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TWL Chapter 380: Cintra Will Rise Again
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 02:53:54 +0000 UTCLetho and Vesemir exchanged glances. At last, the old Witcher chuckled softly and gestured for Letho to step forward.
“We’ve formed a guerrilla unit with 1,000 of those new recruits. Our job is to harass Nilfgaard’s supply lines,” said the leader of the School of the Viper, pointing to several locations on the map. “Here, here, and here.”
Each of those locations marked complex terrain—hills, forests, and similar obstacles. Each time Letho pointed, the black-haired officer placed a lion-head piece accordingly.
Next came Eist, representing Skellige. The black-haired officer—recognizing him as a veteran from Queen Calanthe's era—immediately bowed, already holding a handful of war tokens shaped like drakkar.
“Skellige has sent 7,000 warriors.”
The number wasn’t particularly large; Skellige, after all, was a sparse island chain. But those who came were seasoned warriors of the sea—elite fighters.
“We’re splitting into two groups. One is harassing Imperial forces along Cintra’s western coast. The other is sailing up the Yaruga to cut directly into the continental battlefield.”
The black-haired officer quickly placed the drakkar tokens at the spots Eist had indicated.
“We also have 3,000 troops from the Kovir Free Company coming down from the north. They’ll arrive in a couple of days,” added Mousesack.
The officer pulled out several tokens shaped like a metallic iron arm—emblem of the Kovir royal family—and placed them in the northern seas above Cintra.
“And finally, there’s us. We can rally around 5,000 Mahakam heavy infantry, counting the younger lads,” said Barclay, stepping forward and pointing toward Mahakam. “It’ll take us a long time to get here—do any of your mage corps have portal capabilities? Or should we just wait in Sodden for the big showdown?”
“Once the battle’s over, we can split into two groups. The ones I brought with me will return the way we came. Guys like Zigrin can go with you to settle in Cintra, maybe?”
Lann didn’t immediately answer Barclay’s question. The black-haired officer placed several war tokens shaped like hammers at the foot of the Mahakam Mountains—after all, the past few days hadn’t given the dwarves much time to march, given their lower mobility.
“So, in total, we’ve gathered around 20,000 troops,” Marshal Vissegerd said with a frown. “That’s still significantly fewer than the 30,000 Nilfgaardian soldiers stationed in Cintra. But the good news is that our troops are mostly elite units, with more diverse compositions and greater tactical flexibility. And since we’re fighting on home soil, our morale is high.”
Finally, the black-haired officer placed a large number of Black Army tokens to the south of Cintra on the board—representing Nilfgaardian troops still stationed in the rear, not yet deployed to the northern front.
“The Nilfgaardians probably still believe we have only 5,000 troops—if that. I recommend launching a lightning assault while they’re unprepared.”
The marshal was the first to put forward his battle plan, signaling to the chestnut-haired officer to draw the proposed military routes.
“Once we’ve driven the southerners out of Cintra, the cavalry stationed in Lower Sodden will be left isolated. Sodden is mountainous terrain. If we march through Brugge and attack Upper Sodden from above, we’ll be holding the high ground. Their cavalry will lose its advantage, and their heavy armor will only weigh them down.”
“Or better yet, we may not even need to deploy our own forces. We could write directly to King Foltest of Temeria. If he learns that the Nilfgaardians have a detailed battle plan and that his kingdom is the next target, he’s bound to send troops to aid us.”
“Then we, along with the Aedirnians, the Lyrians, and the Rivians, will surround those black-clad bastards and drive them straight into the Yaruga River!”
Marshal Vissegerd ground his teeth as he spoke. “After this battle, with all the losses they’ve suffered, the Nilfgaardians won’t have the courage to march north again!”
As for how they intended to defeat the 30,000-strong Western Army Group in Cintra with only 20,000 troops, no one voiced the slightest doubt.
Only Barclay, who had just arrived from Mahakam, looked around in puzzlement, initially wearing a skeptical expression. But he quickly realized that looking surprised made him stand out like a sore thumb.
“Are Cintrans… always this confident?” he muttered under his breath.
This plan was exactly what the Cintrans wanted—first reclaim Cintra, then close in on the Nilfgaardians from both sides, trap them like cornered beasts, and finally annihilate them as completely as possible.
Even just imagining it filled the Cintrans with immense satisfaction.
But Eist pulled everyone’s attention back with a single sentence. He voiced his opposition and pointed out a fatal flaw in the plan.
“This is too risky.”
After rejecting the Marshal’s proposal, Eist quickly gave his reasoning.
“There are fifty thousand cavalry troops stationed in Upper Sodden, including several divisions of heavy cavalry,” Eist said, pointing in the direction of Upper Sodden. “Neither our forces nor those of the Eastern Front have the strength to completely encircle them.”
“I’ve heard of Marshal Menno of Nilfgaard—he’s a decorated veteran. Someone who’s risen to that level is certainly no fool. If he decides to avoid a direct confrontation with the Northern armies and instead charges east or west, he could easily tear through our ‘defensive line’ with the troops he commands.”
“And compared to the west, where the Yaruga River acts as a natural barrier, Cintra would be their most likely target for a breakthrough. If tens of thousands of cavalry were to charge straight in… there’s a real risk that Cintra could fall again.”
After the King of Skellige’s analysis, Vissegerd’s proposed strategy did indeed start to sound like a gamble with the fate of the kingdom.
“Then, Your Maj—uh, I mean, King Eist, what exactly are you suggesting?” The Marshal looked at him inquisitively.
Eist paused to think for a moment, then pointed to a few locations on the sand table.
“Setting up a defensive line in Lower Sodden and near Lyria is feasible—but we must leave a route through Cintra that we control, one that allows the Nilfgaardians to retreat.”
“The entire southern region of Cintra would be an ideal choice.”
“Once we defeat the Western Army Group, it will effectively cut off the Central Army Group’s route of retreat. Menno will go mad trying to drive his troops back to reinforce them. At that point, we’ll lure them to southern Cintra and then converge with the rest of our forces to strike a decisive blow—drive the Nilfgaardians out completely.”
“Remember, just ‘rout’ them. The idea of completely annihilating the Nilfgaardians is tempting—I’d love to deliver a harsh blow to the Empire and make them taste pain. But we’re still in a position of weakness, only able to fight back due to a number of ‘special tactics’ and ‘unconventional forces.’ So… routing them will be enough.”
With hatred for Nilfgaard no less than, or perhaps even greater than, that of the people of Cintra, Eist took a deep breath and presented the most prudent plan: “Everything must be prioritized toward restoring Cintra, preserving Cintra, and creating a stable environment for its postwar reconstruction.”
Marshal Vissegerd fell silent. As a military man who had fought many battles, he sometimes let emotion cloud his judgment. But since this plan came from Eist, he had no choice but to take it seriously.
“But if we end up in Cintra… it’s mostly flat plains there,” he said, frowning.
Just then, Lann raised his hand slightly.
“There are several fortresses to the east of Cintra. If we deploy heavy troops to guard them, the Nilfgaardians—who lack logistics and consist mostly of cavalry—won’t dare to assault them recklessly. All they’ll be able to do is skirmish along the border. We can block them right here—”
Everyone turned to look in the direction Lann was pointing, and Eist’s expression suddenly turned sorrowful.
That place was the Valley of Marnadal, the site where the Lioness fell. It was where Nilfgaard ambushed Cintra back then.
“It’s also an ideal location for us to ambush their cavalry corps.”
With the support of both Duke Lannister and King Eist, even Marshal Vissegerd found himself unable to object. The others naturally followed suit and remained silent.
The brown-haired officer then began marking the finalized marching routes on the map, noting them down in preparation for future troop deployments.
…
Before long, the battle plan was basically settled.
Lann glanced at the still-dazed Duke aep Dahy and was about to wave for the attendants to take him away when Eist suddenly pressed a hand on his shoulder.
“There’s something that’s been bothering me, Lann. I want you to ask this guy if he knows anything about it.”
Lann gave him a puzzled look.
Eist furrowed his brow. “When fighting Nilfgaard on the front lines, I felt their troops were strangely passive, with little desire to attack. It was completely unlike the Nilfgaardians of the past—like night and day.”
“Either the commander of their Western Army Group, Joachim de Wett, is a complete fool—or they’re hiding some deeper conspiracy,” Eist analyzed. “I never place my hopes for victory on the incompetence of my enemies, so I’d rather believe in a conspiracy. I need solid intelligence.”
Lann nodded in understanding and immediately turned to channel his magic to interrogate Duke aep Dahy.
Soon, they were pleasantly surprised.
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