Chapter 131 131: The Generalship - Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder - NovelsTime

Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

Chapter 131 131: The Generalship

Author: Chill_ean_GUY
updatedAt: 2025-09-02

If we reach 25 comments, . You have five hours from the time this chapter is posted. If we reach the goal, the next chapter will be posted in eight hours.(Valid comments must include information about what you like or dislike about the story, what you would like to see about the story, or any questions you may have about the story, as the devil is in the details.)

-----------------------------

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.

-------------------------------

Nachhexen-10-2492

There were banners everywhere—too many, I would say—of noble houses from all across the Empire. It seemed Luitpold had achieved something almost unthinkable in these times, when the Empire faced a war. Yet here we were, with nearly forty thousand men from every province, and just as many reinforcements expected in the coming months.

Luitpold had summoned all the Imperial troops a year in advance, just as he had proclaimed that day at the banquet when he spoke of uniting the armies of all provinces. Though it seemed his true intent was to catch the Bretonnians off guard.

All signs indicated that the Bretonnians had made a near-desperate attempt to reclaim Montfort, to prevent the Imperial army from securing a firm foothold in Bretonnian territory. But they had failed. They besieged the fortress for weeks, until snow forced them to withdraw. With so many peasants conscripted, their harvests had suffered, and with supplies running low, they could not sustain a winter campaign. On our side, however, it was not so calm: a necromancer attacked a Bretonnian village occupied by Imperial forces, but with the aid of the Wood Elves we managed to drive him back—along with beastmen wielding strange weapons that must have been Skaven.

Meanwhile, Reikland's harvests had been the most abundant in years. Even compared to the previous one, already abundant, this year's had increased by more than thirty percent. A record harvest that once again swelled our reserves of food.

Almost all that surplus would surely be consumed by the campaign, since I myself had mobilized fifteen thousand men, and with nearly ten thousand guards still under my command, I had close to ten percent of my population under arms. Something unsustainable, if not for the record harvests and high employment rates in my lands.

In recent months, birth rates continued to rise, which was a problem, since children represented nothing but expense until the age of fourteen, when they could finally contribute value. Fortunately, the cost of keeping them was not an issue for the moment.

Regardless, I had recruited heavily in recent months, thanks to the gold from Marienburg. I had spent all that plunder repairing the city, demolishing useless sections and expanding its infrastructure, so that Marienburg would become a true Imperial port rather than a mercenary haven. This brought me enormous monthly income, charging rents and taxes from merchants who came to trade. And I still had the advantage of paying no tribute to Luitpold.

In addition, I now sold arms and powder to the very Count of Reikland, ensuring that it was the priests of Sigmar who handled the smokeless powder, so that no Gold Wizard might attempt to unravel its production. Realistically, I doubted they could produce anything anyway, unless they spent years attempting to manufacture nitric acid—and even then, likely to blow their own faces off when trying to nitrate the cellulose.

But I had a well-trained army. For months I had drilled both new recruits and veterans from my past campaigns, all eager to test themselves in Bretonnia. And most importantly: they were all equipped with the new flintlock muskets, having practiced pike and halberd formations time and again, ready to repel Bretonnian cavalry.

In recent months, together with Hieronymus, I had been conducting all manner of magical experiments, trying to increase my affinity with Chamon—above all, to control my attraction to the Winds without depending on the elven amulet. By using my Sigmarite amulets, I could test how much I had improved without the elven artifact, discovering to my surprise that even without it I could slip unnoticed past one of the best magical detection amulets in the Sigmarite cult's possession. Something incredible, considering I could even cast minor spells of low energy without triggering the amulet. Major spells, of course, still revealed me immediately.

When wearing the amulet, however, I could use mid-level spells capable of killing several people at once without the detection artifact exposing me. A vital advantage for the future.

But my greatest progress—and what even left Hieronymus bewildered at the creativity of my approach—was learning to control blood, both mine and that of others, manipulating the iron within it through Chamon. With my own it was easier; with others, incredibly difficult. Yet I discovered I could close wounds, stop bleeding, even block arteries to cause death—though so far only in theory; Bretonnia would provide the testing ground. Most recently, I had developed the ability to sense people through their blood: the more I practiced, the stronger the signal became, to the point where I could, with eyes closed, perceive the flow of blood moving within a body.

Even so, in the military camp we awaited the arrival of all the important figures for this grand campaign. Chief among them was the Imperial Prince Karl Franz, who I had been told would come to join the expedition.

One day, as preparations for the campaign were underway, a detachment of the Reiksguard arrived escorting the Prince, who rode an Imperial warhorse. All the high nobility gathered together to receive him. In his hands he carried a great parchment.

"In the name of my father, the Chosen of Sigmar, Emperor Luitpold von Holswig-Schliestein, Elector Count of Reikland, Prince of Altdorf, I thank all those present for answering the call to arms of the Empire for this campaign," said the Prince, opening the parchment and beginning to read.

"By order of the Chosen of Sigmar himself, the leadership of this army and of all Imperial armies in Bretonnia is granted to the Elector Count of the Westerlands, Prince of Marienburg, Albrecht von Reinsfeld, in recognition of his experience and knowledge of Bretonnian territory from previous campaigns… With Sigmar's will, he shall lead us to great victory." He finished his words, dismounted from his horse, and handed me the parchment. "Do you accept this honor?"

"I thank the consideration of our Emperor, the Chosen of Sigmar, and I gladly accept this honor of leading the Empire's coming great victory in Bretonnia," I replied, taking the parchment while feeling the weight of many eyes upon me.

"Good. General, there is something we must discuss about the Imperial plans for this campaign," said Prince Karl Franz.

"Then accompany me, Prince, to my tent, where we can speak calmly," I answered, turning as the Prince followed me along with some twenty members of the Reiksguard.

Upon arriving, they found the maps I had gathered from my days in Bretonnia. I took a seat in one of the chairs, while the Prince did the same, and little by little more members of the Reiksguard settled inside.

"So then, Imperial Prince, tell me: what are the wishes of your father, the Emperor, for this campaign ahead of us? That way, we may take the best possible decisions," I said with a smile.

"Father wants the campaign to end with the conquest of Gisoreux and to secure the Grismerie River as a frontier with Bretonnia, placing a noble there who will be fully responsible for its defense and for putting an end once and for all to Bretonnian attacks on Imperial soil," the Prince replied.

"To conquer only a duchy? Do they not wish to go further? Or are we trying to be conservative here?" I asked, staring at him.

"The more territory we conquer, the harder it will be to administer, since it would remain an active frontier against Bretonnia. The ideal would be to secure a peace treaty once the rivers are established as the border. Besides, many nobles will fight among themselves to claim those lands, as already happened here. Much of the chaos in Montfort, and the failure of the previous campaign in Gisoreux, stemmed from nobles competing over who would take the city to later claim it in court. The war could have ended much earlier," the Prince explained.

"After that, Father wants us to turn our forces against the greenskins in the mountains and attempt to hunt down the necromancer who attacked last year. Many Imperial soldiers died in that battle," Karl Franz continued.

"Very well, I think I can do something. Instead of conquering more territory, he wants us to secure the borders, which in itself is very good for the Empire. But striking through Bretonnian defenses directly would not be very intelligent: all their forces must be concentrated there to fight us, since that is clearly the most obvious point where they would expect a blow," I said, examining a map of Gisoreux.

"Then what will the plan be? You have around sixty thousand men available for this campaign, outnumbering the Bretonnians if the previous general's estimates are correct," Karl Franz said, running his fingers across my maps.

"I plan to strike at Quenelles, to the south," I pointed at the map.

"That goes against my father's orders, Elector Count of the Westerlands," Karl Franz replied.

"Do you think I will march directly where all the Grail Knights and Damsels have gathered? No… We will strike where they are undefended. We can build a simple bridge over the Grismerie and cross swiftly into Quenelles, in a matter of days, without alerting the Bretonnians too much. Then we begin to attack a territory the Imperials were not expected to target, and thus left without defenses. What do you think the Bretonnian king will do when he sees that a duchy he thought secure is being invaded?" I asked with a smile.

"They will have to move to defend it," replied the Prince.

"Exactly. They will have to move. The march of Bretonnian armies is slower than that of the Imperials, unless it's only the knights traveling. And if they attack us in Quenelles with only cavalry, without their thousands of peasants, they will be easily defeated. But what I truly want is just that: for them to move. They will have to cross south, and when their armies meet ours in Quenelles, we will withdraw. That's where we will use our numerical superiority: sending an army of some twenty thousand men to seize the Grismerie crossings, controlling all the bridges and forcing them to go around the river to reach Gisoreux," I said, tracing the map.

"If we are quick, we could complete the conquest of the city before the Bretonnian army arrives. A victory gained without the need for a pitched battle, if possible," I concluded.

"An exceptional plan… but what if the Bretonnians do not move from their positions and completely ignore our presence in the south?" asked one of the Reiksguard officers of note.

"The Bretonnian code of chivalry would not allow them to leave their lands undefended. But if they did, we can always burn and sack every shrine of the Lady we find, forcing them to come. We can conquer their castles and keep moving, taking more ducal seats until they are forced to react. If the king remained idle while losing castles without resistance, I would not doubt the Grail Knights themselves would throw him from the throne," I answered calmly.

"That must be avoided, since what we seek is future peace with Bretonnia, not a prolonged war consuming Imperial resources. When this ends, it will be Reikland that funds most of the effort, and we do not want to maintain an extended conflict against the Bretonnians. We lack the means to administer and defend more territories right now. First, we must secure the borders against greenskins and beastmen. This unity of the Empire must be used to cleanse our lands of those threats before thinking of a campaign that overextends our frontiers," said the Prince.

"So it shall be, Imperial Prince. But for now, we will proceed with my plan to distract the Bretonnians. Have your men prepare—we march at once to Montfort to begin our campaign," I concluded, smiling as I began to gather the maps.

-----------------------------

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.

-------------------------------

Novel