Chapter 77
Chapter 77
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Pastek Hill Ambush Operation (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
And a fortnight later, at Pastek Hill.
"This is called a hill? It's practically a canyon, Platoon Leader."
A canyon referred to terrain with a path wide enough for people in the center, flanked by cliffs on both sides. The landscape stretching out before us was so rugged it might as well have been one.
The difference was that the central path was wide enough for dozens of people to pass abreast, with fairly steep hills on either side instead of sheer cliffs.
'Perfect spot for a small force to ambush a large one.'
"You're telling me. But if we hadn't dug in here, we'd all have had to retreat. Think about it—that fortress with fewer than 250 men, and they want to hold it in some frozen siege?"
Baker, standing next to me, nodded in agreement.
"That's right, damn it. That worthless piece of trash baron who ate sauerkraut and bread like it was his last meal."
"No argument there. You wanna go chop logs down there yourself?"
The guy started scratching his head.
"Aw, come on. I might not be a veteran mercenary yet, but I've got seniority, right?"
I heard that and gave the back of his head a light smack.
The satisfying smack felt great; I could hit him a few more times and not get tired of it.
"Seniority my ass. If you're so butt-hurt, earn a promotion, punk."
As Baker grumbled and wandered off, Karin approached me.
"Karin, you done scouting the perimeter?"
Karin puffed out her chest and nodded.
"All done. About 2 km from here, there's a Montmartre army that looks like around 5,000 strong heading this way."
A lone person could cover 2 km in under 20 minutes on foot...
But for an army of about 5,000, it'd take them roughly 2 to 3 hours to reach us.
They weren't moving freely like a single person or a small group—they had to match the pace of wagons pulled by horses or oxen.
A group of thousands had to maintain order while marching, which naturally slowed them down.
"Got it? Thanks for the hard work."
Karin smirked at my words, lowering her voice a bit.
"Hard work? Honestly, being around our baron was way tougher."
We had some time to kill, so a little chit-chat wouldn't hurt.
I sighed and nodded at her comment.
"Just thinking about it gives me chills. This is just between you and me, Karin, but what kind of baron gets called to ambush prep and just drinks all day and gropes women? I got summoned for ops meetings multiple times, and that bastard..."
Once we started trash-talking the guy—our boss, no less—Karin dove right in.
"What'd he do?"
"He behaves during strategy sessions, but give him a breather and he's groping his maids' thighs and asses like it's his job. So I asked one of the baron's regular soldiers, and get this: the guy thinks this genius ambush op he's commanding is a sure win. Days boozing, nights with the maids."
Hey, I wasn't about to complain about nighttime fun.
Most nights, unless it was urgent, Karin and I went at it until we were spent—it was routine.
But if you're the commander, shouldn't common sense dictate you bust your ass during the day to check every detail of the op?
'Nah, the real issue is this brainless punk screwing everything up by showing off.'
Karin let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Remember when the baron saw us walking by? He said, 'Schwaben's got good taste; she's a beauty worth obsessing over. Must be nice for you.' What makes him think he can say that like we're buddies? If he wasn't the baron..."
Strictly speaking, it wasn't the baron's fault.
Among nobles, trading compliments like 'The count must be thrilled with such a beautiful wife' was proper etiquette.
That said, this baron had eyed Karin from head to toe like he was licking her with his gaze, looking at me with pity...
'That prick—next time we meet as enemies, I'm killing him for real.'
I hoped after this war, whether Dalton sided with Montmartre or wherever, we'd get a shot to smash that baron's skull.
After our brief gossip, once no one was around...
Karin furrowed her brow, bit her lip, and asked,
"Martin, this op... it's really gonna work, right?"
Honestly, I couldn't guarantee success even now.
We'd prepped as best we could, ready to smash them...
But if they sent scouts midway, we could get counter-ambushed.
War was a dogfight where both sides risked lives for honor, glory, and wealth.
'Prep to the max and fight with resolve to die—that's all there is.'
"No issues, Karin. They have no choice but to pass through here. They'll fall for it. And we've prepped thoroughly, haven't we?"
Karin nodded.
She forced a slight smile.
"Yeah, last night we came here, chopped logs to roll down the hill all night, stocked up plenty of oil barrels for them. Seeing you channel aura and slice through logs like a kitchen knife through meat with your sword... impressive."
With Karin and Lucia watching, I'd wanted to show off, so I'd infused my sword with aura and felled about a hundred trees.
I figured it'd get boring, but Lucia wagged her tail clapping, and Karin kept watching...
"The second they enter, we roll logs, oil barrels, light 'em up. Then arrows and spells rain down—what happens then?"
No need to say it.
People trip from a light shove when caught off guard, die from a tap to the head from concussion.
An army hit unexpectedly by rolling logs, oil drums, and flaming arrows from the hills?
Chaos in seconds; they'd lose all control.
'Like a drunk who chugged a keg of beer.'
"Pour arrows and spells on them in that state? They'll panic like those drunk soldiers at Ceriz Fortress last time. 5,000 or 10,000 of those fools—what's to fear?"
Karin smiled at my words.
"True. It's your plan, Martin. Gotta believe it'll work."
I patted her shoulder.
"When they panic, just make sure your arrows nail their officers' necks. Guaranteed win."
Amid rolling logs, flaming oil, spells, and arrows, if their brass starts dropping—who holds?
Not even the toughest would stop shaking.
To ease her last tension, I decided on a joke.
I lightly touched her chest and whispered,
"So after we win and get back, do me with these?"
The one thing I regretted in bed with Karin? She'd never used those E-cup breasts on me once.
Said as a joke, but it was serious for me.
'Not a virgin anymore, but tits are still a man's dreams and hopes.'
She blushed to her ears at the sudden dirty joke.
"How much of a perv are you? Fine... after we win, I'll do it."
Then one of my platoon members rushed up beside us.
"Senior Platoon Leader, Squad Leader Karin. Captain Dalton says move to assigned positions."
"Got it. Anything else?"
"No, sir. Just follow the plan."
Hearing that, I headed straight to my spot.
Enemies weren't visible yet, but far off, dust clouds from their march were rising.
The guys around started trembling at the sight.
"Didn't think much prepping, but seeing that... scary as hell."
"Fuck, can we really survive? 2,000 against 5,000."
"Shut your trap—don't want those bastards hearing."
As platoon leader, I kept my dignity and said nothing, but honestly, I was scared shitless.
Cold sweat on my palms, throat gulping nonstop from nerves...
'Admit fear, and it's over.'
I lightly thumped my breastplate with my fist and gritted my teeth.
Imagined rising higher, Karin, Lucia, and other girls with me.
Fear suddenly felt stupid.
'Life's one shot—risking it for my dreams, right?'
With that resolve, I smacked the backs of the scared punks.
"You lot whine every day about wanting pretty girls to marry. Gotta earn cash for that. See those moneybags coming? No fear—fight. One shot at life, yeah?"