The Thunderous Charge
The enemy wheeled around swiftly, spreading out in a wide formation. The advantage of openly encircling us like this was that the battlefield expanded, allowing them to attack from more varied angles. Their commander was probably most concerned about that low hill on the left, held by Galbaginus and Caius. Ignoring it to surround my main force would leave their backs exposed and itchy. But committing forces to seize the hill would mean our steadily advancing center and right wing became a nuisance. So, they'd chosen the textbook approach: stretching their line thin. I understood it, but it wasn't a good method against me.
"Wolfmaer! Now! Sound the charge!"
"Y-yes? Right!"
Startled by my sudden order to charge after advancing the troops, Wolfmaer hurriedly relayed the command to Hereward. He'd gone through a similar shock but nodded firmly upon seeing me at the forefront. He blew the horn with all his might—
[BWOOOOOOM---!!]
"Charge!"
I dismounted from the precious chariot—little more than a mobile platform and javelin magazine to me—and planted my feet firmly on the earth, striding forward powerfully. My thunderous voice echoed, and the Auxilia warriors responded with fervor, surging ahead.
"Wotan!!!"
"Artoriiiuius!!!"
"[Death to the enemies! Glory to the warriors!!]"
"[Ancestors! Behold us!]"
[BWOOOM— BWOOOM—!!]
Mighty horn blasts rang out from all directions behind me as I hurled my first javelin.
"Hup!"
[FWOOM!]
The snap of my throw ripped through the air.
[WHOOSH! THUD!]
"Aaaagh!"
True to their textbook formation, a line of the enemy's thickly armored center crumpled beautifully along my javelin's path. My second throw targeted the boldest foes charging ahead—their eyes widening in shock as it arced overhead. Lightly clad skirmishers, likely javelinmen from beyond the western sea, judging by their scant attire.
"Die!"
[BOOM!]
I put some real malice into this one, hurling it harder; the whoosh was fiercer. Infused with emotion, the javelin streaked like a black bolt, painting the sky and leaving a vivid tail of dying screams in its wake.
"Ugh!"
"Argh!"
"Gack!"
"Squeak!"
Skirmishers naturally spread out as they advanced, but some inevitably caught the javelin's trajectory—torso, head, limbs. The unlucky ones collapsed in agony or died instantly, screaming. The key in moments like this was spotting and killing those who stepped forward despite the freakish anomaly of my throws, showing courage.
"[Muwa's warriors do not retreat! Cowards die by my hand! All of you, hurry—]"
"You!"
My third and final javelin soared skyward.
[BOOM!]
[SWISH!]
"Ah—"
[CRUNCH! THUNK! SPLAT! SMASH— BOOM!]
The garishly adorned barbarian warrior accepted his fate with a dazed expression, becoming my javelin's offering. It pierced his forehead precisely, obliterating the head of that needlessly brave fool. Losing no momentum, it felled the line of barbarians strung out behind him.
"Wha— wh-what—?"
"[Pe-Pergal! Pergal!?]"
Indeed, a more important barbarian among them. The foes stared in dismay at their leader's headless corpse, their ranks visibly shaking. If they'd possessed our discipline and training—unshaken by a commander's death—I might not have bothered with the throw. My Auxilia's charge would have lost some steam. That might have introduced a variable. But humans aren't machines, and soldiers are hypersensitive to morale, their efficiency fluctuating wildly.
"Don't stop! Keep running!"
"Oooooh!"
"Artorious!!!"
"Yaaah!"
Grabbing the massive club slung behind me, I roared. The warriors, erupting like a volcano, answered in unison. I sprinted faster than any, overtaking the fleeing western sea barbarians. Soon, I locked eyes with those peeking over shields and helmets—eyes gripped by fear after three javelins, three anomalies.
"No grudges!"
[THUD-THUD-THUD-]
My strides were long, my speed rivaling a full gallop. They'd never faced a man like this; misjudging my closing distance proved fatal.
[CRASH!]
"Guhk!"
My full-powered swing sent three men flying skyward like a lie. Shields shattered, scattering; chainmail fragments twinkled as they fell. They were unconscious or dead on impact.
[WHOOSH— SPLAT! THUD! CRUNCH!]
"...Wha—"
"...B-block it!"
"How the hell do we block that?"
The Dumnonii had faced Rome for nearly 400 years, yet up close, they looked no different from us: similar helmets, shields, armor, spears, long swords at hips. All the more reason to end this with minimal blood. To do that, I had to crush their fighting spirit outright.
"You try blocking this!"
"Eh—"
[CRASH!]
I blasted away the fool bravely leveling his spear at me. Enemy eyes, staring blankly at yet another man soaring skyward, began accepting reality—this wasn't a dream, but harsh truth.
"R-run—"
"B-block! Block it!"
"Attack! Attack!"
Contradictory cries erupted, but all eyes on me held terror. Experience told me troops in this state were half-broken already.
[THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-]
"Ha."
Unless their commander tried to reverse it.
"Wolfmaer! Hereward! Enemy cavalry! Javelins! Javelins!!"
"Arrrgh! Die!!"
[CRASH!]
"Gack—"
"Hereward! Javelin! Shield! Javelin! Shield!"
"Y-yes! [Javelin ready! Javelin ready! Shields up!]"
"Raaagh!"
"Get lost!"
[CRASH!]
"Guhk—"
Smashing berserk chargers into the dirt, I bellowed in all directions. My Auxilia, eyes wild like the enemy, snapped to and planted shields.
[CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!]
[RUMBLE-RUMBLE-]
Vibrations from afar closed in instantly. So this was the famed Roman cavalry charge.
"This'll be fun."
Red battle-lust coiled around me; I licked my lips. Heightened clarity sharpened my mind amid surging adrenaline, even joy.
"Come on! Rome! I'm Artorious! Come take my head!! Hahaha!"
[CRASH!]
I flung a mindless drone far off, arms wide, laughing grandly. In response, the Roman medium cavalry thundered back as they closed.
"Pro Vortigerno! Vortigern!!"
"Ad gladios!!"
"Victoria!!"
Good. That spirit. Satisfying.
"Hahaha!"
"[Loose! Loose!]"
[WHOOSH— WHOOSH-WHOOSH— WHOOSH-]
Heavier, duller than arrows: javelins filled the sky, mixed with hand axes and shield darts. Roman-barbarian mix—less accurate than bows, but heavier.
[THUNK! CRUNCH! SPLINTER! SMASH!]
"Guhk!"
A rider charging head-on took a javelin to the throat, tumbling.
[NEIGH!]
"Whoa—"
An axe severed a horse's ankle; rider airborne.
"Tch!"
Another blocked a dart with his shield, whipping his mount harder. All glared with manic eyes. Thrilling hostility electrified me. Paradoxically, their vivid killing intent made me feel utterly alive.
"A century too early!"
[CRUNCH-]
Gripping my massive wooden club two-handed for maximum reach, I swung upward.
"Die!"
[SMASH! CRUNCH! SPLINTER-SPLINTER-]
One swing shattered the spear aimed at my heart, snapped the horse head lunging for mine, and pulped the rider's twisted face beyond. Spear to dust; horse neck snapped, vomiting blood as it folded. The head spun midair from impact.
[THUD! CRUNCH!]
[WHOOSH-]
[CRUNCH!]
I met incoming riders head-on: snapped spears, blasted horse-and-rider, or uppercut necks.
"Raaagh!"
"Die!"
"Yaaah!"
Facing endless challenges, I never yielded a step. Their courage thrilled me. A smile might've crept onto my face.
[THUNK! CRUNCH! SPLINTER! NEIGH! CRACK!]
With each burst, tear, smash, launch, desire for this immense power consumed me. If I had just five turmae of such heavy cavalry. A hundred. Two hundred. Nothing would be impossible.
"More! Show me more! More! I won't run! Come kill me! Come on!"
[WHOOSH— SWOOSH— WHOOSH-]
[SPLATTER-]
Swinging wildly, my club now whipped empty air. Blood and flesh had long flown from its ferocious momentum.
"Heh—"
Sweat beaded, but over already?
"More!"
Unsated thirst burned.
"...Haaa—"
I exhaled deeply, quelling the impulse overtaking me. Snapping from battle-madness, I scanned swiftly. Mangled man-and-horse littered the ground amid snapped spears and chainmail shards. I'd blunted their final gambit.
Glancing back, my Auxilia had faithfully guarded my rear without retreat. Painful, but infantry can't emerge unscathed from heavy cavalry. Casualties visible, but few—thanks to me drawing all aggro forward.
Instead...
"..."
"..."
Their dazed stares felt familiar. Yes, my Avalonia troops, my warriors, first fought alongside me with those eyes—matching my moves instinctively.
[CLIP-CLOP-CLIP-]
Heightened senses caught retreating hoofbeats afar. Turning predatorily, I saw non-charging riders fleeing the field.
Running away.
Ridiculous. Surely the enemy commander. Retreat where? Better surrender outright. Flee alone? How would I spare you next time?
Thoughts swirled, but I shook my head clear, refocusing on battle.
"Wolfmaer! Hereward!"
"Here, Magister militum!"
"Yes!"
Both quick-witted by nature, now rigid like slaves before a harsh master. Chuckling, I issued orders to the approaching pair.
"Accept those who drop weapons and surrender. Kill the rest. Hereward, take half and aid the right wing! Understood?"
"Half! Right! Got it!"
...Yeah, that'd do.
"Move out!"
"Yes! Dominus Artorius! [1st and 2nd maniples! Follow me! Artorius commands it!]"
"Artorious!"
"Artorious!!"
The Auxilia's momentum as they rushed off made enemies toss spears and swords. Beduerus would mop up easily. Resistance expected on their right (our left), more elite (heavier armor).
"Wolfmaer!"
"I'll lead the remaining Auxilia against their right wing! Encircle with Centurio Galbaginus and end it!"
Perfect.
"Excellent!"
[CLAP!]
"Artorious! Invictus!"
Wolfmaer saluted my name and title like a rallying cry, leading the rest to annihilation. Their right wing, seeing their leader flee, hurriedly discarded arms. Battle over. This one, at least.
"Whew—"
[SNORT! CLIP-CLOP-CLIP-]
"Hm?"
Exhaling excess elation and regret, I stood a moment when Maverick and his handlers (Dallas, Ochu, Luchu) approached with the chariot. Fearless now, they trotted through corpse-strewn gore, tails wagging. Chuckling at the sight, I climbed aboard.
[SNORT!]
Maverick, knowing victory better than anyone, strode proudly toward Caer Cadwy, hooves kicking high.