Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Becoming a Wave of Iron Armor (5)
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"Astoria's main force has begun to move."
I nodded at the scout's report.
"Kazan is doing well."
"We're not even asking them to fight like us—just to imitate our tactics. If they can't even manage that, they should all just go die."
Jamal voiced his complaints as if he'd been waiting for the chance.
"Honestly, in the last battle, those Kazan bastards didn't do much either. They just took a beating all day and then ran away."
He had a point.
They got pummeled by the mage corps, hammered by the crossbowmen, and then surrounded and beaten like dogs again. That was pretty much all the Kazan forces had accomplished in the previous battle.
"That was their role from the start."
The Kazan's job had always been to draw Astoria's attention and pin down their heavy cavalry.
"Even with their morale in the gutter after the defeat, they held formation against twice their number, taking hit after hit while keeping the Astorians tied down until the end. That's more than enough from them."
"Even so, handing over all of western Astoria to them feels a bit much..."
Ah. So that's the grudge our Lieutenant Jamal harbors.
A glance around showed the others wore much the same expression as Jamal.
Who would want to share the spoils won with their lives on the line?
Astoria's cold, barren lands held no value for Thracia. Claiming them would only stretch our borders and increase the military burden.
And besides...
"That land is a poisoned chalice."
Astoria's west was too close to their central heartland, where their capital lay.
Thracia had seized some Astorian territory, sure—but only enough to push the border a bit(?). The west, though, bordered their core directly.
The burden they felt was on another level.
That's why Astoria prioritized securing the west over the south.
"Then what have we even accomplished? We barely gained any land—what did all those soldiers die for?"
"Land was never the point from the start."
To repeat: Astoria's territory held little value for Thracia.
"What matters are the fortresses."
We'd captured most of the modern fortresses in southern Astoria.
Now they had to rely on outdated castles and strongholds—vulnerable to mage corps bombardment—for defense.
That was a massive burden and risk.
"They have two options."
Replace the old forts with new ones to rebuild the front lines, or raise an army to retake the lost ones and restore their original borders.
Either way, it'd drain massive time, budget, and manpower.
Exhausting Astoria's national strength.
That was King Igor's reason for starting this war.
"I don't get it. What if they raise another army to take back the forts? Won't we just bleed for nothing and take the losses anyway?"
Our Lieutenant Jamal was awfully worried about the kingdom today.
"No chance."
Thracia's fertile plains couldn't compare to Astoria's harsh, frozen wastes in recovery power—and more importantly, they could never start a war against us.
First, they'd have to pry Kazan's dagger from their throat right at their central border.
That's why we handed them the west in the first place.
Of course, Jamal would ask next:
"Then why do the Kazan even want that useless land? It makes no sense."
I laughed at the question, exactly as predicted.
"Just because it's worthless to us doesn't mean it is to them."
To the Kazan, who relied so heavily on dedicated plunder units, the west was a gateway to a feast laid out for them.
I guarantee those Astorians will suffer bandit raids like never before for a good while.
Just thinking about it makes me grin.
"Hm."
Jamal still looked puzzled.
To Bluecoats who lived spear-tip to spear-tip, the long game of international relations must seem like another world.
I didn't bother enlightening him—instead, I focused on the task at hand.
"Call all the commanders."
Soon enough, they gathered around me.
"Astoria's main force has started moving."
Tension instantly etched across their faces the moment I finished speaking.
It was unavoidable.
"As planned, we hit their main body."
The enemy we'd face this time was on a whole different scale.
"......"
The commanders fell silent.
Even the brave souls who'd charged eight thousand Astorians without hesitation were at a loss now.
Understandable.
Fourteen thousand strong.
Over ten times our number, by simple math.
None of us had ever seen that many troops in one place.
Charging an enemy of unseen scale? Even I thought it was insane.
And this time, no Kazan to draw their eyes.
"Assume fourteen thousand marching in a single column: even in ten ranks, that's at least 2.5 kilometers. Factor in the baggage train, and it could stretch over three."
But crisis is just opportunity in disguise.
"But their commander's Nightheart. He won't neglect flank security even on the march."
If he detached forces to thicken the wings, their column would shorten to about 1.3 to 1.5 kilometers.
1.3 or 3—it was still a sight few would ever witness.
"You're all lucky. Not just seeing that spectacle up close, but charging it? You won't find an experience like that anywhere else. Hell, it'll pay for drinks the rest of your lives."
The commanders laughed.
Stiff laughs, tension not fully broken.
"Forget the column's length. Forget fourteen thousand. Erase it from your minds."
But that was fine.
"In that stretched-out line, the enemies we'll actually clash spears with? At most three thousand. Three per man."
A bit of healthy tension would sharpen their senses.
"Charge in, kill three each, and break off. Easy as pie for us."
Of course, it wouldn't be that simple.
About 25 seconds from entering archer range to impact on first clash.
We'd hit their blind spot, but they'd fight desperately—so waves one and two would each endure at least four volleys in those 25 seconds.
Then pierce their stacked human wall for at least 200 meters.
Any delay in breakthrough, and we could stall in their center and get swarmed.
Withdrawal was risky too.
Hesitate even a moment, and mage bombardment rains down.
But I didn't voice it.
They already knew.
"Understood? Jamal. Ivan. Lamir. Yuri. Laksey. Garel. Hinche..."
I called out the Bluecoats' names one by one.
Thirty in total.
The best from each platoon—many squad leaders among them.
"You stand with me at the front."
Breakthrough speed was key this mission.
The best had to lead.
"Named Bluecoats: focus solely on vanguard duty, not command."
No one objected.
Even though they all knew.
How perilous that spot was.
"If the man ahead falls, speed up and fill the gap. Never give the enemy an opening."
"When first wave hits, second follows immediately. Too fast, and second wave's pointless. Too slow, they reform. Timing is everything."
"Once combat starts, only forward. The commander-in-chief's flag will be our guide."
I issued orders for a good while longer.
My throat was already hoarse.
No matter.
After this briefing, no more need for words.
Cavalry commanders lead with their backs, not their voices.
"That's all. Return and rest at will. Tomorrow will be grueling."
I planned to do the same.
We were deep in Astoria's west now.
Unlike the border flats with nowhere to hide, this region had plenty of cover.
Good ambush spots could drastically cut their reaction time.
Of course, they'd use scouts too and stay cautious—but covering this vast area perfectly was impossible.
A bit irresponsible, but we had to trust to luck now.
"Johanna. Say a prayer."
Unlike us faithless Thracians, she'd prayed steadily to the gods. The defector gave me an incredulous look.
"I just don't get it. If you're that scared, why take this risk?"
She sighed deeply and spilled her thoughts haphazardly.
"I can't understand attacking their main force. Are we all suicidal? Or bloodthirsty? For glory? Honor? What drives you to this madness?"
We baffled her completely.
"Astorians wouldn't get it. The heart of those with something to protect."
"What nonsense."
She brushed off my wistful tone without effect.
Tch.
Takes after her father, huh?
Not a shred of sentiment in this Astorian.
"A warmonger like you playing victim now? Laughable."
She snorted.
"You wouldn't know, but Thracia doesn't strike first lightly. Your lands—Astoria, Kazan—they're worthless to us."
"Worthless, yet you invade just fine."
"Best defense is a good offense?"
Sophistry, maybe—but stone-cold fact.
"Thracia's fought three hundred wars since founding. A hundred against Kazan and others—the rest two hundred? All against you Astorians."
Fertile lands right under barren north.
Neighboring have-nots drooling was natural.
"Of those two hundred, Astoria struck first a hundred fifty times. Believe me now?"
Thracia was prosperous compared to neighbors.
But not overwhelmingly so. Not a big nation.
That was the problem.
A mid-sized power on prime real estate? Neighbors wouldn't stand by.
To me, Thracia's founding king was a land deal scam victim.
Or dazzled by the facade, blind to the future.
Either way, knowing the endless harassment, he'd have thought twice.
"What entitled whining."
Johanna von Bauer stayed cynical throughout.
"Entitled? Sure. Only 'cause we're full can we spout this. When tomorrow's survival ain't guaranteed."
I playfully patted my belly; she scowled fiercely.
"No need to overthink. Keep it simple: we fight 'cause we must, and 'cause we can."
Ignoring her, I clasped hands behind my head and flopped back.
"Plus some revenge. We got beef with Nightheart."
Different positions, upbringings.
I had no way to make her see it.
And honestly, no grand reason anyway.
"Isn't war always like that?"
In the thick of it, you forget why.
Just to survive. To win, if possible. That's the battlefield—a mob clawing to live.
"Need a cause? Ask in the capital later. Those folks'll spin a fine one."
"Hmph. A commander who can't answer that? Pathetic."
"Fair. But can't be helped."
Old memories surfacing were all hazy.
"Truth is, I forgot."
Why I joined the army. Why I'm still here.
"Someone remind me sometime."
"......"
Expected pity, but silence.
"You..."
I turned; Johanna von Bauer stared with a complicated expression.
"Friendship hour's over for today. Get too close too fast, spoils the fun. Save the rest for later."
"Friendship my ass! Bullshit!"
I ignored her outburst and gazed at the sky.
To me, it was vividly clear.
The churning air, war clouds cresting to the horizon.
Swipe.
I reached out.
Grasped nothing.
Yet I was certain.
The end of the war was nearly upon us.
