Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Before the Grand Glory, There Was a Humble Beginning (3)
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Even as I looked at the 4th Legion Commander and 7th Legion Commander—who had insisted we abandon the fortress and assemble the entire army for a decisive battle—I posed another question.
"Can we arrive in time before the defensive line collapses?"
Even if we gathered our scattered frontline forces as quickly as possible, it would still take at least two weeks. And then another four days to march back to the rear.
During those twenty days, our allied fortress would be exposed to horrific magical barrages, enduring hellish conditions.
I was certain that by the time we arrived, the fortress would already have fallen into enemy hands.
"That's an overestimation. Of course, it's not impossible for Nightheart to target Thracia's fortress. I agree there's substantial gain to be had from it. But that's just a possibility at best."
The 9th Legion Commander raised an objection in a calm tone.
He was right, of course.
This was just my speculation, after all.
Most commanders would never choose the approach I'd suggested.
Leaving the enemy behind while maneuvering carried enormous risks.
It was understandable if they dismissed it as the delusions of a mere major lacking the broad vision of frontline command compared to the other generals.
I knew my own limitations.
I was weak at strategy. I'd never led a large army, and I wasn't meticulous.
That's why, in situations like this, rather than relying on my mediocre strategic insight, I focused on what I was confident in.
People.
Oscar von Nightheart.
I'd never met him in person.
But I had a rough idea of what kind of man he was.
Nightheart was meticulous to the point of obsession.
He pathologically guarded against any deviation from his plans and reacted sensitively to even the smallest errors.
You could tell just from how, when the Astoria forces were repelled at Schrelgrad, he immediately abandoned the fortresses he'd captured and pulled back the frontline.
If the Astoria army had held out until winter back then, Thracia might have lost a fifth of its northern territories.
But he accepted the losses and boldly withdrew his forces instead of clinging to the line.
That proved he was the type who prioritized the overall frontline over local battles, viewing the war through a long-term lens.
He was the complete opposite of me.
Some might see his bold troop maneuvers and rapid advances as signs of an aggressive commander, but that's not what I saw.
From softening the area with magical barrages before committing to battle, to placing crossbowmen and halberdiers up front—he always thought defense first, even in offense.
In contrast, I focused on short-term gains over long-term outcomes, emphasizing attack over defense.
I firmly believed the best defense was a good offense.
Instead of coordinating the entire frontline to pressure the enemy, I maximized local victories to turn the tide.
Our opposing philosophies on war made it all the clearer what Nightheart wanted right now.
"The Astoria forces will definitely attack here."
I drew a long line from the Astoria west, past Renkamp Fortress, all the way to Thracia.
"Killigrad...!"
The 8th Legion Commander groaned upon spotting the fortress at the end.
"If they secure this area, the Astoria army can neutralize the threat of our forces north of the border to the minimum and stably supply their advance into northern Thracia."
All of Astoria's assaults on Thracia's fortresses would begin here.
Of course, Oscar von Nightheart wouldn't target Killigrad just for one supply route.
Situated at the tri-border junction, Killigrad could become a dagger at the throat of Thracia or Kazan, depending on the circumstances.
"Even if they achieve no major gains in this war, holding Killigrad alone would allow Astoria to plot their next move."
This dagger would remain a persistent vulnerability for us and Kazan.
At that moment, I was more convinced than ever.
Nightheart's ambitions went beyond seizing a few border fortresses.
He harbored far grander aspirations.
Like the complete conquest of Kazan or Thracia.
A schemer like him might even be aiming for both nations.
"We need to delay the enemy's southward advance."
I proposed to the legion commanders.
It didn't matter if my guess was delusion or truth.
What we had to do was the same either way.
"I'll buy us time."
The legion commanders' eyes widened in shock at my words.
"Major Yannick!"
The 8th Legion Commander shot to his feet.
His face, rarely losing composure, was filled with worry and anger.
"...Do you have a plan?"
The 9th Legion Commander subtly inquired, gesturing for the 8th to calm down.
"If the Astoria forces have their mage corps as an iron hammer, doesn't Thracia have something similar?"
While Astoria invested in mage corps and crossbowmen, Thracia hadn't been idle.
"Thracia's Spear."
The heavy cavalry brigade renowned even on the continent.
"The Bluecoats!"
Someone let out an exclamation.
"The cavalry scattered across the frontlines—if we gather them all in one place, we can do it."
I nodded.
"So give them all to me."
Bluecoats, light cavalry—it didn't matter. I planned to gather every last one.
"......"
"......"
The legion commanders didn't answer right away.
Heavy cavalry or light cavalry, cavalry were a core strength for our army.
The traditional hammer-and-anvil tactics—infantry pinning the enemy while cavalry struck the flanks to shatter them—were among Thracia's generals' favorite maneuvers.
Handing over all that strength? They had to hesitate.
I waited patiently.
If they refused, there was nothing for it.
I'd just find another way.
That was how I fought.
"If you're caught by the infantry, you could face a pincer from the Astoria vanguard and main force."
The 9th Legion Commander gazed steadily at me.
"If we're held up by infantry, we don't deserve to wear these coats."
I met the veteran general's eyes.
"You've already made up your mind."
The 9th Legion Commander finally spoke.
"One heavy cavalry platoon and one light cavalry company under my command. I'll entrust them to you, Major."
That was the start.
"The 2nd Legion has about thirty Bluecoats. They've been griping about being held back during the siege. Take them all."
"3rd Legion. One heavy cavalry platoon and three light cavalry platoons idle. Take 'em."
"Sadly, no Bluecoats in the 4th Legion. But I'll support you with two light cavalry companies instead."
"The 7th Legion's cavalry is out on operations. If we send a urgent messenger, they might make it just in time. Send them all here?"
The legion commanders eagerly handed over their cavalry units.
"So how many does that make in total?"
The 4th Legion Commander, who hated math, groaned in disgust. Major General Basiles of the 6th Legion, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward.
"The existing Bluecoats are about one company—roughly a hundred men. Add another 150 Bluecoats from the legions. Then light cavalry: one company from the 9th, two from the 4th, one from the 7th. And..."
"The 1st Legion has three light cavalry companies too. The deserter hunt's over anyway, so might as well send them your way. I'll pass the word to the absent legion commanders."
"Factoring that in..."
As he tallied on the spot, he suddenly looked at me in surprise.
"Two hundred fifty Bluecoats... and eleven hundred light cavalry...?"
Hearing it laid out, even I was taken aback by the sheer force.
Uh... isn't that too much?
**
Everyone thinks of the Bluecoats first when it comes to Thracia Kingdom's elite.
Sure, some idiots might mention the Redcoats, but that's nonsense not worth a dime.
The Bluecoats were Thracia's undisputed top force—and the continent's strongest heavy cavalry, second to none.
But unbeknownst to most, Thracia had more aces up its sleeve than just the Bluecoats.
No matter how obsessed Thracia was with breeding cavalry, it was impossible to fill the ranks solely with Bluecoats from the start.
Aside from their underwhelming pay relative to their value and exploits, arming and maintaining a single Bluecoat cost nearly as much as outfitting and sustaining a poor knight—give or take a bit of exaggeration.
That's why Thracia had invested heavily in light cavalry units, which were cheaper yet could fill a similar role to a degree.
They were underrated due to the Bluecoats' towering reputation, but Thracia's light cavalry were formidable troops in their own right.
It was only natural.
The vast majority of Bluecoats had started as light cavalrymen, earning their blue coats through proven experience and skill.
In short: pick the craziest light cavalry bastards, slap heavy armor on them, roll them through battlefields, and boom—new Bluecoat recruit.
Anyway, the image of light cavalry as scrawny guys in flimsy armor clutching a single lance didn't exist in Thracia—at least not the combat ones.
Excluding messengers and scouts, most Thracia light cavalry were properly equipped with iron helmets and breastplates.
When the fewer Bluecoats up front broke the enemy lines, these light cavalry followed, plunging into the fray to rack up kills. They also played the hammer role where Bluecoats were absent.
If those guys were pushovers, that'd be the real oddity.
Put simply, it was as if Major Lennin and his eleven hundred light cavalry—who'd been raiding Astoria's rear with us—had joined my command.
"Has northern army history ever seen this much cavalry concentrated in one place?"
Major General Barnichi exclaimed as the cavalry units arrived one after another at Renkamp Fortress.
He was right.
Until now, Thracia had operated cavalry at company level, battalion at most.
Not for any grand reason—just that it had always been enough to dominate the battlefield.
If pressed, it was the result of legion commanders' rivalries and interests, each wanting as many cavalry as possible under their thumb.
But the world had changed.
The new battlefield was incomparably vast.
To play a role where thousands clashed with tens of thousands, cavalry tactics had to evolve.
Clinging to old ways would just repeat last year's crushing defeat.
...Or so I'd thought when I started this.
Neigh.
Snort.
Seeing over a thousand cavalry assembled on the plain ignited an inexplicable heat within me.
"Hoo."
My breath came short for no reason.
My heart pounded uncontrollably.
Right now, it felt like we could do more than just delay the enemy—we could achieve something greater.
"No. Even so, that's going too far."
I suppressed the surging confidence welling up inside.
No matter how many cavalry we had, ending the war ourselves? Ridiculous.
...Or was it really impossible?
**
To delay the Astoria army's southward advance, thirteen hundred fifty Thracia cavalry assembled on the plain before Renkamp Fortress.
At this point, they had no name.
They were simply called the suicide squad.
It was a modest beginning, hardly befitting the grand glory and lofty name they would one day claim.
End of Chapter 20: Before the Grand Glory, There Was a Humble Beginning (3)