Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: With Overwhelming Power (4)
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“The Bluecoats are heeeere!”
Zendaya Kalashnikov bellowed at the top of his lungs.
By now, everyone was already staring up at the Bluecoats on the hill.
“Our allies have come to save us!”
It was a shout that came far too late, but no one paid it any mind.
Just the unexpected presence of reinforcements was enough to fill their hearts with emotion.
Especially since the main force hadn't abandoned them after all.
The colonel, who had been yelling nonstop, suddenly felt a twinge of unease.
“Why aren't they charging?”
If they were going to attack, now was the perfect moment—while the enemy hadn't fully formed up.
Even at this instant, the Astoria forces were bustling about.
Once the troops that had surrounded the camp on all sides gathered and formed ranks, it would be too late.
“Ah.”
The colonel realized it belatedly.
Why the Bluecoats hadn't charged right away.
“It's because of us. Because of us.”
Their goal was rescuing the friendly forces surrounded by the Astoria army—not annihilating the enemy.
If it weren't for them, there'd have been no reason to give up the element of surprise.
Deploying so visibly on that conspicuous hill and brazenly blowing their horns—it was all for that reason.
“Ah...”
The colonel let out a long sigh.
He couldn't help but feel regret over the Bluecoats' decision, swayed by sentiment and missing a golden opportunity.
“They could've just ignored our casualties.”
Even as he said it, he knew the truth.
Such thoughts probably never crossed their minds.
If they were the type to think that way, they never would have risked coming all the way here in the first place.
While Colonel Zendaya Kalashnikov stomped his feet in frustration, the Astoria forces kept scurrying about.
And finally, they finished reorganizing about 500 meters from the camp.
Thick ranks of pikemen faced the hill, backed by heavy infantry, with light infantry flanking both sides.
It was an obvious formation.
The pikemen would absorb the initial shock, then the heavy infantry would deal with the slowed Bluecoats, while the light infantry struck from the flanks in between.
Nothing special—textbook anti-cavalry formation.
But that was exactly why it was so effective against cavalry.
“When the battle starts, abandon the camp and charge out to aid the Bluecoats.”
“You mean...”
“We have to disrupt their formation somehow before the Bluecoats arrive.”
Even if it meant all of them dying.
The colonel scanned the soldiers with a resolute expression.
No one raised any objections to his plan.
They simply gripped their weapons tighter, their faces grim with determination for the sake of those who had rushed to their rescue without hesitation, even after the main force had abandoned them.
“Resolution to die good. But effort to save none.”
A voice spoke in awkward Thracia dialect.
“Hello. 6th Legion friends. I am your friend, Numan.”
Turning his head, he saw a man in garish, ghost-like attire that blended every color imaginable—uncanny, as if he'd appeared out of nowhere.
The colonel raised a hand to stop the terrified soldiers from aiming their weapons and lit up with recognition.
“One of Major Yannick's clown troupe.”
He remembered them well.
The Doppelzoltner who followed Major Yannick around all looked like that—ghostly freaks.
“A message from Major Yannick.”
The Doppelzoltner spoke in an exaggerated, awkward accent.
“Please handle the Astoria army's flank. But don't fully engage yet—just harass them from the side for now.”
Then, switching seamlessly from that atrocious Thracia to fluent speech, he delivered the message with an oddly listless tone.
The moment he heard it, the colonel realized the man was mimicking someone he knew well.
Major Yannick's speech pattern was exactly like that.
“Harass from the flank? Not impossible, but I'm not sure it'll work.”
The Astoria forces no longer seemed interested in them.
They probably thought they could devour this side anytime after dealing with the Bluecoats.
Infuriating, but not wrong.
They were just a ragtag group of about 150 wounded survivors who had barely escaped the bombardment.
“No need to worry about that.”
As the Doppelzoltner's words ended.
Clack, clack, clack, clack.
Footsteps echoed from somewhere, and far off, a group of soldiers appeared.
Two hundred men in colorful uniforms, long swords and two-handers slung over one shoulder.
Clack.
They halted about 700 meters from the Astoria forces.
“Another message from the major.”
The Doppelzoltner cleared his throat.
“They are surrounded on three sides. Initiative is ours now.”
Colonel Zendaya Kalashnikov was dumbfounded.
Normally, encirclement was something the side with more troops did to the side with fewer—not something you pulled on a larger force with a smaller one.
But.
“My god.”
Not now.
Major Yannick's absurd three-sided encirclement tactic was still in play.
Under normal circumstances, a loose encirclement by less than half their number could be smashed through with numerical superiority or by breaking one side.
But the current Astoria forces couldn't dare try that.
The core of an anti-cavalry formation was the cohesion of highly trained pikemen and the integrity of the ranks.
The moment they split to counterattack or attempted a breakthrough sloppily, the advantages of the dense phalanx would vanish without a trace.
In other words, no matter what, the Astoria forces couldn't move from their current position.
“Last one.”
The Doppelzoltner paused, looking flustered as if he'd forgotten.
“Ah!”
Recalling it with a gasp, he shamelessly delivered Major Yannick's final message.
“We decide when and how the battle begins.”
Their greatest weapon was that choice itself.
Crushed by the Bluecoats' reputation and battle honors, the enemy had no choice but to react passively—and it rang true.
Even now, surrounded on three sides, the Astoria forces hadn't budged an inch. Proof positive.
“Just how far ahead does Major Yannick see?”
He'd wondered why they showed up so blatantly without a plan, but they'd prepared this.
Yet Major Yannick's scheme had a fatal flaw.
Just as the enemy couldn't move rashly, neither could they do anything decisive to them.
They held the advantageous high ground, but the Astoria forces still outnumbered them more than two-to-one.
“No. Wait. If we drag this out...”
Colonel Zendaya Kalashnikov nodded to himself.
Though abandoned, the main force wouldn't ignore this area forever.
The Astoria army might even flee to avoid battle, burdened by that.
Either way, time was on their side.
“No. Major Yannick has no intention of waiting for other legions or letting the Astoria forces go.”
But apparently not.
“Then I'll be off. I have work.”
The Doppelzoltner vanished toward the infantry that had just appeared late, saying the Bluecoats would attack soon.
“Is he really going to attack?”
He racked his brains for ages, unable to guess Major Yannick's intentions.
“Colonel! The Bluecoats are moving!”
The Bluecoats, lined up in single file, vanished behind the hill.
Then, shortly after, they reemerged rounding the hill.
“Huh?”
Colonel Zendaya Kalashnikov rubbed his one good eye.
Moments ago on the hill, there had been at most a hundred Bluecoats.
Now, reappearing, there were at least twice that.
“Reserve mounts!”
Looking closer, riderless warhorses galloped among the Bluecoats.
As the king's elite direct cavalry, having more reserves than troopers wasn't unusual.
But deploying rear-guard reserves like this? He'd never heard or seen such a thing.
“Th-they're really charging!”
No need for the shrill cry; the Bluecoats' assault was imminent.
Gradually picking up speed, they headed straight for the Astoria forces.
The colonel frowned.
“What's with all the dust...”
The dust cloud was excessively thick.
Even thousands of hooves wouldn't kick up that much.
Thud thud thud thud thud.
The massive, hazy cloud was so thick the Bluecoats were barely visible.
Only the lead riders were faintly discernible.
The yellow dust surged like a tidal wave, while its source remained obscured.
Amid it all, the earth-shaking hoofbeats grew louder, like fog charging forward.
“Ah...”
Truly, it was a bizarre, mystical sight the colonel had never witnessed.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud!
The hoofbeats intensified, echoing everywhere.
Then, faintly piercing the din:
Scraaaape, scraaaape.
The sharp yet dull noise sent chills across his skin.
He couldn't identify it.
Before Colonel Zendaya Kalashnikov could figure it out:
Boom!
The yellow fog slammed into the Astoria forces.
Craaaunch.
A cacophony followed.
The fog engulfed the Astoria front lines.
Nothing was visible.
Bluecoats and front lines alike vanished in the billowing dust.
What was happening inside?
Everything unclear—except one thing, crystal sharp.
-...!
-...!
Screams endlessly erupted from the fog, more visceral than ever.
How much time passed?
The fog that had upended the front began spreading rearward, gradually settling.
Sloooowly.
Finally, the dust cleared completely, revealing the Astoria forces.
The solid phalanx was gone; the center utterly shattered.
Horses stood in the enemy midst, but their riders were nowhere.
All unhorsed?
As he stomped in pity, a familiar sound reached his ears.
Thud thud thud thud.
Something familiar rolling powerfully across the ground.
“C-Colonel! The Bluecoats over there!”
A bit away from the Astoria forces.
Following the sound, he saw Bluecoats accelerating.
“H-how?”
He'd seen with his own eyes the dust-shrouded Bluecoats colliding with the Astoria army.
Or so he thought—but from this distance, all he'd truly seen was the dust engulfing them.
Who were these, just starting their charge not far from the original hill?
Who had crushed the Astoria front lines?
Bwooo, bwooo, bwooo, bwooooo.
A low horn pierced his dazed ears.
Clack, clack, clack, clack.
Major Yannick's hitherto motionless troops advanced en masse toward the Astoria forces.
“Anyone who can fight, follow me!”
Snapping to, he charged from the camp.
Even as he raced toward the Astoria army, his mind fixated on the magical scene he'd just witnessed.
What the hell just happened?
No matter how he pondered, no answer came.
Unless you'd been right there inside, it was unknowable.
But even those who had been inside were just as clueless about what had transpired.
Hans was short.
How short? His head barely reached the chests of other heavy infantrymen.
Yet he was a recognized heavy infantryman.
Standing at the very front of the heavy infantry line proved it.
The front ranks were always the bravest and most skilled.
His comrades shoulder-to-shoulder were equally elite.
And not just them.
Setting aside the mages who'd bombed once and fled, everyone here was top-tier.
No conscript rabble—this was a cut above.
The pikemen holding formation flawlessly despite imminent battle with Thracia's devils proved it.
They firmly believed.
The infamous Bluecoats would meet their end here.
They trusted their skills and their lord.
“We are Astoria's strongest!”
The heavy infantry roared like beasts.
But only briefly.
-Murmur murmur.
The front lines grew unusually chaotic.
The pikemen's fear rippled back.
They'd been perfectly poised moments ago.
What the hell?
Doubt crept in whether the pikemen could hold against Thracia's devils to the end.
Trickle trickle.
Yellow liquid ran down the ankle of the rearmost pikeman right in front of him.
His legs shook spectacularly.
“You bastard, what the fu—”
Furious at the cowardice and about to yell, Hans belatedly sensed wrongness.
Short as he was, he couldn't see the front well.
“What dust...”
The sky was blanketed in it.
What? Weren't they just one company?
No way a hundred cavalry could raise that much.
Thud thud thud thud.
Earth-shaking hooves drew near.
He shelved questions, braced for battle.
Craaaunch.
A monstrous noise from the front.
What? What? What?
Unlike typical heavy cavalry impacts, his nerves sharpened.
Crunch.
The noise swelled.
Pikemen screams grew closer.
By the speed, the pikemen had failed as feared.
Panic at the charge's end, formation collapse.
Otherwise, the enemy couldn't penetrate this fast.
Ptooey.
Gripping his flail, he awaited Thracia's devil.
Crunch.
The piss-pants idiot in front vanished before his eyes.
Simultaneously, the devil appeared.
No rider?
Just the horse—no rider in sight.
Unhorsed? Horse running loose?
Thoughts flashed in the blink.
Whoosh.
Suddenly, a rope appeared before him.
“Gah!”
A dull impact to the head—vision whited out.
Regaining senses, he was rolling on the ground.
No helmet.
Snagged by that rope, it seems.
Trickle.
Wiping forehead blood roughly, he looked around.
Nearby, a sprawled warhorse.
Dangling from it, a rope festooned with jagged metal shards.
“Huh?”
Then he noticed his comrades.
Neck snapped backward. Face bloodied, crawling helmetless. Sprawled, hacking endlessly.
Clatter clatter.
Dazed at the sight, two riderless horses thundered past.
Those in between smashed their heads on the ground.
Comrades snagged by ropes perfectly neck-high between horses tumbled en masse.
The horses slowed, halted in place, still roped together.
Then he finally understood what hit them.
Looking ahead again.
“Ah...”
No more pikemen filling his view.
Just comrades crawling like him.
“Fuck!”
Hans cursed, staggering up.
Thankfully, beyond the front, heavy infantry ranks held mostly intact.
Too early to quit.
Grabbing his rolling flail, he rejoined the still-formed heavy infantry.
“They're coming again!”
Tense shout.
The Bluecoats finally appeared.
Squelch.
Using his small stature to slip forward, he thrust his flail between the legs of the lead white horse.
“For our comrades...!”
Sudden buoyancy.
Looking down—an alien view for one always looking up.
“Gurk!”
“Agh!”
Thracia's devils trampled comrades, charging on.
Their vaunted defense, his flail—useless.
Dazed at the slaughter, he—
Crunch.
Slammed into the dirt.
Didn't even register what hit him; eyes bulged with lingering fury.
Not that it mattered for a neck already snapped.
I finally pierced the heavy infantry lines.
Accelerating again, I shouted.
“Jamal!”
Jamal, tight on my tail, raised his visor and put the horn to his lips.
Bwoooo, bwoooo.
The low, heavy horn repeated.
Hummmmmm.
An ominous pulse spread behind.
As the last Bluecoat broke through the Astoria ranks.
Screeeeech!
Natasha's signature precise magic barrage crashed into the heart of the last resisting heavy infantry.
“Jamal! Take half the Bluecoats, wheel left, and hit their flank!”
“And you, sir?!”
“I'll take the opposite flank!”
A shallow trick had broken their center, but the flanks remained intact.
“Canter! Gallop!”
Arcing wide, enemies reappeared before me.
Unlike pikemen, light infantry without anti-cavalry tools scattered in panic.
Crack.
I plunged into their midst.
Trample, slash, crush. Killed like mad.
Thud thud thud thud!
Jamal and the Bluecoats burst through the opposite side, crossing our flank.
Trappeed infantry flailed and died.
A crushing victory.