Chapter 35
Chapter 35
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Gloriously Like Fireworks (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The ground, once turned into a soggy mess by melting snow, had long since dried out and hardened into a solid crust.
Fresh green sprouts covered the fields, and the sky was clearer and bluer than ever before.
It felt like just yesterday that the biting cold wind had torn at their skin, yet the seasons had raced past spring into early summer.
Even so, the northern air remained crisp and cool.
It was the perfect time for a hard ride.
Not because of the cold weather.
Not because of the muddy terrain.
Not because of the tense times.
Nothing could stop them now.
The horses seemed to sense it too.
The Royal Gift Horse beneath him, its body heating up, pawed the ground more aggressively than necessary.
The warhorses pressing close behind neighed restlessly.
Faster. Faster. Farther.
The riders' pure fervor pushed relentlessly at his back.
He spoke up.
"Trot speed."
Don't whine.
"Maintain current speed."
Don't fuss.
It wasn't time yet.
If they were going to unleash that overflowing zeal and ambition ready to burst at any moment, it had to be on Astoria's soil, not Thracia's.
It was strange, really.
There were no markers, no clear divisions.
It was a landscape you could see anywhere—just endless plains.
Yet he knew for certain.
They had just crossed the border.
Maybe it was the sharply honed edge in the air, or the north wind subtly pushing them back.
To him, the difference was vague.
It didn't matter anyway.
"Bluecoats, two-column formation."
"Bluecoats, two-column formation!"
Jamal echoed his order, and the Bluecoats behind repeated it.
"Light cavalry, left and right flanks."
"Light cavalry, left and right flanks!"
The light cavalry from the rear attached to the sides of the Bluecoats in two-column formation.
"Otto. I'm giving you five light cavalry. Scout out any enemy ambush patrols. No engagement authorization needed."
"Understood."
Otto von Bauer responded vigorously and spurred his five light cavalry ahead.
"Scouts forward."
Five light cavalry each detached from left and right for aggressive reconnaissance.
"Front line rotate. First platoon pulls back, second platoon up."
The lead Bluecoats, who had been burning stamina against the headwind, fell back, and the second platoon took the front. The gap left by the second was filled naturally by the third.
"Second platoon back."
When the second fell back, the third came forward; when the third pulled back, the first took the front again.
The front line rotated several times like this.
"North-northeast, two kilometers out. Four Astoria patrol riders spotted!"
"Enemy ambush scouts ahead!"
Otto von Bauer and his light cavalry, out on aggressive recon, encountered the enemy and immediately engaged.
"Patrol riders eliminated!"
"Ambush scouts—six down!"
"Scouts rotate."
The recon riders returned, and twenty light cavalry from the flanks detached.
"Why already?"
He still had stamina left; put him back out front.
Otto von Bauer's face was flushed red, savoring the taste of blood after so long.
"Don't get antsy."
He chuckled.
Come to think of it, Otto had never run ops with them before.
Which meant he hadn't experienced the advance speed of Thracia's cavalry.
"You'll be begging me to let you rest later."
"Hmph!"
Otto von Bauer snorted.
He saw no need to explain further; he'd learn soon enough.
Why Astoria had prioritized neutralizing Thracia's cavalry in past wars.
Why cavalry brigades had fewer numbers than half a battalion of infantry, and why battalion-sized forces were treated as strategic assets, not tactical ones.
Why Thracia's armies had always given them the vanguard.
When his butt went numb, his thigh muscles cramped, and his back felt like it would snap—when he wanted to strip off his armor and leap from the saddle.
That's when he'd understand why Thracia's cavalry was called the continent's strongest.
"So just follow quietly from behind. Don't waste your stamina."
Otto von Bauer still looked dissatisfied but didn't defy the order.
"Natasha."
With the turncoat knight sent to the rear, he called for Natasha.
"Yannick."
The bloodthirsty sorceress appeared instantly at his call.
"There's a city up ahead along this road."
"Yeah yeah."
"Same as always."
She beamed the moment he finished.
Then she eagerly broke from the formation.
"Huh? Where's she off to?"
Jamal, who had been grinning at her, asked belatedly.
"She's got business."
"You sure that's okay? This is enemy territory."
He seemed uneasy about the sorceress heading into enemy lines without escorts.
"Should I send a few guys now?"
"Leave it."
"But..."
"She'll rejoin when it's time. More importantly—halt the unit!"
He ordered Jamal and brought the unit to a stop.
"Rest at will. Dismount if you want."
They'd pushed hard even after adjusting speed and crossing the border; the horses needed a breather.
He dismounted the Royal Gift Horse himself to loosen his stiff body.
"...??"
Astorians passing by gawked at them, eyes wide.
".......! ....!"
Otto von Bauer shouted something at them, and they bowed frantically, faces pale with fear.
They must have mistaken them for a noble's private guard led by an Astoria aristocrat.
This was deep inside Astoria's border, far from the front lines and Bluecoat ops zones.
Someone might suspect the blue cloaks, but no one would imagine Thracia's army openly resting in the middle of the road.
"Even in the rear, someone's bound to recognize us eventually. Aren't we being too casual?"
Captain Lenin of the light cavalry, looking a bit pale, voiced his concern.
"We're here to declare war openly. Skulking like rats would look bad, wouldn't it?"
"True, but this is right in the heart of enemy territory."
Captain Lenin kept worrying, clearly not expecting them to push this deep.
And as he feared, distant travelers spotted them and fled in panic.
"Not yet?"
Captain Lenin asked urgently, but he rested a bit longer before remounting.
"Check weapons. Mount up, all."
The Bluecoats and light cavalry scattered around the road mounted swiftly.
"Bluecoats forward. Three-column formation."
"Light cavalry to the rear."
He issued orders from the lead.
"Unit advance. Trot to canter speed."
The reformed cavalry column started down the road.
They soon overtook the fleeing travelers.
"...!"
"......?"
The travelers paled and screamed.
Then, watching them thunder past, they collapsed in stunned despair.
After riding farther, a decent-sized city appeared in the distance.
"Unit trot."
He slowed and ordered combat prep.
"To the unit! Trot!"
His command rippled through the Bluecoats to the rear.
The city was about two kilometers off.
"Even at full gallop now, we won't make it in time. Damn, the gates are already closing."
Captain Lenin came forward to check the plan.
"Their training looks solid so far, but we'll know better up close."
Instead of arguing, he advanced the unit to about 500 meters from the walls.
Plenty of margin against arrows from the five-meter walls.
"Standing here won't reopen those gates."
"There'll be a response from inside. When we breach, ride straight for the lord's castle."
"...If the gates open, that's no problem."
Captain Lenin twitched at the corner of his eye.
"Just hope we don't ram them."
He told the captain to return to position.
Prepare to follow if the Bluecoats charged.
"He seems really worried we'll smash the gates."
Captain Lenin left, and Jamal snickered.
"Thinks we're lunatics."
"........."
He didn't reply.
"...Even without front-line fortress plating, that's at least 15 centimeters thick."
"......"
"Uh, looks like oak?"
"......"
Jamal's face darkened.
"All units, prepare to charge."
Damn it, I knew you'd do this.
Jamal bellowed the order with a resigned face.
"Advance at walking pace. Narrow wedge formation."
The Bluecoats followed obediently, though puzzled.
They crept forward, gauging the wall distance.
Time for a fully armored heavy cavalry horse to hit top speed: about ten seconds.
Acceleration distance: 70 meters.
Current gate distance: 450 meters.
"Tighten formation."
"Tighten up!"
Archers' max range from the walls: 250 meters.
"Trot."
"Unit trot!"
Time for Bluecoats at full speed to cover 250 meters: 20 seconds.
Assuming skilled archers on the walls: two volleys.
"Pick up speed."
"Unit, speed up!"
To ease the burden on lightly armed light cavalry, the Bluecoats needed to tank up to three volleys up front.
Clop clop.
The two-beat hoof rhythm shifted to three.
"Unit gallop!"
350 meters from the walls, it became four beats again.
"Shields up over heads!"
"Shields overhead!"
And when they hit top speed...
Shwaaaaa!
A rain of arrows fell over their heads.
**
"What of the count?"
"He ordered full precautions against Thracia's infamous heavy cavalry."
The knight asked his adjutant at the messenger's words.
"No signs of a main force or follow-up."
"Then no worries."
No matter how notorious the Bluecoats, with the gates shut for a siege, they could do nothing.
"If they'd charged full tilt from the start and hit before the gates closed, maybe. But now? Impossible."
The knight was confident.
Not quite frontline fortress quality, but Count Muren's domain had solid defenses.
Food stores were good too.
Digging in, they could hold three months, half a year.
"Enjoy the wall view and be off."
He figured they'd stare blankly then leave.
"Hey! They're charging!"
But no.
"They're charging!"
Thracia's heavy cavalry madly rushed the city.
"Archers! Nock!"
Shouts erupted along the walls.
"Loose!"
A hundred archers' arrows blotted the sky.
"All deflected!"
The adjutant screamed.
But it was expected.
Thracia's heavy cavalry wore iron plate nearly knight-thick, their horses likewise armored lumps.
With reinforced shields too—no way arrows would drop them.
Still, good news.
"Fear not! Soldiers of Muren! Trust yourselves and the walls! They can do nothing!"
Even famed Thracia heavies couldn't take a castle without siege engines.
"But why?"
What were they thinking?
Too reckless for bluff; they looked ready to ram the gates.
Though it'd just burst their own heads.
"......"
Yet the knight grew uneasy.
Something told him these notorious Thracia heavies could smash the gates.
Hugging the outer wall, he hastily peered inward.
"Spearmen! To the gate plaza!"
Ordering the spearmen waiting in the open space before the gate, just in case.
"What? That woman."
A strangely dressed woman approached the gates.
So sudden, nearby spearmen milled confused.
The woman pressed close to the wall and looked up.
Flawless white forehead, ruby eyes stared at him.
"Where'd such a beauty...?"
Even from above, she dazzled.
"Danger! Fall back! We're in combat..."
Chivalry kicking in for beauties, he sternly urged retreat.
"........."
The golden-haired woman smiled brightly.
So innocent and beautiful, he blanked out, forgetting the situation.
Judgment delayed.
Rooooar.
Sinister waves emanated from the gates.
"Sorceress! Block her...!"
Too late; the waves filling the area solidified.
Kwaaaaa!
Doom from the sky struck the gates dead-on.
Consciousness snapped.
Just for a moment.
Screeeee.
But in that instant, the world changed.
"......!"
Charred soldiers tumbled from the walls.
"...!"
".....!"
Spearmen wreathed in flames ran everywhere.
"........."
A gut-shot soldier frantically stuffed spilling guts back in.
Screeeeee.
It all seared into his eyes with vicious clarity.
Th-the gates?
The dazed knight finally checked the gates.
"......!"
The golden-haired witch spun giddily, arms wide like dancing.
Behind her, gates choked with black smoke.
"........."
Faint noise pierced the ringing in his ears.
Sp-spear unit...!
He shrieked in terror.
"Block them!"
Sound returned to the tinnitus world.
Dududududu.
Earth-shaking hooves.
Whoosh.
Black smoke parted.
And they appeared.
Astoria's nightmare.
Thracia's devils.
**
"Don't lag!"
"But at this rate, we'll crash into the gates!"
Captain Lenin gritted his teeth at his subordinate's cry.
"There'll be a response from inside!"
"Even if there is, we'll hit first before they open!"
True enough.
Whoever responded inside, it was too late.
No turning now, no slowing.
Falling behind the Bluecoats meant wall archers retargeting them.
And lightly armed light cavalry couldn't survive arrows from high walls.
"Maintain speed!"
Watching the madmen charge gates be damned, he clenched his jaw.
"Cover the Bluecoats' rear!"
His subordinate cursed at that.
Then—
Rooooar.
Familiar waves, then a boom.
"Magic barrage!"
He thought enemy at first, but ally.
"Gates breached!"
Ally magic. Precise strike on the gates, no less.
This must be the internal response the Bluecoat commander mentioned.
Good so far. But...
"Crazy Bluecoat bastards!"
Red flames still licking, black smoke thick—and the Bluecoats charged right in.
No hesitation, flames surging below, smoke above.
"For Thracia!"
Even chanting slogans amid it all—unbelievable.
"Shit!"
Captain Lenin cursed.
"Spears ready!"
Then plunged into the roiling flames and choking smoke.