Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 60

As the chronicler, I record this.

Faust von Polydoro delivered the entire speech at the top of his lungs.

I have recorded every single word, without omission, in the hope that it may serve future generations.

To be honest.

I find it hard to believe, as Lord Polydoro suggests, that a nomadic nation will attack us within the next seven years..

I believe the first words of Queen Liesenlotte are all there is to it.

However.

However, Lord Polydoro thinks otherwise.

“Attention! Open your eyes, and observe keenly!!”

Walking to the exact center of the Queen’s chamber.

Though he was merely a lord with a mere 300 vassals, he raised his voice towards the  marchionesses, who command thousands.

As if forbidding even a single blink.

“I have no intention of preaching sisterly love like the Mother of the Church, nor do I wish to spout niceties about unity and cooperation. My aim is not to request the surrender of your military authority as a gesture of loyalty to the Kingdom of Anhalt. Instead, I assert that we must ready ourselves for the looming threat and unite our destinies with that of the nation.”

His tone was calm, mirroring that of the Mother of the Church.

He commenced his speech quietly, with a certainty as if his predictions were inevitable.

“As it stands, our defeat is certain; there’s not a sliver of chance for victory. If espionage is of no use, and no one knows of their existence, then let me explain. Just imagine. Even now, the light cavalry armed with women, bows, and horses tormenting our northern vassals, imagine tens of thousands of them charging into battle. This horde with a superhuman commander, and even if one or two commanders fall, the next in command immediately takes over the strategy. Tactics like decapitation strikes that worked in the Virendorf campaign, targeting enemy commanders, will not work. There will not be a fluke victory through a heavy cavalry charge at the enemy commander. Ah, and naturally, they would not engage in single combat. Such a culture does not exist among nomadic peoples.”

Here, Lord Polydoro momentarily fell silent.

As if leaving it to the imagination of the lord knights, he paused.

Indeed, that might have been his intention.

Some among the clergy nobility foolishly despise Lord Polydoro solely for his appearance.

Yet, every lord knight acknowledges Lord Polydoro’s military and diplomatic achievements.

So, as Lord Polydoro says, if the nomadic people, barely reaching a thousand in number, are indeed positioning a regular army in our northern territories.

Several lord knights frowned at the thought.

“To be clear, Toktoa Khan is Abaddon—the fifth of the seven calamities of the Apocalypse!”

Breaking the silence.

Lord Polydoro, abandoning his previously calm demeanor like the Mother, shouted passionately.

“When the fifth angel blew his trumpet, I saw a star fall from heaven to earth! And she was given the key to the shaft of the bottomless pit!! They are coming!! A group of light cavalry armed with women, bows, and horses, leading violence, destruction, looting, and massacre. Among us, as lord knights, some may think it ‘reasonable’ to simply submit to the ‘new rulers.'”

Glancing at Queen Liesenlotte for a moment.

Lord Polydoro continued his speech, even with a smile.

“Indeed, some lord knights may hold ‘healthy views.’ But their trampling and plundering exceed our imagination. For nomadic cavalry nations, an expedition is nothing but plunder. They burn and loot everything, including men among the vassals, possessions, cities, everything! To surrender to the nomads means to be robbed of everything, and yet betraying Queen Liesenlotte for them means, after being used to the fullest for being traitors, you will be killed as untrustworthy!!”

Waving his arm.

With that gesture, all eyes were on him, and fully aware of the attention he was garnering, Lord Polydoro whispered so that everyone could hear.

“Expect nothing.”

His voice sounded truly as if he had merely muttered to himself.

“No matter how confident you are in your future actions as a lord knight, expect nothing from the nomadic nation-state. Our cultures are entirely different. The nomads may have intelligence, but they lack reason; they are a fighting group that has cultivated only looting and massacre as their culture. It’s not just our country at stake. Virendorf and the Holy Gusten Empire are in the same predicament. There’s nowhere left to run. The traditional mutual agreements of military service will no longer suffice. The war we face is, quite simply, a―”

He paused.

Though he lowered his previously raised arm, lacking a desk to slam his fist down upon, it merely sliced through the air. Yet, from Lord Polydoro’s superhuman fist, a tremendous sound appeared to resonate with all present.

“A struggle for survival. It’s not just Anhalt or Virendorf at stake. It’s a battle for the entirety of the Holy Gusten Empire.”

Lord Polydoro raised his lowered hands slightly, opening them as if to bare his heart.

“If things continue as they are, we will be culled. The vast differences between our cultures ensure that the consequences won’t end with just the demise of Queen Liesenlotte and the royal family. The territories of the original feudal lords, us lord knights, will be taken. A new ruling class will replace us. Even if we survive the war, the best we can hope for is to be appointed as tax collectors. The lands and vassals that we have inherited from our ancestors will be completely stripped away from us. This situation is…”

Again, he murmured softly.

Yet, it resonated in the ears of everyone present.

“To a lord knight, this fate is tantamount to death. No, that was an understatement. Allow me to correct myself.”

The words that followed were filled with anger.

“Death, and even more so, a humiliation.”

Silence.

Once more, Lord Polydoro placed a silence.

No lord spoke.

No, they could not.

The overwhelming presence of Lord Polydoro silenced any potential rebuttal.

And fear spread.

Lord Polydoro continued in silence.

No one dared to speak.

Not even the foolish clergy nobility who despised Lord Polydoro to their core.

Not even the wise among the clergy nobility, including myself, who predict that marriage to Lady Valiere will be awarded to Lord Polydoro as a reward for his achievements.

Not even the lord knights who recognize Lord Polydoro as Anhalt’s supreme being for his military genius and diplomatic achievements.

No one could open their mouth.

“Military authority,”

Lord Polydoro spoke again.

“The countermeasure I propose. The only way for the Kingdom of Anhalt to stand against the nomadic nation-states now is through the unification of military authority. There is no other way. The command hierarchy is fragmented. A vassal’s vassal is not a vassal. With such an attitude, against a mass of men, horses, and bows, we will be brutally crushed in an instant. A disorganized army. The only feasible tactic is a cavalry charge by all knights. Such methods will never reach Toktoa Khan.”

His voice was heated.

Though calm, it was intensely passionate.

“Shall I predict the outcome of the battlefield when we fight against Toktoa Khan?”

The breath that escaped Lord Polydoro’s lips seemed to be a mass of heat.

“Against our foolish Anhalt-Virendorf allied forces charging in on horseback. The light cavalry on both wings, feigning a retreat to perform horseback archery, creating what should be called a pseudo-crossfire formation on flat ground.”

A one-sided battle.

“The knights, confused by losing comrades to long-range attacks, are then separated from the rear infantry delayed in charging by light cavalry using smoke screens.”

No one could find the words to speak against Lord Polydoro, who spoke as if he had learned it from a textbook.

“And then Toktoa Khan’s heavy cavalry breaks through the disoriented soldiers, and well, that’s the end. The outcome of the war, let’s see. Perhaps the nomads will lose about 1,000, and we will lose around 10,000. It will be a historic defeat like no other. We will be a laughingstock for future generations. Those reading the history books, without considering our background, will mutter.”

Laughter.

With a sneer, Lord Polydoro spat out.

“What foolish knights. Don’t they know any tactics?”

He closed his eyes.

As if imagining our manner of death on the battlefield, and then―

“I refuse to let that happen. To be ridiculed by those ignorant, I cannot apologize enough to my ancestors.”

Lord Polydoro opened his eyes wide, making a declaration.

“If things remain this way, we will be trampled by the nomadic nation-states, standing no chance, dying in vain as fools.”

He raised his hand.

Covered in a gauntlet with magical sigils engraved down to each finger, roughened by sword and spear calluses, it was the hand of a thoroughly martial soldier.

The heat emanating from Lord Polydoro seemed to set even the air around us ablaze.

“If the lords think my words to be true―”

He took a step.

Just one step, but from his massive frame, it significantly closed the distance to the group of lords.

“For the sake of your vassals, if as a lord knight, you wish to use the remaining time effectively against the coming threat―”

He took another step.

His breath heated, continuing to burn the air of the king’s chamber.

“I implore you to follow the command system I envision. To Queen Liesenlotte, to the royal family, even if only temporarily. Truly, just for a while. Only in the case of opposing the nomads, the nomadic nation-states, I wish for the military authority to be entrusted. Then, and only then,”

From his lips, the conclusion finally emerged.

“Can we defeat the threat of Toktoa Khan.”

The heat spread.

Despite Lord Polydoro closing his eyes and falling silent, as if the speech had concluded, the lord knights and clergy nobility began their discussions among themselves.

The initial argument of Queen Liesenlotte is correct.

From the east of the Silk Road, there’s no way they would venture a western conquest.

The rationale for a western campaign is weak.

Does Lord Polydoro even realize how far that distance is?

How would the Grand Duchy to the east of Virendorf react?

No, what about the countries further east?

How did Lord Polydoro even obtain such information in the first place?

Is our nation’s intelligence really that inferior?

Nonsense, Lord Polydoro has been fed false information by Virendorf.

Such conversations, disadvantageous to Lord Polydoro, ensue amidst the chaos.

Opinions intermingle as the discussion shifts rapidly among participants.

Some nobles, serious-faced, wait for Lord Polydoro’s next statement, but there is none.

Only two steps closer to the assembled nobles, the duchesses and margravines among them do not join the conversation.

They simply stare at Lord Polydoro, who remains silent, just like him.

They have no intention of speaking.

It’s not that they’re doing nothing.

In their minds, they’re mixing Lord Polydoro’s speech with the incoming opinions, deeply contemplating.

“Lord Polydoro is a coward. All he’s ever done is win a victory over Virendorf and broker a peace through his own surrender,” someone said.

It was a lower-ranking clergy noble, whose name was already marked under the “unnecessary” category.

The borderland lord knights, whose lands were saved from the chaos of war by Lord Polydoro’s actions in Virendorf and the subsequent peace negotiations, glared fiercely.

A short-tempered lord knight would have killed her on the spot if this were not in the Queen’s presence and if bearing arms were permitted, so angry were their expressions.

Of course, having my homeland saved by Lord Polydoro, I too felt a surge of anger.

“Shall we pluck that fool from this place?” a subordinate herald officer asked.

Seeing my pen trembling in anger, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Good, noise is necessary. After all, she’ll be gone from the country by the end of the year,” I coldly replied to my subordinate.

A fool remains a fool.

In my report to Queen Liesenlotte later, I’ll make sure she’s erased.

“There’s no need to fear the nomads. Our Kingdom of Anhalt has no enemies,” another “unnecessary” lower-ranking clergy noble declared.

This too provoked fierce glares from the representative military officials of the clergy nobility struggling against the northern nomads and the lord knights tasked with military service.

If it were permissible, she would have been strangled on the spot.

Indeed, fools will be fools.

In conclusion, this gathering was not the stage for such low-level discourse.

The speech I’ve documented of Faust von Polydoro will certainly make history.

Whether he will be remembered as a reckless fool or as the protector of the Kingdom of Anhalt, nay, of the Holy Gusten Empire, is for future generations to decide.

But we are already placed in a situation where we must make that judgment before they do.

If we believe Lord Polydoro’s words, we have only seven years.

And if we do follow Lord Polydoro’s words, we probably won’t be able to defeat the nomadic cavalry nation-states.

No, even if we follow Lord Polydoro’s advice, can we win?

We are cornered.

Now, to Lord Polydoro, who closes his eyes and continues to remain silent in this place.

No, how much turmoil did Lord Polydoro go through before delivering his speech today?

His provocation, which could be called a rampage, has stirred everyone’s hearts, frothed their thoughts, and laid bare everyone’s emotions.

No one can leave this place ignoring Lord Polydoro’s words any longer.

That applies to Queen Liesenlotte, to Anastasia the First Princess, and to Duchess Astarte as well.

Silence.

Even as the Queen’s chamber becomes a battlefield of debate, the three powerhouses of the royal family merely observe without moving.

And then, the marquise, the main among the silent group of nobles, spoke.

“Lord Faust von Polydoro,”

“Yes?”

“If there were a solid foundation, I would have followed your words. But there isn’t, hence you are making this speech. I understand that. Therefore, if nothing happens, if Toktoa Khan does not attack, you do understand what will happen to you?”

Indeed.

Lord Polydoro would have to take responsibility.

The responsibility for if nothing happened.

A quiet silence fell upon the Queen’s chamber.

“It goes without saying. And I am not so foolish as to trouble the executioner with that conclusion,” Lord Polydoro said, in a gaze that lay between madness and calm.

He muttered quietly, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

Then, the priest standing beside Lord Polydoro, with a somewhat uneasy expression, looked at him in astonishment, as if thinking, “Could it be?”

“Priest, I would like to request a Geas now. I wish to make a vow to God,” Lord Polydoro declared.

My entire body bristled.

Lord Faust von Polydoro intended to take a knight’s taboo, a death vow, from the very beginning in this place, and I realized that for the first time.