Chapter 53: Borrowed Knife to Kill
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 53: Borrowed Knife to Kill
The enemy forces that emerged from the Twin Towers formed a horizontal line. Seeing as they weren't moving, they must have decided it was more advantageous to defend the hill than to strike us while our own lines were still forming.
Their forces numbered around two hundred, with about thirty elite troops among them. They had fewer than ten cavalrymen, even including Powell Osborne and his two knights.
“Though the enemy has twice our numbers, our elite troops are evenly matched, and we hold the advantage in cavalry. This means they are an opponent we can certainly defeat, provided we have both wisdom and courage.”
Since the vassals, all heirs to influential families, were cavalry, our core fighting strength was superior.
“It’s all thanks to Sir Allen for taking out those two knights!”
It wasn't just the soldiers whose attitudes had changed after I lured the enemy out of the tower with three stones.
Several of the vassals gazed at me with awe. Even Bolton, who had constantly been at odds with me, was looking at me differently.
Of course, in his case, it wasn't a good thing. I had killed two knights and made the enemy forces walk right out of the tower they were defending.
These were already great achievements, and if I were to add to them in the coming battle, this war would truly become mine and mine alone.
Conversely, it meant that Bolton and the other vassals would receive a meager reward for their investment. It wouldn't be a loss, but for an investment as risky as war, it wouldn't be much of a gain either.
That was why Bolton had no choice but to make a proposal.
“Sir Allen, leave the right flank to us.”
The role of the right flank was to break through the enemy's left flank and encircle their entire army. Because of its importance, the right flank was usually given a larger share of the spoils after a battle.
Bolton, who was on track to go home empty-handed, was trying to make up for it all in one battle. And that wasn't all. If they successfully carried out the role of the right flank, they could even become the first-class contributors of the war.
His ulterior motive was obvious, but it was a proposal I couldn't simply refuse.
It was customary to position elite troops or cavalry with strong breakthrough capabilities on the right flank, which was tasked with shattering the enemy line. The vassals, being all cavalry, were a suitable choice.
“Ahem.”
It wasn't just the vassals who coveted the right flank. Piole, who was standing behind me, cleared her throat and poked me in the back. A moment later, she spoke in a voice only I could hear.
“Don't forget your promise.”
The other day, I had promised Piole that if she followed me, I would grant her achievements and fame so great that no one could look down on her for being a woman. It seemed she saw the right flank as the perfect opportunity to fulfill that promise.
I fell silent and took them all in at a glance. Their faces were flushed, and they couldn't keep still.
‘They're all excited.’
Had my heroic deeds and the favorable turn of the battle led them to imagine a rosy future? Or perhaps it was simply their lack of experience.
As heirs to influential families, they were young, and this was likely the first war they had participated in as key players. Piole was no exception.
The same was true for me, but the difference was that I knew our opponent, Powell Osborne, was no pushover.
‘The Fox of the Battlefield is no empty title.’
Powell Osborne may have been repeatedly outmaneuvered by me, but that was only because he was encountering unconventional tactics for the first time.
A knight who earned his fame through strategy rather than brute force would surely display even greater strength in an open battle. And indeed, something unusual caught my eye.
‘He's concentrated his elite troops on the left flank.’
As I mentioned, it was customary to place elite troops on the right flank. This was for the simple reason that most soldiers were right-handed. Consequently, the most common tactic was for the right flank to break through the enemy's left and execute an encirclement.
But Powell Osborne had concentrated his thirty elite troops on his left flank. He had even placed twice as many soldiers there as in the center or on the right.
‘He wouldn't have concentrated his forces just to withstand our right flank.’
Regardless, the enemy still had twice our numbers. They had no reason to play defensively. Moreover, our opponent was the man they called the Fox of the Battlefield. He definitely had a scheme in mind.
The problem was that there was no way to know his intentions until we engaged. That meant I had to be cautious.
Only one thing was certain. People devise schemes based on conventional assumptions. A clever strategist might prepare secondary or tertiary countermeasures for unexpected moves, but the primary scheme would always be the most important.
‘In that case, the tempting right flank must be the most dangerous place.’
Having organized my thoughts, I turned to the vassals, who were staring at me like baby birds with their beaks wide open, waiting for their mother to feed them.
“Still, wouldn't our breakthrough power be greater if I took the right flank?”
The vassals hurriedly waved their hands in refusal.
“We are more than enough on our own!”
“Sir, haven't you just fought a fierce duel? Please, leave the right flank to us!”
“Holding the line is just as important as breaking through! We would feel much more secure if you took command of the left flank, Sir.”
It seemed the other vassals had belatedly realized Bolton's intentions and decided to join him. I stepped back, feigning reluctance.
“Well, you all came to this battlefield with your own ambitions. It wouldn't look right for me to monopolize all the glory.”
I was letting them know I saw right through their scheme, while also making it clear that this was my concession to them. It was a way to prevent them from trying the same thing again.
The vassals thanked me with awkward smiles. Of course, it was impossible to satisfy everyone.
“You idiot! How could you give up the right flank so easily? Killing two knights and luring the enemy out of the tower is nothing compared to making a direct contribution to the victory!”
While the vassals gathered their troops and moved to the right flank to form their lines, Piole, now alone with me in the command tent, showed her true colors. I poured her some wine from a brass flask.
“You can't go through this world alone. They've risked their lives to come to this battlefield. If they have nothing to gain, they won't follow me anymore.”
It was an excuse. I couldn't tell her I'd given it up because I suspected the right flank was dangerous. My reasoning was flimsy, and knowing Piole, she might have been willing to take the risk for glory. She had a daring streak.
“Then you should have at least put me on the right flank!”
Wasn't this what she really wanted to say all along? Her intentions were so transparent that I couldn't help but smile.
“You have another job to do.”
“A job?”
“There's no rule that says the left flank always has to be on the defensive, is there?”
Powell Osborne's troop deployment had given me an idea. With me, Piole, and thirty elite mercenaries, couldn't our left flank take on the role of the right?
“You... you had a plan all along, didn't you?”
“Piole. Will you join me?”
“You've already created a situation where I have no choice. What's the point in asking?”
She spoke bluntly, but a grin spread across her face.
Once our lines were formed, I drew my sword and stood before my men. The elite mercenaries I'd hired looked tense. Needless to say, the regular soldiers were even worse off.
Facing an enemy force roughly double their size, it was only natural for them to be afraid. Unlike the overconfident vassals, these men were realists.
At this rate, we would lose before the battle even began. I raised my sword high and shouted.
“I don't ask for your loyalty! That's a burden for knights like me to bear! I want you to think only of what lies beyond this battle! You've all heard that the enemy's domain is rich in resources!”
Baron Debussy's domain was famous for its many fine vineyards. The wine made from his grapes was even supplied to the royal court. Besides, alcohol was one commodity that would remain popular even at the end of the world.
“Once we break them, there will be no one left to stop us for some time! That means you can all return home as rich men! I'm not asking you to fight for me! Think only of the riches you will gain!”
“RAH! RAH! RAH!”
The spearmen pounded the butts of their spears on the ground, and the swordsmen struck their shields. Their grips on their weapons tightened, and their feet dug into the earth, ready to charge at a moment's notice.
A fire lit up in the soldiers' eyes. The thrill of battle and the promise of wealth had ignited their spirits. Fear was no longer in them.
I pointed my raised sword toward the enemy and roared.
“Plunder!”
Piole gave me an impressed look and blew her horn.
Bwooo— Bwooo— Bwooo—
Our army advanced in a single line. The enemy didn't move until we were about halfway up the hill. But their movement was strange.
Their right flank held its position, their center advanced slowly, and their left flank moved at a normal pace, gradually forming an oblique formation.
At this rate, their left flank would swallow our right before our left flank even engaged their right. After annihilating our right flank, their left would then move to encircle our entire army.
‘So that's why he concentrated his elites on the left flank.’
It was an encirclement-and-annihilation tactic using the left flank, the complete opposite of convention. Ultimately, it was similar to the plan I had in mind. That meant victory would be decided by who could destroy the other's right flank first.
There was no more time to think. The enemy closed the distance in an instant, and their advancing left flank clashed with our right.
Clang—
The clash of steel announced the start of the battle.
“Piole! We have to annihilate their right flank before their left flank breaks through and encircle them! It's a race against time!”
We were starting at a great disadvantage, as my left flank would engage their right flank much later. To make up for the lost time, I spurred my horse forward as soon as I gave Piole the order.
“Keep up! If any of you lag behind, you'll answer to me!”
Piole immediately led the elite mercenaries after me. The funny thing was, in the blink of an eye, she overtook me and reached the enemy's right flank first. The difference in our horsemanship was clear.
“Hiyahh!”
Piole charged like a bolt of lightning. A startled enemy soldier reflexively thrust his spear, but she batted the shaft aside with her sword, pressed forward, and sliced the throat of the man who had tried to kill her.
With every seemingly effortless thrust of her sword, another enemy soldier fell. Her horse moved in perfect sync, carrying her to the next target.
She was the perfect picture of 'man and horse as one.' I had seen it when she fought Jude Horn, but her horsemanship was truly on another level.
In mounted combat, she could probably make short work of most knights.
I didn't stay idle. I followed in the path she carved, cutting down the soldiers who tried to attack her from behind.
“Oh?”
Piole, realizing the enemy she was about to strike was already gone, shot me a sideways glance and grinned.
“You're bound to fall if you only look ahead.”
“Then you can just watch my back, can't you?”
She must have been caught up in the heat of the moment to make such a bold statement. Then, perhaps realizing how her words sounded, she whipped her head away and spurred her horse on.
“I'm going on ahead!”
Because the enemy had concentrated their elite troops on the left flank, their right flank was poorly equipped. They stood no chance of stopping me and Piole, nor the thirty elite mercenaries following us.
“Reserves! Advance!”
Powell Osborne didn't stand idle. As his right flank was instantly breached, he moved to block my path with his reserves.
It was a reserve force he could only afford because he had twice our numbers. Though they weren't numerous, they were better equipped than his right flank.
Despite the chaos of the battlefield, my eyes met Powell Osborne's. He smiled and spoke.
“A duel is nothing like a war. You're hopelessly surrounded. You're already a dead man. Surrender!”
Powell Osborne's reserves blocked our path, while the remnants of the right flank we had just broken through began to encircle us from behind. We were surrounded on all sides.
And that wasn't all. Our cavalry on the right flank, which had charged so fiercely into the enemy's left, had lost its momentum. One by one, they were being dragged from their horses and beheaded. Our infantry was suffering the same fate.
At this rate, the annihilation of our right flank was only a matter of time. Powell Osborne had won the race against time.
His tactics and leadership were truly formidable. So much so that the title 'Fox of the Battlefield' felt like an understatement.
And yet, I smiled.
“You think I'm losing?”
“Can't you see the situation you're in?”
“There's a saying that war is merely an extension of politics.”
How could the deaths of those vassals be a loss for me? The fewer of them there are, the more Segerik will have to rely on me.
Furthermore, as they died, they took the enemy's elite troops with them. In other words, while it looked like I was the one surrounded, the number of elite soldiers who could actually stop me had been reduced to single digits. And even those few were at the rear of the formation, the farthest point from me.
“What...!”
“This is what I mean! Hiyah!”
I spurred my horse forward. If I could just break through Powell Osborne's reserves, I could turn the tide of this battle.
Even with a spear aimed right at it, my horse charged forward, caught up in the frenzy. Before the spear could find its mark, I swung my sword and batted the shaft away.
As if in gratitude, my horse carried me close to an enemy soldier, and I swung my sword in time with its movement. A diagonal slash, thrown with all my strength, split the man in two.
It was a gruesome sight, rare even on a battlefield, and it reminded the enemy soldiers of the massacre they had witnessed in the tower.
“Agh! I-It's the devil! The devil is back!”
The soldiers around the dead man stumbled backward. Fear was highly contagious. Even those who hadn't seen what happened were swept up in the panic and began to fall back.
“Do not retreat! Do not...”
Powell Osborne shouted belatedly, but I was already exploiting the opening that had formed. Piole and the elite mercenaries followed me. Our right flank was not far off.