Chapter 114
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Soelden Plains Battle (4)
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As I led my men from the front, charging ahead, the guys following behind let out cheers and pursued me with all their might.
"Follow Martin Hundred-Man Commander!"
"Let's kill every last one of those bastards today!"
"Show 'em what real men are made of!"
I've stabbed the enemy's flanks like this countless times before, and each time, the soldiers following me cheered me on just like this.
'Getting sick of it? No way, it thrills me every single time.'
Just like those words, the thrill of risking my life to strike the enemy's weak point, the sense of responsibility from being relied upon by so many subordinates.
The anticipation of what achievements I'll rack up in this charge, and how much our unit will shine—it all made my heart pound wildly.
'That's why I can't quit standing at the vanguard. Am I addicted to leading the charge?'
On the other hand, the enemies suddenly pelted with arrows and spells were thrown into total disarray, flailing about in panic.
The rookies, who looked like fresh recruits, froze in confusion as their comrades vanished in an instant, unsure where to go.
"Squad Leader, where do we go?"
The Ten-Man Squad Leaders couldn't bring themselves to beat the rookies and instead grabbed them by the scruff and yanked them along.
"You idiot! Didn't they teach you to run to the Squad Leader in times like this?"
"But I don't see the Squad Leader!"
"Then head for the Hundred-Man Commander's banner!"
Just as when someone knows a stab is coming, their muscles and tissues tense up to minimize damage, but an unexpected strike causes far worse injury—the enemies were in the same boat.
When they know magic or arrows might kill someone, commanders at every level try to respond somehow...
But when caught completely off guard and hammered like this, even they blank out for a moment.
Even in that chaos, proving their heads weren't filled with noodles, some started trying to restore order to their disrupted formation.
"Anyone wandering around confused will be executed on the spot, same as deserters! Everyone, freeze!"
No matter the confusion, they all understood "freeze," and the frantic movements halted instantly.
'Oh no, if they reorganize their formation like this, we're in trouble.'
I didn't know how many troops or how much combat power the enemy mercenaries had.
But fighting a properly formed unit versus a disorganized one makes a world of difference in battle strength, so I had to stop them from regaining their composure somehow.
Aware of this, after freezing briefly, they bolted straight for the Hundred-Man Commander's banner.
"The banner, the banner! Run to that damn Hundred-Man Commander's banner!"
"If we get there, we'll live!"
"Those guys aren't even holding spears properly or forming a phalanx! Block 'em like this!"
If they weren't so panicked, we'd be at a slight disadvantage—how the hell do I fix this?
'Then what if the bastard who's pulling them together so well suddenly drops dead?'
Their budding cohesion would shatter in an instant.
"Senior Karin! That guy over there swinging the sword around—do something about him!"
Karin replied with confident assurance right away.
"Got it, Martin Hundred-Man Commander."
The moment I heard her, I gripped my sword with both hands and charged toward the enemies like a mad bull.
Circulating aura through my entire body, with the mindset of a bullet rocketing straight toward my target.
'Karin never misses.'
From the moment our paths crossed, she's been someone in this world I could trust absolutely—she'd never let me down.
Meanwhile, the guy who was reforming their formation on the side we attacked spotted me charging and burst into laughter.
"That idiot's lost his mind and wants to die!"
"Hundred-Man Commander, that mad dog..."
"We've taken losses, but we're still dozens strong! I'll hold him off—surround and beat him down!"
This bastard was basing his plan on the assumption he could block my attack alone for a bit...
'You think that'll work so easily?'
I might struggle solo, but with Karin behind me? No chance.
The Hundred-Man Commander seemed eager to show off his prowess and rally his broken unit's morale...
With boastful words and exaggerated poses, he swung his sword to draw everyone's attention.
"I, Calvin Kurt, Hundred-Man Commander of the Black Brothers Mercenary Corps, will take your head! Die once for me today!"
With that, he raised his sword and came at me.
A faint blue aura clung to his blade—he clearly wasn't a pushover.
'Not a talentless hack after all.'
I channeled aura into my feet, accelerating forward.
As the distance closed and we both reared back to swing...
An arrow whistled past my ear, slicing through the wind.
The noise was enough to stun my ears briefly, but it wasn't enough to shatter my focus or killing intent.
'...No way something this minor throws off my concentration.'
I smirked and thrust my sword at his throat.
But Calvin got distracted by Karin's arrow flying straight at his forehead.
He tilted his head left to dodge the potentially lethal shot, throwing off his sword's aim.
"Ugh, shit."
His face aged ten years in shock, mouth agape—and I didn't miss the opening Karin had created.
My sword finally pierced his throat. Calvin couldn't even scream as he sprayed blood and vomit over my expensive armor.
"...You think I don't have someone I can trust?"
As I muttered under my breath, the enemies who'd planned to encircle me in a crescent rushed in all at once, following Calvin's orders.
"Hundred-Man Commander Calvin is dead!"
"Cut that mad bastard's head off and avenge him!"
"Don't stop me—I'm severing that fucker's neck today!"
Not the dumbest move ever, but I wasn't weak enough to fall to a mob of these ragtag fools.
'I'd love to hoist Calvin's severed head high and crush their morale proper.'
No time for that—I scanned around to kill the ones charging me.
"If not, oh well."
They thrust their long spears at me in unison—the most efficient weapon for commoners against an aura-wielding knight.
But spears are long and cumbersome; avoid the tip, and they're just wooden sticks.
Exploiting that, I dropped low and dodged their first volley unscathed.
"Rat bastard!"
Even if it's rat-like and ugly, surviving and taking enemy heads is what matters.
Better to live a little cowardly and dirty than die honorably.
That way, you survive to claim victory—or rise again even in defeat.
"Thanks for the compliment, you bastards."
Then I charged straight ahead.
I'd dodged the first row's spear tips, but the second and third rows probed threateningly.
I parried every one with aura-infused swings, slicing the spears apart.
The clatter of wooden shafts with metal tips hitting the ground, soldiers stammering in horror, scrambling in panic.
This would utterly shatter the morale of the guys in front of me.
"Have a nice trip to the afterlife, all of you."
I swung my aura-charged sword in swift arcs.
No one left standing intact where the blade passed.
Those missing limbs or legs, not dead yet but doomed to agonizing deaths over time.
The lucky ones with fatal hits to throat or vitals, gone instantly.
Just these two groups remained.
To drive the nail in, I bellowed at the top of my lungs.
"I, Martin Meyer of the White Beard Mercenary Corps, personally took the head of Calvin, Hundred-Man Commander of the Black Brothers Mercenary Corps!"
The enemies who'd been trying to kill me froze for a moment.
They'd already known their Hundred-Man Commander was dead.
But my words sent the morale of my White Beard Mercenary Corps behind me skyrocketing.
"Long live Martin Hundred-Man Commander!"
"Fuck yeah, our commander's no ordinary man!"
"He comes back alive even surrounded by dozens!"
I neither confirmed nor denied it.
Adding anything here would just sound idiotic.
Instead, I shrugged, pointed at the enemies ahead, and said,
"Those bastards are our prey today! And tell Captain Dalton—we're here now, so the Black Brothers are all dead men."