Chapter 194
Chapter 194
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: Battle of the Linz Plains (6)
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Surrounded on all sides—front, left flank, and right—by the infantry of the Reich Empire's army, with over ten thousand knights swarming in from the rear.
To the Reich Empire's forces, this was the perfect moment to annihilate the enemy knights. But to the Ostrica Archduchy's army, it was the absolute worst—the moment that sealed their defeat.
The Ostrica knights, shrouded in the shadow of defeat, were left with only two choices: flee or resist to the bitter end and die right there.
"Honorable knights of the Ostrica Archduchy! Even if we all perish here today, let us not surrender our lives shamefully or run away!"
"Our brave battle will be remembered forever by our descendants!"
"Death is but a moment, but honor endures eternally! Take up your swords and fight the enemy!"
The officers leading the knights steeled themselves to struggle pointlessly and die, just as they had been taught at the academy, the staff college, and in their noble upbringing.
They naturally issued orders to their subordinate knights to join them in death.
"Fuck that, I want to live!"
"The condolence money we'll get after you lot die won't even put food on our families' tables!"
"If you're gonna die, do it alone! You incompetent bastard!"
The commoner knights—classified as knights only because they wore iron armor, but really just professional soldiers—naturally rebelled against orders to die honorably in battle.
Because, as they shouted, while nobles' families would be fine even if they died,
the condolence payments to the families of soldiers and NCOs killed in a lost battle amounted to barely more than a pittance.
It was obvious what would happen to their families' futures if they fought fiercely here and died heroically.
Meanwhile, as the saying goes, "one man's misfortune is another man's fortune." In exchange for the dire misfortune befalling the Ostrica knights,
the Reich Empire's knights were granted the golden opportunity to rack up merits as they pleased.
Major General Carlos, leading the knights who understood the situation, raised his lance and bellowed,
"His Highness the Crown Prince has given us this chance to rampage! Surely none of you fools here would pass up such a glorious opportunity?"
The knights responded with a roar.
"I'm getting promoted this time—gonna buy my wife a new dress!"
"Stars on my shoulders, let's go! No better chance than now!"
"Raaah! You dogshit scum blocking His Highness's path! I'll smash you to pulp today!"
The infantry had already laid out the feast; all they had to do was grab a spoon. Failing even that would mean their chance at promotion might never come again.
Fortunately for the Crown Prince and Lieutenant General Jaeger, not a single one of the Imperial knights under Major General Carlos had any intention of passing it up.
They executed a textbook charge against the Ostrica Archduchy knights, just as they had trained dozens or hundreds of times before.
Moreover, unlike the Reich Empire's infantry, these dismounted Ostrica knights wore full iron plate armor, but
they didn't even have long spears capable of stopping a charge from over 600kg behemoths.
"Mom! I don't wanna die here!! Waaah!"
"You crazy fuck, don't charge forward! Just stand there and die! Die alone, you bastard!"
"Waaaaaah! Incoming!!"
So the knights were either trampled into minced meat under massive hooves weighing hundreds of kilos, their iron shells cracking open, or sent flying by impacts, dying from the collisions.
On top of that, Ostrica knights fleeing rearward to survive the vanguard clashed with those rushing forward to escape the approaching Reich Empire knights from behind.
They toppled like dominoes, crushed under each other—some dying instantly from the shock, others suffocating slowly.
Major General Carlos thought,
'I'd love to pull back, charge again, and wipe them all out. But for the next operation, we need to withdraw.'
"Leave this front to the infantry and fall back! Return to base, catch your breath, and grab fresh lances!"
Following the order, the Reich Empire knights regretfully obeyed and returned to base.
"We had their backs—we should've charged three or four more times."
"Can't be helped. Chase down their generals and take their heads instead."
"Head back, grab some water, and wait for the next order."
As they withdrew, an infantry division held in reserve moved up to replace the knights, blocking the Ostrica knights' retreat.
Thus, Ostrica's twenty thousand knights, their combat effectiveness shattered, were trapped on all sides with no way out.
"Your Grace, the 9th Division can't hold against the Reich Empire infantry's fierce assault and requests permission to retreat! What are your orders?"
"Your Grace, 11th Division Commander Baron Peter von Vine has fallen in battle."
"Your Grace, Reich Empire infantry are enveloping our forces from both flanks!"
The Grand Duke of Ostrica felt like he was going mad amid the endless stream of defeat reports.
'We have more troops—where the hell are we losing? Damn it, if only I could look down on the battlefield from the sky.'
But in this era, with no drone technology, all commanders had to imagine the battlefield's progress based solely on messengers' reports.
They had to decide where to send reinforcements and which subunits from which units to deploy accordingly.
And now, the Ostrica Grand Duke had exceeded the limits of what he could envision with his own abilities—he simply couldn't decide on orders.
"Staff! Right now, based on all the messengers' reports so far, draw a picture of our army's situation! Make it rough if you have to—just hurry!"
At his command, the staff officers around the Grand Duke reviewed the messengers' reports one by one and sketched maps.
In the midst of it, Max von Venner had a gut feeling.
'Ah, my brother-in-law said if it looks like Ostrica's losing big, my mission's done and to get out. Time to prepare my escape.'
Then, while the other staffers scrambled for solutions around the Grand Duke, he pondered how to flee as safely as possible.
Surviving and returning would be enough, but if he could grab as much intel as possible and shake up the Ostrica formation on his way out...
'I could rack up merits equal to a whole regiment on my own. Damn it, I'll use any means to restore my honor and return to my wife and kids as a father they can be proud of.'
Gnashing his teeth as he scanned his surroundings, Venner's eyes landed on Matthias—the traitor who had abandoned the Empire and his former friend.
For some reason, today Matthias's nape looked irresistibly appealing, like a work of art.
Suddenly clutching his stomach, Venner said,
"Matthias, sorry about this. Mind coming to the latrine with me? My gut's killing me."
"Hah, fuck. I told you yesterday not to drink so much even if you wanna impress His Grace! You can't wander camp alone anyway. Wait up."
"Thanks, buddy."
"If you're sorry, think of how we save His Grace from this mess. If he wins, you could snag a hotter, sexier official wife than those girls we used to hang with. Fresh start, right?"
With that, Matthias approached a colonel wearing a staff armband near the Grand Duke for permission.
The two moved to an unobserved corner of the camp, where Venner quietly dropped his pants, squatted, and began relieving himself.
"Sorry, buddy."
"What're friends for? Truth be told, you're one of only four guys here I trust with my life. If you're that grateful, buy me a drink after we win and get back. I'll hook you up with a spot."
"Thanks a ton, you bastard."
Thus, Venner and Matthias shared a heartfelt chat in the camp's corner, like friends of decades.
"Hey, actually, I've got a good plan. You still have that troop deployment map you were working on?"
Matthias found it suspicious but didn't suspect much.
"Why, you cook up some secret strategy without me?"
"We have more troops, so mobilize rear units and hit the Empire's left flank. That'll open a breathing hole."
"......Why tell me?"
"Even if I say it, His Grace might not believe me. Better if you relay it and get it approved. Turn the tide, you get promoted, and I get scraps, right?"
Matthias was deeply moved. Just then, Venner finished up and quietly stood.
Matthias patted Venner's shoulder gratefully, about to continue, but in that instant, no words came.
A dagger was plunged into his throat—his windpipe—producing only the hiss of escaping air and bubbling blood no matter what he tried to say.
Looking down pityingly at his old friend, Venner said,
"You fucking traitor Matthias, my brother-in-law gave you a chance to live—you shouldn't have stuck around. One more thing: from His Grace's hints, once this battle's over, he's planning to kill all five of us, me included. You're worse than useless, you idiot."
With that, he granted dying Matthias one final mercy, severing his last breath.
Then, grabbing the troop deployment map Matthias had made, he slipped carefully out of the camp.
"Fuck, if I deliver this intel to my brother-in-law on time, I'll restore my honor—no getting stuck riding his coattails as some promoted lackey when I return."