Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: With Overwhelming Power (1)
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I'd only sketched out a rough outline, but before I knew it, they started piling on the details.
"How about we just set up a proper camp right here?"
Captain Gaf was the most enthusiastic, throwing out ideas left and right.
He suggested disguising the place as a supply base to support our forces pushing into Astoria's rear. It was a sudden idea, but it made way more sense than having a combat unit just sitting out in the open.
"If we play it right, we can lure the Astoria forces even deeper. A supply train looks like easier pickings than Bluecoats, after all. If they come to us first, our Bluecoats can save their strength."
We had plenty of wagons, and with a little work disguising the Bluecoats' warhorses, it seemed like it could be pretty effective.
"Plus, with no telling when the Astoria army might show up, camping in the dirt is worse for keeping our combat strength up."
He had a point—every word of it.
"Good."
There was no reason to turn it down.
"And one more thing."
Seeing his plan accepted had Captain Gaf beaming, his helmet clanking as he leaned in.
"Let's make it even easier for the Astoria bastards—save them the trouble."
He proposed placing a few Bluecoats in plain sight a short distance away.
Supply train—disguised elite mercenaries—and Bluecoats.
Choosing which looked like the softer target wouldn't be hard for them.
"Clever way to steer the enemy's thinking. I learned something there. Thank you."
After that, Captain Gaf took the lead, with Lieutenant Staretzka chiming in now and then.
Yeah. This was a proper unit.
I watched them with satisfaction.
"Captain Gaf."
"Yes, Major."
"That helmet suits you."
Without it, that timid guy never would've jumped into the meeting like this.
Come to think of it, the helmet deserved second place for the meeting's success.
First place went without saying: me.
We planted Jamal and a platoon of Bluecoats—about twenty men—a little over an hour's ride away, in plain sight. And for good measure, we stuck flags everywhere like signposts.
Don't get lost. Come find us.
The rest of us Bluecoats settled into the camp disguised as a supply base.
"Major, you and the Bluecoats—and the Doppelzoltner—should stay inside the tents as much as possible."
Our notoriety was what it was; no helping it.
Which was why I'd been holed up in my tent for two days straight.
"Major. Lieutenant Staretzka here."
Her voice came from outside the tent.
Flick.
Natasha—who'd claimed my bed as usual, rolling around before passing out—popped her eyes open like a ghost.
"Come in."
"Oh. Mage Natasha's here too."
Lieutenant Staretzka stepped in, spotting Natasha and making an awkward face.
Natasha barely glanced her way, though.
"Something to report, Lieutenant?"
"You seemed bored, so I thought I'd keep you company."
She shot Natasha a sidelong glance.
"Ignore Natasha."
She wouldn't care about our talk anyway.
"So... what exactly is your relationship?"
"Ah, well, a while back we..."
Before I could finish, a pale hand shot into view, and Natasha hugged me from behind.
Her chin on my head bobbed like she was saying something, but no sound came out.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It's not that, but..."
The lieutenant's face paled a bit—I figured Natasha had done something.
"Natasha. Out, or behave?"
She let go right away and flopped back onto the bed.
"You two seem really close."
Lieutenant Staretzka watched awkwardly for a bit, then whispered just loud enough for me.
"Is that why you turned down my offer before...?"
"Nothing like that. Don't overthink it."
Whether she believed me or not, she dropped Natasha after that.
She just rambled on with pointless, boring chit-chat for a while.
"Lieutenant."
"Yes?"
"You don't have to try so hard."
She was forcing it to follow Igor's orders about earning my trust, and it was making even me uncomfortable.
"...Was it that obvious?"
"Obvious enough to bother me."
"This really isn't an easy mission."
She sighed.
"No need to rush."
Pacts and pleasantries—shallow trust built on words—might fly with the nobles back in the capital, but not on the front lines.
"There's only one kind of trust you build in battle."
Whether I can trust you with my back or not.
"Everything else is meaningless."
Lieutenant Staretzka's eyes went wide.
"Trust as soldiers..."
She looked like I'd dropped some profound wisdom.
"That's camaraderie."
I had no idea what about that hit her so hard.
Anyway, she stopped hovering unnaturally after that. Good enough.
Five days after we set up in this barren plain.
"Astoria forces in the distance!"
Our first guests arrived.
"Battalion-sized! Mostly light infantry, minus some heavy infantry. No cavalry or mages!"
Good start.
"Judging by their formation, they'll attack soon!"
A weak supply train all alone? Obvious choice.
Plus, even if they were checking their territory, we were technically deserters who'd abandoned the front. Perfect scapegoats to cover up their own screw-ups—no matter the nation.
"Captain Gaf, Lieutenant Staretzka—take command of the infantry."
Both looked distracted even as they acknowledged the order.
First real combat; they were tense.
"Numan, Vadim."
The Doppelzoltner captain and veteran NCO turned to me. I nodded for them to back up the green commanders, and they nodded back.
"Lure them in as far as possible, but don't push for kills and risk casualties."
Trading good men to mop up a bunch of deserter trash—even a big bunch—didn't add up.
I repeated it a few times, then slipped to the rear of the camp.
Tucked between tents, four Bluecoat platoons waited.
"Once the infantry engages, we circle behind and hit their flank."
Pinning them with infantry while we smashed the side—that's what Bluecoats did best, and most often.
Lately, we'd been fighting more unconventional than hammer-and-anvil, for some reason.
"Looks like it's starting."
Footsteps and shouts grew closer.
"Astorians!"
"Enemy attack!"
Shouts erupted around the camp in response.
"Ugh. Their acting sucks."
No helping it.
Half the infantry were foreigners, so it sounded off to my Thracia ears.
Lucky for us, to the Astorians, Thracia with an imperial accent or plain Thracia was all just gibberish anyway.
"It's on."
Clash of weapons and yells rang out.
"Charge."
We tore down the fence on the opposite side from the camp entrance and rode out.
"Trot."
Straight north, slowly building speed.
When we hit a good pace...
"Platoon, wheel!"
We swung wide in a big arc with the Bluecoats.
The enemy's flank came into view.
"Canter!"
Our forces accelerated.
Ilya Gaf had never wanted to be a soldier—not even a little.
His parents forced him into officer school. He graduated with decent grades by accident, got assigned to HQ by chance.
Serve out his time, save up, open a little shop—that was the plan.
No grand ambitions of glory or promotion.
He never dreamed he'd end up on the front lines against Astoria.
Still, when his superior adopted his idea, he'd felt a swell of pride.
Maybe soldiering fit him after all.
Poor judgment. Stupid illusion.
"Ugh..."
Groans leaked through his gritted teeth.
The screams and shouts drilling into his ears were driving him mad.
-...!
-...!
The unfamiliar curses in their tongue only made the chaos worse.
"H-Hold position!"
He forced himself to shout orders, but the panic deepened instead of easing.
Did I give the right command?
Can they even hear me in this racket?
Doubts piled up, his mind going blank.
Wait. Why am I here?
What am I even doing?
Nothing made sense.
Then he spotted a young lieutenant bellowing in the distance.
"Hold position! Second Platoon, push up a bit more! First Platoon, hold here!"
She'd been frozen with nerves just like him earlier. Now she was a different person.
"You fucking clown bastards! Quit bulging out like that!"
"Whoa! Lieutenant's pissed! Boys, fall back—easy!"
Had she always been that foul-mouthed? The curses sounded alien.
At her sharp command, the Doppelzoltner hacked through Astorians and fell back into line.
Blood smeared over their white face paint—they looked inhuman.
The enemy shrank back from the ghostly sight.
"Lieutenant! We're twiddling our thumbs here!"
"Deal with it! Told you not to charge ahead!"
True enough—no enemies in front of them. Hands idle wasn't exaggeration.
Everywhere else was the same, just degrees different. We were dominating.
The other mercenaries—in their colorful uniforms, not quite as clownish—were steadily cutting down Astorians too.
Lanzknecht, was it?
The empire's battle-hardened mercs lived up to the name.
Astoria's conscript rabble couldn't touch them.
Realizing that calmed his spinning head a bit.
A captain, no less.
Shame hit late.
But he had excuses. He was a staff officer, not a line commander.
They didn't stick; the shame lingered.
Dumping command in panic as rear-guard head? Major failure.
Yet the unit pressed without a hitch, shaming him more.
He steeled himself, cleared his throat.
Time to do his job.
"...?"
Just as he drew breath to bellow...
Flutter flutter.
Something pale swirled nearby.
He turned. His superior's constant mage companion was dancing out of nowhere.
What the...?
He stared blankly, then wrinkled his nose at the acrid scent clinging to it.
He realized what it was moments later.
Whoosh—BOOM!
A bombardment slammed into the Astorians' center.
Right in front of him.
Splat splat.
Something wet rained down.
Swipe.
He brushed a lump off his shoulder.
Long, slimy, bright red, and warm.
"Ah?"
Recognition froze him.
That instant.
"For Thracia!"
A fierce voice rang out.
BOOM!
Bluecoats burst through white smoke, slamming the enemy's flank.
Thundering hooves!
Their momentum carving through the enemy ranks was tremendous.
Krunch-crunch-crunch!
The Astorians were getting shredded—literally.
Ilya Gaf, lost in the overwhelming sight, finally snapped to and shrieked.
"A-All units... cha-cha-charge!"
The words were pathetic, but everyone had been waiting.
The mercenaries surged forward as one.