Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: From Primitive Era Chieftain to Space Era Emperor
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With the emergence of cavalry archers, our tactics had no choice but to change.
The day before departure, I gathered all the warriors and explained the strategy we'd devised after consulting with the staff officers.
"From now on, we'll call the warriors who ride horses and shoot arrows cavalry archers. The cavalry archers will shoot arrows from afar to lure the enemy and thin their numbers. Once we've drawn them into the forest, we'll ambush them for maximum damage, then block their escape routes to kill or force their surrender."
I pointed to the map(?) scratched onto a stone slab with my finger.
The main battlefield would be the edge of the forest.
A gentle curve on all sides.
We were all familiar with the nearby forest paths—even those who weren't rangers.
These days, mounted scouts ventured far for hunting, capturing, and reconnaissance, but we still patrolled the close areas on foot.
When your survival depended on hunting, mastering the local terrain was essential.
I marked ambush spots with arrow symbols and escape routes with shield icons.
Primitive people weren't stupid; this was explanation enough for them to understand.
"Any questions?"
Red Rock raised his hand.
"Why not just advance with shields? Or hold them off from the walls?"
Several heads nodded.
It was a familiar tactic, and there didn't seem to be much risk of injury.
Holding off enemies from the walls?
By this era's standards, it was invincible.
Red Rock had asked an excellent question.
"Because the path we ultimately need to take is one that leverages cavalry archers. In this war, even if it's rough around the edges, I want to test the operation as a demonstration. Of course, no one gets hurt stupidly. Got it!?"
"Uwaa!"
No one argued or nitpicked.
Who would rebel against a new strategy we'd devised and planned to try?
These days, deification was in full swing—my word was practically law.
As long as we didn't fail, the deification would only deepen.
"Then rest up well today."
The next morning.
The air was growing noticeably chillier.
The first frost had fallen, so we needed to end the war as quickly as possible.
All the tribe members had gathered in the city square.
I ascended the platform, and the soldiers formed ranks as trained.
100 shield bearers, 40 support troops, and 10 cavalry.
It made my chest swell with pride.
Plus, everyone carried bows and short spears as secondary weapons, so unless some freak event occurred, defeat was impossible.
The whole tribe buzzed with anticipation—we could expand to the outer walls, adding 2,000 more people.
"We will become the rulers of this land."
"Ooh!"
"As you all know, we have no equals. Four hundred warriors? They'll be thoroughly crushed by the weapons I've made!"
"Great Whirlwind!"
"Spirit Whirlwind!"
Before departing, the warriors received send-offs from the women.
Wives and lovers handed out talisman-like gifts one by one.
Some were figurines, others necklaces.
White Flame gave me a bracelet made from horsehair, and Wise Flower slipped a ring carved from ivory onto my finger.
"You have to come back safe."
White Flame pressed her forehead to mine.
A gesture of intimacy between lovers or spouses.
It was the first thing we'd done when we married, and now it had spread like a trend.
Next was Wise Flower.
She too pressed her forehead to mine.
"I don't think Whirlwind will get hurt."
"Of course not. I don't die."
"Don't worry about the tribe. We'll manage it well."
With those two stepping up, I felt utterly secure.
White Flame excelled in leadership, and Wise Flower possessed intelligence surpassing anyone in Whirlwind Tribe—they made a perfect combo.
They occasionally snarled at each other out of jealousy, but with so few men, they both acknowledged the need for polygamy.
Perhaps because they recognized the practical reality, their fights had decreased lately.
They even seemed to have grown closer while going around together.
"We march!"
The chieftain of the Great River Tribe, Rock Beard, had learned from a recent scout that a major force existed in the middle reaches of the river.
Nearly a thousand people, with around 150 warriors—ripe for plundering, he thought.
They mentioned some kind of dam, but he didn't dwell on it.
The Great River Tribe had always sustained itself through raids.
Stockpiling food before winter was a given.
The warriors were thrilled at the news.
Perfect prey, right?
Even primitive people had brains—they didn't foolishly attack larger tribes.
No matter how superior your physique, numbers were king. That was why the bloated Great River Tribe persisted despite survival disadvantages.
When food ran short, they stole it.
They didn't neglect hunting or gathering, but raiding was the fastest way to prepare for winter.
He immediately summoned all the warriors.
Emphasizing the enemy's estimated 150 warriors and their own new weapon (shields), he brimmed with confidence.
It was the fourth day of the march.
In a bend of the winding river.
Unfamiliar shapes appeared over the shallow sandbar.
A herd of horses.
Horses were so fast and elusive that hunting them was nearly impossible without sheer luck.
Yet here were ten of them, with people riding atop.
Murmurs rippled through the tribe.
People riding horses?
Unheard of.
Fortunately—or perhaps not—the riders' postures looked awkward.
Slower than a horse alone, and riding seemed burdensome, though their movements weren't wildly unstable.
Some ring-like contraption from waist to foot seemed to stabilize them.
"Is that them!?"
"Yeah! Enemies!"
The strangers fired small spear-like projectiles using some device.
Several men fell, struck by the tiny spears.
And then the cowards fled!
"Infuriating! Chase them!"
"Uwaa!"
The Great River Tribe's warriors burned with rage.
Unable to fight fair, resorting to sneaky spear throws and running away!
Unacceptable by this era's romantic standards.
The Great River Tribe charged after them en masse.
From a hill overlooking the operational zone.
I clicked my tongue at the sight of the enemy charging furiously from afar.
They weren't pacing their stamina at all.
Eagle's Eye's cavalry archers shot arrows and fled, enraging them to the boiling point.
That was the standard for this era.
A crude provocation, but tactics like deception didn't exist yet.
Just swarm and smash with stone axes.
They threw javelins or stones too, but poor accuracy made them prefer close combat.
In an era like that, shooting arrows to pick them off a few at a time while fleeing?
Of course they'd rage and give chase.
In the game, enemy numbers were so vast that fleeing was all you could do, but with our gear and unit types, running wasn't an option anyway.
Not to mention the deep deification.
Black Stone tsked at their display.
"Wasting stamina on a simple provocation. They're not fit for war."
"......"
"He's right!"
The staff officers unanimously deemed their level pathetic.
Just a year ago, we'd been the same?
We returned to the pre-designated operational zone.
Once the enemy entered the forest, arrows from both flanks, shield walls front and rear for encirclement.
Even the invincible Roman legions had no answer to encirclement—what chance did these foes have?
"They're coming."
The enemy was charging.
Already panting and exhausted—questionable if they could fight properly.
Stragglers aplenty, their numbers down by at least a hundred from the hilltop view.
"Fire!"
We had hand signals prepared, but no need.
Arrows rained down, screams echoing.
"Kwaaaak!"
"Aaaak!"
The enemy panicked hard.
Exhausted from the long chase, arrows suddenly from both sides—they couldn't even react.
Blood sprayed everywhere, many dropping dead instantly.
Their chieftain looked in full panic.
"R-Run away!"
As their numbers halved, shield bearers with round shields closed in from above and below.
I charged out wielding my tiger thighbone club.
Target: enemy chieftain.
With morale crumbling and men collapsing everywhere, killing the leader would end resistance.
"Uwo! Whirlwind!"
Cheers erupted from our lines.
Among warriors drilled in rigid formations, only I could make such a move.
As an undying immortal, no restrictions.
The enemy chieftain instinctively raised his shield, but I smashed it—and him—with it still up.
Kwang!
The shield shattered to pieces, and the tiger bone pulverized his skull.
Plunk!
A watermelon burst, brains splattering everywhere.
Nearby enemies gaped at my sudden action.
"T-Tiger!"
No word for "monster" yet—"tiger" was the pinnacle of terror.
Enemies dropped to their knees, foreheads to the ground; our warriors bound them with ropes.
As expected, the battle ended anticlimactically.
"Great Whirlwind slew the enemy chieftain in one blow!"
"Whirlwind, who kills even saber-tooths—no one can defeat him!"
"Uwaa!"
The warriors' excitement peaked.
All enemy warriors dead or captured—the tribe would triple in size.
Problems: feeding them through winter, and transporting so many.
Food we'd have to calculate; for moving the whole tribe, I already had a plan in mind.