Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: Chapter 34: The Calculation Must Be Thorough (6)
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The mercenary captain felt a wave of dizziness.
In truth, the idea of luring the enemy in, surrounding them, and then annihilating them wasn't particularly special.
But whether it could actually be executed on the battlefield was another story entirely.
Retreating, advancing, pivoting.
Easier said than done. A single mistake could break the coordination between units, leading to them being picked off one by one.
Even if that didn't happen, the possibility of being completely broken through while luring the enemy couldn't be ruled out. And even if they were lucky enough to fend off the enemy's charge, there was still the chance that the right and left wings wouldn't advance as planned.
To perfectly execute all of this on a rapidly changing battlefield was a gamble.
Even if one were to concede that the Imperial forces were exceptionally skilled at fighting in formation, it wouldn't change a thing.
Because the Imperial army wasn't the only force here.
Leading allied city troops, who had no experience in proper, conventional warfare, let alone complex maneuvers, to attempt such a difficult tactic was sheer madness.
And yet.
“Is this even possible?”
That very act of madness was now on the verge of success.
Of course, it hadn't completely succeeded yet.
The sight of the heavy infantry advancing over the corpses of the enemy was precarious.
“Pikemen! Drop your pikes and clear the ground for the infantry!”
The mercenary captain, snapping back to his senses, roared.
“Clear away everything that's in the way! The guys at the front need a place to stand if they're going to fight!”
The mercenaries, belatedly grasping his intent, hurried the conscripts.
“Uweeegh.”
“Ugh.”
The conscripts, gagging, worked in pairs and threes to drag the corpses away.
The heavy infantry, who had been advancing precariously over the bodies, now stomped firmly on the ground as they pushed forward again.
“Phew.”
The mercenary captain let out a sigh of relief.
But it was far too early to feel relieved.
“Not yet, not yet.”
They had only just overcome one small hurdle; there were still many more mountains to climb.
Since the medium and large-sized species had mostly charged in a straight line, the right wing's forces were able to advance with relative ease, dealing with smaller species like goblins and kobolds.
But at a certain point, the situation changed.
“Kwoooar!”
“Kyaak!”
Just as the proportion of medium-sized species began to rise, the heavy infantry's advance started to slow.
The encirclement was not yet complete.
If they faltered here and the enemy's main force broke through the center first, it would be a catastrophe.
And the forces in the center didn't look like they could hold out for long.
“Grwoooooooar!”
Whenever a troll's roar echoed from the distance, dozens of screams would follow.
He didn't need to see it to know what was happening.
The image of his comrades collapsing helplessly before the immortal monster was as vivid as if he were watching it with his own eyes.
There was no time to dawdle here.
Behind his comrades, the Empire's elite three-rank infantry would be waiting, but against a monster like a troll, there was little difference between them and the conscripts.
Before monsters that could tear human flesh apart with their bare hands, what good was a shield wall? What good were shields?
To make matters worse, some of the smaller species, pushed this way and that, began to sneakily retreat.
It was a complete disaster.
If they were allowed to fall back, they would almost certainly target the flank of our gradually pivoting forces.
Unfortunately, the falcon had not yet fully closed its wings, and there was nothing in the rear to stop them.
The heavy infantry seemed to have no strength to spare.
There were a considerable number of troops behind the front line, but pulling forces from there would make the encirclement dangerously thin.
“Pikemen, with m—...”
He had to throw in even the half-baked conscripts to stop the smaller species from flanking them.
But before he could move the conscripts, the Imperial forces acted.
“Ignite!”
A clear voice, out of place on the battlefield.
It was the young centurion's voice.
“Throw!”
A portion of the Imperial troops hurled the pouches they wore at their waists.
Fwoooosh.
Flames suddenly erupted in the enemy's rear.
It was an absurd situation.
What could possibly burn like that on a plain saturated with moisture?
But there was something.
Those things—spears or flags, he couldn't tell—that the Empire's light infantry had thrown right after the battle began.
The obstacles densely planted along the path the enemy had taken were now burning fiercely.
*Sniff, sniff.*
“...Oil?”
The mercenary captain's eyes widened at the foul stench of oil that belatedly assaulted his nostrils.
He had thought it was just an improvisation to slow the enemy down, but it turned out to be a trap to cut off their retreat.
Only then did he realize.
It wasn't that the wings had failed to close.
They had never intended to close them in the first place.
“Kieeeeeek!”
“Kkyaeng!”
Horrific screams echoed.
A moment later, the acrid smell of smoke filled his nose.
That was the beginning.
“Burn them all!”
As soon as the young centurion's command fell, countless flaming pouches flew over the heads of the heavy infantry.
Fwoooosh!
Flames shot up from all sides.
“Kraaaaaaaah!”
The non-human species, engulfed in flames, screamed and thrashed about.
There could be no hell worse than this.
The only consolation was that the hell unfolding before his eyes had been prepared for the enemy.
But the situation was too dire to leisurely appreciate the infernal scene.
“Grwoooooooar!”
With thundering footsteps, monsters three times the size of any able-bodied man appeared.
They were trolls.
Four in total.
It seemed a few of the ones that had headed for the center had finally turned this way.
“Dammit...!”
A terrible image flashed through the mercenary captain's mind.
He envisioned the heavy infantry's line collapsing as they were trampled by the trolls, followed by the countless slaughter of the half-baked conscripts.
Just then.
*Thud.*
A light footstep was heard.
Two figures, one large and one small, ran across the shoulders of the heavy infantry as if performing acrobatics.
One was the knight who had annihilated the non-humans chasing the scouts and returned nonchalantly, and the other was...
“Why is that kid...?”
The young centurion.
The mercenary captain was completely dumbfounded.
He couldn't comprehend the situation—a commander who should be leading his troops was suddenly charging toward the enemy.
While he stood there blankly, the two continued to run.
The knight was the first to leap into the enemy lines.
He disappeared from view, hidden between allies and enemies, but it wasn't hard to follow the knight's path.
*Fwoosh.*
A brilliant flash of light, incongruous with the gloomy weather, erupted.
*Splat.*
And a fountain of blood shot up.
A spray of blood, accompanied by a flash of light, moved in a straight line toward the troll.
“Grarrararara!”
The troll, sensing the unusual momentum, let out a monstrous roar and slammed down its massive club.
*Swoooooosh.*
Despite the tremendous force, the knight neither stopped nor changed direction.
He simply continued to run straight ahead.
*CRASH.*
An explosion of sound erupted.
“Keeeegh!”
“Kuaargh!”
The screams of the unlucky non-humans caught in the blast echoed across the battlefield.
Immediately after.
“Gruh?”
The monster's head and neck began to separate.
The troll frantically grabbed its neck with both hands.
As if doing so would reattach the severed head.
It was a futile gesture.
Fwoooosh.
Flames suddenly erupted, cascading down from the troll's head.
That was the end.
*Thud.*
The troll's head finally fell.
Its flaming torso flailed before collapsing grotesquely.
An unfittingly empty end for a monster that could devour one or two well-trained centuries without so much as a burp.
A similar scene repeated itself.
*Swoosh, CRASH!*
A swing of a club that wouldn't even connect.
*Thud.*
Grabbing a dislocated head.
Fwoooosh.
Flames erupting out of nowhere.
In an instant, three trolls were dead.
“Ha.”
The mercenary captain let out a hollow laugh at the unbelievable sight.
After witnessing one astonishing scene after another, he no longer had the energy to be surprised.
“One got through!”
Standing there, laughing emptily, he was snapped back to reality by an urgent shout.
One of the trolls had gotten dangerously close to the shield wall.
“Ah...”
Unfortunately, the knight was too far away to hope for his help.
Unless a miracle occurred, there seemed to be no chance for the poor heavy infantry to avoid disaster.
But sometimes in life, miracles do happen.
This was one of those times.
“Grwoooar?”
The troll, which looked ready to smash through the shield wall at any moment, suddenly froze and fumbled at the back of its head.
Then, it collapsed to the ground.
“Burn it!”
A clear voice called from the distance.
A few Imperial soldiers threw flaming pouches.
“Graaaaaaaaagh!”
Engulfed in flames, the troll shot up and ran off in a random direction.
It didn't get far before it fell flat on its face.
“Ha.”
The mercenary captain laughed like a madman.
He thought to himself.
They called it immortal and all that, but it seems it wasn't as ferocious as the rumors claimed.
It didn't take long for him to realize how utterly wrong that assumption was.
“We've wiped out the enemy!”
“Victory is ours!”
The soldiers erupted in victorious cheers.
Watching them, the mercenary captain collapsed to the ground.
His hands and feet were trembling.
In the final stages of the battle, everyone, from the front lines to the rear, had to fight like madmen.
The Imperial forces, worried that the trapped enemies would fight to the death, had stealthily opened a gap in the encirclement, and it was his and the conscripts' job to deal with the frantically fleeing non-humans.
But the real exhaustion wasn't physical.
“...My heart can't take this. I can't travel with the Imperial army.”
He felt as if he had aged decades in a short time.
The other conscripts didn't look much different.
“Uweeegh.”
“*Cough, cough.*”
Whether it was from the nauseating sight of the charred corpses or from the extreme fatigue, the conscripts were busy emptying their stomachs.
They were all a mess.
But compared to the forces in the center, they were in better shape.
At least they were still alive.
Most of those who had held the center were dead.
If you included the wounded, it was fair to say the center had been virtually wiped out.
“Uuugh.”
Rocarno Matiasi was also among the wounded.
His prized iron armor was now scrap metal, and his needlessly ornate shield was gone, leaving only a broken arm dangling.
“...A formidable foe, but in the end, I was the one left standing.”
Only after hearing his excuse-like tale of valor did he realize Rocarno Matiasi's injuries were sustained during his struggle with a troll.
One person could slice them up with a single sword stroke, while another became a wreck just trying to take one down.
Was that one abnormally strong, or was this one particularly weak?
The mercenary captain glanced for a moment in the direction of the Imperial forces.
“Alright, repeat after me. Trolls are money.”
“Trolls are money!”
“Not a single part of a troll goes to waste.”
“Not a single part of a troll goes to waste!”
“Good. Keep that in mind, and let's get to work.”
“Commence work!”
The young centurion, covered in blood, was teaching his soldiers a bizarre chant.
From his current appearance, he seemed like some crazy kid, but that was just a superficial impression.
The troll that had faltered and collapsed, clutching the back of its head at the critical moment, turned out to be the young centurion's handiwork.
If it had been just one, he might have thought a stray arrow from afar had luckily pierced the monster's head. But that wasn't the only troll the centurion had taken down.
One troll with the tendons in its ankles and wrists severed.
And the one currently being dismantled by the soldiers was also one he had caught.
A squire, not even a knight yet, had taken down two trolls by himself, all while commanding his troops.
Meanwhile, the actual knight had abandoned his command and barely managed to kill one.
And only after getting beaten so badly his precious iron armor turned to scrap.
In truth, he knew.
That, too, was a great achievement.
The damage sustained by the Imperial forces on the left flank was proof.
Just two of them.
The damage inflicted by two trolls before the Imperial knight arrived was immense.
The encirclement had nearly collapsed.
As rumored, trolls were indeed terrifying monsters.
Rocarno Matiasi's skill in taking down such a monster alone was clearly greater than he had expected.
“But...”
The comparison was so overwhelming that his achievement couldn't help but lose its luster.
“If only I had my blessing...”
Watching the knight from the frontier drone on with what might have been excuses, the mercenary captain quietly backed away.
He had come over out of a sense of camaraderie, but it didn't seem like he'd see anything good by lingering.
Indeed, the eyes of his surviving comrades were filled with hostility as they looked at him.
*The bastard who only pretended to fight from a safe position while we were fighting for our lives.*
That's clearly what they were thinking.
It seemed they had already forgotten whose fault it was that they had been assigned to the right wing.
“You survived?”
As he was trudging along, someone spoke to him.
“From the look on your face, it seems you've already found the answer to my question.”
It was the young centurion.
“When this is over, head west.”
To the mountain range connecting the west and the central regions.
Find the Relief Knights there.
“...A knightly order, you mean?”
“Consider yourself lucky. It's an order backed by His Highness the Crown Prince.”
He thought he had no energy left to be surprised, but he was startled yet again.
“I'll write you a letter later. Give it to them along with my name, and they'll find a suitable position for you.”
“Th-thank you.”
“It's too early for thanks. This will only mean something if you survive until the end, won't it?”
“Still, thank you.”
He bowed his head repeatedly, expressing his gratitude.
“The remaining battles will be quite harsh.”
The young centurion waved his hand dismissively.
“So, survive until the end. Pascal.”
Then he turned away.
The mercenary captain, Pascal, who had been bowing as he saw him off, snapped his head up.
“Huh? How do you know my real name...?”
How on earth did he know his name, which even his comrades only knew as ‘Kal’?
He wanted to ask, but the other person was already gone.
* * *
“He looked so young, I almost didn't recognize him.”
I recalled the mercenary captain I had just parted with and smiled with satisfaction.
「Yanick the Mercenary King's Right Hand」
「Pascal the Immortal」
Pascal was the one who had informed Yanick about what happened on the 13th Front, and he was the captain of the elite Crows.
He was also a figure with whom I had various connections.
Although he was still clumsy and unrefined, unlike in my past life, he was definitely the Pascal the Immortal I knew.
Knowing that made me incredibly happy.
“Keh.”
Sorry, Yanick. In this life, let's find you a different right-hand man.
* * *
A great victory against an enemy of unprecedented scale.
The highly encouraged commanders asked for the next plan of action.
“This time, we attack.”
On the spot, I laid out the entire plan I had prepared in advance.
I went on about this and that, but the core of it was simple.
It was time for the careless ones who left their homes empty, oblivious to the dangers of the world, to learn the importance of locking their doors.
In other words.
“Let's clean them out completely.”
Ah, let's go rob an empty house.