Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Rhine Palts Empire's Main Force (1)
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The first day assigned to the main force.
Baker, stepping forward as the representative of us rookies, let out a sigh and said to me,
"Platoon Leader Martin, no fuck, isn't this too much?"
"What's too much, you damn bastard?"
"Forget all that. Those guys up front are fighting like hell, so why the fuck are we just sitting back here waiting? I'm going crazy from boredom. Are we really the main force?"
The other platoon members nodded in agreement with Baker's complaints.
From the looks of it, they'd thought being in the main force meant charging straight at the enemy the moment battle started and going wild.
'Ha, you ignorant, pitiful bastards.'
They were so clueless it made me sigh involuntarily, their ignorance practically bouncing off the walls.
Still, I had to cut them some slack—70-80% of the rookies in our unit were the equivalent of kids who hadn't even finished elementary school back in Korea, barely able to read.
What could I do? As platoon leader, it was up to me to teach them one by one.
First, I smacked Baker upside the head.
"You dumb fuck. You think the main force in a war just fights up front all damn day?"
The other platoon members scratched their heads too.
"Isn't that right?"
Given they were ignorant and inexperienced, it wasn't unreasonable for them to think that since we were the backbone of the army's combat power.
In reality, main forces came in various types.
Units with the highest attack power that pierced enemy gaps like a wedge, elite troops holding the front lines, and so on.
"No, you idiots. Our reserve unit's role is to act like a hammer—when a gap opens in the enemy lines, we smash right through their formation."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, fuck. In short, we're like premature bastards—short and thick, pounding in to crush the enemy. So we wait for that gap, then charge in like real men. Quit your damn whining and shut your mouths until the order to fight comes."
Once I'd explained it as nicely as I could, the rookie platoon members nodded, convinced.
"As expected, our platoon leader's scary smart. He explains it so fucking easy to understand."
Baker shrugged his shoulders and chimed in.
"Our platoon leader's pretty badass, right? Thanks to him, even I've made a name for myself after rolling under him for a while."
The dumb rookies nodded in agreement.
"When Senior Baker took down that knight during the ambush, yeah, he's definitely impressive."
If these rookies were privates, Baker was about a corporal...
It was natural for guys like him who'd been under me a bit longer to brag like that, but watching it right in front of me still pissed me off.
'I wanna expose Baker's true colors like that supply sergeant.'
As I thought that and turned my gaze, I spotted Lucia and Karin.
True to her experience as a squad leader of several years, Karin was handling the soldiers assigned to the main force perfectly.
"Don't waste energy right now—rest easy. Better hit the toilet beforehand. You won't get a chance once the fight starts."
Toilet—might seem trivial, but if your gut acts up mid-battle, you're done. Crucial stuff...
Lucia was fidgeting with her lips, tail straight up stiff.
"The platoon leader believes in me... I'll definitely be a big help to Platoon Leader Martin..."
I appreciated her resolve to help me, but if she was this tense, how would she handle real combat?
So I approached Lucia from behind and patted her shoulder.
"Lucia."
"Y-yes?!"
Lucia's ears and tail shot straight up.
"You're doing plenty well already, so just keep at it like you have been. Don't push too hard. No matter what the other guys say, I believe in you."
She didn't reply with words.
Instead, her face flushed red, lips twitching into a smile as her tail wagged gently—that was her answer.
As I finished encouraging and reassuring Lucia and the rest of the platoon,
hoofbeats and trumpet blasts echoed from afar.
We hadn't gotten any specific orders yet, but it was obvious what the knight riding toward us would say.
"The time has come for your main force to shine. Charge! Go smash the enemy's right flank!"
Hearing that, I swallowed hard.
My heart raced, and excitement made my aura surge through my body in sync with my heartbeat, unbidden.
This was too thrilling, too anticipated.
Being in the main force meant a chance to cut down countless knights and mages, rack up achievements, and prove my worth.
And seeing Karin and Lucia's admiring gazes... slowly turning that into rational affection, making them mine...
'Ah, fuck, am I too excited? My dick's twitching.'
After reincarnating here—no, even before—I hadn't used it, and now it was asserting itself. I let out a hollow laugh.
"Fuck, getting hard right before battle? That's straight-up war-crazed pervert territory."
As I sorted my thoughts,
Captain Dalton bellowed in his booming voice.
"Time to march, you bastards! Show those Rhine Palts Empire fuckers that the White Beard Mercenary Corps is a little more than just good—we're fucking legendary!"
We all roared back in unison.
"We'll rip a fat chunk off those Rhine Palts Empire bastards and use these war stories to fuck every village girl in sight! Don't hold us back, fuck!"
"We'll show 'em we're the badass motherfuckers we always were."
"We'll prove we're the best at slicing Montmartre snail necks, Captain! Fuck yeah, let's go!"
And so, as the main force, we marched toward the battlefield, strutting our badass balls.
Cheers, death cries, and screams from allies and enemies clashed endlessly beside us.
"Rhine Palts pig bastards! No matter how you thrash, you're just fleas! Die like the fleas you are!"
"Long live the Black Sheep Mercenary Band! Charge forward! Smash those snail fuckers' heads!"
"Ugh, fuck..."
We were still passing through our lines, so no direct attacks or real danger yet...
But even just watching from the side had cold sweat beading on my palms.
'Fuck, seeing it up close gets the nerves going.'
Glancing around, my platoon members seemed the same.
But after so many brutal fights, they might bite their lips a few times, but no real fear showed on their faces.
'The troops' condition isn't bad at all.'
Once we broke out of our formation,
"Magic and arrows incoming! Heads down, eyes on the fucking ground! Don't look up for shit!"
Right after the shout, arrows and spells rained down like mad.
I kept my head low, so I couldn't see much, but explosions and death cries started around us.
"Argh, fuck! My body! My body!! Water! Water!"
"Dying from some shitty arrow like this..."
"Fuck, got hit in the arm—hurts like a bitch. I'll pull their guts out and make sausages outta them."
Sounds of killing enemies became familiar after a few times, but allies' death rattles and screams still grated on me, uncomfortable as hell.
No matter how much my job was killing and dying...
'The dumbass I was drinking and swapping sex stories with yesterday—when he dies, it feels empty, lonely.'
But our job was to advance, and as platoon leader, mine was to get as many back alive as possible.
"Spears! Spears up, form a phalanx! Heads down, keep spacing—no, stick together! We're breaking through the enemy lines anyway—huddle like you're fucking whores, you goddamn bastards!"
My platoon pressed shoulders together.
Normally, we fought with spacing to avoid hindering movement, but for piercing enemy lines, bunching like a 'solid rock' was better—that's why I ordered this formation.
"Hold out a bit longer, and we can stab those shitty snail bastards in the side!"
They all raised left hands high in response.
"Yes, Platoon Leader! I'll take at least ten Montmartre necks myself, fuck!"
"We'll sashimi every last one."
"Just leave it to us!"
About 15 minutes under enemy fire, and the enemy's flank was right there.
Seeing it, I sighed half in relief, half in anticipation, and said to Karin,
"Those dumb snail fuckers must be too busy fighting—they've barely turned three ranks on the side when they should be wheeling the whole formation."
"Feels like heaven's helping our platoon leader rack up merits."
"You think?"
Perfect conditions for a charge—like something out of dialogue in a story.
Soon after, a high-ranking Rhine Palts Empire officer trumpeted,
"Pierce their flank and cut off their breath!"