The Returned Lord Is a Genius of Gun Law - Chapter 26
chapter 26
The Count and the Baron
The Returning Lord is a Gun Law Genius – Episode 26
Episode 26
Count Gorbon Bolton sat at his desk, gazing out the window.
Clang! Clang!
The rhythmic sound of soldiers training in formation on the training grounds outside drifted through the window.
“A magnificent sight,” a voice came from the inner part of the office.
It was Lord Lawrence. He had been comfortably seated on the sofa, sipping wine, but now he rose and approached the window.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen five hundred men move in such formation.”
“Indeed,” Gorbon nodded.
“When was the last time we mobilized such a force… Five years ago, during the mountain bandit suppression?”
“But this time, it’s not bandits we’re facing, but nobles,” Lawrence said sarcastically. “Though merely a baron, at that.”
“A baron is still a noble,” Gorbon replied.
He turned away from the window and returned to his desk.
“The justification is important. We haven’t broken any imperial laws, and we’ve recorded our attempts at legitimate negotiation, which were rejected.”
“Perfect.”
Lawrence smiled. “Even the imperial court won’t be able to find fault with that.”
Knock, knock.
That’s when the sound of someone knocking on the door was heard.
“Come in.”
At Gorban’s permission, the door opened and a man entered. It was Manuel, the commander of Bolton’s knights.
“My Lord Count, I report.”
Manuel knelt on one knee, lowering his head. The scars on his face remained, and his movements lacked their former agility.
“Rise. How are you feeling?”
“…I apologize for causing you concern. I haven’t fully recovered yet, but I’m fit for battle.”
“Don’t overexert yourself. If you fall, there will be no one to lead the knights.”
Manuel lowered his head at Gorbon’s words.
“I will keep it in mind.”
“And the troop assembly?”
“Completed,” Manuel reported. “Four hundred eighty infantry and twenty knights—a total of five hundred men are standing by.”
“How are the knights?”
“All in peak condition. Especially since they are the elite chosen for this operation, they will not fail to meet your expectations, my lord.”
“Good.” Gorbon nodded with satisfaction.
“What about Croker’s forces?”
“According to reconnaissance reports, they are estimated to be between one hundred fifty and two hundred men.”
“Knights?”
“Fewer than five. Most are common soldiers.”
Lorenz scoffed at Manuel’s report. “Five hundred versus two hundred, with an overwhelming advantage in knights. This won’t be a war; it’ll be a slaughter.”
“Don’t let your guard down.”
But Gorban remained cautious. “That young lord, Eugene Croaker, is not to be underestimated. Didn’t Manuel fall victim to him?”
“…I apologize.” Manuel’s face hardened. “But this time is different. Last time, we charged recklessly with only ten knights and were caught off guard. Now, we have an army of five hundred. No matter how powerful Earth’s weapons are, they will be useless against such a force.”
“That’s true.” Gorban looked down at the map spread across his desk. A red line marked the route from Bolton Territory to Croaker Territory. “Is this the planned march route?”
“Yes. If we follow the main road straight, we’ll reach Croaker Castle in two days.”
“Any ambushes or disruptions along the way?”
“The terrain between us and Crocus is mostly flat, leaving few suitable spots for an ambush. Even if there were, we’ll be sending scouts ahead, so it won’t be a problem.”
“Good.”
Gorbun looked up from the map and met Manuel’s gaze.
“We depart in three days. Until then, ensure the soldiers are in peak condition and double-check all supplies.”
“I understand.”
Manuel bowed and withdrew.
The door closed, leaving the two men alone once more.
“Three days from now…” Gorbun murmured.
“Soon, Crocus will be in our hands.”
“Indeed.”
Gorbun raised his wine glass.
“And the magic stone mine as well.”
“We’ve already agreed on the distribution ratio, haven’t we? Seventy to thirty.”
“Of course. Seventy for me, thirty for you.”
“Hmm. A bit disappointing, but…”
A smile spread across Loren’s face.
“Still, it’s not a bad deal.”
“By the way…”
Gorban glanced out the window again.
“Still no word from Crocus. Do they really not understand our intentions?”
“I doubt it,” Lawrence said firmly. “According to Walter’s report, Eugene Crocus is quite cunning. He must have already realized we’re stalling for time.”
“Then why no response?”
“He’s probably preparing. Knowing we’ll attack, he’s fortifying his defenses.”
“It won’t matter,” Gorban scoffed. “500 against 200—the outcome is already decided.”
“I agree.” Lawrence raised his glass. “To the fall of Crocus!”
Clink!
The sound of the two glasses clinking echoed through the office.
Gorban took a sip of wine and looked down at the map. A red X marked the Crocus territory.
In three days, it will all be over.
A cold smile spread across his lips.
On the outskirts of Crocus Territory, a dry riverbed cut through the center of the plain. It was a place no one usually paid attention to, a waterless streambed. But now, it was different.
“Careful! That way!”
“We need more barbed wire!”
“Dig the trenches deeper here!”
Dozens of soldiers moved busily. Trenches were being dug along both banks of the riverbed, and barbed wire was being installed in various places. At the river’s entrance, Jerome was personally directing the burial of something in the ground.
C4 explosives.
And landmines.
“My Lord.”
When Eugene arrived at the riverbed site, Jerome approached him.
“The trap installation is 70% complete. We should be able to finish everything by noon tomorrow.”
“What about troop deployment?”
“Seventy men on each bank, with thirty reserves stationed at the riverbed.”
Yujin nodded and walked slowly along the stream.
The stream was about 40 meters wide and 2 meters deep.
From a distance, it looked like flat ground, but up close, a natural trench had formed.
Perfect.
Yujin thought with satisfaction.
Crawford and Leon followed behind him, their expressions grim.
“My Lord,” Crawford said cautiously, “are you certain this will hold them?”
“What do you mean?”
“Bolton’s forces number 500 men.”
Worry laced Crawford’s voice. “We have fewer than 200, and only 20 knights…”
“They are demons of the battlefield,” Leon added, his face dark. “Each one is worth ten ordinary soldiers. Twenty of them… that’s equivalent to 200 troops.”
“So, we’re actually facing 700 enemies, not 500,” Jerome added grimly.
A heavy silence fell over the group.
All the retainers turned to look at Eugene, their faces etched with worry, anxiety, and fear.
But Eugene replied calmly, “Numbers aren’t everything. Whether it’s 500 or 700, what matters is where and how we fight.”
He pointed to the stream. “Once they cross here, they’ll be caught in our trap. The C4 and mines will detonate, shattering their formation and draining their aura.”
“But…”
“And the moment their formation breaks…”
Eugene gestured to both banks of the stream.
“We’ll unleash a coordinated volley from both sides. They’ll have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Trapped in the stream, they’ll be subjected to relentless crossfire.”
The retainers silently gazed at the river.
As Eugene had said, this was a trap.
Though it appeared level, it was actually a pit designed to ensnare the enemy.
“The knights are no different,” Eugene continued. “Their aura isn’t infinite. Sustained attacks will eventually break it. And the moment it shatters, they’re just human.”
Eugene had already experienced this in the previous battle.
The Bolton knight he’d felled with his shotgun.
When their aura shattered, the knights proved to be just human after all.
“The key is to prepare first,” Eugene said, looking at his retainers. “We chose this terrain, we laid the trap, and we’re waiting. Bolton is coming without knowing any of this.”
His eyes gleamed coldly.
“That’s our advantage.”
The retainers slowly nodded.
Though anxiety lingered, they seemed somewhat reassured by Eugene’s confidence.
“Continue with your assigned tasks,” Eugene ordered.
“Have everything prepared by noon tomorrow. Bolton arrives in two days.”
“Understood, my Lord.”
The retainers bowed their heads and dispersed.
Eugene remained alone, gazing at the river.
The sun was setting, its red glow painting the riverbed.
Two days.
Eugene thought.
In two days, this place will become a battlefield.
Five hundred soldiers.
Twenty knights.
An overwhelming disparity in numbers.
But Eugene felt no fear.
Terrain, tactics, and preparation.
He had already experienced enough battlefields.
He knew that numbers alone didn’t guarantee victory.
We hold the line here.
Eugene clenched his fist.
Bolton’s blade will shatter in this river.
From afar, he heard the clatter of soldiers setting traps.
Clack. Clack.
Eugene turned and left the riverbank.
Behind him, the red glow of sunset slowly faded.
Darkness was descending.
It was the calm before the storm.
Three days later, the Earl of Bolton’s army began to move.
“That’s the border of Crocus territory,” Gorban said, looking in the direction Manuel pointed.
Perfect.
A smile spread across his face as he surveyed the vast plains.
There’s no way to stop our cavalry and knights on this flat terrain. Even if Crocus builds a defensive line, it would be useless on open ground.
“Manuel.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Send more scouts ahead. There might be an ambush.”
“Understood.”
Manuel gestured, and ten lightly armed soldiers rode forward.
“Report! No enemy traces within a kilometer!”
“Good.”
Satisfied with the scouts’ report, Gorbon nodded and shouted to his entire army, “All troops, advance!”
With his command, five hundred soldiers marched into Crocus’s territory.
Gorbon watched them from atop his horse, radiating confidence.
Crocus, are you prepared? he sneered inwardly. It won’t matter. You can’t overcome the difference in numbers with tactics.
Even as Gorbon scoffed in his mind, the army pressed onward.
Just then,
“Hey… what’s that?”
One of the lead soldiers frowned in confusion.
“A stream?”
“But the water’s dried up?”
The soldiers arrived at the edge of the parched riverbed, their faces etched with confusion.
Only then did Gorban notice the riverbed.
There are no signs of moisture. It must have been dry for a long time.
That meant the army could advance without any issues.
“Forward!”
As soon as Gorban, having made his assessment, gave the order, the soldiers at the front began crossing the riverbed.
Smooth sailing.
Watching his troops advance easily without resistance, Gorban smiled in satisfaction.
KWAANG-!
Until the earth-shattering explosion and the world-shaking roar.