This Kingdom Needs a Coup

“No way, this can’t be happening.”

Girolamo Marchesio, the commander of the rescue force sent by the Setnil Holy Kingdom and the leader of the Holy Kingdom’s 2nd Knight Order, couldn’t hide his shock.

“Are we really being pushed back like this? Us, one of the Holy Kingdom’s finest elites?”

The selection of the rescue force had been meticulously chosen and reviewed. The best members of the knight order were selected, and both the commander and vice-commander had participated in the formation. Although the force numbered only about a thousand, they were confident that their combat strength could rival that of a full regiment (around 3,000).

But now…

Girolamo’s brave subordinates and reliable comrades were being utterly crushed. By an enemy force that was no larger than a single battalion.

“Why, why are you all like this! Pick up your weapons! Counterattack! Shoot your guns, thrust your spears!!”

“It’s impossible, Commander! The Royal Army soldiers are too strong! They’re sweeping through our ranks before we can even react! How are we supposed to deal with this?!”

“You’re knights! Why are you being overpowered by mere cavalry in a strength contest?!”

Why was this happening?

Was it because their equipment was too poor? They had disguised themselves as mercenaries from Kailas, wearing shabby gear.

No. That was a contributing factor, but not the core issue.

The knights of the Setnil Holy Kingdom were all elites with at least five years of training. They could use magic, and many were veterans with real combat experience. They had overcome the fear of killing through bandit suppression and heretic purges.

Even if their weapons were subpar, with a numerical advantage of more than double, they shouldn’t be getting beaten this badly.

‘We lost the initiative, so I expected our initial momentum to falter. But this is just too much…’

Girolamo clicked his tongue in frustration. If there was no serious issue with his own forces, the conclusion was clear.

‘They’re monsters.’

It wasn’t that they were weak. The enemy was just too strong.

Their strength, which was more than sufficient by the Holy Kingdom’s standards, was no match for the enemy.

“Give us orders, Commander! What should we do?!”

“Scatter! Spread out to the left and right! Trying to maintain control is pointless. Break into squads and regroup!”

“Where to? Tell us the location!”

“To the enemy’s rear! If we gather behind that city, they’ll have a hard time changing direction suddenly!”

Was this a cowardly excuse?

Of course, it could be seen that way. But what else could they do?

How else could they explain being crushed by these insane bastards who could wipe out twice their number of the same type of troops?

This was beyond their control. They had done their best within their own ‘common sense,’ but they had encountered an enemy that surpassed that ‘common sense.’ There was no chance of winning.

“Damn it! They’re scattering and chasing us individually! What kind of insane maneuver is this?! Charging and then scattering to reverse direction?!”

“This is cheating!!”

So, how did such a staggering gap in combat power come about?

Ten years ago, it wasn’t like this. How had the Royal Army become so strong in such a short time?

As Girolamo fled from the relentless pursuit of the Royal Army, who executed high-difficulty mobile tactics, an old memory surfaced.

It was a conversation he had with the commander of the 3rd Knight Order not long after the war between the Kingdom and the Empire broke out.

‘Hey, heard the news?’

‘What news?’

‘Recently, mercenaries from all over the continent flocked to the Kingdom and the Allied Empire. They said there was a big opportunity.’

‘Ah, that’s right. Thanks to that, the number of idiots waving swords on the streets has decreased. The bishop was pleased.’

‘Really? That’s too bad. I was going to tell you that those who went there are coming back.’

During the time when the two major powers of the continent were in full-scale war, mercenaries who had been steadily employed suddenly started returning home or relocating en masse.

While it was common for mercenaries to break contracts due to personal reasons or financial issues, the scale was unusually large. Tens of thousands had left both countries.

‘Why did that happen?’

‘How should I know? But I heard rumors… that the local headquarters of the Empire and the Kingdom had expelled them all. They said keeping useless freeloaders around was just a burden.’

‘That’s strange. For soldiers in desperate times to say mercenaries are useless.’

‘Exactly. Did they all take some kind of drug?’

At the time, he thought it was just another strange event and moved on… but now he understood the reason.

They hadn’t gone mad and expelled the mercenaries. They genuinely didn’t see the value in paying for them.

“It was the Snowy Plains. The demons were forged in the Snowy Plains.”

The frontlines of the Snowy Plains, so harsh that even the distant Holy Kingdom heard of their brutality.

Fighting daily in such extreme conditions had caused the quality of both sides’ regular armies to skyrocket. Mercenaries fighting for pay couldn’t keep up with the operational pace.

Soldiers tempered over ten years had staged a coup, seized power, and became the capital’s garrison.

And now, they had been dispatched here and clashed with Girolamo’s forces. A group of arrogant nobles who knew nothing.

“We shouldn’t have engaged head-on. We should have hidden and launched a night raid. If we had used a different strategy instead of a full-frontal assault, there might have been a glimmer of hope!”

Having a bit of combat experience didn’t mean they were in a position to be overconfident. What good were minor skirmishes or suppression missions?

Compared to those who fought for survival every day, moving between camps and battlefields, it was child’s play!

Girolamo screamed in despair. He lamented his foolish decisions that had led to the deaths of his subordinates and despaired at the lack of a way to overcome this situation.

‘The mission is a failure. Focus on surviving and getting back. Abandon the king and save as many lives as possible.’

But he couldn’t just despair. He had to save lives somehow. He couldn’t leave his subordinates to die in this distant land.

“Vice-Commander! Turn to 8 o’clock—”

“Commander! Behind you!”

Just as he was about to give orders to the vice-commander for a full retreat, a subordinate screamed.

In that moment, Girolamo realized a figure wielding a saber in both hands was approaching from behind.

“Ah.”

“I’ve got the enemy commander’s head!!”

–Slash!

His head was severed, and his body fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt. That was the last sight Girolamo saw in his life.

* * * * *

And a few days later.

“…So, there was an attack after all, but you managed to handle it well and even captured prisoners before returning?”

“Yes, sir!”

I rubbed my head in frustration at the confident subordinate who was excitedly recounting his exploits as soon as he returned.

Damn it, now even the Holy Kingdom is getting involved? I’m already struggling to prepare for the peace treaty with the Empire, and now these uninvited guests keep showing up.

“…Alright, I get it. You’ve worked hard, so go rest. I’ll arrange for your rewards soon.”

“Yes, sir!”

The rewards for the battalion commander and his men, who risked their lives to prevent Karl VII’s escape, would be handled with promotions and bonuses soon.

After sending the subordinate out of the office, I opened the window. Sitting on the sofa with a cigarette in my mouth, Kamilla lit it for me.

“This is driving me crazy. In so many ways.”

“I agree. I suspected other forces might be involved in the sudden escape, but I never thought it would actually happen…”

How should I describe this feeling? Relieved but also pissed off?

I already knew Karl VII was a hopeless idiot.

So, it made sense that he would rack up a mountain of sins and then flee, or secretly exchange letters to go to another country.

But I didn’t expect him to outright ask foreign troops to enter our country. I anticipated external intervention in such a major incident.

But understanding and accepting it doesn’t align with my emotions.

Even though I understand it logically, emotionally, I want to beat that lunatic to death right now.

“The Holy Kingdom won’t admit to this, will they?”

“Of course not. What country would openly admit to interfering in another nation’s internal affairs?”

Even if we interrogated the prisoners and got their testimonies, the Holy Kingdom wouldn’t acknowledge it.

They’d just call it the actions of lunatics and cut ties.

A so-called moral religious state acting no different from secular nations. Typical.

If only we had some physical evidence, we could use it as leverage, but there’s nothing substantial. The queen burned all the letters from the Holy Kingdom.

“We can’t just let this slide…”

But without solid evidence, we can’t just let this go.

If we take a hit, we must retaliate.

If we let this slide quietly, they’ll keep bothering us in the future. They’ll keep harassing us to extract concessions, citing the king’s treatment or the goddess’s rights.

‘Crushing them outright would be the easiest.’

The easiest way would be war.

The Holy Kingdom’s military is weak compared to its size. They haven’t fought a proper war in decades, so our central army with some auxiliary forces could easily defeat them.

We could probably wrap up the Kailas Kingdom within half a year and plant our flag in their capital.

But just because it’s possible doesn’t mean we can actually do it. Because of the power of their religion.

‘If we touch the Holy Emperor’s decree, we’ll be excommunicated.’

The Goddess Faith, believed by over 70% of the continent’s population.

In this era of strong religious influence, being declared a heretic has a powerful impact. Even if not as much as in the past, it would cause significant political and diplomatic issues.

The common people wouldn’t want to attack the residence of the goddess’s representative.

“This is annoying.”

I let out a deep sigh and exhaled smoke.

“Is there any plausible justification to persuade the people and bring religious legitimacy to our side?”

* * * * *

…I had no idea back then.

That such a justification would walk right into our hands.

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