Chapter 91
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: Senne Plains Battle (3)
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As soon as I gave the order, the men under Martin's Hundred formed a tight square formation, targeting the shafts of the enemies' spears rather than stabbing directly at them.
When the enemy thrust their spears at us, they smacked them hard with their own four-meter-long poles.
Most enemy soldiers knew that dropping their spear or losing balance meant instant death, so they desperately clung on by any means necessary.
But amid the relentless barrage of spear-shaft strikes, one poor Montmartre soldier finally fumbled and let go of his.
"Argh, damn it! My spear!"
And just like that, he couldn't dodge the spear thrust from another mercenary.
"Die, you Montmartre slug bastards!"
From a distance, it might look like a boring stalemate, but for me, the one directing this fight, this was the most bloodcurdling moment.
Because the tiniest gap here could snowball into a fatal wound that wipes out our entire Hundred.
'A master who can handle hundreds at once might manage, but not an expert like me...'
Besides, the enemy wasn't stupid—if they saw us cracking and starting to crumble, they'd immediately pull out their main force or someone like me who knows how to swing a blade.
In other words, if we broke here, it could all end in one shot. So I had to guide this seemingly dull back-and-forth perfectly from the start.
The Ten-Man Leaders and Squad Leaders knew it too, barking fiercely at their men.
"Don't hesitate—smash and stab! Freaking out gets you killed!"
"If you wanna switch fates, fight with your life on the line! If we get pushed back here, we're all done for!"
"Damn it, either die here or fight!"
Under their relentless prodding and urging, the soldiers hammered and stabbed at the enemies' spear shafts like their lives depended on it—which they did.
I considered jumping in midway to support them.
'From Hundred Leader up, we're commanders. Gotta step in at the right moment.'
Wasting energy showboating from the start wasn't smart.
Proving that point, the Montmartre guys right in front of us were just Squad Leader-level types waving spears around, biding their time.
No sign yet of the big shots stepping in recklessly.
"You damn cowards, how long do you plan to pussyfoot around like this?"
It felt like barely ten minutes had passed since we clashed with the Montmartre forces in this war, but it dragged on like we'd been sprawled out here for an hour.
At this rate, I'd rather take on guys mindlessly charging at me, slicing their spear shafts with my sword and rampaging through their lines—that felt less stressful.
Is that what they mean by "when the body's tired, the mind rests, and when the mind's tired, the body rests"?
Amid the taut tension, a sudden shout erupted from the enemy lines.
"Black Lily Mercenary Corps Squad Leader Leonhardt is stepping up! Clear the way, everyone—I'll take that Hundred Leader's head myself!"
I turned toward the voice, and there was Leonhardt, swinging a two-handed sword wildly.
No blue aura mist marking an Aura Expert, but as a Squad Leader, he could wield aura well enough.
With inhuman strength beyond any normal man's, he cleaved through our soldiers.
"Argh, damn it!"
"Someone stop that bastard!"
"Long spears! Drop the long spears! Keep him at bay with spears!"
Leonhardt massacred our Hundred's men like parting the sea, all while laughing.
"Why are you mercenary punks so weak? Too feeble even for a knife?"
As he kept racking up kills, the Montmartre morale started rising.
"Follow Squad Leader Leonhardt!"
"Slaughter every last Rhinepfalz mercenary like this!"
"Push with this momentum! Go all the way!"
Black Lily or whatever they were called—if they kept building steam, we'd lose control of the flow...
Time for me to step in?
"Make way—I'll lop off that bastard's head."
I said that, about to personally behead Leonhardt myself.
"Martin, Hundred Leader—that guy's mine."
Karin smirked, curling one corner of her mouth, and grabbed my shoulder to hold me back.
She began channeling mana into the bow I'd gifted her, which soon swirled into fierce winds whipping around us.
"One shot, right between the eyes."
With that, Karin nocked an arrow, locking her gaze on the gap in his armor.
Wind visibly gathered at the arrowhead, sharp enough for my eyes to see, and she released the string.
The arrow flew, cloaked in gusts, straight at him.
Leonhardt swung his sword to block, but the arrow was far faster.
"Guhk."
Blood gushed from Leonhardt's neck in a violent spray.
He flailed at empty air and toppled forward, lifeless.
His Black Lily followers froze, jaws agape, speechless—then despair washed over their faces moments later.
"Squad Leader goes down to one arrow..."
"Damn it! No time to grieve—get ready!"
"The enemy's coming! They're almost here!"
The instant Karin confirmed his death, she unleashed a volley at the soldiers around him.
One by one, two by two, Black Lily mercenaries dropped, widening the gap near their fallen Squad Leader.
'Time to push in.'
"Otto! Otto, Squad Leader!"
Otto responded immediately, as if he'd been waiting for my call.
"Yes, Hundred Leader!"
"I'll lead the vanguard and tear apart those Black Lily losers or whatever they are. Cover the rear."
Otto's eyes gleamed at my words, and he nodded firmly.
"Leave it to me."
With that, I took in the full view of our Hundred ahead of me.
Back when I was just a Squad Leader, I'd pick the weakest spot like a wedge on command, and as long as my guys followed, that was enough.
But now, moving with that limited vision would be suicidal.
I had to assess the unit's size, where to strike, how to maneuver.
After a brief moment of calculation, my plan was to spear through the gap left by that dead Squad Leader up front.
Then split the unit to hit their left flank—perfect.
"Martin's Hundred—attention!"
Those with a moment to spare perked up their ears.
"From now on, I'll lead two Squads at the vanguard and hit that spot where their arrow-struck Squad Leader dropped. The remaining three Squads strike left, and Fourth Squad guards the rear with Otto!"
A simultaneous frontal and flank assault.
The classic hammer-and-anvil—how many could withstand that?
No army could.
"First and Second Squads—with me!"
"Shouldn't we report to Captain Dalton?"
"I'd love to, but no time! Kill those bastards first, then help the Captain fighting next to us!"
It stung ignoring that valid point, but in war, missing that one crucial moment...
Could cost you a massacre of your comrades.
'When the moment comes, go all in—or it's over.'
I drew my sword, carved through allies, and charged ahead; my men erupted in cheers.
"The mad dog Hundred Leader Martin is here!"
"Finally gonna smash those bastards good?"
"Hundred Leader Martin has arrived!"
Instead of replying, I shrugged.
Then gripped my sword two-handed, pondering the optimal, stable way for our Hundred to move and kill.
I circulated aura through my body, drawing out maximum power.
And spotted my first target.
A guy in chainmail armor, decent weapon in hand, barking orders around.
"Stay tight, everyone—just hold on, and the Vice Captain or big shots will handle it!"
Chop off a mid-level manager like that company section chief, and the grunts below freeze up.
"Let's start by killing that armored showoff."
Decision made, I kicked off the ground hard and shot forward.
Like an arrow, straight at my mark—who raised his weapon to check me.
"You damn..."
But his guard meant nothing.
My blade severed his neck before he could swing.
The Black Lily formation wavered slightly, and my men surged forward on command.
A hundred men—not huge, but...
Enough to make my presence shine.