Chapter 99
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: Beheading Operation (4)
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Baron Ainz's thunderous roar echoed through the air.
The soldiers under Count Beluga, who had been relaxed at the rear, were struck with shock.
Only then did the enemy finally notice our presence and begin scrambling to respond.
They hurriedly grabbed their spears and darted about chaotically, trying to form a phalanx.
In times like these, even if they couldn't afford mental leisure, they at least needed to stay calm enough not to get in each other's way.
But these fools, caught completely off guard by the blow to their rear, couldn't even maintain the bare minimum of order.
Some idiot who was supposed to head left started sprinting right instead.
"You mad bastard! Your squad goes left, left!"
In other spots, guys rushing around kept colliding with each other.
"Argh, damn it, where'd you get your eyes?!"
"You're the one who ran weird!"
"You filthy dog bastard!"
With the situation turning so dire, if it had been our own troops pulling this nonsense, it would've been an endless string of laughably stupid mishaps we couldn't even chuckle at.
And that's when Lucia finished her magic incantation.
"Spear of flames that burn the enemy, incinerate the foes before me! Fire Spear!"
⟨ Fire Spear ⟩
Around the same time, the other mages completed their chants as well, and Baron Ainz swung his sword toward the front.
"Kill 'em all! Show them the might of the Reingpaltz Empire loud and clear!"
At his command, the archers unleashed a barrage of arrows toward the rear of Count Beluga's army.
The enemy was getting hammered unilaterally by our magic and arrows.
"Argh, damn it!"
"Those cowardly rat bastards..."
"Spears! Grab your spears and brace! The bastards are coming soon!"
Amid the chaos, one guy suggested they at least form a formation first to properly defend against our beheading unit's assault, but...
Our mages weren't about to just sit back and watch the enemy try to organize.
"Fire Spear!"
"Fire!!"
"Phoenix Strike!"
Dozens of fire-based spells—the most effective for inflicting heavy casualties—rained down on the enemy. Those who became targets of the magical bombardment...
Turned to ash in an instant or roasted upright into human kebabs.
A few green recruits who survived the sudden ambush and devastating magic barrage started showing signs of PTSD.
"Henry turned to ash! Damn it, he said we'd make it big, rake in cash, and go back home rich!"
"No, no! We're all gonna die!"
"Damn it, formation... we need to form a formation..."
The one freaking out like they were all doomed got his head lopped off as an example, and the rest of the panickers started receiving some physical "therapy" from their seniors.
Watching that, I was reminded once again just how vulnerable humans are to ambushes.
'People or beasts, doesn't matter—hit 'em from behind, and they lose their minds.'
Baron Ainz immediately raised his sword to the sky and issued the order.
"Sound the trumpets and beat the drums! All soldiers, roar your battle cries as you charge! Hit them while they're in disarray! And fire the signal flares!"
As soon as he finished, the trumpeters and drummers of our beheading unit struck up a fast, spirited rhythm.
Signal arrows and several spells shot up into the sky.
Among those fighting under Count Beluga, the ones who looked like veterans—well-armored and all—seemed more terrified by the "unknown signal" going up than by their comrades dropping dead.
"Damn it, it's a trap!"
"If you don't wanna die, run now!"
"You dogshit empire bastards!"
Some celebrity I like once said on TV, "When you think it's too late, that's when it's really too late."
If even they realized it was already too late, what choice did these guys have but to get trampled?
I bellowed to my Hundred-Man Squad.
"Full charge! Just like we trained!"
This was an order for the rookies and most of the non-Aura users to move exactly as drilled in formation and guerrilla training, grinding until their hands bled and thighs chafed.
The instruction worked better than I'd expected at easing my Hundred-Man Squad's tension.
"Forward! Time to change our fates!"
"Fate my ass, first let's earn more coin and get drunk."
"Charge in, damn it! The Hundred-Man Captain's watching from behind!"
With that, the soldiers of the beheading unit, led by my Hundred-Man Squad, advanced swiftly toward the enemy lines.
Glancing at the other mercenary bands en route, they were trying hard to keep spacing and sync their movements, but...
Compared to my Hundred-Man Squad—where drill training had us all thrusting spears and bashing foes in perfect unison—it looked downright sloppy.
Of ten guys in a single rank, two would surge ahead while lifting their left arm when everyone else raised the right.
Their spacing got all messed up, so after just two hundred meters, their neat rectangle had stretched into a wonky trapezoid.
The leaders of those units screamed from the rear.
"You worthless shits, rectangle formation! How many times have I told you your lives depend on holding shape?!"
Until guns came along—or more precisely, assault rifles that let one man drop dozens in seconds—battles were decided by how well your troops stuck together during charges or clashes.
I got why they were yelling like that.
'That said, that's exactly why my Hundred-Man Squad under the White Beard Mercenary Corps stands out so much.'
Stepping in sync like that, we soon faced the enemy, whose formation had completely collapsed.
Back in the day, I'd have led from the front, sword in hand, barking orders at the vanguard, but...
"Right now, I need to conserve energy for the decisive moment... Otto, Squad Leader, I'm counting on you!"
Otto raised his right hand as if to say, "Don't worry."
Moments later, our forces clashed with Count Beluga's troops.
Our organized assault, with proper formation and control, against Beluga's army, still reeling from the ambush and out of their minds.
The outcome of the collision went exactly as we'd predicted before engaging—overwhelmingly in our favor.
"These morons, not even spear range and they think they're hot shit!"
"Don't get cocky!"
"Hold phalanx and push!"
Count Beluga's soldiers couldn't form a proper formation, making organized resistance impossible.
Meanwhile, our troops, with solid phalanxes, fought in coordination with the guys in front, behind, or beside them.
"Damn it, stabbing from the side like cowards."
Even if a Hundred-Man Squad soldier fell here and there, another instantly filled the gap, so no holes opened in our lines.
"Milton! Damn it, these bastards are all dead!"
Thanks to operating the formation like that, my Hundred-Man Squad butchered the enemy even more efficiently and reliably.
Otto and a few other squad leaders issued timely orders to support our side.
"2nd Squad! Support the Golden Pig bastards to the side!"
2nd Squad shifted to aid the Golden Pig Mercenary Corps in their fight.
The Golden Pigs cheered at the sudden reinforcements.
"Damn, backup!"
"White Beard guys are badass."
"Kill those Beluga scum!"
2nd Squad didn't show it outwardly, but catching the Aura in their eyes, I saw their lips curling to their ears.
'Well, who wouldn't feel good getting props on the battlefield?'
The 2nd Squad Leader bellowed.
"Not straight at where the Golden Pigs are hitting—thrust hard diagonal right-up! Then wheel back!"
2nd Squad moved swiftly and orderly toward the Beluga side, then...
"Now! Thrust! In and out, thrust! Sync to the signal! Thrust!"
They slammed into the flanks of the mercenaries fighting alongside the Montmartre guys against the Golden Pigs.
With perfect phalanx maintenance, harnessing the group's power...
"Damn it, who stabbed the side?!"
"You plague bastards!"
"Regroup, regroup!"
Caught off guard on their flank, one squad's attack shattered their momentum in seconds.
'This'll spread our rep even further.'
Thinking that made my nose rise a bit higher.
Still, times like these called for caution to avoid big trouble later...
"Martin Hundred-Man Squad! Don't slack off just 'cause you're doing well! Stick to drill, move sharp!"
"Yes, Hundred-Man Captain!"
"I'll call the cadence myself—follow it exactly!"
With that, I eyed the enemies in front of our unit.
"One!"
At my cadence, all three ranks of my Hundred-Man Squad thrust spears in unison.
They might block the first rank's attack, but with the second and third thrusting all at once...
Montmartre's regular soldiers couldn't even attempt evasion, bleeding out and dying.
"Withdraw spears, two!"
They yanked back enemy spears or weapons in sync.
"Good, one again!"
Another unison thrust, and the foes before us crumbled under the collective might.
'This is the power of the group...'
Unlike battles relying on my personal strength so far, wielding the unit like this...
The sheer rush of that power had me hooked in an instant.