do you know what I see? I see your homes. I see a good place. I see a good valley. I see a peaceful world. The men coming from the east want to burn it in the name of some lord who cares shit about them! They are not here to better themselves but some dick without nothing better to do but kill you and your families for meaningless gains!” I yelled. “Are you going to let them kill your brothers and sons?!”

What could have been silence was broken by a few cries of denials.

“Are you going to let them rape your daughters and wives?!”

“No!” it was stronger this time.

“Are you going to see your home burn?!”

“NO!”

“Then hold that spear high! Then hold that bow tight! Let your arrows fly true and let your speartips find their victims! Make them bleed for a lord that will do nothing for them! Make them regret thinking that you will lie down and die for their purse!”

Ping!

New Skill gained!

[Oration] LvL.1

Sway allies and enemies to your view
*Subskill [Battlecry] (1 hour cooldown) increases damage dealt and decreases damages taken by all nearby (10 meters) allies for 1 minute by 0.5% per LvL of Oration. All nearby (5 meters) enemies gain fear debuff for the same duration.
*Subskill [Rally Call] (1 hour cooldown) increases ally morale by 1% per LvL of Oration.

I grinned at the screen only I could see. Even 1% was good. I’ll take it all.

“Yours is the speartip that will keep your children safe! Yours is the rock that will keep your lands safe! Yours is the hand that will forge your own fate, not dictated by others!” I roared as the [Rally Call] activated.

I saw everyone puff up as their hairs bristled and their eyes glared out.

I struck out my splayed hand. “FOR LANDWASSER!”

““FOR LANDWASSER!”” the people roared back and thrust their own fists into the setting sun and the army before them.

And the enemy was upon us.

-VB-

“What the hell is going on…?” Rudolf muttered as he watched with wide eyes as the small fort in front of him roared with defiance. It carried with it emotion he didn’t expect, and it niggled at his heart.

“Milord, your orders?” Conrad asked from his side.

What else was there for them to do?

“... Advance.”

“Shields up!” Conrad roared. “And advance!”

The well-armed mercenaries pulled up their disparate shields up and began to advance.

Arrows from the fort battlement flew up and struck down, and to Rudolf’s surprise, mercenaries who should know better and were armored better were going down. It was a good decision to not have his levies upfront like most of his peers.

“Loose!” Conrad shouted at his archers, and they shot back at the fort. Arrows … didn’t find their mark. Most of them struck low to middle of the wooden wall. “They have better range than us somehow!” The fact that it was now night made it worse for them to see what was going on.

“To the wall! Form a shield!”

The army quickly broke up into small groups and rushed the wooden wall. Those with shields quickly got up and put their shields above them as they slammed into the wall, and those without shields hurried underneath them.

That’s when rocks began to get hurled down.

Arrows were one thing but rocks? They pushed shields aside if it wasn’t being held by multiple hands and arms. Whenever the shields went down, men would get peppered by arrows.

Even though it was dark, Rudolf could already see bodies of his mercenaries and men on the grass between him and the fort.

Ladders made by his levies quickly made their way to the wall and men began to climb.

That’s when something fell from the walls. It must have been one of the fort garrison archers, but Rudolf didn’t see any arrows going over there…

His eyes widened when he saw a knight, that was a knight that fell, slammed onto his two feet on the ground, and pulled out two axes.

Then he rushed his shielded and climbing soldiers.

“Stop him!” he roared.

Conrad, just seeing the attacker, shouted the same.

But it was too late.

The first ladder, one of only five they had, snapped in half as the knight, who must be only wearing half of his regular armor, jumped off of a shield held by his soldiers and cut apart the man in the middling of climbing and the ladder itself at once. He landed before the rest of the ladder fell and continued to rush forward. Some of the shielded men in the closest pile of men saw the knight coming and thrust their spears at him.

The knight dodged around the thrust, cut the spear shaft, and crashed into the men underneath the shield. A cry rang out as the shield holder went down and arrows rained down on his men and the night.

Rudolf felt his jaws drop when he saw the knight swerve out of the way of the arrows and let them strike his soldiers.

“This is a disaster,” he muttered. Already, more than fifty of his soldiers were dead, mercenaries, levies, and men-at-arms alike.

The knight then abruptly turned towards him.

Rudolf froze when a metal helmet with narrow slits focused on him.

The knight charged … towards him.

“GUARDS!” Conrad roared as the knight closed in on them at ridiculous speed. “Protect the count!” A dozen of his best knights and men-at-arms stepped forward with their spears, swords, and axes drawn.

There was a blur as the enemy knight reached the first of his knights.

And then his soldier’s head flew off.

There was a pause as everyone tried to register what just happened, but in that single instance, a second knight’s arm - armor and all - flew off with a blood spray and a horrendous scream of pain.

The third soldier, a man-at-arms, quickly held up his shield.

It didn’t do anything as the axe cleaved through the shield and the man-at-arms’s helmet and head.

The knight roared.

Fear swept through them all like a freezing winter chill, and the fourth and fifth knights died like dogs.

The remaining seven stepped back in fear.

Rudolf, shivering and trembling, drew his own sword.

The knight’s head, lolling to the side, snapped forward and locked in on him.

“You,” a grizzly voice dripping with bloodlust growled out. “Will die tonight.”

“CUR!” Conrad roared as he held his longsword up. “CHARGE, MEN!”

All seven knights and men-at-arms roared as they followed Conrad. They held their weapons high and then struck -.

They all watched in disbelief as a man jumped over them all, spinning and cleaving another helmet and head, and then landed behind them.

An axe flew through the air with a heavy whistle and thunked into a soldier’s back. The soldier choked out a scream as he fell forward.

Rudolf barely registered his soldiers by the fort fleeing for their lives. All he saw in front of him was a monster.

“I-I will not die here! My house deserves mo-!”

Why was the man’s arm outstretched?

Why was he falling and spinning?

… Oh, that’s his body.

He looked thin. And weak. Was that how everyone saw him?

It’s … cold …

---

Conrad stuttered as he backed away.

His lord was dead.

All of his knights were dead.

The army had fled for the hills.

The monster turned towards him as he picked up a spear dropped by one of the dead men-at-arms.

“Monster…! Devil!” he hissed.

“No,” the monster replied coldly. “Just a man like you.”

Conrad screamed as the speartip blurred towards him.