West Francia, Paris
After losing the Battle of Dunwo Manor, the morale of the Frankish coalition collapsed.
Nobles began slipping away one after another without notice. By the time the army withdrew behind the Seine, Charles the Bald had only twenty thousand troops left.
Over the following weeks, he desperately sought reinforcements from every direction—
with particular emphasis on Italy.
Northern Italy's Po Valley was fertile and ideal for agriculture. Infrastructure left behind from Roman times still functioned, and several port towns continued to prosper.
Charles aggressively exaggerated the Viking threat and appealed to shared faith, urging every region to participate in what he described as a decisive war that would determine the fate of all Europe.
Judging by the letters arriving daily, he estimated that twenty to thirty thousand reinforcements could be gathered from southern Frankia and Italy.
But another problem demanded immediate attention.
After last year's crushing defeat, Charles realized something unpleasant:
He simply lacked the ability to command armies larger than fifty thousand.
Count William of Orléans was mediocre.
Jean de Tuval was a complete fool.
Charles mentally reviewed every Frankish noble he knew.
After half a day of consideration, he reluctantly picked up pen and paper and wrote a personal letter to Zaragoza.
"My dearest friend…"
At present, Gunnar's fortress at Caen and all of Normandy had been occupied by Vig, while Gunnar's wife Vivian and eldest son Robert remained in the Paris court.
Charles estimated there was a sixty percent chance of persuading him to return and help.
By late February, temperatures rose and the waters of the English Channel gradually calmed.
Two ranger battalions and replacement troops from noble domains were shipped to Cherbourg one after another.
Vig's total force increased to fifty-three thousand men.
He maintained the same structure:
Royal Field Army (Direct Command Division)
Cavalry Division
Three Field Divisions
Heavy cavalry increased to three thousand.
Rangers expanded to eighteen hundred.
The garrison forces grew to twelve regiments, continuing to perform lower-value tasks.
Thanks to captured armor, their armor rate remained around 30–40%, giving them respectable combat strength.
Besides that—
the Cabinet had recruited four thousand mercenary infantry from Eastern Europe.
They were currently waiting on Gotland for transport and were expected to arrive at the front in late March.
Vig read the Cabinet's detailed report.
At present, total military personnel had reached nearly seventy thousand—
including:
Expeditionary forces
More than ten thousand naval personnel
Homeland and overseas garrisons
Mobilization exceeded 2.5% of the home population, reaching Britannia's practical limit.
Any further recruitment would seriously damage industry and agriculture and reduce tax revenues.
In short—
the Cabinet recommended increasing reliance on mercenaries.
Their organization was poor, but at least they could reduce pressure on the field army.
Attached to the report were charts listing available manpower and prices across Eastern Europe.
Vig scanned them one by one and found the proposal overly optimistic.
"Pomeranians, Livonians, Curonians, Finns, and Rus all speak different languages."
"Communication would be a nightmare."
"If we're careless, the mercenaries might start killing each other over loot."
Vig scratched his head irritably.
Did the Cabinet really trust his command ability so much—
that they believed even a patchwork army of hired soldiers could still win?
March 10
The expeditionary army ended winter rest and launched a new offensive.
Frankish resistance remained stubborn.
Taking advantage of the winter pause, they had built numerous wooden forts east of Le Mans, while nearby villages had already evacuated grain supplies.
At the current pace—
and considering expected casualties—
Vig estimated it would cost:
Two months
At least five thousand casualties
just to reach the Seine.
Paris itself had strong defenses and required a prolonged siege.
If large Frankish reinforcements arrived and coordinated with defenders inside the city—
the Vikings would likely lose.
Vig slowly reached a conclusion.
"No."
"The previous strategy was flawed."
"I underestimated Frankish national strength."
"Even after losing tens of thousands of field troops, they can still sustain resistance on this scale."
Vig ordered the army back to Le Mans.
After three days of planning—
he developed a new strategy.
Calling his commanders together, he announced:
"Paris is too difficult."
"We're changing direction."
This time—
the route would follow the Loire River.
Vig intended to advance eastward upstream, capturing:
Angers
Tours
Orléans
Control of the Loire would effectively divide Charles's territory into north and south.
If the Frankish army remained concentrated around Paris—
Vig could strike the wealthy and lightly defended south.
Grain.
Horses.
Gold and silver.
Wine.
Everything could be seized—
and turned into funds for hiring even more Eastern Europeans.
After explaining the plan, he assigned missions:
"Second and Third Field Divisions attack southwest toward Angers."
"I'll lead the remaining troops south toward Tours."
"Also notify Joren."
"The navy is to establish a river fleet immediately."
"Use rowing longships to transport supplies and control the waterways."
At dawn the next day—
Vig led over twenty thousand troops southward.
Before long, the previously defensive Frankish army realized their existing plans were collapsing.
They dispatched large numbers of reconnaissance cavalry to discover Vig's intentions.
Late March
Cold winds swept across the flat, open grasslands.
Thirty-odd rangers rode cautiously forward.
Wearing standardized cloth armor, their eyes scanned the distance like hunting hawks.
"Rest here."
After giving the order, Ranger Platoon Leader Santan gathered his three squad leaders.
He unfolded a crudely drawn sheepskin map and outlined their routes:
"Squad One—go this way."
"Circle the lake and record terrain."
"Squad Two—search these orchards."
"Check for enemy activity."
"Squad Three stays with me."
"We'll follow the road to this crossroads and search for the missing patrol from the neighboring company."
"Regroup here before sunset."
"Don't get lost."
Before he finished—
a sentry suddenly shouted:
"Enemy! Twenty-plus Frankish cavalry!"
Santan carefully folded the map and mounted up.
Two hundred paces away—
twenty-seven chain-armored riders appeared silently along the crest of a northeastern slope.
"Damn."
"Those annoying barbarians again."
The two sides stared at each other for several minutes.
Neither retreated.
Then both urged their horses forward.
Cold wind lashed Santan's face.
He drew an arrow—
then suddenly noticed something strange.
The Frankish riders were lowering…
crossbows.
Mounted crossbowmen?
What new trick was this?
At thirty paces—
the rangers loosed first.
Bowstrings snapped.
Arrows screamed through the air.
A moment later—
heavy crossbow mechanisms clacked in response.
Bolts rushed toward them.
Projectiles crossed overhead.
Five riders fell from their saddles.
Dust burst upward.
Formations dissolved almost instantly.
More than fifty horsemen descended into chaos.
The rangers continued peppering the enemy with arrows.
The mounted crossbowmen reloaded slowly.
Some abandoned their crossbows entirely and charged into melee.
The fighting became increasingly chaotic.
Soon—
more and more Frankish cavalry were thrown from their horses.
Some struggled upright and regrouped.
Then—
they raised their crossbows again.
But instead of aiming at the cloth-armored Vikings—
they targeted the horses beneath them.
—------------------------------
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