Translator: Cinder Translations
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The news of the Protestant army's defeat at Melbour spread through the Horns Bay like a whirlwind. They were just a step away from reaching Collins City, but they were halted, defeated, and forced to retreat, much like the Church Army had done when they attacked Eaton by bypassing the northern neutral city-states.
The Holy See's formal intervention on behalf of the Church of the Bay once again turned the tide of the war, almost as if it had returned to the time a year ago when the Church Army was on a victorious march.
"The Lord of Light will punish each and every one of you!"
At the Horns Bay Alliance's council meeting, Simons, a councilor who had not been seen for a long time, reappeared.
He was a devout follower of the Lord of Light, but that was not surprising, as most people in this region would claim the same. What set Simons apart was that he belonged to the old sect.
"The Father's will is all-encompassing. His army is slowly marching toward us. Sooner or later, it will purify this land of sin."
"Repent, lost lambs. It is not too late. Let us return to the embrace of the Father's mercy."
Among the coastal nations, there were still many who supported the Church of the Bay. When the Protestant army was in the ascendant, their voices were suppressed. Now that the Protestant army was at a disadvantage, these voices were starting to surface once more.
Among them were influential figures capable of swaying the higher-ups, such as Councilor Simons.
"Shameful words!"
Horas immediately stood up and fiercely criticized Simons.
"This bastard wants us to surrender to the enemy! Surrender? My God, think about the honor of our family names! Would any of us dare to do such a shameful thing?"
"How many wars has the Horns Bay Alliance fought since its founding? Have we ever knelt to the enemy? Now the enemy is the Church, which has chosen to side with our foes."
"We've only lost one battle. The enemy is still far from our borders!"
"Gather the troops, recruit new soldiers, and buy more weapons. The wealth accumulated over centuries by the Alliance is now coming into play! Although spending money is painful, if we win the war, the cost will return to our treasury tenfold, a hundredfold!"
…
Under Horas's stirring words, the entire council became agitated.
"Fight to the end!" "Fight to the death!" "Down with the traitors!"
Various passionate slogans filled the air.
"You are blind! You are guilty! You will not receive God's forgiveness!"
Simons did not give up, continuing to shout, but his voice was drowned out by the pro-war slogans.
"Die, traitor!"
Horas stepped up and landed a heavy punch on Councilor Simons, leaving him with a swollen face.
"Horas, you are a devil sent from hell to deceive people's hearts!" Simons, embarrassed and furious, was about to retaliate when others grabbed him by the sleeve.
At Horas's instigation, those around him took action, delivering punches and kicks to Simons, who was soon beaten black and blue.
The chaos in the hall prompted the guards to rush in and restrain the people.
The battered Simons was quickly escorted out of the meeting room, still shouting defeatist slogans.
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"You were too impulsive, Horas!" In his office, Chairman Marcus scolded Horas with a stern expression.
When the commotion had erupted in the council hall, Marcus had not been present to prevent it.
"Chairman." Horas defended himself, "In this current situation, Simons was spreading defeatist rhetoric, undermining our morale. What I did was too light—he should have been sent to the gallows or placed under the guillotine. Any of those would be fine, just don't let him waste our Alliance's food and water!"
Marcus, with a serious expression, shook his head, saying, "Others may be dealt with that way, but not the members of the council."
The Horns Bay Alliance was governed by a noble oligarchy. Each member of the council was a descendant of the noble families that founded the Alliance, and there had been no additions or reductions in this council for many years.
The nobles in the council enjoyed various privileges, both economically and politically. Among these privileges was an exemption from the death penalty—no matter how grave the crime, the worst punishment for a council member was simply the loss of their seat. Then, another member of their family would be selected to fill the vacancy.
Of course, a member who lost their seat and later committed further offenses could face harsher penalties.
For generations, council members had maintained this system, which had prevented the Alliance's internal political struggles from becoming as bloody and chaotic as those in other nations. This stability laid the foundation for a thriving commercial environment and allowed the Horns Bay Alliance to enjoy prosperity for over a century.
Marcus was about to continue reprimanding Horas when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in!"
It was Councilor Joe Foster.
His first words upon entering were, "Thanks to the Lord of Light, according to the latest news, our troops have managed to hold their ground at Goen for now."
Marcus sighed in relief. Foster was referring to the front-line troops. In recent days, the Alliance's army had been retreating continuously, with each new report showing their retreat. Now, at least they had managed to stop the enemy's advance.
"But it is only temporary. The Church Army may be taking a short rest, which is why they haven't pushed forward."
Foster's next words made it clear that the situation was still dire.
"Let them focus on organizing defenses. If Goen is not suitable for a defensive stand, we may need to withdraw a little further and find a better location. But whatever we do, we cannot let the Church Army enter the Alliance's territory."
"By the way, how is your son? Is he alright?"
"Oh, thank God, the boy is fine."
Marcus, still deeply worried, had lost the mood to continue reprimanding Horas.
He invited both men to sit down and discuss strategies for dealing with the current situation.
After a series of retreats, the army had suffered heavy losses, and recruiting new soldiers was now a top priority.
Foster, the Marquis, looked troubled as he said, "Our manpower is still sufficient. Recruiting a new batch of soldiers shouldn't be a problem, but in terms of military supplies—weaponry, armor, and the like—the losses are great. With the Alliance's current production capabilities, we won't be able to replace everything."
"Oh, in that case, we'll need to make another trip to the Northwest Bay. As Horas said, it's time to use the wealth accumulated by the Horns Bay Alliance over the past century."
"Alright, I'll send someone to make another trip. I'm sure that Earl will be pleased."
Foster sighed in resignation.
(End of the Chapter)
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