Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: 54. Gloriously Like Flames (3)
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As Malcoy de Marseille had predicted, the Imperial Army suffered terribly.
One could only wonder how long the kingdom had spent preparing for war—there wasn't a single spot without traps within two hundred paces of the fortress.
Heavy infantry, weighed down by their armor, tumbled into pits and were crushed to death, while the nimble light infantry rolled on the ground after stepping on caltrops at every turn.
Whenever they barely pushed through the traps, flaming arrows rained down as if lying in wait.
Oil jars buried in advance ignited in an instant, engulfing the entire area in flames.
Even so, the legion commanders did not loosen their grip on the assault.
They filled the traps with their own bodies and hurled themselves relentlessly at the fortress.
But the fortress showed no sign of crumbling.
When the sun set and the soldiers withdrew, the roles reversed.
The knights of Leonberger Kingdom, who had staunchly defended the walls, slipped out under cover of darkness to raid the Imperial camps at every opportunity. The Imperials spent their nights on constant alert, wary of kingdom forces that could strike from anywhere.
"Well, isn't this something. I can't even tell who's attacking and who's defending anymore."
Malcoy sighed at his own army's incompetence and marveled at the enemy's tenacity.
"They say the Empire's knights far surpass those of other nations in skill, but seeing it firsthand, it's not living up to the hype at all."
Malcoy nodded at his adjutant's words.
Just as he said, the Empire's knights were no match for the kingdom's, despite their numerical superiority.
Of course, Leonberger Kingdom's Paladin was leading his knights with seasoned expertise, but even accounting for that, the skill gap was staggeringly wide.
The Empire's knights were getting cut down every time they clashed with their kingdom counterparts.
Whether it stemmed from the mindset of those fighting desperately to protect their homes versus those blinded by thoughts of glory, or from the difference between elite knights sworn to a king and frontier show-offs, Malcoy couldn't say.
The only certainty was that until the Empire's knights could properly contend with the kingdom's, capturing the fortress was a distant dream.
"If only we had some mages, things might improve."
Unfortunately, the war with Dotrin had inflicted heavy losses on their mages, and to top it off, wyvern knights prowling the east and north had prioritized hunting them down. Viable mages were all but extinct.
It would take time for legions with proper magical support to reach the fortress.
But judging by the dimwitted legion commanders, they wouldn't hold their forces together that long.
"The 44th Legion Commander took an arrow!"
Malcoy scowled.
Another foolhardy commander must have strayed from the rear to strut at the front, no doubt to boost morale. It only ended up crushing his own troops' spirits.
"That old man's got some nerve."
Too exhausted to curse his idiot allies further, Malcoy praised the enemy instead.
"Nothing matches the rumors. They said Leonberger's king was incompetent and spineless."
Malcoy glanced up at the battlements at his adjutant's remark.
The enemy king was always atop the walls, relentlessly firing arrows. Occasionally, he sniped Imperial knights or high officers amid the melee.
The legion commander just hit by an arrow was surely his handiwork.
Dong, dong, dong.
"Huh. Retreat signal."
The retreat drums beat earlier than usual. Imperial soldiers clinging to the walls like ants pulled back in unison.
The kingdom forces never let retreating foes off easily.
Plunk, plunk.
Arrows thudded into the backs of the withdrawing soldiers. Even at a glance, today's casualties matched the toll from a full day of assaults.
The plains were littered with corpses—all Imperials.
"No end in sight. None at all."
The battle ended amid Malcoy's lament.
At that day's council, the other legion commanders fiercely berated Malcoy and the 84th Legion.
Their grievance was that while every other legion threw themselves at the walls without mercy, his stayed passive in the fight.
They'd once treated him like he had no troops to spare for sharing glory, but now that things weren't going their way, they'd changed their tune.
Malcoy placated them by promising to give his all starting tomorrow.
But the next day, and the day after, he and the 84th Legion lingered at the rear, firing arrows half-heartedly and milling about before withdrawing.
The legion commanders railed even harder, but Malcoy brushed it off each time by claiming he was doing his utmost.
The stalled siege dragged on.
Then one deep night, the Imperial camp came under attack—a massive legion-scale raid unlike any before.
Despite their precautions, the Imperials hadn't expected the kingdom to boldly send so many troops beyond the gates. They suffered devastating losses.
Their force had neared 13,000 upon arriving at the fortress. Now, excluding wounded and dead, fewer than 7,000 could fight.
Excluding the 84th Legion, which had lost only about a hundred wounded, every legion had shed more than half its men.
In mere weeks, their numbers had been halved.
Capturing the fortress with half the troops that had already failed—even doubled—was impossible.
The Battle of Silver Lion Fortress was, in effect, an Imperial defeat.
The legion commanders refused to admit it—or rather, couldn't.
They still deluded themselves with visions of capturing the king and marching triumphantly into the enemy capital, clinging to that impossible dream.
They drove even the wounded into battle against the fortress.
"Anyone who retreats dies by my sword!"
"Those who earn merit will receive vast rewards!"
Legion commanders and knights prodded hesitating soldiers with blades, herding them into the meat grinder with empty promises.
Enraged Imperials scaled the walls.
The fortress's kingdom troops slaughtered them one by one as they climbed.
"It's over."
Watching the unyielding fortress withstand their blind assault, Malcoy quietly withdrew the 84th Legion.
The legion commanders stormed his position, hurling abuse.
Coward. Craven. Useless dog who couldn't even protect his master.
Malcoy scratched his ear at the ravings of the deranged.
"If you've got the energy for that, grab a sword and climb the walls to help the men."
Infuriated by his indifferent retort, the commanders jabbed fingers in rage—then belatedly scanned their surroundings.
The well-preserved 84th Legion troops glared back at them. Only then did they realize this legion dominated the battlefield.
"Don't."
As they stood dazed, Malcoy suddenly barked.
"If we let them live, they'll testify against you for sure."
"Still, don't."
"You've already forgotten why you ended up in this backwater, haven't you?"
"Enough. Sheathe your sword."
The commanders paled at overhearing Malcoy and his adjutant.
They'd just realized the 84th's officers meant to silence them permanently.
"Do whatever. I'll follow orders—even if it means exile again. I don't care."
The adjutant sheathed his inexplicably drawn sword with a wave. The 84th troops encircling the commanders finally stepped back.
The commanders fled in panic.
"Don't those greedy pigs feel any shame, tossing thousands into the fire while they survive?"
The adjutant spat coldly, glaring after them to the end.
"You're too rigid, sir. That's why I follow you, but today it pisses me off a bit. The pigs who deserve roasting live, while innocent soldiers burn."
"On a battlefield, no one's innocent."
"Even if they just followed orders?"
"Win fights, plunder, rape women. Soldiers are part of the war too. They justify taking the good and blaming weakness for the bad. It's revolting."
The adjutant blinked, then replied as if remembering.
"Right, I forgot how much you hate war. You still carry memories of that day..."
"Stop. Push it further, and even you won't be spared."
"Yes, sir. As you command."
The adjutant bowed exaggeratedly and stepped back.
Malcoy watched with clear eyes as Imperials and kingdom soldiers clinging to the fortress slaughtered each other.
"Damn it all."
He spat in disgust.
Night deepened. The commanders still refused to withdraw.
From the darkness poured ceaseless clashes of spears and swords, screams, and shouts.
Dawn broke.
Imperials atop the walls fell one by one, surrounded by kingdom knights.
It was the moment the commanders' vain dreams shattered.
Then, from the rear, a cavalry force charged.
Clad in typical Imperial cavalry garb, the legion commanders brightened.
"Finally, another legion's arrived nearby!"
The greedy ones dreaming of monopolizing glory by capturing the king before reinforcements were gone.
Only defeated remnants awaiting rescue remained.
The cavalry closed rapidly.
But their state was off.
As if fresh from battle, their armor was scratched everywhere, their eyes frantic.
As the commanders watched grimly, the cavalry reined in.
And shouted.
"34th Legion! 48th Legion! 102nd Legion! We were routed by a joint assault from Dotrin's Wyvern Knights and Leonberger Kingdom forces during the march!"
"What?!"
The shocked commanders stared as the exhausted rider reported the rear situation.
"Enemy force estimated at two legions, with at least ten knight orders confirmed!"
"Where the hell did they come from?!"
"Details unknown, but among their banners, we spotted the Cowering Golden Lion."
The rider paused, then continued.
"Their commander appears to be a direct Leonberger royal."
As the commanders floundered, Malcoy interjected bluntly.
"The fortress assault's a lost cause."
"Are you ally or enemy?!"
One half-mad commander, forgetting the earlier incident, exploded.
But before venting fully, a horn blared from the fortress—Leonberger's signature signal.
The gates swung open. Kingdom knights and cavalry poured out.
"Still full of fight after battling all night?"
Malcoy whistled in admiration.
"E-everyone, fall back to the 41st Legion's fortress!"
"Regroup there and fight again!"
Malcoy snorted at commanders who couldn't utter "retreat" even on death's door.
"You won't even reach the fortress."
He pointed toward the fortress.
An old knight raising a blazing white sword and gold-armored knights charged at terrifying speed.
Thud.
As they gawked, a heavy clank sounded. The commanders startled and turned.
Malcoy stood there, sheath undone and sword on the ground.
"W-what are you doing?!"
One commander demanded, but Malcoy ordered his adjutant instead.
"Drop swords. Stand by."
"84th Legion! Bared blades!"
The adjutant bellowed. 84th troops and knights dropped their sheathed swords to the ground.
"What the hell are you—"
Before he finished, a sickening crack echoed.
The commander who'd been raging moments ago crumpled, neck snapped.
That was the signal.
84th knights and soldiers snapped the necks of commanders and their aides.
Neigh!
Knights who'd stealthily flanked the cavalry dragged riders down and twisted their necks.
"Since we're surrendering anyway, better bring a gift, right? Did I overstep?"
As Malcoy eyed him, the adjutant shrugged after breaking a rider's neck.
Malcoy shook his head at the casual display.
Kingdom knights and cavalry arrived.
"Surrender! We surrender unconditionally!"
Malcoy threw up both hands.
The king was utterly exhausted. His body was covered in minor wounds, and the fingers gripping his bow had all burst open.
During the night's fierce battle, he'd taken a sword wound and retreated from the walls to recuperate deep in the fortress.
Yet even in that state, his eyes burned brighter than ever.
"They surrendered without a fight?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The king cocked his head at the Royal Knight's report.
"I know the remaining enemy legion preserved its strength intact. Am I mistaken?"
"Your information is accurate, Your Majesty."
"Then why?"
To the king's question, the Royal Knight replied that the dispatched forces were returning—hear the details from them.
"Your Majesty, Schrümhilde Strugart reporting mission complete."
"They all surrendered, you say."
"Had they fought, at least half might've escaped to the fortress alive. But they surrendered as if waiting for us—I haven't a clue why."
The king frowned at the old knight's report.
"Not a ploy to infiltrate under guise of surrender?"
"They offered dozens of corpses alongside their surrender—all Imperial legion commanders and high officers."
"So it's genuine."
"That's how it seems to me."
The king rose.
"I must meet this man."
The old knight restrained him.
"Your Majesty, a wyvern knight brought news from the front."
The king halted and turned.
"Crown Prince's northern-central allied legions are victorious in every engagement, annihilating three enemy legions so far. With wyvern knight aid, they've evaded enemy lines and are heading south to ambush the isolated Imperial 92nd Legion."
The old knight added, eyeing the king.
"Our losses are minimal. Crown Prince unharmed."
The king's lips twitched.
"Wyvern knight still here?"
"I held him in case you had further orders."
"Tell him: better to achieve modest goals than overreach."
As the old knight stared, the king abruptly looked away.
Even turning his head couldn't hide his twitching cheek and ear.
The old knight simply smiled silently.
"Silver Lion Fortress should be fine, right?"
I muttered, gazing north. Arwen, who'd somehow overheard, replied.
"Count Strugart and the Royal Knight Order—kingdom's finest—guard His Majesty. Southern infantry rivaling Ballerhard's rangers and the central army back them up. Even ten legions couldn't breach it easily."
Seeing my face, Arwen sighed and added,
"Half the royal forces defend Silver Lion Fortress. Cease your worries."
"Who said anything? Just thinking aloud."
"You've muttered it over thirty times."
As I mumbled in protest, a sharp cry pierced the air.
A wyvern circled overhead.
The rider gestured frantically, but too far to see clearly.
I squinted skyward. Still blurry.
Someone tapped my shoulder.
Gunef.
[Enemy spotted, half-day distance.]
Her keen eyes read the wyvern rider's signs and relayed them.
[One legion. Matches target.]
Confirming her gestures, I turned back.
"Full army, double time."
Troops from central and northern regions surged forward at my command.
Kyaaah!
The wyvern shrieked once and vanished southward.
Gunef belatedly relayed the rest.
[They'll engage first.]
"What?"
[King joining.]
I scowled fiercely.
"That old man's cutting in line again!"