Chapter 82: Mont Blanc

Burgundy’s supply base was going up in flames. Leading the Duchy of Beren’s light cavalry, I’d suddenly become an arsonist, but burning enemy supplies we couldn’t loot was the rational choice. The lieutenants and light cavalrymen looked like they were dying inside watching the supplies burn.

It’s tough to bring loot back during guerrilla warfare. First, the added bulk would tire the horses quickly and keep us from picking up speed. Once the enemy found out the supply base had been destroyed in a surprise attack, we’d face fierce pursuit. If I were Count Épinay, I’d be raising hell trying to catch and kill us.

This draws way more aggro than hunting raiding parties.

Taking heavy loot back in that situation?

It’s more rational to escape on horseback.

Just swap to fresh horses when the current ones get tired.

"Unit, fall in! We’re heading east!"

"Sir Streit, we burned the supply base—where are we going now?"

In response to August’s question, I showed him the map.

The lieutenants immediately understood what kind of map it was.

"There’s another enemy supply base not far from here."

"Since we’ve come all this way, we should burn that one too."

"We’re already arsonists anyway—let’s burn it all!"

Arson was a serious crime, but burning enemy strongholds was outstanding military merit—especially supply bases, which could be the decisive turning point in a war. The duchy’s light cavalry under my command was guaranteed massive rewards and honors. We immediately rode east.

The horses’ stamina was running thin.

We ambushed the second enemy supply base.

"En-enemy raid!"

"Infantry, form ranks!"

This supply base was noticeably better defended. Before entering, we had to somehow break through the guard unit blocking the entrance with shields backed by stakes. The one lucky break was that there were no spearmen among the defenders. If spearmen had been densely packed, I would have given up and chosen to retreat.

I had Fiel, the best vanguard leader.

It was a fierce battle, but luckily Fiel’s cavalry lance held up.

"Fiel, can you break their formation?"

"Leave it to me—charge!"

Fiel was a brave knight and the only one among us who knew how to handle a lance with the couched technique, making him a devastating vanguard. For the record, those guards weren’t elite troops. Supply lines are important, sure, but the reality is that the soldiers assigned to guard them are the lowest quality.

Crash!

"Aaaah!"

The formation’s center collapsed in a single blow from Fiel and his cavalry lance. With Fiel’s squad in the lead, the rest of the squads charged through the breach one after another. After that? A one-sided slaughter and arson spree. Our main objective wasn’t killing enemy soldiers—it was burning everything down.

"Ignore the ones running away and set the fires!"

So we found torches and oil and set fires everywhere. The guard captain and supply commander came out to order firefighting, but Fiel and August charged at them like men possessed and cut them down. While all hell was breaking loose, I discovered that this supply base also doubled as a ranch.

There was a horse ranch north of the supply base.

Thirteen horses. And among them, one that caught my eye immediately.

A pure white horse rearing up and resisting fiercely.

Neigh!

With a gleaming coat and powerful build, this beautiful white horse was as fine a steed as Schatten. I’d barely had an eye for horses before, but riding Schatten had raised my standards. Rotbraun was a good horse too, but he couldn’t hold a candle to this white horse or Schatten.

I’d never felt greed like this in my life.

For the first time, I was gripped by the desire to have that horse at all costs.

Plus, it was at the enemy’s supply base.

Legitimate spoils of war—no reason to hesitate.

Oh Lord, let me become a righteous horse thief! Alleluia!

I’d already ordered my men to prioritize taking horses over loot because horses are easier to lead than heavy plunder. On top of that, while most armor was hard to sell at fair value, horses were different. Demand for horses was still insatiable throughout Europe.

The white horse was rearing wildly from the fire and smoke, but I tried to grab the reins and calm it down first. Then an unarmed civilian who looked like a supply unit worker suddenly leapt out and blocked my path. Blocking a knight’s path without a weapon—that takes serious guts.

But this civilian was more terrified than brave.

"Stop! This horse belongs to Count Épinay!"

He spoke in Alemannic, a southern German dialect—not French.

This unarmed civilian was from the Duchy of Beren. Why would someone from Beren be serving under French command? But flames were shooting up everywhere, so there was no time to ask questions. I ignored the civilian and grabbed the reins. The horse reared even more wildly. A worse temper than Schatten?

"Sir Knight! You mustn’t handle Mont Blanc roughly!"

So this horse’s name was Mont Blanc?

In French, it means "white mountain."

Count Épinay had himself a truly fine horse.

"You sound like you’re from Beren—why are you serving under Count Épinay?"

"I was originally from Rosenheim, but after being captured by a raiding party five years ago, I’ve been working as Count Épinay’s stable keeper ever since! I didn’t want to work under a French bastard, but what wouldn’t you do to survive?"

A civilian, not a soldier, captured and reduced to a serf or mine slave with no other options. At least if you had useful skills, the treatment was better. But how well did this stable keeper manage horses for Count Épinay to entrust his own horse to him?

The count wouldn’t entrust such a fine, beautiful horse to just anyone.

Whoosh!

"Run! Get out of here!"

"Dammit, we’re all done for!"

Thanks to the arsonists from Beren doing an excellent job setting fires everywhere, more than half the supply base was ablaze. The whole world was a sea of flames. We couldn’t linger any longer.

I held my cavalry sword to the stable keeper’s throat.

"Choose. Go back to your hometown, or burn to death here."

"Sir Knight, can I really go back to my hometown?"

"I have soldiers from Rosenheim under my command. When they’re discharged after the war ends, you can go back with them. I’ll treat you as a returnee, not a prisoner."

"Oh, thank you! Mont Blanc is yours now, Sir Knight!"

Wanting to go home, the stable keeper latched onto me immediately. Captured by a raiding party and forced to manage horses for a French noble he never wanted to serve—how much must he have missed home? The stable keeper skillfully calmed the beautiful white horse called Mont Blanc.

"I’ll lead Mont Blanc and follow behind."

"You’re not planning to run back to Count Épinay, are you?"

"I’ll never go back to that damned Frenchman! Please believe me!"

As if the very suggestion were an insult, he denied it vehemently. I’d already confirmed through the Manager Scouter that he was telling the truth. And his disposition was compliant (good). In other words, he could attach himself to either side, but since he leaned toward the good side, he wouldn’t commit betrayal.

The stable keeper mounted another horse and led Mont Blanc.

His skill at calming and safely leading the fierce-tempered horse was clearly no joke. Perhaps the count had specifically appointed him as stable keeper because he was the only one who could handle Mont Blanc.

"Stay close—charge!"

With the stable keeper’s cooperation, I easily secured Mont Blanc plus twelve more horses and got out, leaving the Burgundian supply base turning to ash behind us. The light cavalrymen grabbed most of the horses from the supply base on their way out—mostly sturdy pack horses.

"Wahaha! Let those French idiots starve!"

"Oh, mighty Duke the Bold! How do you like the taste of Alemannic fire!"

The guerrilla warfare wasn’t completely over, but we’d burned two supply bases—absolutely incredible results. The light cavalrymen had initially felt bad about the burning supplies, but now they were singing and celebrating victory. Unlike the first one, this supply base had yielded no important information.

But I’d claimed Count Épinay’s horse instead.