Chapter 218
Chapter 218
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 218
Chapter Title: Osby Plains Great Battle (3)
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The armies of the Stockholm Kingdom and the Reich Empire were now close enough to make out the silhouettes of massed troops, though not individual faces.
They shouted back and forth at each other, but the words were indistinct. Still, the volume of the cheers gave a rough sense of the enemy's morale.
Sergeant Allez, a veteran of several wars with the Stockholm Kingdom forces, had a gut feeling about the state of the Reich Empire troops.
"Those crazy Reich Empire bastards... We're twice their number, but they don't look scared at all. Damn, did they drink some legendary courage potion or what?"
He grumbled lightly for the troops' morale, but inside, Sergeant Allez was burning with anxiety.
With the Stockholm Kingdom army outnumbering them two to one, victory was likely—but unfortunately, his unit was positioned near the vanguard.
That meant they'd definitely clash directly with the Imperials.
Fighting men with sky-high morale meant a high chance of getting killed.
"Deputy platoon leader, what do you make of the enemy's condition?"
"We'll know once we engage. You can't tell until you fight. Plenty of guys who look tough turn out to be trash in the thick of it."
"You've got real combat experience, unlike me. I won't hold it against you if you're wrong—just give me your honest take."
"I don't know why those bastards are acting like that with us nearly twice their number up front. But from the cheers carrying over, it's clear. Not a single one of them is scared."
Lieutenant Boris shook his head vigorously at that.
"They say the enemy's deputy commander is that Jaeger fellow, and even with us outnumbering them two to one, their morale isn't breaking. From the outside, you'd think we were the invaders and they were the righteous defenders of the homeland."
"Still, look on the bright side. If Jaeger's commanding them, taking his head means you'll get promoted to major at least, maybe even a baron's title. I might snag a knighthood myself and hit the jackpot. Then I can ignore that nagging wife of mine and take a pretty concubine from the next village over, no matter what she says."
"Same here. I'm thinking of ditching the ugly wife I got through a political marriage—who just lords it over me because of her family—and getting a cute young girl as a concubine."
The more scared soldiers get, the more pre-battle banter turns to talk of women, with the crudeness scaling to their fear.
In that sense, the platoon leader and his deputy openly discussing replacing their wives with young concubines meant...
They were all too cowardly to whine about being in the vanguard—lest they face military law—or to run, and they were desperately hiding their true feelings about facing an army led by a madman who'd swept through their main camp at midnight with a thousand cavalry archers.
Soon after, trumpets blared, and the Stockholm Kingdom's overall commander, Bwadisław von Basa, gave the order.
"We will drive out the wicked invaders of the Reich Empire with our own hands! For the kingdom's glory, to repay His Majesty's grace, to protect our families and homes—fight without fear of death! All forces, advance!"
With the commander's order, countless banners fluttered, and the 200,000-strong legion advanced as one.
Meanwhile, the Reich Empire troops poured out fresh waves of boiling rage and fury at the sight of the oncoming enemy.
"Because of those sons of bitches, we spun our wheels marching for over a month like dogs, and the moment we arrive, no rest—just whittling stakes like idiots?"
"Damn it, I already slipped on sergeant promotion in my later years, and now dragged to this battlefield on top of that. Those sewer-drinking scum forced the generals to make us cozy up for that damn work."
"Don't even get me started, Sergeant Bremen. You're better off. I was taking a breather during work when the brigade commander next to me started sawing with a face full of fury. Thought my heart was gonna stop."
Even elite soldiers feel some fear facing more than twice their number, hesitating before battle.
So it was only natural for the Reich Empire troops—even those who'd survived Peter Jaeger's and the red-bereted 7th Guard Division instructors' hellish training—to be somewhat daunted by the overwhelming numbers.
But as the saying goes, sometimes rage erases even fear. After over a month marching through freezing snowfields, then capping it off with brutal stake-whittling alongside a four-star general, the troops had utterly forgotten their terror.
They burned with anger and resentment at the stupid white northern bears of Stockholm for forcing them into horrific labor no other soldiers had even heard of.
Major General Peter Jaeger had only ordered the stakes to prepare for unknown Stockholm knights approaching from any direction...
But the unexpected effect tempted him like the devil's whisper.
'If I get stars and become commander, when we're at a disadvantage, I lead by example and put everyone to work under the banner of victory in war? Channel that anger into morale boost. Could be a breakthrough morale tactic. Hmm.'
As he pondered this, a messenger rushed to Jaeger's side.
"Deputy Commander Jaeger, sir! The Stockholm bastards are advancing!"
"Tell the 5,000 cavalry archers and 5,000 knights lying in ambush near the forest by our left flank to stay hidden. No movement until I signal. Also, relay that as the enemy approaches, our troops will respond with arrows and magic."
"Yes, sir!"
With that, the messenger spurred his horse toward the knights and cavalry archers. Flag bearers and trumpeters relayed the attack order to the ranged units in their own ways.
Once the command reached them, the crossbowmen, archers, and mages—faces twisted with grievance and fury—shouted at the top of their lungs.
"Right in front of you are those worthless Stockholm white bear idiots who caused that hellish work! Kill every last one!"
"Until further orders, fire on my command! Now—loose!"
"Burn them all with your rage! Don't leave a single one!"
Normally, their words and expressions were fiery, but they issued orders coolly.
But under the overwhelming pretext of "for the Empire's victory," even the aristocratic officers—who never thought they'd dirty their hands—had no choice but to join the labor alongside the four-star general.
And with the four-star silently toiling, the division commanders—who could move mountains with a word and wore two stars—personally chewed out any regimental or battalion commanders slacking even a little.
No one dared slack off during that hellish ordeal, and the memory made fury surge.
So they maximized their rational anger, and the troops were even more incensed.
Archers, crossbowmen, and mages fired at the enemy faster than in any drill.
"Because of those sled-riding barbarians, we suffered like dogs!"
"Worse than northern Ludwig scum, born from a sodomite's ass..."
"Die and fall to hell, you trash who'll be scorned even there!"
That rage-fueled barrage struck the Stockholm soldiers—who hadn't really committed great sins—and their numbers began to dwindle.
Of course, the Kingdom army—with twice as many men—killed more Imperials in the ranged exchange...
"Damn bastards, do they have infinite arrows or something?"
"Why are crossbow bolts coming again already?"
"What the hell with that arrow and magic fire rate? What kind of training is that, fuck...?"
The Reich Empire's furious rapid fire panicked the Stockholm troops and officers.
Seeing this, Kingdom commander Bwadisław flew into a rage and barked orders.
"All forces, increase advance speed! Use any means to close to melee as fast as possible!!"
As Bwadisław pushed the advance, Peter Jaeger commanded:
"Don't respond to their provocations even if they close in. Ranged troops, fall back while keeping up fire! No melee until quivers are empty!"