Chapter 228: Red Warning

"All forces, advance!"

Count Euz had taken the bulk of his troops and generals with him, but thankfully, one general had been left behind. He was a veteran commander who had fought numerous battles against Burgundy.

The vivid scar on his face was striking.

Fried was thrilled, saying the general looked incredibly formidable.

The general’s name was Bertrand, and he was Italian. In a place as deeply conservative as this, how could an Italian become a German noble’s general? The reason was quite simple.

Italy was the world’s foremost training ground for elite soldiers. Just as Italian mercenaries were considered the best, hiring Italian military officers and placing them in key positions had become a widespread trend.

My father-in-law had several Italians among his men too.

Though I hadn’t been fond of them because of their habit of hitting on every woman in sight.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Following the commanders’ orders, the Euz levies moved in disciplined formation. As promised, Fried had placed his heavily armed personal guard at the front. All I could do was hope they’d hold their ground.

As overall commander, Fried had acknowledged his army’s inexperience and entrusted full command to General Bertrand. That meant I, as commander of the combined cavalry, had to pay special attention to coordination.

I never expected the day would come when I’d fight on the Meriant Plain again. Fried knew his forces were weak and tried his best to keep his face blank, hiding his anxiety.

"I never thought I’d come back here."

Fiel remembered the fierce battle we’d fought on the Meriant Plain. After crushing Count Épinay’s raiding force, we’d pursued the fleeing count and captured him even further north of here.

"I’d love it if this place brought us glory again."

"Ha ha, if that happens, we might as well call this the Plain of Fortune."

The Plain of Fortune. That had a nice ring to it.

I could only hope the Lord would grant us glory once more.

The faces of the Euz levies marching toward the rally point were uniformly tense. One young soldier was even wetting himself as he walked. The veterans tried to comfort him, but could these soldiers really fight well?

Thankfully, a battle-hardened general had stayed behind, so at least they wouldn’t be a complete rabble. Their mission was to hold the line as long as possible until our cavalry struck the heart of the enemy position.

That meant Fried, the overall commander, needed to be a tempting piece of bait. For the Count of Basel, capturing the heir of Euz would be the best possible outcome. That alone would be enough to decide the battle.

"The enemy cavalry is moving to their right flank in a hurry."

"Looks like they’ve finally noticed us."

The Count of Basel realized our cavalry had joined the fight and shifted his cavalry to his right flank to block us on the left. The sudden appearance of around 600 cavalry would naturally come as a shock.

We’d revealed ourselves deliberately to lure the enemy cavalry away from their command post.

Staying hidden and striking from the rear could have yielded sufficient results, but we couldn’t forget that our objective was to capture the Count of Basel alive.

That was why it was critical to pull as many enemy troops away from the command post as possible.

"Commander, the Count of Basel has fewer guards than I expected."

Locating the count wasn’t difficult. The Swiss mercenaries held the center of the enemy formation, and behind them sat the Count of Basel’s command post.

The mountain goat crest of the house that ruled Basel was clearly visible.

I confirmed it definitively through the scouter.

But the strange thing was, as Viktor said, the number of guards was smaller than expected. Of course, it was only the close protection detail that was thin; infantry units presumed to be reserves were arrayed in layers around the perimeter.

Yet one figure among the guards in particular caught my eye.

A guard as massive as my father-in-law.

He had a ridiculously large halberd propped up beside him, was clad head to toe in black plate armor, and his sheer intimidating presence was on a completely different level from that of the other guards. There was no way he wouldn’t stand out.

When I used the scouter to gather more detailed information, I found he was Swiss, and his name was Leto Scharfzurse. As his surname revealed, he was not only a commoner but, of all things, a former executioner.

Scharfrichter meant executioner, and Scharfzurse meant the executioner of Zurse in Switzerland, a commoner’s surname. Could an executioner actually become a mercenary?

I got an extremely ominous feeling from this Swiss mercenary called Leto. There had been only one other time I’d felt this kind of threat from a specific individual. I pointed him out to Viktor and asked.

"Viktor, have you ever seen anyone like that among the Swiss mercenaries?"

"I don’t recognize him, but that black armor and the massive halberd..."

His appearance was distinctive enough to suggest he was definitely someone famous among the Swiss mercenaries. But the identity Viktor came up with far exceeded anything I’d imagined.

Over drinks one time, Viktor had jokingly asked the Swiss mercenaries who the strongest among them was, and they had all pointed to the same man without hesitation.

A giant defined by his halberd and black armor.

Leto Scharfzurse. The one they called the Executioner of Zurse.

My ominous feeling had been dead on. The only person who had ever given me this kind of sensation in my entire life was Günter von Klugen, the Rose Knight. Back then, I’d had too many shortcomings and had struggled badly.

But after winning battle after battle, my confidence had soared, and I thought I’d never feel this way again. Yet every instinct was screaming a fierce warning that I’d be screwed if I fought him unprepared.

"That mercenary might actually be the Executioner of Zurse."

"He does match the descriptions, but I heard he mainly operates in Italy. Why would the most expensive mercenary around get involved in a small war like this?"

"The reason the Count of Basel has so few guards is that he trusts that mercenary to protect him."

I wished it weren’t true either, but the Manager Scouter was confirming the mercenary’s identity with precision, forcing me to face cold reality. I absolutely could not ignore this ominous feeling.

For more accurate information, I finally upgraded the Manager Scouter.

The new function I added was danger assessment. Until now, I’d only used the Manager Scouter’s basic functions. Because they’d been more than enough.

The history function (name, age, affiliation, address) let me gather information on targets, and the status function (health, mindset, disposition, relationships) let me read their thoughts and tendencies to prepare accordingly.

I’d seen through Count Épinay’s surprise attack and Count Baschurten’s betrayal.

And by cross-referencing quest danger ratings and aggregating information, I could predict threats with reasonable accuracy. But in cases like this, I’d been relying almost entirely on instinct.

Relying solely on instinct to gauge an opponent’s strength was extremely dangerous. A third function, danger assessment, was added to the Manager Scouter, which previously had only two. 5,000 points vanished.

My points dropped to 4,520, but after using the new function, I realized the investment was worth every point. Because the scouter was warning me.

[Warning! This enemy is beyond your current capabilities]

The danger scale was divided simply into three levels: green for enemies I could handle, yellow for enemies to be cautious of, and red for enemies beyond my ability.

The Swiss mercenary called Leto was clearly marked red, and the system was sounding the alarm. Didn’t that mean the odds of losing my life were high?

If I’d suppressed this ominous feeling, overestimated my own skill, and charged in recklessly, I might have been slaughtered. This wasn’t a world with save and reload, and getting cleaved by a halberd and sent to the afterlife would have been just a matter of time.

"Viktor, we’re changing the plan."

"What? The battle’s about to start."

I knew it was an unreasonable demand, but if we went in like this, we’d suffer catastrophic losses. When the outcome was that obvious, refusing to change the plan would be foolish.

I wanted to cancel the whole thing, but that was impossible.

What was done was done, and pulling back now would only cause massive confusion among our own troops.

"While Fiel and I keep that mercenary occupied, you take the Count of Basel."

"Commander, is that mercenary really the Executioner of Zurse?"

"Every instinct I have is telling me he’s dangerous."

Viktor had never seen me this wary of an enemy commander before, and it seemed to make him nervous too. Fiel, who’d been silent, questioned whether the enemy was really so strong that we’d need to team up just to handle him.

"He’s huge, sure, but that should make him slow and full of openings, shouldn’t it?"

"Fiel, this time, you absolutely must not engage him alone."

"...Commander, don’t tell me you’re actually nervous?"

[Warning! This enemy is beyond your current capabilities]