Chapter 171 - 157: Beastman Wolf Cavalry
Chapter 171: Chapter 157: Beastman Wolf Cavalry
Across the plains, the Beastman camp stretched to the horizon, seemingly without end.
For anyone unaware of the war on the front lines, it would be hard to believe that a Beastman army of this size was camped within the military buffer zone established by the Frank Kingdom.
Unlike the other Beastman generals discussing tactics in their tents, General Curry had a habit of finding a high vantage point late at night to survey the surrounding terrain.
"General? You’re here?"
General Curry was on a nearby hilltop, observing the local terrain. A competent commander needed a thorough understanding of the surrounding topography.
Of course, there wasn’t actually much to study. To maintain their marching speed, they had stuck to the plains. The hill General Curry had chosen was likely the only large rise in the area.
"General, what are you doing up here?" Kuma asked, looking at General Curry in confusion.
The Beastman Royal Family had never lacked fierce warriors, but General Curry was one of the very best among them.
Great figures often have peculiar habits, and General Curry was no exception. The entire Purple Blood Beastman Clan knew that the general loved to gaze at the moon.
Rumor had it that this was the result of an ancestral awakening in his bloodline; his forebears were said to be from the line of wolf-blooded Beastmen who once dominated the continent.
Of course, those were just legends. By any timeline, that would have been at least five thousand years ago.
The once-glorious Beastmen of the continent had long ago been suppressed and scattered by the Elves, Trolls, and the Sea Race.
Today, the largest surviving faction was the Beastman Imperial Family of the Beastman Empire—the Purple-blooded Beastmen. The origin of their name was simple: their blood was purple.
"Kuma, don’t you feel that something is different here?" General Curry said, casually grabbing a handful of green grass.
"You’d never find grass this rich and green on the Beastman Grassland."
Kuma knew General Curry was at it again. Though ’at it’ wasn’t quite the right way to put it.
The Beastman Royal Family was also divided into several factions, though the lines weren’t as clear as the north-south divide in the Frank Kingdom.
The current Beastman Imperial Family was no longer descended from Emperor Rosa. Emperor Rosa had belonged to the old nobility of the Purple-blooded Beastmen, whose lands had all been on the Frankish Great Plains.
In the beginning, this old guard had been the most ardent supporters of a southern campaign. Unfortunately, the lingering authority of the Elanshiri Empire was still potent, and they couldn’t rebel just because they felt like it.
At the time, the Elanshiri Holy Temple Knight Legion—a full three thousand Extraordinary Knights—was permanently stationed in the Frank Kingdom. The Beastman Empire was no match for such a force.
The old nobility slowly declined, and by the time the Elanshiri Empire collapsed, the Purple-blooded Beastmen were already ruled by a new nobility that had risen from the grasslands. The two factions had their conflicts at first, but over time, they gradually integrated.
Of course, at the highest echelons, differences remained. For instance, the old nobility wore ornate clothing and observed a coming-of-age ceremony involving a sword ritual and an oath. In contrast, the new nobility from the grasslands celebrated their adulthood by hunting a ferocious beast to display their martial prowess.
These were customs the old nobility carried over from an agrarian age.
Of course, most Purple-blooded Beastmen today weren’t so concerned with these complexities. Someone like General Curry, who remained fixated on matters from a thousand years ago, was a rarity.
In Robson’s previous life, Curry would have been called a deranged Purple-blood nationalist.
Most Beastmen had come south for plunder. Even now, with the war at this stage and despite their major breakthroughs on the Western Front, all they wanted was to grab their spoils and go home.
In the last few hundred years, the closest they had ever come to reclaiming their lost lands was thirty years ago.
Unfortunately, the initial, effortless success of the Beastman campaign only served to deepen their despair when they were later crushed by the Human Alliance Army.
"What do you want?" General Curry asked, frowning at Kuma.
"General Griff sent me to summon you to the command tent for a meeting," Kuma said.
"A meeting? I see." General Curry nodded and whistled for his wolf mount.
...
"Curry, you’re here. Our Thunderhawks have discovered something new...
Come and take a look."
When General Curry arrived at the tent, most of the Beastman generals were already gathered, many of them renowned figures.
They had gathered tonight to discuss a matter of critical importance to the Beastman Empire’s southern campaign: the battle for Thermopylae.
To win was to seize the initiative; to lose was to do nothing but watch the humans advance.
General Curry disliked these meetings. To be more precise, he disliked discussing matters with these particular generals. The feeling was mutual; the other Beastman generals weren’t exactly fond of him either.
As mentioned before, General Curry was an obsessive, always harping on about events from a thousand years ago.
Who cared about territorial borders from a thousand years ago? Even the descendants of the old nobility had long since integrated into the current system.
General Curry was an unparalleled military commander, but he was politically blind. No one would support his call to launch a war of unimaginable scale—a war that would bleed the Beastman Empire dry—just to reclaim some ancient homeland.
The Beastman Imperial Family no longer had the ability to wage such a large-scale war. Though they were loath to admit it, their power was in decline.
Conveniently, General Curry had no desire for excessive contact with them either. The Wolf Cavalry held a unique position within the Beastman Empire. Under his command, General Curry had 4,400 regular Wolf Riders and a full 600 Extraordinary Wolf Riders.
"General Curry, take a look," Griff repeated. His relationship with Curry wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either.
Curry glanced at Griff, then picked up the parchment.
"Marching a hundred li a day? Five thousand strong? Is there really an army like that on the Western Front right now?" General Curry raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"One hundred and twenty li, to be precise," General Griff said. "I even suspect they’ve surpassed the limits of ordinary soldiers. They might have a considerable number of Extraordinary Soldiers."
"So, what do you want me to do?" General Curry set the parchment aside and looked at Griff.
Curry despised beating around the bush. If you had something to say, you said it. If there was something to be done, you did it.
This was the very quality Griff valued most in him. Sure, General Curry was always shamelessly boasting about swallowing the entire Frank Kingdom whole and proposing ridiculously risky plans...
...but when it came down to it, Curry was always the first to charge in. Thirty years ago, when Kemal was routed by Louis II’s suicide attack and the intervention of Pope Paul V, it had been General Curry who laid his life on the line to save him.
Originally, General Curry should have been achieving glory on the central front like the other favored Beastman generals.
Unfortunately, the general had such a foul mouth that not even Kemal, the man whose life he’d saved, could tolerate him. In the end, Curry was transferred away from the heart of the action.
It was both a punishment and a form of protection. Everyone knew that operating at the center of power looked glamorous, but it always came at a price.
Thousands of rivals would spend their days and nights probing for your weaknesses. Especially with the Beast Emperor’s authority at a historic low, a man with General Curry’s political ineptitude would never have survived at court.
"Our plan is to have your Wolf Cavalry advance ahead of the main force. You can reach the foot of Thermopylae within two days.
"Destroy that army. We cannot allow them to reach Thermopylae before we do."