The Bizarre Love Triangle (6)
As both armies charged at each other, the first thing they did was hurl the weapons clutched in their hands straight at the enemy's front lines.
With barely five meters between them, the sound alone sent chills down the spine as javelins hurtled toward one another, and soon screams boiled up across the battlefield.
After watching nothing but heavy infantry clashes—men layered in shields and thick armor—it felt like a brutally exhilarating melee was finally underway.
And right at the center of it all was her.
"Come at me, you bastards──!!"
Gripping massive two-handed rhomphaia swords in both hands, Erna barreled forward, sweeping aside the warriors charging with spears and maces. No, she wasn't some dainty lady—she was a demon.
Positioned at the forefront of the assault formation, she hurled her spear ahead, then plunged in to shatter their lines like the monster she was.
She's harvesting necks out there.
Trampling over soldiers felled by javelins, every swing of her blade carved bloody arcs through the air, toppling more men. When one of her rear guards dropped to my soldiers' spears, she spat curses and struck back immediately. Her warriors surged in right behind, punching through my formation, and Erna's forces rampaged with a speed that lived up to the term "roaming freely and fearlessly."
Boar's head formation—Svinfylking, right?
Like charging boars, they formed a triangular assault wedge. The lead warrior—the "snout" or rani—tore into the enemy lines, widening the gap until the formation broke through entirely. A classic breakthrough tactic. Her berserkers were smashing through the breaches she'd carved, a fitting strategy for half-beast warriors.
Of course, there was nothing particularly groundbreaking about it. Wedge formations for punching through lines were a dime a dozen—the Empire's knights relied on them heavily. And their weakness was glaringly obvious: a formation laser-focused on breaching ahead meant triumph if it worked, but self-encirclement if it failed.
Knowing that, I'd placed light infantry in the front rank, backed immediately by heavy infantry. I was betting that her reckless charge would smash into my well-armored heavies and grind to a halt.
Sure enough, my square formation held, blunting Erna's assault and sharply slowing her breakthrough. All that remained were her beastkin rearguards. If I could weather their waves, her forces would start taking heavier losses soon enough.
But I sensed something off almost immediately. The beastkin warriors I'd assumed would stall kept shoving my lines back, even as they bled men.
...Something feels wrong.
I knew full well how formidable northern beastkin berserkers were as infantry. In my past life, they'd rival Viking warriors, but with racial traits granting overwhelming physical specs. Few matched Erna's raw specs, though.
Still, I'd risked a frontal slugfest because I trusted my Lusitanian pilgrim militia's ferocity. Coastal raiders repelled by guerrilla hits and ambushes despite their crude gear. Their fighting style was similar, but unlike the beastkin who lost reason in a frenzy, mine could fight more organically. That had to be my edge. Even against Erna, I figured I could bait and intercept her.
But before I could reorganize fluidly after the first clash, my casualties spiked. Then my right flank visibly lagged.
"Ugh... uwaaaah...!!"
Soldiers screamed in retreat. No room for flexible adjustments now—just desperate scrambling to hold the line.
This is outside my calculations... but is it really that bad?
I had to admit Erna's performance was impressive. Personal prowess, charisma sweeping the field. She fought like it was a real battlefield, no hesitation. Her momentum-building charge was masterful. In a true war, she might've crushed my plans effortlessly.
But as long as my southern troops still followed orders, we wouldn't collapse instantly.
I've still got plenty of reserves.
Enough to reinforce the crumbling right, at least. My left and center creaked under pressure, Erna and her berserkers shredding the front, but it wasn't unbreakable. Her brute-force pushback against my counter was unexpected, sure.
Stay calm. Getting swept up like this ruins everything.
The upside? I had my own ace.
Albert's rearguard is Charlotte's problem anyway—I don't need to worry about that.
The imperial princess—my hammer—was riding with the cavalry. So for now, I just had to hold. Until she smashed Albert's forces and hit Erna's rear. That was the anvil-and-hammer premise.
*
Something's off.
Charlotte, holding the rear, noticed the tide turning strangely too.
When she'd agreed to the initial strategy, she'd seen the logic in the baron's plan. Once the enemy mirrored it, swift action on her part meant certain victory.
But Erna—the daughter of the Baiken grand duke—hit harder than expected. The baron had leaned heavier on skirmishers like slingers, which might explain some pressure, but this was beyond that.
Even to her eyes, it transcended individual might or morale boosts from charisma. It was like they were in a different weight class from the start.
Should I reinforce?
Per the plan, while the baron pinned Erna, she was to shatter Ruticia Margrave Albert's rearguard. But with the baron struggling, how long could he last? If he broke before she did, they might lose the mock battle.
"......"
She dismissed the thought instantly. Absurd.
If he crumbles here anyway, it's just another win for me, right?
That crossed her mind first. But deep down, she figured he'd pull some trick and endure. She wanted to see that entertaining side of him—not some weakling begging for help.
"Charge......!"
Ignoring the bloody melee in the center, Charlotte's cavalry thundered toward Ruticia Margrave Albert's advancing forces.
His cavalry met them head-on, lances raised—a challenge the princess wouldn't ignore.
Battle horns blared as both wedges—hers and his—collided. One side's shields bore the Empire's emblem, the other's Ruticia Margraviate's. It was like a civil war erupted among knights, blood and steel entwining.
Knights shattered armor-and-all on lances or tumbled from horses under swords and maces.
"Move, move!!"
Amid them, Charlotte—far smaller than the rest—shouted and swung her blade.
But she realized the clash wouldn't last when she noted Albert's knights were severely outnumbered.
His balanced composition meant fewer cavalry than her cavalry-heavy force, sure. But even accounting for that, it was too few.
And the unease spiked when beastkin infantry from Albert's ranks charged her stalled knights.
The center wasn't their all?
Charlotte hurriedly withdrew her knights, pulling back from the infantry assault. The clash had bloodied Albert's cavalry too—no pursuit capacity. And indeed, they retreated obediently.
From there, she saw the truth: Albert's seemingly vast army was actually quite small. Stretched thin left and right to look numerous from afar. Not even elite-only, yet so few—suddenly it clicked.
That's why the center's getting pushed...!
The "resource exchange with allies" option she'd skimmed when setting units. First time trying multi-team mock battle, she'd ignored it—useless for her anyway.
It let allies loan mercenaries or share deployment points.
If right, they'd exploited it heavily.
If the margrave dumped points on Baiken's daughter...!
Albert fields fewer troops, supports his fiancée's battle fully—like now? She elites up with the influx, aims to crush Hebel Baron from the start? Hands some back for minimal defense?
It fit perfectly.
No time to dawdle...!
As Albert's forces—closing on Erna's, crossbows ready—advanced, Charlotte spurred her mount hard.
"Sound the horns loud! Full charge! We smash their rearguard no matter what!"
Even knowing this, she stuck to the original plan.
Somehow... he'll handle it...! Baron...!
From watching him a few times, she still believed: he'd make it work.