!
"Ah-ha! Heilige Scheiße, holy dogshit! Who the hell wants to go out to sea, hand his life over to the ocean, and look for some damned India or Cipangu? Our mercenary company is going to northern Italy! The city-states there are rolling in fat, gold and silver everywhere, milk and honey everywhere, and we'll take it all with our greatswords!"
"Diamine! Reinhard, what did you say?! Genoa in northern Italy is my home! When did the French army conquer northern Italy? So many city-states, mighty Lombardy, Florence, and Pisa—have they all surrendered? And the strongest of them all, the Venetians—what are they doing?!..."
"Haaha! The Italian city-states are a pack of soft eggs! Soaked in all that art and theater, knowing only pleasure and indulgence, even their knees have been soaked soft! The moment the French cavalry corps arrived and raised their lances, every northern Italian city-state along the way surrendered. Not one resisted to the end, not one had a hard bone in its body! Those soft eggs in the city-states! Once our mercenary company reaches Italy, we'll show them good and hard what real German men are—men who dare fight and dare kill!..."
The mercenary captain, Reinhard von Ritter, roared with laughter and held the French king's letter of employment high, as though he were holding Andvari's Ring of Wealth from Germanic myth. He let out a long breath, glanced at Columbus, who had been suppressed by his momentum, and bared his teeth in a fierce grin.
"Mein Schwert ist nicht das Einzige, was scharf ist! Our greatswords aren't the only sharp things we have! Once we're in northern Italy, we German men will let those limp city-state folk see what the rough savagery of burning, killing, and looting looks like, what the hard cruelty of war