“Sometimes in war all you can do is to choose the lesser of two evils. Which of the two is the lesser evil also tends to depend on you as a person.” - Saying attributed to Xaliburnus the Conqueror, First Emperor of the Elmaiya Empire.

“Curse these damned mercenaries!” yelled Marquis Viktor Esvant of Podovniy in his command tent once the latest casualty reports reached him. The mercenary cavalry had harassed his troops endlessly during their march through the Niva Plains, and they took their toll on the soldiers. While none of the cavalry strikes were allowed to get as close as the first one, nearly a thousand soldiers perished, and almost triple that number were injured, often with illness as well, filling the sick wagons to the brim.

Then this latest report showed that they had lost another three hundred or so of their cavalry who went off in pursuit of the enemy cavalry, their commander apparently so incensed that he defied direct orders not to do so. Had the idiot whoreson not perished under the hands of the mercenaries already, the Marquis would have slated him for a public hanging for incompetence and disobedience.

His army was already marching behind schedule due to the repeated attacks, as they forced his army to march slower in order to keep vigilant. To make things worse, the next stretch of road would once again be forested at the sides. That brought back memories of the mostly harmless but utterly infuriating harassment campaign the mercenaries pulled off during the nights before.

Said harassment mostly stopped once they were traversing the plains, likely because there was no cover for the mercenaries to sneak up on them with. The Marquis wasn’t sure he liked the frequent cavalry attacks any better though. The previous harassment, while frustrating and very bothersome, rarely caused casualties amongst his people. The cavalry strikes on the other hand exacted their toll in blood.

That said, morale amongst his troops was visibly decreasing. Many were frustrated with pent-up anger yet having no enemies to lash out at. As a result, cases of brawls and fisticuffs amongst his own soldiers were on the rise. Given how his enemies had operated so far, avoiding direct battles unless it was an ambush where they would be gone by the time his reinforcements arrived, he doubted that there was anything he could do to change that either.

It was like his enemies could see how his forces reacted as soon as they did so and inform their troops accordingly.

“They only made their move against our vanguard, so I have the assumption that these mercenaries are taking care to secure their path of retreat, Sire,” reported Simeon from his side. The old general was all too aware of the headache his liege was having thanks to the mercenaries they were dealing with. “If they were to attack our middle or rear, it would be far riskier as our vanguard could cut off their retreat.”

“So do you believe that they will cease this harassment by cavalry once we hit the forested stretch of road ahead?” asked the Marquis.

“I believe that to be the case, Sire. Their cavalry are highly skilled, but they would be sitting ducks in a forest regardless,” noted Simeon. “It is far more likely that they would resume their previous harassment tactics until we reach Levain. It will likely frustrate the troops, but that anger and frustration could be used to urge them into a rage when we attack the city itself.”

“Probably the best option we have at the moment. These bastards keep making people we send out into the forest disappear, and what few returned said that the forests were trapped to hell and back as it was,” noted the Marquis. “Any recommendation for our approach on this final stretch before we reach Levain itself and can proceed with the siege?”

“I recommend gathering up some conscripts from a place you don’t like and force them to act as the vanguard. They will find the traps for us with their bodies, and since they’re part of the power belonging to someone you wanted gone anyway… you would not be losing much,” replied Simeon nonchalantly. “In fact, you could use this as a demonstration to display your displeasure towards certain people, if framed properly.”

“That’s… a clever suggestion, Simeon. We’ll go with that,” replied the Marquis. “Say, who was the officer in charge of that cavalry detachment that chased after the mercenaries and got themselves butchered for it?”

“That would be… Huh. Talk about a coincidence. That detachment was led by Sir Arno Nvelqist of Horaon, Sire, the second son of Viscount Nvelqist,” replied Simeon with a mildly surprised look on his face. “The rest of Horaon’s contingent, that is their infantry and conscripts, is under the command of Sir Jens Nvelqist, his younger brother.”

“Wait a moment… Isn’t this Jens the same son of a whore who married your dear youngest daughter and then ditched her in favor of some other woman? I remember you complaining to me about it while half-drunk some time ago,” replied the Marquis with some interest and intrigue in his voice. “Do you still have any feelings or obligation towards him?”

“To answer your questions aside, yes, this Jens is the same whoreson who threw away my dear Melinda for some Baron’s bastard daughter, and no, if given the chance I would love to flay him alive and then tie him to a pole like a pennant to fly in front of my troops,” replied Simeon with a hint of anger in his voice. “My poor daughter had yet to recover from the divorce and the only thing stopping me from heading to the Viscount’s house with my personal retainers to slaughter some people is my responsibility and obligation to the march.”

“That’s perfect, then. Have Sir Jens lead his troops to the vanguard. Be sure to impress upon him the importance of his task, and also to let him know that this task is to allow him to recover the honor lost by his brother’s folly,” replied the Marquis with a wide grin on his face. “Have him and his troops lead our march all the way to Levain, at forced march speeds.”