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Jahrdrung-24-Pflugzeit-28-2492

"It seems easy when you do it," said Karl Franz, watching me as I settled into the empty throne of the Lord of Gisoreux—who was absent, serving at his king's side in the Bretonnian army.

"I know," I replied with a smile. "I'm just that good at strategy… and because I know how the Bretonnians think. It isn't hard to get into the heads of those knights: everything in their vows revolves around protecting the lands granted to them. It was obvious that, once the chance arose, they would rush to defend the duchy, leaving this place nearly stripped of defenses. Of course, there were still many Grail Knights and Damsels… but luckily, that tremor shattered the walls and set the city aflame."

"Lucky," the Imperial Prince muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Luck is a commander's best tool," I answered calmly. "If you don't have it, you'll lose every battle where victory isn't certain. So yes, that makes me a better general than the rest." I leaned back further in the duke's throne, enjoying the comfort of the seat.

"Well then, General, what now? We have the Emperor's objectives, but this campaign was expected to last a year or more… and we conquered these Bretonnian territories in barely a month."

"It depends on where you want to strike," I replied, rising and spreading out some captured maps. "We have the entire river course to harass them. If we start building bridges and force them to split their forces, we could crush them one by one as we advance. Not a bad idea—but it depends more on the Emperor's will than mine."

Karl Franz bent over the maps, speaking seriously. "It would be better to stop here. We don't want a coalition forming against the Empire simply because we're conquering more than we can hold. Controlling these lands will already be hard without peace with Bretonnia, so it's wiser to open diplomatic channels and negotiate a lasting agreement."

"They'll be hard to convince," I admitted. "But let's hope you can work your magic with words. If something needs crushing, just tell me and I'll do it. I can do almost anything… except face the Bretonnians in open battle. That would be suicide. With so many sorceresses, winning under those conditions would be near impossible."

"Just make sure the walls of Gisoreux are rebuilt," the prince countered, "so we can use them as defense against a Bretonnian host. I'll try to get our diplomats to prepare the way toward peace. But for now, I want to discuss your reward for this campaign… and I expect the next step to be another victory—this time against the greenskins and in the hunt for the necromancer." He rose and took a seat in another chair in the hall.

"I'm all ears," I said with a grin. "It's never a bad thing to be rewarded for being very skilled in war. And I do hope it's one of the good rewards. But obviously, that will come when everything's finished. I can get some dawi who know methods to destroy greenskin spores, to prevent them from reappearing the following year. If you want, I can request them. That would make the campaign against them far more effective."

"That will be very necessary," replied the prince, "but I also want your opinion on who should hold these Bretonnian lands—or any we secure in a future peace treaty. Your preference could easily be taken into account."

"Come now, Franzi… do you think I'm fool enough to ask you to hand me these lands?" I laughed openly. "I'd have to spend a colossal fortune just to guard the frontier against Bretonnians and possible greenskin incursions. To defend the border properly, I'd need thirty thousand men mobilized at all times, garrisoning ducal castles and watching the river. And given my population, my lands are underpopulated as it is—I need workers, not more soldiers tied down to garrisons. If not for my master of agriculture, I'd likely have trouble with the harvest after mobilizing so many of my peasants."

"So that's why you're taking all the Bretonnian prisoners as your property…" Karl Franz looked at me with clear disapproval.

"Of course," I replied without hesitation. "Bretonnians are hardworking, loyal, and adaptable. They have everything a good worker needs. I need hands—many hands—tilling the land tirelessly to secure the biggest and best harvests, while still raising an army for defense. Because I'm expecting the Norscans to pay us a visit. And Marienburg's navy is… less than reliable; the sailors of the republic can't be trusted. So I'll have to put my own men on ships… and for now, it isn't going well." I stretched my arms as if it were just another minor nuisance in my long list of problems.

"Then who do you recommend to hold the position of protector of the Bretonnian frontier? Someone must take it to defend it properly," said the prince, crossing his arms as he studied me.

"I already told you," I answered. "The ideal would be to integrate these lands directly into the Emperor's domain. The nobles who took part could be rewarded with money, not titles. By keeping direct control of the resources, you'd secure the gold mines of Montfort, the fertile lands of Parravon and Gisoreux… and little else here is truly worth much. You could leave administration to minor nobles or sell exploitation rights, but ultimate authority should remain with a Reiksguard general, under military governance. That would increase your father's power within the Empire, and if you also grant the Elector title to the administrator you choose, you'd have an Elector appointed by your hand alone—one who owes loyalty solely to the Emperor."

Karl Franz sighed, furrowing his brow. "It's tempting, but we can't. Too many nobles would protest. Too many men died in this campaign, and we can't send them home empty-handed. Most expect lands here in Bretonnia for their second sons, to establish cadet branches of their houses, or at least some domain they can claim as their own."

I looked at him sternly. "If you keep thinking that way, you'll never unify the Empire under a single Emperor. If you only dedicate yourself to pleasing the Elector Counts, they'll go on ruling while the Emperor juggles to maintain the appearance of authority. This is your chance to prove who truly commands the Empire: the Emperor… or the Electors."

Karl Franz let out a snort, reclining in his seat. "I'll take it into consideration. But what you propose is difficult. If we do that, we might lose all the support we've gained among the Electors. Right now, the Empire is at the height of its strength: all the provinces are working together in the war. To risk that for a few lands with barely any peasants… I don't know if it's worth it."

"Believe me, it will be. The Emperor's authority must be stronger than that of the Electors," I replied, rising from my chair and putting away the maps.

"Very well, back to our earlier conversation… what is it you want as a reward for this campaign? So I can take it into account when I speak to my father," the prince asked with genuine interest, rising and walking toward me.

"I don't need more lands; I need population to settle the ones I already hold. So I want another colonization permit—but not of land, of gold. Permits to recruit state regiments about to be disbanded… and all the Bretonnian peasants from the captured territories. I understand that Parravon has a large peasant population, ready to be moved into my domains before the plowing season begins. That way, I'll be able to work the lands we recovered from the marshes," I answered at once.

"Are you certain of this? You only want peasants for your lands? You'd be moving hundreds of thousands of people into your domains," the prince said, eyeing me with suspicion.

"And even so, they'd remain underpopulated," I replied, folding my arms. "I have more land than I have hands to work it. That is what matters most right now."

"I see," Karl Franz muttered, rubbing his thumb across his forehead. "Let's see what comes of it for now."

The following days were quiet—too quiet. We only busied ourselves with taking the castles of Gisoreux that still held out for the Bretonnian king. We took our time crushing those small fortresses while the rest of the army reorganized.

Several days later, we finally saw the Bretonnian host. They had reached the river, seeking a way to cross into Gisoreux, only to realize the bridges were destroyed and there was no quick way to pass into the new Imperial frontier without exposing themselves. To cross, they would have to risk the currents or search for a shallow ford.

So we remained, face to face, in a contest of stares. Every day the same: they on the far bank, we repairing walls, moving Bretonnian peasants into my territories, and keeping the garrisons alert. There was one attempt in the north, where the river was shallower; a group of knights tried to cross, but we met them with a volley of muskets that kept them from setting a single foot on solid ground.

The month dragged slowly. We weren't idle, but neither did we fight any great battles. My routine was reduced to watching the river, coordinating garrisons with the nobles… and scaring them from time to time when they whispered too loudly about poisoning me.

At last, a ceasefire was negotiated. Imperial diplomats managed to reach the new Bretonnian king and arrange the end of the war. They spoke of restoring friendly relations—or something resembling it—after so much blood had been spilled on both sides.

Though I was present at the negotiations, my role was more ornamental than real. I had little understanding of what the diplomats and the prince were doing with their endless discussions that led nowhere, only to resume the next day with the same words and conditions. Day after day I had to sit and watch them repeat the same game, agreements collapsing again and again, only to be revived with the very same arguments.

At least the direction of the talks always favored the Empire. The goal was clear: consolidate total control over Bretonnian territory. The envoys of the new king tried to impose demands: that we return some lands, that we allow the people of Quenelles—an emptied city, stripped bare by our nobles—to return.

But we all knew that was a desperate attempt to salvage what little they had left. The Bretonnian army could still fight, yes, but their resources and morale were broken. And worse for them, they knew more Imperial reinforcements were coming soon. Under that shadow, their negotiators began to accept increasingly humiliating terms: no new incursions against our borders, recognition of the Imperial right to maintain garrisons in key fortresses, and even permission to create state institutions similar to our Witch Hunters, tasked with purging the corruption that rotted their nobility.

That had been the true casus belli of the war: the high corruption of Chaos and the vampiric influence spreading through Bretonnia. It was that poison which had moved the Imperial army in the first place, and so it was only logical that it became the hardest condition to impose in the negotiations.

For endless days, the Bretonnian diplomats tried everything to avoid the issue, deflecting the conversation, delaying agreements, repeating the same arguments over and over. It was clear that accepting such a condition would be a humiliation to them: to admit they could not cleanse their own lands and needed outside help to do it.

But in the end, after many tedious days of dull repetition, the agreement was made. Bretonnia officially ceded three duchies to the Empire, recognized the Imperial conquest as legitimate, and committed to establishing its own order, similar to our Witch Hunters, to eradicate vampiric and Chaotic corruption within their borders.

I was content. I had obtained what I wanted: a vast influx of new laborers for my lands. That guaranteed harvests, production, and the ability to continue raising an even greater army. Yet still, I could not return home.

Duty compelled me to keep marching: first against the greenskins, then against the necromancer, and later into the lands of the dawi. So even though this campaign was done, much remained ahead—too much blood to shed, too many enemies to crush—before I could rest.

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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