Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Most Ideal Commander (1)
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For pike soldiers to fulfill their role against heavy cavalry, three conditions were essential.
First, they had to maintain their formation. Second, their morale had to be high. And finally, their lines had to be thick.
Viewed in that light, the hastily assembled pike formation in the midst of this desperate chaos fell short in every aspect.
Aside from the initial charge, there hadn't even been a need to swing their blades properly.
Simply loosening the reins and letting the Royal Gift Horse rampage on its own was enough to completely shatter the enemy's will to fight.
And with the Bluecoats who'd charged in alongside me going wild as well, it wasn't long before the amateurs' pike formation collapsed entirely.
I flipped up my visor.
My stuffy field of view opened up, revealing an open plaza.
A space large enough to easily array a battalion's worth of troops.
Utterly cramped for a hundred heavy cavalry to maneuver in.
Especially in a situation like now, with friendly forces continuously pushing in.
"Don't stand around—keep moving!"
The archers on the walls were firing arrows like mad.
Ting. Ting. Quaddduk.
Every time a sharp arrowhead scraped against my armor, my nerves stood on end.
"Keep circling!"
I kept riding laps around the plaza, surveying the fortress's layout.
Three paths led out from the plaza in total.
Two were too narrow, and one was barely tolerable.
Even that one tolerable path wasn't sufficient for heavy cavalry to charge through.
This was the difference between forward and rear bases.
Military fortresses, designed from the ground up with enemy incursions in mind, didn't end at the gate.
Narrow, winding paths that blocked large-scale troop movements outright, and buildings cunningly placed for defense.
Everything in sight favored the enemy and disadvantaged us.
Even the spiral stairs connected to the walls reeked of the designer's malice, dead set on screwing over any intruders.
-......!
-......!
The archers on the walls intensified their barrage.
Ting, ting, ti-ting.
Most attacks bounced off my plate armor without issue, but the range was too close.
Keep taking hits like that, and eventually a weak spot—like joints or thinner plating—would get pierced.
Horses were especially vulnerable if their flanks were exposed.
"Fire!"
The Bluecoats sequentially drew and fired their crossbows.
-......!
Archers tumbled from the walls.
But only a few.
As expected.
Crossbows modified for mounted use were small and lacked the power of standard models.
Firing them from a rocking saddle at barely effective range past 20 meters yielded minimal results.
The best they could do was make the archers duck.
And that was enough.
"Infantry's arrived!"
This had been to buy them time to breach the gate in the first place.
"Garp, take Vadim and secure the walls! Once the walls are cleared, prioritize the archers on the rooftops!"
I pushed the infantry in based on the fortress layout I'd scouted beforehand.
Light infantry armed with short swords and shields followed Captain Garp toward the walls.
"Katya, take the Landsknechts and punch through the central avenue and the right alley! Watch the rooftops!"
The Landsknechts, clad in heavy armor and polearms, began advancing, clearing obstacles from the path.
"Jamal! Once the Landsknechts clear the way, it's our turn!"
"Yes, sir!"
"You know that—why are you still standing around!"
"Sorry, sir! Bluecoats! Check your horses and gear!"
While 8th Legion archers gathered our discarded crossbows and reloaded them.
"Yannick, Yannick."
A mage appeared at some point, reaching out toward me.
I leaned over and pulled her up in front of me.
"Mana?"
"Weakly twice, or once properly."
"Good. Rest for now."
"Mm-hm."
As I wrapped my right arm around her head, Natasha leaned into me like she'd been waiting.
I shielded her upper body with my shield and assessed the battlefield.
Captain Garp and Vadim were smoothly taking the walls.
Arrows flying our way had already noticeably decreased.
Lieutenant Staretzka and the Landsknechts were steadily clearing obstacles and pushing forward.
The Bluecoats were still reorganizing.
Beyond the tightly packed rooftops, the northern sky was thick with black smoke.
The siege was only just beginning.
The sun had fully risen.
The Astoria forces on the southern walls were mostly annihilated, with survivors scattered and putting up pointless resistance.
Some of the 8th Legion's reserves, bypassing the fortress from the north, linked up with us.
Mostly archers, but some heavy infantry too.
The sorely needed archers took positions on the walls.
Enemy resistance from the rooftops was completely neutralized.
By noon, we'd secured the southern sector of Renkamp Fortress's eight districts.
No sign of the northern walls falling.
The 6th and 8th Legion vanguard, who'd fought through the night, withdrew, replaced by the main body and rearguard.
The Bluecoats and Landsknechts, who'd dashed around the fortress all morning, took a break.
The 8th Legion archers on the walls traded shots with adjacent Astoria wall archers.
The rested Landsknechts joined in assaulting the walls.
Enemy resistance was fierce; our forces gained nothing and fell back.
"All non-engaged personnel, take meals in shifts."
Infantry ate in rotations.
The Bluecoats, scrounging food again who-knows-where, lounged about waiting their turn.
The sun overhead had tilted west.
The brief lull reignited into fierce combat.
As our archers traded volleys with theirs, Natasha—now in position—unleashed a magic barrage into the enemy center.
With their mages pulled north, the enemy couldn't counter properly and took heavy losses.
Seizing the gap, Landsknechts and 8th Legion heavy infantry seized part of the walls.
Dusk began to fall.
Even the archers who'd fired nonstop till the end lowered their bows and rested as darkness set in.
Blind firing without identifying friend from foe would just multiply casualties—a wise call.
For the same reason, Landsknechts at risk of friendly fire were pulled from the walls, replaced by Thracia skirmishers suited for brawls.
"Keep the pressure on!"
Despite intermittent breaks, our troops were heavily fatigued.
"Don't give 'em time to eat! Keep 'em from sleeping!"
But the Astoria forces were even more exhausted.
Their lapses in concentration were visible to the naked eye.
Yet they clung to resistance tenaciously.
Boom! Boom!
The thunderous blasts resumed after a lull.
Our mage corps, briefly rested and mana-recovered, hammered the fortress with spells. The enemy squeezed out what mana they had in response.
Kurrrr.
The shockwaves from exploding mana orbs jolted awake our dozing troops, who bolted up in terror—only to realize they were out of blast range and resume sleeping.
"Sieges, huh. Way more hellish than the books made it sound."
Captain Garp groaned in disgust.
His helmet was missing—tossed somewhere.
Less overcoming his timid nature, more just too heavy.
His pale face looked too drained to lift a finger.
"This is what centuries—millennia—of humans building, tearing down, rebuilding, and every damn trick in the book have wrought to stop other humans. If it were easy to take, no need to pour fortunes into building and maintaining them."
In that sense, Astoria's Commander-in-Chief, who'd toppled dozens of our fortresses in under half a year, was a true genius of the ages.
"......We even infiltrated spies and breached the gate. Still not easy."
"If not for that, we'd still be outside staring at the walls."
Sieges generally dragged into long, grueling attrition wars before a winner emerged.
No wonder the 6th Legion commander had eagerly snatched the fortress and ditched us.
"And yet you, Major, seized it the moment you arrived. Not fully taken yet, but still......"
Captain Garp kept babbling.
Nonstop, like stopping would spell disaster.
Maybe to drown out the faint screams still echoing.
He wasn't worn down enough to be numb to death yet.
"If I'd just been a better staff officer......"
I snorted at his gloomy muttering.
I could guess the unspoken end.
"Don't get cocky."
"Pardon?"
"The bigger the army, the less room for clever tricks and schemes. Even brilliant commanders are just one among thousands. Garp. You, me—same deal."
Stratagems worked on small battlefields.
On large ones, you couldn't fight that way, and it wouldn't work anyway.
Legion-scale battles were decided more by strategy than tactics, troop placement and timing over individual prowess or ingenuity.
In short, who prepared better and made fewer mistakes.
This siege was no different.
All our prep so far was to induce enemy errors, force fatigue.
"But that...... is it really okay? Hasn't moved a bit since earlier."
Captain Garp, sheepish, changed the subject.
"Crawling to the gate all night and burning all her mana? She'll be fine after a solid sleep."
His expression upon glancing at Natasha, out cold against me, said it all.
I get it, but why in your arms?
I saw no need to reply.
It was obvious from my side.
Mages fully depleted of mana became extremely vulnerable. And all living things' nerves sharpened the instant they sensed vulnerability.
Especially in a battlefield thick with human malice and killing intent.
Perfect conditions to trigger Natasha's mania, her psyche already fragile.
Stuck to me like this, she felt safe enough to sleep soundly.
Without me, who knows what would've happened.
I was her safe zone, her safety net.
"Wonder if Sir Otto and the Doppelzoltner are okay?"
"Otto's fine. Doppelzoltner aren't the type to die here."
I'd never given them suicidal orders.
Just stir up chaos at the gate. Make everyone realize Thracia spies had infiltrated.
Then hide, and at night, spread rumors of disguised Thracia troops roaming—fuel the panic.
Simple task.
No dying if not caught.
"......That 'not getting caught' condition's the hard part, no?"
I didn't answer Captain Garp.
Flash.
Natasha, asleep against me, bolted upright.
Her gaze fixed on the northern sky over the fortress, flickering red.
The defector knights and Doppelzoltner were kicking into high gear.
Dark night.
Relentless attacks from outside, flames erupting within.
To top it off, Thracia troops in Astoria uniforms setting fires and screaming about attacking allies.
After a day of nonstop fighting without proper rest, cool heads wouldn't prevail.
With luck, they'd kill each other. Even without, the paranoia of hidden spies in the dark was enough.
"Yannick."
Natasha gave me a look.
I met her eyes.
I'd sensed it already.
The air in the fortress felt thicker, stickier.
Pressure on the nape, an unpleasant chill down my back.
But more than that.
Thump-thump-thump.
My heart pounded wildly.
"Garp."
I grabbed my helmet and stood.
"Break's over."
Time to end this damned siege.