Chapter 66
Chapter 66
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: The Shadow Rifle
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A war proxy corporation. A mercenary organization possessing operational capabilities far exceeding those of its clients.
But building such a massive organization isn't something that happens overnight. Thus, the first thing they had to do was simple.
To purely raise their reputation and value as a mercenary company.
Their first client was a certain noble looking to hire mercenaries for a territorial war.
At first, he hesitated at the outrageous fee, but soon, he had to gasp when he saw the representative of the mercenaries.
“…!”
The renowned ‘Black Prince’ was there.
Why would the heir to a great lord, destined to lead the House of Sachsen, be acting as a mere mercenary captain? It was incomprehensible. But it was a good thing, regardless.
For a battle with the fate of his domain at stake, spending this amount was not a waste in the slightest.
A short time later.
The forces of two nobles engaged in a territorial war were facing off on a hilly terrain.
And Dale, the captain of the Black Armor Company, was there as well.
Not under the Night Raven symbol of House Sachsen, but under the banner emblazoned with the black armor symbol of the ‘Black Armor Company’. A female knight in custom-made black armor, holding a greatsword, served as the standard-bearer.
The Black Armor Company commanded the army's left flank. And facing them on the enemy's right flank was the opposing noble's prized elite cavalry, their lances aimed.
And the battle began.
The enemy cavalry charged toward the heavily armored infantry holding a defensive formation on the hill.
“Don't break the defensive formation!”
“Hold the line!”
It was time to show the fruits of their sweat, which had poured like rain on the frozen lands of the Sachsen Duchy. But it was at that very moment.
“「Barrett M98B」, 「8.58x70mm」.”
Dale murmured nonchalantly. His shadow cloak fluttered and began to mimic the shape of a firearm, its barrel opening its maw toward the charging enemy cavalry.
This was no mere projection of a formula like Dale had shown before.
That day, after devouring the mana of a 6th-circle black magician, he had generated black mana even closer to the abyss—.
A ‘Shadow Weapon’ of a definite form, incomparable to anything before, was projected there.
《Shadow Rifle》.
Wielding an undeniable weapon from another world, he aimed the muzzle from between the heavily armored infantry. Dale aimed straight for the enemy cavalry commander's helmet and pulled the shadow trigger.
Bang!
“One.”
A sniper round struck. The enemy cavalry commander, charging with burning fighting spirit, collapsed from his horse.
“Wh-what was that?!”
“The commander was taken down in a single blow…!”
“W-was he hit by an arrow?”
“No way!”
Even so, the enemy's right-flank cavalry couldn't halt their charge, and a great unrest began to ripple through their ranks.
“N-no way.”
A 3rd-circle magician, the kind who would participate in a squabble between minor lords, couldn't possibly possess enough destructive power to pierce a knight's heavy armor. That's how it should have been.
“The captain took down the enemy cavalry commander!”
“H-how? Is that magic?”
“I heard a 3rd-circle magician can't pierce a knight's armor!”
Among the heavily armored infantry of the Black Armor Company, cheers bordering on astonishment erupted.
“Reloading.”
As the distance closed, another incantation was formed.
The more clearly and specifically he envisioned the target's image, the stronger its destructive power became. It was incomparable to when he indiscriminately fired shadow bullets on the fly.
Range, destructive power, accuracy—each of these parameters was amplified dozens of times over.
No matter how specialized Dale was in close-quarters combat, he hadn't abandoned the advantages of a magician fighting at a distance.
Bang!
“Two.”
Dale murmured as he pulled the trigger of the 《Shadow Rifle》. A bullet of darkness struck. Each time a bullet landed, a charging cavalryman collapsed.
Helmets shattered, skulls cracked, brains burst, and gray matter splattered. It was, without a doubt, an instant death.
“Three.”
Bang!
Cavalrymen, protected by their armor, could not possibly comprehend the terror of a battlefield where bullets rained down. The fear of not knowing where death would come from. The horror of a comrade right beside you dying instantly from a single bullet.
The bravery that was the lifeblood of a cavalry charge crumbled helplessly before that fear.
“Four.”
Frankly speaking, the number of cavalrymen Dale's bullets took down was not significant. Only a few. But the fear born from those few deaths was another matter entirely.
Fear was spreading like a plague.
The distance closed, and the shape of the emotion lurking within the cavalrymen's helmets—the fear of death, the thought that they might be next—was spreading rapidly.
“Five.”
Bang!
A baptism of death, raining down equally on all. No matter how much they trained for battles where they braced for death, no matter how they honed their bravery, the unknown terror that brought death was not to be taken lightly.
After several shots, the distance between the two sides had closed.
However, terrified by the fear of death, the enemy cavalry had galloped too quickly, and as a result, their formation was in disarray.
The lances of the disorganized cavalry descended upon the heavily armored infantry of the Black Armor Company. But what dwelled in the cavalrymen's spearheads was the fear and dread spreading like a plague. It was not a decisive blow meant to drive a wedge.
“For the captain!”
In contrast, facing the cavalry was a hundred-strong unit of heavily armored infantry whose morale was soaring.
From among the heavy infantry, Lord Yones, their commander, raised his voice.
“For the Black Armor Company!”
“Even if we die, we die in our positions!”
The Black Armor Company roared their motto. It was, quite literally, an unbreakable formation.
***
“In this world, the guy born with a silver spoon wins.”
Dale muttered as if it were someone else's business.
That night. A festival was being held at Baron Roosevelt's castle to celebrate the victory. To commemorate the performance of the Black Armor Company, the heroes of the day.
Wine, meat, and women. A luxury that mere mercenaries rarely had the chance to enjoy was laid out before them.
“As expected of the captain!”
“To think I'd live to be treated by a noble lord in his castle!”
With a woman on his arm, a mercenary roared boisterously, greedily devouring the meat on the table. For mercenaries, could there be a greater paradise?
“This is a sight you'll get sick of seeing, so don't get too comfortable.”
Watching them, Dale added, as if it were someone else's affair.
“Oh my, you truly are Lord Dale!”
“I heard about your exploits in today's battle from my father!”
“They say you single-handedly wiped out the enemy cavalry with your wit, my lord?”
He ignored the daughters of Baron Roosevelt, who were desperately fawning over him.
“You are so handsome and gallant!”
“It was only possible thanks to the efforts of my men.”
It was truly a passion that spared no effort.
And for good reason. The man beside her was the eldest son of a ducal house. As the daughter of a minor noble, she would likely never get another chance to speak to him in her entire life. It wasn't that Roosevelt's daughters enjoyed doing this. It was simply the way people in this world conducted themselves to survive.
The difference between nobles and commoners, and furthermore, the gap between their classes, was no exception even among the nobles themselves. But how was his past world any different? It was probably the same in any world.
It was truly a bitter world.
***
The next morning.
When Lord Yones staggered to his feet, hungover, he found the young captain of their mercenary company sitting before him.
“C-Captain!”
The place where they had gotten dead drunk and passed out during last night's festival was the hall of Baron Roosevelt's castle. Lord Yones and all the other mercenaries were either slumped over tables or sprawled on the stone floor.
“Are you lot men or dogs?”
“I-I'll wake everyone up and assemble them at once!”
Dale muttered as if it were someone else's problem, just as Lord Yones was about to urgently raise his voice.
“No, it's fine. It's not like these guys have ever enjoyed such luxury in their lives. Let them be for a while longer.”
Dale shook his head slightly.
“I was waiting for you. I have something to discuss.”
“F-for me, sir?”
“Yes.”
Dale nodded.
“After we return to Sachsen Castle, I'm thinking of assigning a few people to teach you.”
“P-people to teach me?”
At the unexpected words, Lord Yones tilted his head.
“In the future, once we've built a reputation greater than what we have now, and as long as the eldest son of House Sachsen is the head of this organization… nobles will entrust us with their forces and the entirety of their military operations based on that trust.”
“Y-yes, I suppose they will.”
An organization with operational capabilities stronger than its clients. That was the very purpose of the Black Armor Company.
“But even if that's the case for now, who will lead this mercenary company to victory in war when I'm not around?”
“W-well, since I'm the vice-captain, it would be my duty.”
“That's why you need to learn. How to win battles, how to fight in any given situation, and where to fight. So that the Black Armor Company can become an organization that guarantees 'victory in war' even without me.”
Dale continued.
“As soon as we get back, high-ranking officers of House Sachsen will drill you day and night. And don't skimp on your sword training under our knights.”
“…Why me?”
Hearing Dale's words, Lord Yones asked again.
As the second son of a mere minor noble, he was now acting as a proxy for the military organization of a great noble he couldn't even dare to look up to. He couldn't be ignorant of the weight that carried.
“Because you happened to be there.”
A path to success that even his father and brothers could never dream of was laid out before him.
“Is that really all?”
“What, did you think we were connected by some thread of love?”
Dale answered as if it were someone else's business. It was the same answer as back then.
“Then would you not have cared if it was anyone else in that position, not me?”
But Lord Yones asked again, and Dale replied.
“Who else but you could have been in that position?”
“Well…”
Lord Yones stopped short of speaking and caught his breath. He finally understood the true meaning of Dale's words.
When Duke Sachsen summoned his subordinate nobles to face the great demonic migration, Lord Yones had been there too.
He had left home at sixteen, made a name for himself as a wandering knight, and started from the bottom to become the captain of a hundred-strong mercenary company.
He believed that even the have-nots could defeat the haves. That was why he had challenged the ‘Black Prince’ of Sachsen and lost. At the same time, that was precisely why Lord Yones could be in that position.
“Captain… no, Lord Dale.”
Having grasped the meaning behind Dale's words, Lord Yones quietly knelt. He bowed his head with an indescribable sense of loyalty.
“Yones of Kennet, vice-captain of the Black Armor Company. I will never disappoint you, Lord Dale.”