Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Northern Conquest Battle (3)
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Before the tribal alliance centered on Ludwig and the Imperial Northern Army faced off on the Königsher Plains, a total of twenty tribes had surrendered to our Northern Army.
Among them, three tribes were judged to be spies because they spouted inconsistent nonsense or were caught searching for information to pass to Ludwig's agents, so I executed every adult male from those tribes.
After that, I gave the children, women, and elderly just enough rations to keep them from dying outright, then bound them like strings of dried fish with ropes and dragged them along in lines.
The rest of the surrendered barbarians, fearing they'd suffer the same fate, immediately reported anyone who tried to make contact—spies sent by Ludwig himself.
We caught fifty such spies just on the march here.
Commanders share these stories with the troops right before clashing swords and spears with the enemy, and it does wonders for boosting morale.
"Our Northern Army is strong. As proof, haven't over twenty wretched barbarian tribes under Ludwig already surrendered to us!"
"How terrified of the Empire must he be to send fifty spies instead of scouts? And how sloppy must he be for us to catch so many!"
"The great Reich Empire is invincible, and the barbarians are worth less than a handful of dust!"
Other units exploited this fully to stoke the soldiers' battle fury.
The troops responded to those shouts with a burning desire to return home alive, ambitions of promotions and rewards, and fierce longing for a swift discharge.
But our 24th Regiment had already repelled the Tunner tribe and handled numerous barbarian incursions over the past year or so.
We didn't need long-winded speeches.
So I bellowed to the men, short and sharp.
"Victory is assured now that we're here! Let's seize glory and head home."
It was an arrogant declaration that we'd already won, a refusal to waste breath on morale-boosting rhetoric.
"The Regiment Commander has declared victory!"
"It's as good as won!"
"This time, let's turn our shitty luck around! We can do this!"
Soon after, the low, majestic trumpet signaling the Northern Army's advance echoed across the field.
"24th Regiment, advance! Shields up high on the flanks and front! Ignore the buzzing flies."
As we began our march, we caught sight of the troops led by Ludwig.
Unlike the Tunner rabble we'd faced before, the infantry at the front looked formidable.
They weren't clad in proper steel armor like us, but they wore sturdy, tanned leather gear.
They hadn't received proper formalized training—their footwork was sloppy—but their confident bearing suggested they'd handle sword or spear competently in a fight.
No madman without the skills to back it up would carry himself like that.
The silver lining: they couldn't have turned their entire infantry into elites in just a year, so those were probably only a portion.
Behind those front-liners, there'd be a mass of the weaklings we'd crushed before.
"Deputy Regiment Commander, take your direct command battalion to the vanguard and hold the line. I'll command from a bit farther back."
"Understood."
"If you hold firm, the rest of the force can fan out wide to the left and wrap this up successfully. Stand out this time—earn yourself a regiment command."
He chuckled heartily, tossing in a joke.
"I've been stuck in this frozen north too long. Next time, maybe deputy division commander somewhere warm near the capital?"
"They wouldn't waste an officer of your caliber there."
We traded a few more quips before I returned to the regiment's center.
At the same time, horse archers approached from the flank to deploy the same tired tactic they'd used before.
The 24th Regiment, well-accustomed to enemy horse archery by now, responded with the best counter available even without my orders.
"Remember massacring the Tunner bastards! Crossbowmen, check your bolts!"
"Shields up straight! Drop yours, and your whole squad dies with you!"
"I'll cut down anyone who breaks ranks!"
We trudged forward in silence, heads bowed to shield our exposed faces from the visors.
Like swarms of flies buzzing around, the barbarians wheeled their mounts and loosed arrows.
Thousands of shafts must have arced toward us, but anyone who looked up to dodge or block would die first.
Each unit stuck to its tasks, praying no one in this godforsaken hail took a fatal hit.
Shieldbearers held firm and marched steadily; crossbowmen and mages fired bolts and spells on command.
Infantrymen, relying on their armor, stared at the ground and pressed toward the enemy ahead, acting unfazed.
No one spoke, but everyone except the crossbowmen and mages must have found this one-sided barrage—the longest, hardest stretch without retaliation—utter agony.
"Fuck, this ain't right! Save me!"
"You bastards, calm down! Calm the hell down! Even if you take an arrow, it won't kill you unless it's perfect!"
"Argh! Aaaagh!"
Someone from a nearby unit, trailing us, snapped under the pressure and charged out into the arrow storm.
I didn't know which regiment, but they were surely green—no northern experience.
And that fool could get dozens, hundreds killed.
Mid such stray thoughts, as we kept marching, the barbarians seemed to realize pestering an Imperial force shrugging off their volley was just wasting ammo.
"Cease fire! Cease fire! No point hanging here! Go harass their knights!"
"Fall back! Falling back!"
"We'll all die tangling with those fuckers!"
They halted their barrage on our infantry, wheeled about, and went after the knights instead.
My crossbowmen and the archers and mages from other units unleashed on the fleeing horsemen.
Dozens fell dead as a result.
"The damn fly bastards are pulling back! We're alive!"
"Hold a bit longer, and the enemy main line's right there!"
"24th Regiment! 24th! Huzzah!!"
My troops and the other officers were thrilled, but analyzing the overall battle, things weren't great.
For my plan to work, our knights needed to charge the enemy infantry's rear and deliver a massive shock.
That ripple had to halt their advance for us to win.
But if horse archers diverted to hit our knights instead, thinning their numbers...
It would reduce the damage knights could inflict on the barbarian center, and fail to pin their infantry.
"Goddamn it. This isn't looking good."
I muttered under my breath and glanced around, but everyone stared dead ahead, braced for arrows.
No one answered. Probably didn't even hear.
Then arrows rained from the enemy center opposite us—countless—and our regiment filled with the groans of dying men.
"Argh."
"Ugh, fuck! My arm."
"Arrow in my thigh!"
Even as arrows struck, the troops pushed forward. I had no choice but to advance too.
I racked my brain on the march, scheming a breakthrough.
Finally, I hit on a solid idea.
I summoned a messenger for my direct superior, the Division Commander, and gave orders.
"Ask if I can leave the minimum two infantry battalions needed to hold the line here, then take the rest for a feint when I deem it necessary. Get an answer."
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"No. Every second counts—hurry."
If our knights couldn't hit the barbarian infantry rear due to unexpected horse archer attacks, delaying or preventing the pin...
Then I could do the same thing myself, right?
To halt them, all it took was a big enough shock.