The Battle Of Hedal And Modor (1)

Oden’s eyes turned to the plain between Hedal and Modor.

Even if he halted the advance here, Oden would already be remembered as a great hero who fulfilled the suppressed aspirations of the Norger tribe, driven into the mountains.

Behind his feet lay the regions of Arendal, Kunslatten, and Tonheim—lands the Norger tribe had long dreamed of from the mountains.

In autumn, the fertile, vast lands where ripe crops swayed like gold were now the fruits of their conquest.

Here, we must defend these regions and quickly bring everyone down from the mountains to settle!

Some elders, overjoyed by these incredible gains, urged Oden for swift settlement and defensive preparations.

But Oden rejected them outright.

Even if they did so, they would merely hold vast lands backed by mountains, bordering the Eldrig Duchy in Midlenheim and the Fjorland, Bjoern, and Nastrand Duchies in Nordenheim.

For safety, the Fjorland Duchy, still breathing with most of its forces intact, had to be completely eradicated.

Furthermore, their military alliance with the Nastrand Duchy required their borders to connect, ensuring security for at least a while.

If the two divided the Fjorland Duchy and shared a border, the Bjoern and Grandelvald Duchies, trapped inside, would scarcely breathe.

“We must, through a great and glorious battle, completely annihilate Fjorland’s main force so it can never rise again! And as quickly as possible!”

The existence of other duchies was a considerable nuisance to Oden. If any duchy joined the war and struck their flank, their rapid gains could vanish just as quickly.

‘The Bjoern Duchy can muster about 1,500 troops at most…’
Oden scanned the direction of the Bjoern Duchy beyond the mountains.
Fortunately, the Bjoern Duchy was the smallest in Nordenheim, with limited forces and no war preparations, making immediate participation unlikely.

West of the Fjorland Duchy, the peripheral Eldrig and Bitolf Duchies in Midlenheim were almost foreign, with no obligation to join Nordenheim’s territorial wars immediately.

“I will absolutely wipe out Fjorland’s main force in this decisive battle.”

Nodding, a beautiful woman with blonde hair tied back in large, knotted braids approached him.

It was Bryld, leader of over 200 Norger tribe female warriors and Oden’s woman.

“Look, Bryld. That’s the place.”

Oden stood, pointing downward.

That vast plain was the site of the most critical battle for him and the Norger tribe.

Ultimately, unable to resist Seveldrun’s earnest advice, Duke Vegard recalled some troops heading south to prepare for a defensive battle against the Nastrand army, stationing about 1,000 at the Fjorland stronghold.

“With this, we can sufficiently defend against the Nastrand army and buy time. If we focus solely on defense, that force won’t fall easily.”

Before departing for Hedal Castle, Seveldrun reaffirmed the importance of defense to Vegard.

“Enough, I understand! If this castle is truly in danger, your heads will roll first. Without the duchy or the duke, you’re all expendable!”

At those irritable words, Seveldrun quietly bowed his head. For him, tasked with leading the war to victory, Vegard’s stronghold had to hold the Nastrand army for as long as possible. The castle was too cramped for the Heavy Armored Knights and lancers to operate effectively.

“We’ll also station nuns and priests on the walls. Surely, they wouldn’t dare shoot arrows or strike freely then.”

Vegard nodded. Beside him, Guillaume gave an awkward smile.

Seveldrun raised his voice for all to hear.

“If we face them with equal forces, these barbarians are no match for the Heavy Armored Knights, lancers, and guards. We will win. In Hedal, Modor, and this Fjorland stronghold, we just need to hold out.”

“Indeed. Surely, the Papal See will send the Holy Protector Knights and Legion. By now, the Bjoern and Grandelvald Duchies must have grasped the situation.”

But they didn’t know that the messengers and priests sent to the Bjoern and Grandelvald Duchies were all captured and killed by Norger tribesmen lying in wait.

Those sent later with letters detailing the Nastrand Duchy’s invasion couldn’t cross the border either.

All was as Oden had coldly anticipated.

At that moment, a priest hurriedly approached and whispered something to Guillaume.

“Let him in.”

With his permission, the priest turned to fetch someone. Naturally, all eyes followed. Guillaume smiled brightly.

“Father Pitas, sent to the Papal See, has just arrived.”

“Oh, excellent! When will the Holy Protector Knights’ banners arrive?”

As everyone breathed a sigh of relief, an exhausted Pitas, having rushed to and from the Midlenheim Papal See, entered, supported by others.

“Are you alright, Father Pitas?”

“I’m fine, but first…”

“Yes, yes. Speak quickly. When is the march set, and how many are coming?”

All eyes fixed on the priest’s mouth.

The priest glanced around anxiously. It was clear that what he heard from Pope Orshas III at the Papal See wouldn’t bring cheers to those gathered.

“They will send 50 Holy Protector Knights and 150 Legion soldiers to the western border to set up camp and raise the Papal See’s and military banners.”

“And? Is that the vanguard?”

“That is all.”

Two hundred men.

Everyone froze.

Vegard’s face contorted as he glared at Guillaume.

“Did the High Priest properly explain the situation facing the Fjorland Duchy to this priest?”

Guillaume’s face turned bright red. He, too, hadn’t expected such a small reinforcement.

“Of course! But the Nastrand Duchy’s invasion happened after Father Pitas left, so we couldn’t inform them further.”

“What is this situation! This won’t give us an overwhelming advantage!”

At Vegard’s fury, Guillaume sweated profusely. Pitas, unfairly blamed, could only bow his head.

As if to deflect blame, Guillaume shouted at Pitas.

“Tell us exactly what you conveyed! And what the Papal See said!”

Pitas, sweating heavily, explained.

No one spoke until his explanation ended.

After the silence, Seveldrun spoke gravely.

“They don’t see it as a holy war, nor do they grasp how dire the situation is. They also believe the Fjorland Duchy can handle it well enough.”

Vegard sighed. To lift the sunken mood, Seveldrun spoke again in a strong voice, as such an atmosphere could affect overall morale.

“Regardless, the Papal See’s presence as part of the encirclement remains unchanged. The heathens, limited in numbers, won’t advance toward the west where the Papal See is camped. Reinforcements from Bjoern and Grandelvald will take time as well.”

“Then what should we do?”

“If we link the defensive lines at Hedal and Modor with the Papal See’s reinforcements, two of the three sides of the encirclement are complete. We must hold our ground and wait for Bjoern and Grandelvald’s reinforcements. In time, the encirclement will be complete.”

“Nothing changes, then.”

“As I said, with equal numbers, the heathens are no match for the Heavy Armored Knights, lancers, and guards. We hold the line slowly, but we must send messengers to urge the Papal See, Bjoern, and Grandelvald again.”

At that moment, something flashed through Vegard’s mind.

“Then when will the Papal See’s 200 reinforcements arrive at the border?”

“About three days, I’d say.”

“What happened to the bodies of Baron Shetil and Sir Lloyd from Arendal?”

“We’re preparing their funerals.”

“Has that unimaginably cruel cart been removed?”

“It’s stored in a warehouse. It will be burned soon.”

Vegard’s eyes glinted coldly.

“Hang them up again as they were when they arrived at this castle.”

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock, doubting their ears.

As if anticipating their reactions, Vegard sneered at the room and continued his orders.

“And place it at the border pass where the Papal See’s reinforcements will arrive, as if the heathens prepared it to welcome them.”

Seveldrun slammed the table and stood.

“Lord Vegard, they fought valiantly to the end against those barbarians and upheld their faith!”

“Who denies that? I only wish to show the Papal See’s reinforcements that this is indeed a holy war and that a mere 200 could end up like them.”

Seveldrun’s lips trembled. Lloyd was a knight he cherished, and he didn’t want him to suffer such dishonor again.

“Please, do not go that far, Lord Vegard! Even without the Papal See’s direct involvement, we can win in a frontal battle!”

“No, this is to reduce our losses. Don’t forget, even if the encirclement is completed at Hedal and Modor, we’ll face heavy losses retaking our lost territories.”

“……”

“Their funerals will later be so grand that no one will have seen such splendor.”

No one spoke.

As if unwilling to hear more, Vegard stood and left.

“This, this is…”

“It feels like things are getting terribly complicated.”

Before the flustered Olaf and Guillaume, Seveldrun let out a sigh.

Olaf shook his head.

“I never thought it would become such a complicated issue.”

“No, relying solely on our strength versus borrowing others’ is inherently different and demanding. It can’t be helped. The Lord’s mind won’t change, and we have to head to Hedal and Modor now.”

“It might be easier to do it with our own strength. With the right tactics, we could minimize losses and completely annihilate those heathens.”

“Forget it. As I said, just holding out will bring opportunities. As Lord Vegard said, the Papal See will reassess and send more troops, and by then, Bjoern or Grandelvald might respond.”

Seveldrun stood.

“Let’s go to Hedal and Modor Castles. To break their fierce momentum, holding those places is our priority, isn’t it?”

Everyone rose and left the meeting room.

Waiting adjutants bowed and handed helmets and swords to Seveldrun and Olaf.

Behind them, Guillaume and Pitas made the Sign of the Holy Cross, reciting Scripture verses.