When future historians record the rise of the Iron Tsar in their chronicles, the Battle of Lake Chudskoye is a chapter that cannot be bypassed. It was after this engagement, having crushed the army of the most powerful nation in all of Kislev, that Perturabo truly became the supreme power of the land, leveling the road leading to the throne of the High Tsar.
However, the details of how Perturabo won the Battle of Lake Chudskoye still require careful unraveling to reconstruct a concise yet detailed sequence of cause and effect. Now, let us see how this battle on the ice, which decided the fate of all Kislev, began.
Inside Perturabo's command tent.
"Wadisvav actually had the patience not to pursue you? How... unexpected. I thought he would strike out recklessly due to his disadvantageous position. It seems I underestimated my opponent."
After listening to the report from the returning Kossar scouts, Perturabo nodded slightly. He now viewed his adversary with a new level of respect.
"Yes, My Lord. We found that the Lehlians are strictly guarding their supply lines. They drive us away whenever we approach, but they refuse to give chase. King Wadisvav must have realized your intentions and forbidden them from pursuing us," the Kossar rider added, clearly impressed by the Lehlian discipline.
"Nevertheless, whether he possesses a wisdom comparable to mine or not, his precarious situation is not something he can talk his way out of. No matter how he tries to minimize his losses, everything will be reduced to ash upon the frozen surface of Lake Chudskoye."
Perturabo nodded again after the scout's follow-up report, continuing with a hint of disdain.
"It seems you are quite confident, Abo. Although I do not understand military affairs, I can sense your certainty in this victory."
Mikhail, standing beside Perturabo, nodded with a look of gratified pride. As a father, watching his foster son grow from an ordinary monk into a leader and sovereign commanding a vast army brought him immense joy and pride.
"Yes, Mr. Mikhail. I have absolute confidence. I believe that today I shall tear through these Lehlians and truly decide the destiny of this world!"
Perturabo answered effortlessly as he lifted his helmet from the table. He was already clad in full plate armor custom-forged for his massive frame, lacking only the headpiece.
Under the watchful eyes of his subordinates, Perturabo stepped out of the tent into the clearing. Parked there were dozens of the war machines he had personally constructed. Perturabo selected one and climbed up—his stature was so immense that ordinary warhorses could not carry him, which was one of the primary reasons he had built these steam-powered mechanical beasts.
"Mr. Mikhail, please wait here for my triumphant return!"
Having ascended the war machine he chose as his command platform, Perturabo turned back toward Mikhail, who had followed him out, and shouted.
"I believe you will return victorious, Abo! I shall pray for you before the Lord!" Mikhail responded loudly to his foster son's ambitious words.
This time, Perturabo, who usually enjoyed mocking Mikhail's faith, surprisingly refrained from any derisive comments. He simply looked at his foster father and offered a cold, thin smile.
After a long moment, he turned his gaze toward the Streltsi soldiers assembling in the clearing. These battle-hardened, loyal soldiers stared silently at their commander and master, awaiting his next order.
"Now, move out! Let us destroy the Lehlians! Iron leads to strength, strength leads to honor, honor leads to iron!" Perturabo spoke again, personally raising his own battle cry.
"Iron leads to strength, strength leads to honor, honor leads to iron!"
Accompanied by Perturabo's roar, the previously silent Streltsi joined in with fanatical intensity. The sound of their collective battle cry drowned out all other noise, warming the desolate, snow-covered winter landscape with the heat of a human tide.
Perturabo engaged his war machine and began the march toward the frozen Lake Chudskoye, his silent and loyal Streltsi following him in formation. These warriors in grey uniforms knew that in a few hours, they might bleed and die, but at this moment, they were fearless.
High atop his command platform, Perturabo narrowed his eyes as he looked ahead. He appeared to still be calculating a multitude of tactics and plans, thinking of how to end this war in the fastest manner with the fewest casualties.
Despite the numerous internal issues plaguing the Lehlian host, Wadisvav had maintained the army's discipline and cohesion. Now, they finally arrived at the shores of Lake Chudskoye—the place where the final blood would be spilled between the two nations.
Wadisvav allowed himself a small sigh of relief. The fact that they had reached this point without a large-scale mutiny or a coup was, to him, a miracle worthy of praying before an icon for three days and nights once he returned home.
"My Lord, look! What is that?!"
Just as Wadisvav finally relaxed, a Black Army knight beside him spotted something in the distance and shouted a warning.
Wadisvav quickly pulled out his exquisitely crafted telescope and looked across the frozen expanse of the lake. What he saw filled him with dread: Perturabo's Streltsi had already seized the advantageous terrain and were arrayed in battle formation.
"Damn it! They have already taken their positions. Our chances of winning have plummeted! Perhaps we shouldn't attack directly, but instead fortify a camp and prepare for a battle of positions!"
Realizing Perturabo was fully prepared, Wadisvav spoke with rising anger.
"Heh, my respected King, why not simply use our invincible Winged Hussars to overrun them? How can mere infantry withstand them? Are you truly terrified of this Perturabo?"
The same noble who had previously been disrespectful spoke up again. Behind him, many other nobles waited silently to see how the King would respond.
"If that is your will, then let the battle begin now."
Realizing the nobles under his command did not support his cautious approach, King Wadisvav sighed and shook his head. He could only place his hopes on the Winged Hussars breaking the enemy formation in the opening charge.
"Now, all forces, charge! Break the enemy lines!"