Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: As Gloriously as Flames (2)
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The vision choked with black smoke cleared sharply.
The world visible through the narrow visor was a uniform crimson black.
In the very midst of it, Natasha was dancing.
Blood and chunks of flesh littered the surroundings, screams and wails echoing without end.
Fluttering.
She alone seemed to exist in another world.
Spotting me, she froze in place.
Then, as if begging to be held, she stretched out both arms.
Swoosh.
I leaned my body to one side and extended a hand.
Squeeze.
As if she'd been waiting, Natasha threw herself into my arms.
I gripped her tightly with one arm to keep her from slipping off and raised my lance over my shoulder with the other.
-......!
A knight whose helmet had flown off somewhere, his face half-melted, charged straight at us, exposing it fully.
I drove my lance straight into the center of his tattered breastplate.
"1st Platoon! Skirt along the left wall! 2nd Platoon, take the right wall!"
I discarded the lance and drew my sword.
"We meet at the lord's castle!"
"If we even knew where that lord's castle was attached...!"
"Where the flames rise the highest—that's the lord's castle!"
Jamal and the other Bluecoats split left and right in unison.
"Otto! I'll attach 3rd Platoon to you—break through the obstacles with them! The lord's castle is..."
"Where the flames leap the highest!"
"Go!"
Otto von Bauer and 3rd Platoon's Bluecoats surged straight ahead.
"Captain Yannick! What will you do?"
Captain Lenin, breaking away from the light cavalry ranks that had entered a beat late, asked with a frantic expression.
"I'll lead the way."
"Whatever method you use to guide us, please make it normal this time! It's bad for my heart!"
With that, the captain rejoined his light cavalry formation.
Thud thud thud thud.
I glanced at the light cavalry charging toward the center of the fortress, then spurred my horse toward the walls.
"Are you hurt?"
"Yeah. A little."
I checked Natasha's condition in the meantime.
"That was too dangerous this time."
"But setting it off after seeing it with my own eyes is way more precise."
She leaned her head against my hard breastplate, looking up at me.
Her face seemed to ask, Did I do good?
If it went wrong, Yannick would be in trouble.
"......Hold on tight."
Instead of responding to her expectation, I wrapped my arm firmly around her waist and secured her.
We headed for the wall.
The spiral staircase winding around the cylindrical turret would have been impossible from the front lines, but this was the rear.
The straight stairs fully exposed to the outside were narrow, but not so much that the Royal Gift Horse couldn't climb them.
Neigh!
The Royal Gift Horse snorted roughly once, then began bounding up the inner wall's stairs.
With the gate already breached and all our troops through, no enemies were coming down from above.
Thanks to that, I reached the top of the wall without swinging my sword even once.
-......?
-......!
The Astoria soldiers up top looked better off than those at the gate below, but they were still a gruesome sight. Spotting me, they shrieked and bellowed.
"Don't fall off."
"Okay."
I released the arm around her waist and pulled the shield from my saddle, raising it in front.
Then I began galloping along the wall.
With the Royal Gift Horse, fully clad in barding, charging on the already narrow wall, the enemy troops panicked.
No need to swing the sword.
Just running on the cramped wall was enough.
Enemies struck by the horse died without even screaming, while a few terrified ones hurled themselves off the wall.
Scree!
A sharp whistle cut the air as an arrow grazed past me.
I checked the direction.
Beyond the curved wall, archers were forming ranks.
"Royal Gift Horse!"
No sooner had I spoken than the horse began zigzagging acrobatically along the wall.
Just then, the archers loosed a volley toward me.
Ting ting ting.
The kite shield, wooden with iron plating, deflected the arrows one after another.
One skilled shot came straight for my face.
I ducked my head.
Clang!
It bounced off the polished top of my helmet.
By the time I raised my head, I was right in the archers' faces.
-......!
I trampled the ones who'd discarded their bows and fled.
This repeated several times.
In the process, I finally secured a suitable position.
The wall closest to the lord's castle—ornate rather than functional, unlike a fortress tower.
"Natasha."
"Okay. Leave it to me."
She fidgeted for a moment, then extended both hands toward the lord's castle.
A grating wave rippled out, and the air around the distant lord's castle began to shimmer.
The prelude to bombardment.
Kwaaaaa!
At last, calamity rained from the sky.
Boom!
A roar echoed, and flames erupted.
A massive blaze visible from anywhere in the fortress.
By the time I rejoined the Bluecoats, everything was already over.
The lord had been crushed when the bombardment hit, and all the soldiers had fled.
I set the place ablaze and retraced our path to the gate.
No enemy troops blocked us until we fully exited the fortress.
The few we encountered were too busy fleeing in terror.
Thus, we slipped out without any real fighting.
The Bluecoats, tense to the end for any mishaps, finally raised their visors and exhaled long.
"A great victory!"
Captain Lenin shouted, brimming with excitement.
We'd razed a proper noble fortress, with almost no friendly casualties beyond a handful of wounded.
Their resistance amounted to a few arrows at the start—hardly anything.
We and the Bluecoats had blocked even that, so any light cavalry losses would have been the real surprise.
I was almost curious how the wounded got hurt.
Anyway, a great victory, as the captain said.
"There's a suitable camping spot not far from here."
Led by the light cavalry scouts, we resumed our slow march.
Horses and riders still had energy, but no need to push.
We'd crossed the border from Kiligrad, infiltrated deep into the rear, and razed a fortress without rest.
The battle adrenaline lingered now, but fatigue would hit soon.
Snore, snore...
Amid the low hoofbeats came faint snoring.
Natasha.
She'd been nodding off before leaving the lord's castle, and now she'd fully dozed.
A naturally frail mage who'd crossed the border, infiltrated enemy lines without rest, and cast massive spells repeatedly—she deserved the exhaustion.
Her lips moved as if savoring a good dream; her expression blissful.
Suddenly, I wondered.
What dream was she having?
"......"
A vicious thought flashed through my mind, making me shudder.
In the meantime, we reached the light cavalry's suggested camp.
I wrapped her gently in the blanket and laid her on a flat spot without waking her.
Clunk.
I removed my helmet.
Roughly swept back my sweat-matted hair, knelt, and began shedding armor pieces.
I left the breastplate, vambraces, and greaves on.
Not fully off, but enough for real rest.
Everyone but minimal guards looked the same.
Nod.
I exchanged silent glances with the Bluecoats and lay down.
Thus, we spent the night deep in enemy territory.
The next day dawned.
"Ugh."
I woke even more stiff than expected.
Like a heavy stone crushing my body.
"......?"
Ah, Natasha.
Somehow, the one I'd bundled neatly in the blanket was now asleep with her cheek on my chest.
The hard breastplate should've been uncomfortable, yet her face was utterly serene.
"Natasha."
She didn't stir despite several calls.
No choice—I got up, ignoring her.
Thud.
She tumbled to the ground, rubbing her forehead, then looked at me.
I glanced at her beaming smile and donned the armor by my head, piece by piece.
"Mount up!"
Another day began.
The Astoria southern army commanders were at a complete loss.
While their attention fixed on Thracia's unprecedented provocations, Kazan moved.
Caught by surprise, the Kazan-front legions suffered devastating losses.
Several fortresses fell to Kazan too.
"This won't do. If I leave command to those idiots, the entire west falls to Kazan. I'll go command personally."
Commander-in-Chief Oscar von Nightheart left only his aide and hastily led his personal unit toward Kazan.
"Don't take your eyes off Thracia's movements for a second."
He repeatedly stressed monitoring Thracia.
And soon enough, as he'd predicted, Thracia moved.
"Cavalry from Kiligrad sortied! Scale: company to battalion max! Bluecoats spotted at the vanguard!"
But the southern army commanders didn't panic.
They'd long anticipated Thracia launching some action in full readiness.
And as always, Bluecoats leading the charge was expected.
Unlike the Kazan legions blindsided, they were fully prepared.
Despite endless whining messengers from Kazan, the commander-in-chief steadfastly left mage corps and crossbowmen on the Thracia front.
Thracia heavy cavalry could at best snag a scout unit or unlucky supply train.
The Astoria forces were primed.
Yet Fabian Franz, acting southern commander in the boss's stead, felt deeply uneasy.
When had it started?
When Kazan struck their rear out of nowhere?
When his superior headed to Kazan?
No.
"We must find them fast. We can't let Bluecoats rampage through our territory."
After the Bluecoats departing Kiligrad vanished mysteriously.
"The cavalry commander is Yannick—that same one who ruined our victory with just dozens of riders. An enemy we absolutely can't underestimate."
More precisely, after learning who commanded that cavalry.
"Just in case, send messengers to the rear too—alert them."
He might target the rear, not the front.
As expected.
"Baron Muren's domain attacked by Thracia forces!"
The only surprise: how much deeper "rear" meant.
"Baron Muren missing, presumed dead! Baron castle fully burned! Muren retainers scattered!"p>
Even a major lord crumbling in a day was unforeseen.
"Did they open the gates and surrender? How does cavalry take a fortress in a single day?!"
"Not confirmed, but signs of magic bombardment..."
Fabian Franz suddenly understood why his superior had grown so irritable since throwing himself into the fray.
"Absurd nonsense!"
Mana-imbued flesh weakens. Traversing knight-burdening distances in a day then casting? Impossible.
Maybe a pre-planted mage inside timed it.
But unlikely.
Mages had fragile minds—glass-like resolve shattered in enemy heartland; they'd never dare cast.
"Hoo. So where'd Thracia head?"
"......Pursuing now."
He swallowed the urge to yell again as the staff officer offered excuses.
"They can't have gone far. After forced marches and battle, even Bluecoats need rest. Traces of camp two hours from the city."
Doubtful—that captain who stole 300 wagons over five autumn days and vanished across the border wouldn't dawdle.
Fabian sneered openly.
"So what's Baron Muren's domain now? Someone sorting the chaos?"
"Baron Muren's cousin and brother-in-law, Baron Warren, gathering troops to stabilize—details soon."
"Stabilize? Lucky if he doesn't swallow it."
Massaging his throbbing head, Fabian eyed the staff officer sharply.
"How many troops does Baron Warren have?"
"At least 1,200."
"Mostly conscript infantry."
"Yes. Some retainers, but few—fifty tops."
"......When'd word come of Warren heading to Muren?"
"Messenger this morning—distance-wise, he should've arrived by now..."
Mid-briefing, the staff officer finally saw the acting commander's face.
Hard as stone.
"Send a messenger to Baron Warren immediately!"
"Pardon? What message?"
"Withdraw troops now! No—flee!"
Fabian shot to his feet, bellowing.
"Urgent!"
Then someone burst through the command room door.
"Baron Warren to Muren—crushed by Thracia! Warren dead! Forces routed!"
Thud.
Fabian collapsed into his chair.
"Haa."
He pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it.
His boss would gripe about the stench again, but unavoidable now.
Oscar, sir. As you said, our Astoria army's a joke.
Look at that staffer's face.
Even now, with things this bad, he can't grasp what's happening.
As he inwardly roasted the incompetent Astorians and exhaled smoke, the staff berated the poor messenger.
"Don't you get it? They looted Muren, hid nearby, ambushed the late reinforcements."
"Then...?"
"Warren's domain joins Muren on the Bluecoats' tally."
Fabian inhaled deeply and stood.
"Send messengers to all domains within two days of Muren. Effective immediately: bar gates, indefinite siege. Fight only from inside."
"Until when?"
"Till Bluecoats are gone."
"Prime trading season—merchants will complain..."
"Then let them hug their gold and die."
"......Pardon?"
"Deaf? Those who shit themselves—better they die now."
The staff officer blanched at the outburst from famously prudent, mild Fabian Franz, bowing hastily before fleeing.
"Oscar, sir. How did you wage war with these blockheads?"
Fabian sighed, finally grasping his superior's plight.
"Not the time."
Lost domains aside—deal with Bluecoats first.
Letting them return to Thracia meant losing before the war began.
Morale would tank, and Bluecoat terror—barely purged from last war—would spread again.
Worst: his boss, dumping command on him, would bear the blame.
"Winged Hussars reorganization and reinforcements?"
"One fully done, one nearly."
"So one company combat-ready."
He summoned the staff back and issued orders.
"Tell the Winged Hussars: chance for revenge."
The staff eyed him cautiously.
"Bit awkward, but Winged Hussars alone can't catch Thracia Bluecoats. Freshly reformed, heavy losses would cripple them."
True—even a platoon of Bluecoats wiped a company; impossible alone.
"Three light cavalry companies, one mage corps. Enough?"
Despite committing infantry-legion-equivalent force, the staff looked uneasy.
Proof Bluecoat nightmares revived.
"I'll command this hunt personally."
"Meaning...?"
"Yes. Champions too."
The staff's face eased, but not optimistic.
One heavy cavalry company, three light. One mage corps, ten elite knights.
This much to barely balance scales.
"Truly admirable foes."
Regular army matching knight orders? Rare.
Goosebumps prickled my skin, my spine ice-cold before I knew it.
"Ahh. This is it."
A familiar sensation.
Misfortune was stacking up again.