Viking: Master of the Icy Sea

Chapter 339: Return to the Old Land

"I am Dillers de Lotte, Count of Brest by enfeoffment of the King."

The Count loudly announced his identity, then handed his sword over to the middle-aged man before him. "It seems we have met before."

Wig accepted the captive's sword and casually handed it to the attendant beside him. "I am Wig Tynefort. Having tangled with the Franks for over twenty years, it is perfectly normal for you to recognize me."

Upon learning that the other party was the Serpent of the North, Count Dillers's mood lightened slightly. This man had defeated an unknown number of Frankish armies; losing to him was no disgrace.

The next moment, his nerves tensed once more. "What exactly do you want, crossing the sea to attack us personally?"

"Everything."

Wig did not waste any more words. He ordered the captives to be properly settled, then summoned the agents of his intelligence network. Without their efforts, this siege would have cost at least five hundred casualties.

Following an investigator, Wig toured this newly conquered port town.

Brest boasted a vast bay, narrow at the mouth and wide on the inside, with an average water depth of about twenty-six feet, making it exceptionally suitable for anchoring large warships. In the seventeenth century, Cardinal Richelieu would build this into a military port, serving as an important hub for France to control its colonies in North America and the Caribbean Sea.

Gazing over the entire port from the top of the tower, Wig sighed in admiration. "Such excellent natural conditions. No wonder it would become one of France's two most important military ports, the other being Toulon."A week later, reinforcements arrived. This time, the fleet had expanded to one hundred and forty ships, transporting six thousand soldiers and four hundred steppe horses.

Wig left a garrison of a thousand men to defend the city, instructing them to set up iron chains across the mouth of the bay to prevent the Frankish fire ship tactics.

"Understood!"

With all matters settled, Wig led eight thousand men eastward. Guided by the agents, Wig easily located the knight's estates along the way. Lacking stone walls and castles, these estates were incredibly easy to attack.

The estates ranged roughly from five hundred to fifteen hundred acres. They also implemented the three-field system, and occasionally, small vineyards for growing grapes could be seen.

After a week of marching, Wig closed in on the Duke of Brittany's residence—Rennes. Along the way, he conveniently breached seven noble estates, securing urgently needed grain, cattle, and sheep, as well as twenty warhorses and seventy draft horses. It was a bountiful harvest.

Unfortunately, the commoners of Brittany reacted with cold indifference. Over the past eleven years, most of the Bretons who dared to rebel had been killed, hidden in the mountains, or forced into exile. The vast majority of the populace had grown accustomed to the rule of the Frankish nobility.

Wig pondered to himself, 'Forget it. If the locals had actively participated, I would have had to grant them more autonomy after the war. Since they chose to remain uninvolved, I will make Brittany a direct territory under my command once this is over.'

Compared to the past, the defenses of Rennes were far more formidable, complete with stone city walls, towers, and a moat. Even more troublesome were the numerous heavy ballistae mounted on the walls, capable of firing crossbow bolts roughly six feet long. Judging from their design, they likely originated from the Moors of Iberia.

The captives' confessions verified this suspicion. The Duke's eldest son had gone to fight in Iberia the previous year, bringing back vast amounts of gold and silver vessels, olive oil, and other spoils of war, along with over a dozen Moorish craftsmen.

"Knowing to abduct technical personnel... he is a noble with brains."

Riding Greywind III, Wig led his younger son, Leif, along with over thirty young staff officers, on a wide reconnaissance loop around the city.

In the past, he would set up trebuchets to destroy the battlements and use siege towers to transport soldiers onto the walls. But now that the garrison possessed heavy ballistae capable of easily piercing the wooden planks of the siege towers, his previous tactics were obsolete.

He decided to adopt new tactics.

After careful surveying, Wig chose the northern stone wall as his breakthrough point. His men dug a tunnel in the open ground outside the city, constructing a thick, heavy wooden shed over the entrance. The tunnel ran roughly sixteen feet underground. The air down there was foul, thick with the stench of dirt, sweat, and grease, illuminated only by the faint glow of oil lamps.

The tunnel was only wide enough for two people to dig at a time. The sappers worked in shifts, digging while simultaneously using thick wooden beams and wooden planks to build supports, shoring up the loose soil to prevent cave-ins.

The excavation proceeded day and night without pause. To draw the garrison's attention, the Vikings launched attacks on other sections of the wall. They brought up field ballista parts from the rear, assembled twenty light ballistae, and engaged in a fierce shootout with the defenders.

After three grueling weeks of digging, the tunnel successfully reached directly beneath the wall. The sappers carefully expanded the space at the end of the tunnel, creating a chamber large enough to hold massive amounts of fuel. They used dozens of timber beams to support the ceiling and prevent premature collapse.

"One hundred and thirty fire pots. Yes, that should be enough."

The commander tallied the supplies transported from the rear, signed the bottom of the handover manifest, and had the sappers transport them down into the tunnel.

With everything ready, Wig gave the order to ignite it. A brave sapper tossed a torch into the combustion chamber, then quickly evacuated the tunnel.

The fire spread rapidly, causing the temperature inside the chamber to skyrocket. The wooden beams supporting the earth above crackled and popped, groaning under the overwhelming strain.

Finally, the hundreds of wooden beams burned down to a critical point and lost their load-bearing capacity. Accompanied by a deafening roar, before the garrison could even react, that section of the stone city wall suffered a catastrophic collapse, throwing a massive cloud of dust into the sky.

Once the smoke and dust cleared, a gaping maw had appeared in the northern wall of Rennes. The stone wall and the towering watchtower had vanished, replaced by a chaotic heap of stones.

"Beautifully done!"

Seeing this, thousands of Vikings erupted into earth-shaking cheers. Wig issued his orders:

"The Axe Guard's target is the Duke's residence;

"The two Mountain Infantry Battalions will respectively attack the warehouses and the garrison camp;

"The First and Second Infantry Regiments are to clear out the enemies on the walls;

"The remaining forces will secure the four city gates to prevent the enemy from breaking out."

"Follow me!"

Upon receiving his orders, Douglas hoisted his battle axe high and led over three hundred howling Axe Guard infantrymen scrambling up the pile of rubble. Once inside the city, they advanced rapidly down the streets, completely ignoring the scattered enemies around them.

Following the intelligence network's map, Douglas arrived at a sprawling estate in the western part of the city. Twenty soldiers hefted a massive log and smashed through the main gates. Inside the courtyard, over a hundred guards had hastily assembled. Spears protruded from the gaps between their shields, bristling like a patch of deadly thorns.

"Javelins!"

The Axe Guard hurled two volleys of javelins before Douglas charged headlong into the enemy formation. His two-handed battle axe swung down with crushing force. The shield blocking his path shattered instantly, sending wood splinters flying. Without losing any momentum, the axe blade bit deeply into the shoulder and neck of the soldier behind the shield. Douglas kicked the dying man aside and swung his battle axe toward another soldier. The garrison's spears thrust vainly against his thick armor, failing to inflict even a single scratch.

Under Douglas's lead, the axe infantry swiftly purged all resistance within the Duke's residence. Regrettably, one of the soldiers accidentally struck down the Duke of Brittany, failing to capture him alive.