Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Remember My Death?
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There is a vast difference between the perspective of a third party watching from outside the battlefield and that of a participant who forms the front line.
Your vision narrows, your mind clouds, and the pressure of command, proportional to your rank, along with the nerve-wracking anxiety, blur your judgment. After all, few can stand on the line between life and death and maintain the same composure as an observer.
At the very least, even the renowned Lord Milvas, the Sword of Innocence, was no exception to this truth.
“For Saint Magdalena!”
“Charge!”
A deep charge, meant to bring a swift end to a desperate situation.
As they pursued the retreating enemy commander and his cavalry, the distance between them and their own rear guard gradually widened.
At that moment, Dale of Sachsen, who had been retreating, turned his upper body to glance back at Lord Milvas and his knights, hot on his heels. On a galloping horse, he let go of the reins, assuming the posture of a master horse archer drawing a bow.
His fingers were aimed directly at them.
*Magic…!*
It wasn't difficult to predict his action. It was a Parthian shot.
“Ice Bullet.”
*Crack!*
Blue mana swirled from Dale’s fingertips, and a single projectile made of solidified frost shot forth.
“What a pathetic trick!”
Dale may be renowned, but his opponent was a knight capable of wielding an Aura Blade. Before a body that had long surpassed human limits, even a bullet of ice would be of little consequence.
“Heeigh!”
But no matter how invincible the knight, the horse he rode was not.
A warhorse carrying one of the count’s Aura Knights collapsed without so much as a scream.
*Thud!*
One of the knights fell from his horse and tumbled to the ground. While it was nearly impossible to injure an Aura Knight with a mere fall, losing one’s mount in a pursuit like this was tantamount to being unable to continue the fight.
*To have such accuracy from a galloping horse…!*
Lord Milvas could not hide his astonishment at the last strike.
The eldest son of House Sachsen possessed a talent for sword and magic that none could match. But was he not, in the end, just a 3rd-circle mage?
Though a proper mage in his own right, he was still at a level insufficient to ‘pull his weight’ on a battlefield. The gap was even more pronounced for mages, who, unlike knights, did not train from the start with the assumption of fighting on the front lines.
It was not uncommon for even high-ranking mages to be defeated if they allowed an ordinary knight to close the distance.
And yet, this mage was maintaining perfect balance on a galloping horse without holding the reins, accurately sniping a horse with projectile magic?
The projectile magic itself was one thing, but hitting a target with it was by no means a feat of ‘magic’ alone.
It was a display of skill that could not be imitated without a harmony of exceptional horsemanship and archery.
His decision to act as bait himself while holding the heavy responsibility of supreme commander was not born of reckless courage or a bluff.
“Rise, wall of ice.”
*CRASH!*
It was confidence born from his own overwhelming abilities.
A barrier of ice suddenly erupted in the path of Lord Milvas and his charging cavalry.
He had thought he wasn't being careless against the young heir of House Sachsen. He was wrong. He had been ridiculously underestimating his opponent’s capabilities.
The enemy's supreme commander was personally acting as ‘bait’ to truly buy time for his men.
While an entire battalion of Aura Knights was stalled and thrown into confusion by a single young mage…
The enemy cavalry, which had retreated and reformed its ranks, turned its horses around.
To protect their young commander. And to repay Dale for his efforts, for risking his life on the front lines to buy them time.
“Do not let their swords reach the young lord!”
“Be his shield, even if it costs you your lives!”
“Charge!”
Seeing their spirit, Lord Milvas knew instinctively. And he couldn't help but laugh. The enemy was no longer the ragtag unit of Baron Greenbelt disguised as Night Raven Knights.
*A trap within a trap…*
They were the ‘Black Cavalry,’ a force whose reputation he had witnessed and felt firsthand on countless battlefields.
And their goal was by no means to defeat Lord Milvas and the count's Aura Knights.
Count Brandenburg’s official commander, Phillip, was making the worst possible move, over-concentrating the central forces on the right flank and causing the front line to collapse with his own hands. It was Lord Milvas who was pressed for time and growing anxious, and the Black Cavalry’s objective was simply to protect their commander until then.
That very fact fanned the flames of Lord Milvas’s impatience even more.
*I must break through the Black Cavalry and capture the Sachsen heir before the situation deteriorates further.*
In any case, the strongest forces among the Night Raven Knights, the Aura Knights, were not here.
Before they could shatter Baron Perker's left flank and complete their flanking maneuver, he had to capture Dale, who was performing a high-wire act as bait.
“Charge!”
He paid no heed to the state of their warhorses, already exhausted from several gallops. He paid no heed to the fact that their overzealous pursuit had put too much distance between them and the follow-up forces that should have been protecting their rear.
Slowly but surely, the white Aura Knights, who were beginning to be isolated, charged once more.
***
The 1st Cavalry Battalion, led by the Sword of Innocence, Lord Milvas, ultimately succeeded in reaching Dale.
Albeit not in the way they had hoped.
Having been isolated in the heart of the enemy lines after an excessive pursuit, they were now surrounded by the Night Raven Knights of House Sachsen.
*Their habit of overestimating the power of Aura Knights remains unchanged.*
Dale thought dispassionately as he looked at the surrounded Aura Knights of the Order of Saint Magdalena.
As knights fought and accumulated experience and wisdom, it was processed into the form of ‘combat doctrine,’ which came to define the identity of a knightly order.
In his past life, the Holy Sword Master had been his warden, and for that reason, Dale had, for better or worse, seen much of the Order of Saint Magdalena he commanded.
Their strengths and weaknesses, and even many secrets that could not be seen from the outside. What they prioritized in battle, what principles guided their thinking, and how they made tactical decisions.
It was all as clear as the palm of his hand.
Overestimating the strength of Aura Knights was a chronic ailment of the Order of Saint Magdalena.
The image of a Sword Master slaying a thousand foes on the battlefield was, even in this world, closer to fanciful ‘chivalric literature.’ Furthermore, above the Aura Knight was the rank of ‘Aura Master,’ and not even all Aura Masters had reached the level of a Sword Master.
“The Aura detachment disguised as Baron Greenbelt’s knights has broken through the enemy’s left flank!”
“The central cavalry that joined them has broken the enemy’s wing and succeeded in a flanking maneuver!”
“We have captured the left flank commander, Baron Perker!”
Dale listened to the reports from their central and right flanks brought by the messenger and calmly raised his head. As the endless stream of victory reports continued behind him.
“It seems you had very little faith in Lord Phillip.”
Dale spoke, his voice dripping with scorn.
Their reckless deep charge had failed, and Lord Milvas and his knights were now completely isolated within enemy lines. The Aura Knights, once a battalion of fifty, had been reduced to just over a dozen. Those who remained were in no condition to continue fighting.
“From the very beginning… did you set a trap to lure us in?”
Lord Milvas asked in a weak voice.
“The battlefield is always chaotic, and no one can control or predict all the chaos.”
Dale shook his head.
“In the midst of repeated chaos, it is ultimately one’s own foolishness that leads to self-destruction.”
He gazed at the enemy’s main force in the distance, their wings completely broken, surrounded and being annihilated.
The front line had completely collapsed, and screams echoed from all directions. There was the sound of steel against flesh, steel against blood, steel against bone.
“Will you beg for your life?”
Dale asked, with the screams echoing behind him.
“Will you kneel in misery and offer a ransom to beg for your life?”
His face was still hidden by the black helmet, and he made no effort to conceal his blatant mockery.
“To those who kneel and beg for their lives with gold… I shall, in accordance with the great traditions of the Empire, graciously bestow mercy.”
It was common practice for a captured knight to be released upon payment of a ransom. But Dale’s taunts, which fanned the act into an unspeakable humiliation, left everyone unable to answer easily.
“…Don’t make me laugh!”
One of the surrounded Aura Knights spat, as if he would never bend.
“Oh, is that so.”
Dale snapped his fingers.
*Thrust!*
The Night Raven Knights surrounding them thrust their spears without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn't even a scream, just a sound like air escaping a balloon. Blood sprayed like a fountain.
“Then you shall die.”
Dale said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
“And what about you, Lord Milvas?”
“…”
“After all, the one who will bear the full responsibility for the defeat in this battle will be the innocent Lord Phillip, not you.”
Lord Milvas did not answer.
After a long silence, he simply knelt slowly. Forcing himself to endure a humiliation worse than death. The steel plates of his armor clanked as they met.
“…”
It wasn't that he was afraid to die. Nor did he hold his honor lightly. He simply had to survive and report back.
He had to convey that the danger posed by the Sachsen heir far surpassed their imagination.
Moreover, Aura Knights were a precious resource that could not be wasted carelessly. As long as there was still a duty he could perform by living… choosing a dog’s death for the sake of petty pride was by no means an honorable end.
“All of you, kneel at once!”
The Sword of Innocence, Lord Milvas, raised his voice in a roar.
“We surrender in accordance with the traditions of the Empire and demand to be treated fairly as prisoners!”
“So you will kneel and beg for your lives?”
Dale asked, his expression and emotions hidden behind the black helmet. Biting his lip until it bled, Lord Milvas nodded.
Indeed, falling for the enemy's taunts and choosing a meaningless death was likely what his opponent truly desired.
Realizing that his provocations were no longer meaningful, Dale’s smirk vanished as if it had never been there.
Like an actor stepping off the stage after the play was over.
“…”
An ominous silence followed from behind the black helmet. A sinister silence, devoid of any emotion.
“The survivors here,”
Dale finally spoke after the silence.
“There are none.”
“!”
Gasps were heard from all around at the unexpected words.
“Kill them all.”
Even the Night Raven Knights guarding Dale were no exception.
According to the customs of the Empire, it was normal to release captured knights in exchange for a ransom.
Nevertheless, Dale’s voice was incredibly firm, and for the Night Raven Knights of Sachsen, his command was absolute.
There was a fleeting moment of shock, but no hesitation. The virtue of a knight lies in execution, not doubt.
It was a testament to their perfect trust in their lord, a trust made possible by Dale’s charisma.
The Night Raven Knights, clad in black armor, thrust their spears and swords in unison.
*Thrust! Thrust!*
By the time the count’s knights, who had knelt and disarmed, reacted, it was already too late.
All except one man: the Sword of Innocence, Lord Milvas.
He barely managed to snatch his knightly sword, and a pure white aura, like snow, enveloped the blade.
“You think I will fall like this!”
A single flash.
He swung the hilt, and the white aura coiling around the blade exploded outwards. It was a desperate, almost feral strike, yet a monstrous sword swing befitting the reputation of a high-ranking knight.
A display of martial prowess that the current Dale could not even dare to approach. But Lord Milvas’s sword would never reach him.
“Protect the young lord!”
“Do not let his sword reach the young lord!”
*CLANG!*
The black-clad knights rushed to block Dale’s path, offering their own lives as shields.
Dale watched his desperate struggle with an impassive, emotionless expression, not moving a muscle.
Without lifting a finger, he remained purely in his role as the ‘supreme commander’ of the Night Raven Knights on the battlefield.
*Thrust!*
At the end of his final struggle, a sword that had found an opening pierced Lord Milvas’s thigh. His stance crumbled.
*Thrust! Thrust!*
Next came countless spearheads, pinning him in place.
And toward Lord Milvas, impaled by countless blades and rendered unable to move even a finger…
Dale took a step forward.
He leaned in close. And spoke as if whispering.
“—Do you remember my death?”
“…?”
Lord Milvas felt a flicker of confusion at the incomprehensible words.
“I remember your face, there that night.”
Dale continued, unconcerned.
“Your lord plunged a blade into my back, and you were there, too.”
Calmly, he spoke, his words backed by a coldly forged hatred.
“I’ll ask again, young knight.”
At first, he couldn't understand what he was saying at all.
“Do you remember my death?”
But soon after, as his consciousness rapidly faded, a shock so profound it felt as if the blood in his veins was freezing over washed through him.
“Ah, ahhh…!”
Lord Milvas belatedly tried to scream. Or rather, he tried to.
*Thrust!*
A fraction of a second faster, the ‘Shadow Cloak’ disguised as Dale’s black surcoat shot out.
“Gack, keuh…”
A sound like air escaping a balloon echoed. A hollow sound, meaningless to the very, very end.