Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Into Rommel's Trap (2)
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The cavalry company, belatedly realizing something was amiss, headed toward the right flank of the enemy trenches.
They were well-stocked with ammunition plundered from enemy supplies, but the stamina of the soldiers and horses was the problem.
The relentless assaults had pushed both men and mounts to their absolute limits, yet the company commander had no intention of letting them rest.
However, reality didn't bend to his will. Unlike earlier when they had galloped at full tilt, the horses now maintained a slower trot.
"Too slow, far too slow."
"At this rate, we'll reach the right flank around dusk. We've already seized the advantage—why not return to headquarters or set up camp in a safe spot?"
The deputy company commander asked anxiously, glancing at the sinking sun.
But Captain Goette shook his head.
"No. That would drag out the exercise. We can win by hitting the right flank now. We can't miss that chance."
They needed to eliminate the weak right flank forces and then envelop the left with infantry support—or strike the rear alone.
A favorable move to secure victory swiftly... but.
"Fatigue is extreme. Why not support the main force and hit the left flank's rear directly?"
"We could end up encircled between the right flank remnants and the left. We must hit the right flank."
"Damn..."
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
'Since when did our options narrow like this... No, focus on the battle about to unfold.'
The company commander shook off the nagging thoughts.
Clop-clop—the cavalry company pressed on amid silence broken only by hoofbeats.
Soon, the scouts sent ahead were visible returning from afar.
"Hard to identify due to the backlighting. But the atmosphere was quiet overall."
"Hmm."
The scout continued.
"We got pretty close, but there was zero reaction."
"Really?"
The deputy urged caution.
"Scouts usually draw sniper fire, but none came. There might be no defenders at all."
"There were stragglers when we last spotted them."
"Maybe the left flank situation turned dire, and they all went for support. It's been a while since we last saw them."
With that, the deputy pressed on.
"Either way, we're here now—no other choice. If enemies were there, the scouts would've been spotted for sure. We need to attack immediately."
"..."
Grit—the company commander ground his teeth and turned back.
"Cavalry Company! The decisive moment of this exercise approaches! And we are its stars!"
Though exhausted, the cavalry fixed fervent eyes on their commander.
"We assault the enemy's right flank rear! Expect minimal—or no—forces!"
Anxiety dripped down Captain Goette's back like sweat.
The cavalry, oblivious, listened intently.
"Bravest sons of the Empire! Victory nears! Fight to the end!"
"Huzzah!!"
"Form ranks! We strike in one go!"
The weary horses reformed into line abreast.
'Sometimes... it's better not to tell them everything.'
Watching his elite cavalry form up, the company commander furrowed his brow in thought.
Hitting the right wouldn't end the exercise. They still needed to strike the left's rear for victory.
But he couldn't burden his fatigued men with that.
'They can endure it once more. It'll work... merit, victory—it's all within our grasp.'
This was the moment he should have realized.
Even hitting the right flank was already too much.
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"...Scouts are away."
"Good. Finish mounting the machine guns."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
"Enemy cavalry numbers two hundred at most. One machine gun spits hundreds of rounds—annihilation will be easy, right?"
"Hahaha! Trust us! Once they're in the crossfire, victory's ours!"
"That's what they say. Judges, please watch closely."
"We'll keep our eyes peeled and judge on the spot—no worries."
"Good... perfect."
I glanced back suddenly.
Beyond the horizon, the sun dyed the entire sky red.
"Beautiful."
"Heh, twilight. So romantic."
"Poetic, even."
"In what sense?"
I smirked at the soldier's question.
"Because... with that sun, the age of romance is setting."
From countless war doctrines to the Belle Époque—the most beautiful and hideous era... one age fades for a new civilization to rise.
A long night approaches.
One rife with chances and chaos, reeking of gunpowder and blood.
...But first. Before that night falls.
"Too slow. Move faster."
"Urgh! Got it!"
This matter first.
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Clop-clop—trot.
Clop-clop-clop—slow trot.
Clop! Clop! Clop! Rumble-rumble—canter.
Rumble-rumble-rumble—!! And gallop.
"Full speed!"
The trenches came into view afar.
Along with the defense force banner.
'Just a bit more! Just a little further!'
"Too fast! Slow down!"
The referee riding alongside screamed at the company commander, but he pretended not to hear.
A few might get hurt—enemy or ally—but that fact had long slipped Captain Goette's mind.
Anxiety and lust for glory had already consumed that space.
Twilight backlighting blinded the cavalry with red glare.
Like Don Quixote charging windmills, they hurtled toward the sun.
🎯 AIM 🎯
[Aim.]
Did Don Quixote fell the windmills, then?
"Charge!! Charge!! Hurry, charge...!"
Flash—for an instant, a blinding glare stabbed the eyes of the company commander leading the charge.
Squinting, he scanned the trenches ahead for the light's source.
Only then did he see it.
"...?"
Myriad machine guns... concealed by mere leaves.
Glimpsing through foliage, the guns glinted.
A few prepared gunners and defenders were visible.
The company commander knew instinctively.
They were caught in the web.
"W-wait! Halt!! HALT!!!"
"Too late!"
The deputy, realizing too, bellowed at the belated commander’s cry.
Once the charge began, the din made precise command impossible.
"No! No!!"
Captain Goette's face crumpled as he screamed.
But it was too late. The foretold catastrophe unfolded.
🔥 FIRE! 🔥
[Fire.]
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!!!! Blazing lights erupted from the trenches amid thunderous roar.
Machine guns spewed fire, showering the cavalry with dummy rounds.
"What?!"
"What's happening?!"
"Sudden slowdown... Argh!!!"
They charged at speeds banned in exercises.
Not live combat, overconfident from merits earned, expecting no enemy.
Pre-modern dense formation meant one mishap snowballed exponentially.
All combined...
"Aaaagh!!!!"
"C-crazy!!"
A slowed horse collided with one behind.
"Kaaagh!! My leg!! My leeeeg!!!"
"Help!! Urgh!! Don't stamp...!!"
Crunch!! The pair tumbled, triggering more swerves and crashes.
Crash-clang-bang!!! The chaos grew. Over half the cavalry company fell—dismounted or horses toppled.
"Ugh!!"
"Kaaagh!!"
An appalling accident—and utter disgrace for elite German cavalry.
"This... how can this...!"
The scale forced the company to halt.
Rat-a-tat-tat! Amidst, trench lights and noise persisted. Blank fire continued.
A fierce intent to annihilate the cavalry utterly.
The commander's eyes shook wildly.
"Captain!"
"Retreat, retreat! Fall back now! It's regrettable, but we must abandon recovery..."
"What are you saying?!"
A judge roared furiously at the commander's babble.
"Are you mad?! Not war, an exercise—handle the accident first!"
"N-no... I mean... that is..."
"You're the commander! What the hell are you doing?!"
The evaluation team, hitherto patient, yelled at the mentally shattered Captain Goette.
As he failed to recover, a judge approached them.
"By referee authority, I'll handle recovery. The accident's big—need to borrow trainees and other battalions."
"Do it. Messenger!"
Commander and deputy stared vacantly at the scene.
Noticing the anomaly, trench fire ceased.
As recovery bustle began, white-flag-bearing soldiers approached from the trenches.
The notably young officer at front frowned at fallen horses and men.
Plainly the right flank commander who trapped the cavalry.
The company commander glared murderously.
'...No stars on his insignia. A lieutenant?'
He shook his head with hollow laughter.
The sharp-eyed, handsome lieutenant approached and saluted.
"Lieutenant Erwin Rommel."
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