52.
52.
"Roma Invicta! Unconquered Rome!"
"Your Majesty!"
[Dududududu—!]
'Damn it, he's too fast.'
Charging alone, shouting "Roma Invicta!"—a war cry long out of fashion.
Given that everyone ahead of him was shouting Nobiscum Deus—God is with us—the Emperor was clearly drunk on the glory of old Rome.
Hell, they said those fond of drink were all sentimental creatures. Perhaps this man, being Rome's greatest lover of drink, was therefore the most sentimental man alive.
"His Majesty...! His Majesty charges ahead! You fools! Follow His Majesty!"
"For the Basileus—! For His Majesty—! Charge! Charge!"
"Roma Invicta!"
"Your Majesty!!!"
As a mass of men and horses plunged into a battlefield where smaller squares of infantry were already locked together, the situation at the front grew even more chaotic.
Had the Emperor and the commanders directing the front line not received any training in battle? I had calculated countless possibilities over the past three days, but of course, every plan perished the moment an operation began.
Yet even so, the Emperor personally charging into that chaos was something neither the imperial army nor the rebels themselves could have wished for.
'Is this Emperor insane...!? What's he doing in here...!?'
That very thought was plainly written on the faces of the rebels facing the Emperor's charge. They knew it too—if the Emperor fell here, it would be a true civil war, one that could only end with the complete annihilation of one side.
But the soldiers already swept up in the vortex of battle could no longer hear any order to stand still and die upon the Emperor's blade. The already fierce fighting had begun to climb toward a pitch of utter desperation.
"Clear the way! Romans! Clear the way—!"
Yet because the Emperor had cleaved through both friendly and enemy ranks like a wedge, surging forward was easy enough.
At that moment when both armies, equipped identically and looking much the same, had collectively frozen in shock from the sudden event, the Imperial Guard, the Skoll, had exquisitely seized the gap and achieved their first breakthrough. And behind them, my own second breakthrough widened that gap further, tearing the enemy line apart.
"For Hel!"
Up ahead, a golden figure was slashing this way and that. The spears around him, instead of targeting the Emperor, who was seized by the madness of the battlefield, sought to strike his horse. I leaped forward with all the momentum of my charge, soaring over the few horsemen who now formed a classic bottleneck, and landed right before the noses of the enemies clustered around the Emperor.
[Hwoong—! Koom—! Puh-suk! Keuk!]
My axe, driven down with all the force of my descent from the sky, split through frail steel and the soft organic matter beneath it—its power unspent, and it gouged the earth with terrible force.
Boukephalos, the Emperor's beloved steed, already driven to frenzy by its master, was further startled by the sudden blossoms of Örn-like blood. The horse stopped its maddened thrashing only when my rough hand seized the reins.
[Puh-hihihihing—!]
The man in the golden armor, who had been swinging his sword with great enthusiasm without apparently having cut a single foe—judging by the pristine state of his blade—fixed his eyes upon me, his gaze trembling violently. Michael. Even seated on a tall saddle, our eyes were nearly level.
"Helgi Konungr..."
"Basileus Michael. Truly, a most honorable charge. I shall join you."
With Michael staring slack-jawed at the ground where my axe had struck, the warriors of the North fell into formation one after another behind my back.
"Brave Romans of Thrakesion and Opsikion! Kneel before your Emperor! If you do not, you will all die!"
Refil and Oleg took the left, Seutorolpeu and Djur the right, on the Örn. Jarl Yngvar took the center with me. As I signaled my lieutenants with rapid hand gestures and urged the Romans to surrender, I saw signs that the enemy line, shattered by the Emperor's intrusion and my appearance, was beginning to recover. I charged in at once.
"Varangians! Keep your oaths! Forward—!"
[Tadak!]
I discarded my axe, its shaft broken, seized a spear and a single-edged sword from the many scattered around, and kicked against the earth.
"Uwaaaaah—!"
"Konungr Helgi! Konungr Helgi, Son of Hel—!"
"Odin!"
"Hel—!"
It was said that wolves hunted with cunning. And so, in this moment, as we drove forward with pure, brute force, we were more like a pack of bears.
Have you ever heard a pack of bears? If not, look upon this place now. Look upon a thousand bears following their king, all in the shape of a boar's snout, in the shape of an arrowhead, charging the Roman line.
[Bwoooong—!]
[Bwoooooong—!]
The war horns of the Norsemen rang out from all sides at once, and I, surging forth at their very forefront, kicked aside the enemy rank that had already formed up into a shield wall.
[Kwang—!]
"Uwaaak!"
"Keok!"
In an instant, the breath I had deeply drawn left my lungs. The enemy's shield that met my leg shattered, and his body went flying.
Roman soldiers who had swallowed their screams and held firm even when struck by arrows crumbled in a single heartbeat.
[Hwik! Hwoong!]
Whether or not the comrade beside them flew away, their attacks remained faithful to their given task—cutting and stabbing me—and that, in turn, filled me with satisfaction.
'Yes. This is a fight. This is war.'
My eyes had turned red. I was madly digesting every piece of information conveyed by everything around me—the smells, the sights, the sounds, the looks in their eyes, the emotions.
I twisted my head to avoid the spear aimed at my neck, and I lightly stepped upon and leaped over the sword that sought my legs.
'Hup—!'
With a light breath drawn in, I stole away the breath of my enemies.
I drove a spear down into an unguarded chest, and with the descending force of my body, brought a sword down to cleave a helm along with the head inside it.
[Pook! Puk!]
"Keok!"
A broken spear, a broken sword, an enemy helm shattered rather than simply cut.
My emptied hands drew the sword from my waist and swiftly cut down the foes to my left and right.
[Chaeng—! Chwarreuk—! Chwark!]
The enemy's armor split apart in a single stroke, and the soft flesh beneath it had already been laid open with a hideous wound.
"Uwaaak—!"
"Aak!"
Leaving behind the enemies who fell, screaming with the last of their strength, I ruthlessly seized the spear thrust at me—driven more by the fear of a man backpedaling than by courage.
[Hwoong—! Teob—! Kkwak—!]
"D-don't come any closer! Son of Satan!"
A voice, unaware of its own terror.
'I've never had a father like that.'
Though the spear-tip was in my hand, this enemy seemed to have no thought of releasing the shaft he still clutched tightly. I grabbed him by the collar and surged forward with all my might.
"Aaa—roooooos—!!!"
[Dudududududu—!]
Before the force that drove forward like a chariot, the foolish and brave souls who had stood in its way were all bowled over, sent flying, and left to roll upon the ground.
[Puk! P puk! Puk!]
"Ugh! Gak! Gruk..."
The soldier who had become my shield was stabbed multiple times by his comrades' spears, already foaming blood at the mouth and his eyes having rolled back long ago.
Soon, seeing the thick enemy ranks collapse and no more foes standing in my way, I released my grip on the scruff of the enemy I had seized in my left hand.
[Tulsseok—!]
"..."
Demon— Satan— Hercules.
Beyond the soldiers who, each mouthing the most evil and powerful names they could conjure, dared not even think of moving, another enemy rank exuded a grim, tenacious spirit.
'Right. This is an army with discipline. I'm getting quite the education today.'
If the first line was broken through, the second would engage. If the second was broken through, the third would engage. So this was the discipline of Rome.
I raised a hand covered in bright red blood and wiped the liquid trickling down over my eye. The [Sword of Courage] in my grip had not chipped a single tooth, dyed a vivid crimson.
"Opsikion—! Forward! Forward— you dogs!"
[Cheok cheok cheok cheok!]
Beyond the routed enemies, yet another rank approached. Watching the fear and sense of duty warring on their faces, I felt a surge of exhilaration.
"Warriors of Rome—! I, I am Helgi Ragnarsson—!"
A boiling fervor rising from my gut made me unbearable to myself. As I seemed ready to charge forward at any moment, around me, Norsemen who looked much like me gathered and formed their ranks one by one.
"Our Konungr is the strongest!"
"Styrkr—! Helgi Styrkr—!"
"Varangians—! Is anyone weary—!"
When Jarl Yngvar, who should probably mind his age but clung on tirelessly regardless, shouted loudly, the warriors howled like wolves in one voice.
"Aoooooooo—!"
"Au—uuuuuu!"
[Kung! Kung! Kung! Kung!]
I drew the shield from my back and struck it with the pommel of my sword, and one by one, they beat their shields in time with my rhythm.
[Kung! Kung! Kung! Kung! Buuuuu—uuung—!]
"Uuuuuuuu—!"
"Uuuuuuu—!"
The horn blared once more, and the slowly approaching enemy, our allies joining from both flanks, and the low howls of the two Roman armies drawing their shields close to their mouths, all blended into one.
"Varangians! Shield! (Skjold)!"
"Shield!"
[Cheok! Cheok! Cheok! Cheok!]
In that brief moment to catch my breath, my mind, which had by now regained its reason, judged that this was the time to stand firm and hold.
'The cavalry is ours to advantage anyway. The moment we broke through their first line, the enemy's terrain advantage had already vanished.'
We hold, and we win.
"Soldiers of Rome and the Emperor! Brothers! We do not move a single step from here—!"
"Hel—la!"
"A—ros!"
"Nobiscum Deus!"
"Roma Invicta—!"
Centered on the Varangian ranks, the imperial army solidified its defense like a prickly hedgehog.
Inside the warm shield wall reeking of blood, sweat, and other foul matter, I watched the slowly approaching enemy ranks.
'Now the roles are reversed. Let's see how skilled you are.'
Though reason had returned, the raw, throbbing instinct did not die. My ever-thirsty instinct ceaselessly probed the enemy's gaps.
Soon, the enemy's javelins flew first.
*****
The battle now proceeded in a completely opposite manner.
Having blocked the slope, our formation—myself and the Varangians—shattered theirs, and now the rebel ranks slowly approached to drive us from the ground we had seized.
The Roman army, in particular, tended to place the young and hot-blooded in the first line, and the more seasoned and calm in the second, and certainly those now approaching understood precisely what discipline and collective strength meant.
Though their eyes brimmed with fear of me, the soldiers marched forward as ordered.
A strength that simply drew admiration.
'I came meaning to loot their engineering, but I'm learning something even better.'
Rome was a textbook to me.
From the way their city walls were shaped, how they raised their buildings, how they laid roads and arranged houses around them, to how they entertained their citizens and governed their surroundings.
My keen mind analyzed all of that, storing it neatly in a corner of my memory, but the spectacle before me was nothing short of moving.
'This is Rome's power. The power to endure, no matter how many names on the throne change, no matter how many enemies invade.'
But admiration and sympathy were entirely separate matters. It was time to test how long that solid discipline could hold.
[Cheok! Cheok! Cheok! Cheok!]
[Hun—! Huung—! Huk—! Peok! Peo peok!]
"Gak!"
"Guk!"
An approach between infantry was always accompanied by missile weapons.
Despite a battle that by the feel of it had already far surpassed two hours, the light infantry, still vigorous, ran hard and hurled spears and loosed bowstrings toward the opposing lines.
Here and there in our ranks, edged missiles slipped through gaps the shield wall could not cover and struck with a heavy sound, but the wounded were moved back, and the warriors filling their places showed no hesitation.
Life and death on the battlefield were, after all, a coin toss.
Would we not all reach Valhalla anyway? Or else it was into Hel's embrace.
When they drew a little closer, near enough now that pupils could be glimpsed between helmet rims, the Varangians hurled their hatchets, each sized for a thick forearm, with great force.
[Hun! Huung—! Peok! Peo peok!]
The light infantry who had been fiercely fighting with missiles in the space between the approaching infantry and our formation had already pulled back, so the hatchets flew unhindered. They embedded in enemy shields, driving arms down, and sailed further into empty spaces, sending unlucky soldiers sprawling backward.
[Baaaaaaaaaam—!]
"Forward—!"
"Overwhelm those barbarians—!"
"Hold—! Hold—!"
"Do not fall back—!"
Soon, the enemy surged forward at once, having reached the distance I was comfortable with, and we extended our spears long and gathered our shields together to weigh our mass.
[Kung—! Kung! Kung! Kukung!]
Far beyond the clamor of warriors trying to break each other's will by throwing their whole bodies, rather than merely stabbing with swords and spears, out from beyond.
[Urrrrreung— Dududududu—!]
At last, the sound of hoofbeats, the eagle standard fluttering, shook the earth in a single voice.