Departure
Departure
Contrary to Eldmia's personal assessment that he had smoothly linked up with Ragnis, the unit was quietly—and not so quietly—in a hellish uproar.
Of course it was inevitable. How was it supposed to be calm when a man everyone had dismissed as just some passerby encountered on the march was suddenly whisked away by the Margrave's own vassal? The apparent lack of disturbance was merely the controlled chaos of seasoned soldiers.
"Eldmia Ega? Who the hell is that?"
The confusion was somewhat alleviated thanks to the Margrave's men who were mixed in among the soldiers. But to soldiers just rotated off the front lines, the name was utterly foreign, and only after a long march and setting up camp did the identity of the unknown visitor begin to spread by word of mouth.
"Bullshit, they're writing fairy tales now."
The problem was that scornful reactions spread right along with it—but spread it did.
"Even if all those exploits are real, so what? At that size he's sixteen this year? On top of that, he becomes a wandering knight in the name of the Empire and the Kingdom? Why not just say he can beat a Hero too while they're at it."
"Fuck, why are you bitching at me."
"If you picked up shit gossip, of course you'd get cursed out."
The soldiers' march was extremely fast, but that didn't mean they weren't worn out. Each squad gathered together by platoon, set their positions, lit campfires, and tried to blow off steam while enjoying a brief rest and a meal—grilling the smug comrade who'd come back with absurd stories and cackling away.
But even the soldier usually called thick-skulled beyond just gullible for always dragging in wild rumors was overflowing with confidence today.
"No, I'm telling you it's real. I overheard the knights talking about it and came straight here."
"The knights?"
"Yeah, fuck. Remember that shit Battalion Commander Ranje pulled in the middle of the night last time? Ring a bell?"
There wasn't a single soldier in the Silver Eagle Independent Combat Brigade who hadn't heard the story about the 'Claws' Battalion's Mad Squirrel stepping in shit after waking up in the dead of night.
There were even bastards who'd snuck over to watch the moment they heard the story—a squirrel so unhinged she was rumored to slouch on one leg even in front of the brigade commander if she was pissed off, and she'd started ripping into her subordinate company commanders and some soldiers at the top of her lungs in the parade ground after nightfall, spewing every curse she had.
Truthfully, getting chewed out in the military was a set menu item wherever you went, and her raging wall of profanity was just a minor part of daily life for them. But the reason being 'she messed with someone she shouldn't have messed with' was a historic major incident.
Because if they took a vote on who pulled that kind of shit most often in the unit, the Mad Squirrel Ranje was a lock for the top ranks.
"...So it's real?"
How could it be real? While everyone's mouths fell shut at the unexpected intel, the subject of the topic came into view as he headed toward the command post with the Margrave. Battalion Commander Ranje was alongside him, looking like she'd been cut down by half again through relative comparison, and the soldiers watched their figures disappear into the command post with queasy expressions before looking back at each other.
"Crazy. What the hell did the Margrave bring back...?"
In contrast to the curses spilling out, sly grins spread across their lips. If the rumors were real, it was no different from adding monstrous combat power—there was nothing to do but laugh.
"Ah, come on, even so. No way every single rumor is real. What would a guy like that... sir even be lacking to go become a wandering knight?"
"This little shit's scared."
"If even one of those rumors—not half, one—is true, being scared is the normal reaction."
With a juicy bit of gossip for the first time in a while plus the fact that a talent who could prove to be damn useful combat power was joining the fight, the soldiers' interest was piqued, and from then on they were heated up about Eldmia all the way until they reached the battlefield. Some saw it as a breakdown of military discipline, but it was better than being so tense they couldn't move, so most tolerated the atmosphere.
And it actually turned out to be more effective than expected. The raw recruits gathered under the Margrave's name were swayed by the utterly unflappable mood of the veterans and didn't feel the slightest tension.
That is, until they came face to face with the magic and arrows pouring down from the massive walls of the city perched on the high ground.
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The fireballs and arrows raining from the clear sky were oddly surreal.
Of course, the same went for the catapults' colossal boulders hurtling toward the walls. A fresh recruit who'd been staring blankly at the sight soon had to feel just how unreasonable it was.
Because while the boulders and fireballs burst and shattered before even reaching their target, the arrows that tore through the debris began pouring down literally like rain.
"You little shits! Shields up!!"
The soldiers, startled by the thunderous shout, had barely raised their shields before the arrows slammed home.
"Oh fuck, gods, gods..."
"You bastard! Holding it like that won't even protect my damn head! Tighten up instead of looking for gods!"
The Mad Squirrel Ranje stalked among the soldiers like she was out for a stroll, an iron club the size of her own body slung over her shoulder, barking threats. But the soldiers experiencing combat against Demonfolk for the first time couldn't even take her words in properly. They'd clearly been told the mages in the rear were waging a spell formula battle, yet the incoming fireballs showed no sign of letting up, and every time a fireball burst against the magic barrier, the soldiers' morale and courage burst right along with it.
What drove the wedge into their already ragged state was the baptism of arrows. One soldier who'd been bracing with both hands gripping his shield to block the rain of arrows nearly had his eye pierced by an arrowhead that punched through the shield—he panicked and toppled backward.
No, he nearly toppled. If the veterans on either side hadn't immediately grabbed him, a hole would've been ripped in the formation. Watching a soldier whose first worry in an utterly dire situation was getting chewed out, the veterans flashed easy grins.
"Hey, kid. You hold it like that, you won't die from an arrow—you'll die from the squirrel's tail. Get your head straight."
"Pass the shield over! This one's got a hole!"
The voices were booming, but no one was panicking. Unknowingly, the rookie felt relief at the sight.
These were men who had survived years on battlefields like this. If he just moved the way they told him, it felt like he could make it out alive for sure...
"Down!"
At Ranje's shout, everyone dropped their bodies without a single exception. For the few soldiers whose thoroughly drilled responses couldn't keep up, the veterans nearby used every method they had to flatten them.
Simultaneously, a massive explosion erupted high above the army's heads. A spell that had been defused through spell interference burst apart, scattering embers, and at the same instant, the enemy's offensive faltered for a brief moment.
Not missing that split-second gap, Ranje slammed the ground with her massive club and roared.
"You mangy mongrels!! It's time to get fucked!!"
In response to the utterly vulgar command, the army split apart—and knights carrying a siege ram that could have passed for a temple pillar came charging out.
"Run, you Dickhead Company!!"
"Fucking posting and a fucking nickname!"
"This is all the battalion commander's fault!!"
Just from twenty knights running across the battlefield carrying a siege ram with no wheels whatsoever—borne purely by muscle power—the ground cratered beneath them. Their charge, aura drawn to the maximum, boasted the majesty of a cavalry assault, and it was more than enough to make the Demonfolk defending the walls frantic.
"Goddammit! Magic corps! The ground! Tear up the ground!"
The Demonfolk commander standing on the wall and watching the scene shouted desperately, but spell interference came through right on cue. Several mages were already chanting with blood streaming from their noses, yet even the spell that struck closest couldn't stop the oncoming siege ram.
CRUNCH! As the knights barreled past stalagmite-like rocks bursting from the ground and howled with laughter, the Demonfolk commander ground his teeth and shouted toward the base of the wall.
"Open the side gate!"
That brute-force-looking siege ram tactic had originally been the Demon King's Army's patented specialty, so the Demonfolk commander didn't hesitate before choosing the most certain next-best option. The moment his order fell, the wall gate that had been remodeled after the Demon King's Army seized the fortress swung open, and soldiers wielding massive shields rushed out.
They carried no weapons. Just charging out clutching a single massive tower shield each.
They didn't even need to fight the knights. All they had to do was stop that bullheaded charge that had built up so much momentum, and the siege ram would be out of commission for a good while—they knew that better than anyone, so this was their chosen move.
"Ram them... huh?"
But what greeted the Demonfolk soldiers who'd rushed out with suicidal resolve wasn't a counterattack from the knights trying to protect the siege ram at all costs—it was a retreat.
"As expected, it didn't work."
"Casualties?"
"None. The distance was what it was, and there were far too many veteran soldiers for arrows to cause any damage."
Unlike the middle-aged man at the command post who was nodding as he conferred with the other officers while watching the scene.
Eldmia, who'd been watching this whole spectacle along with them, tilted his head slightly toward a horrified Ragnis and asked.
"Was that the method the Demonfolk tried?"
"...Yes. We didn't have a side gate like that, so the outer fortress was breached."
Just, because they didn't have that side gate.
Watching the horror morph into disbelief, and disbelief into something tinged with resentment, Eldmia gave a slight nod and looked back toward the battlefield.
The fact that what he'd naturally assumed was just generic isekai siege warfare was actually a new-concept siege tactic propagated by the Demon King's Army came as no small shock—but aside from that, it seemed there were no problems yet.
The other side had opened a new horizon in siege warfare and seized Levien. Now it was this side's turn to retake Levien with a new method of their own.
"I guess I'll have to climb the wall a bit."
Good thing he'd been able to rehearse it in advance in the West, he thought as he muttered—and not a single soul understood that one line.