Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: The Steel Charge
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"That actually sounds pretty good...?"
"Hey, brother, you some fallen noble or something?"
The mercenaries began to come around to my words, one by one. Amid them, I hoisted the Two-Hander I was holding high into the air.
"Are you going to run away like this and wander as losers? Or turn back and become heroes? It's up to you!"
"Aw, hell! Die once, die twice—what's the difference?"
"Let's go! Fuck it, let's go flip this war on its head!"
In an instant, even Cutter's cheerleaders were on board. Not every mercenary joined in, but around two hundred pledged to follow my lead. A quarter of our original numbers, but I was satisfied with that much.
A force of two hundred. A drop in the bucket compared to the whole army... but we made it back to the battlefield we'd fled.
"Waaah!"
The battle was still raging fiercely. Just as I'd predicted, the enemy's main force was slowly enveloping our center, aiming to crush it completely. Behind them, their poorly equipped conscripts were fully exposed.
No one would have imagined that the routed mercenaries would return to the fray. No one. Who'd expect a bunch of money-grubbing cowards who bolt at the first sign of trouble to come back?
That's why they'd pay a heavy price. Not that they were lacking—it was an efficient strategy, leveraging the elves to seize the advantage and push it to victory. If not for me.
"Today, we can become war heroes, not cowardly, money-hungry mercenaries! And claim all the rewards that come with it! Let's go—let's change our fate!"
"Waaah!"
The mercenaries raised their weapons as one and roared.
"Lady! You must retreat!"
Lenia bit her lip hard at the knights' words. The tactics weren't bad. They'd even pushed the enemy back early on. But those damn light cavalry turned the tide in an instant.
"Lady!"
"We can't retreat! If we fall back now, then..."
The grudge with Sarisa Count ran deep. True, in a noble territory skirmish, no one would lose their lives or lands—but nobles prized honor above life itself, and the city would be sacked.
It would mean the end of the Cligrove family's hard-earned prosperity. That's why she couldn't withdraw. Even if it meant dying here. Her foe, Sarisa Count, surely felt the same.
"If you retreat now, we can plan for the future! Please...!"
But in that moment, a miracle occurred for Lenia.
"Waaah!"
"Get out of the way, you little shits!"
Crude curses and cheers, cheap as dirt. The battlefield was chaos, but Lenia noticed the enemy's main force—poised to envelop the center—waver the instant she heard it. She didn't know exactly what was happening, but her instincts told her this was a chance that wouldn't come again.
"Charge! Swords of Cligrove! Mount up! Prepare to assault!"
Purrrr!
Heavily armored warhorses snorted, as knights clad head to toe in steel mounted them. Living battering rams that could shatter enemy lines just by trampling them prepared to charge at Lenia's command.
"Formation: wedge! Smash their center in one go, then wheel around!"
In one hand, lances several meters long; in the other, shields. They secured themselves to their mounts with thigh power alone.
"Prepare to charge! Follow the Lady!"
"Sir Edward leads! Sir Karon! Sir Stendal! The senior knights and I will take point!"
At the news that Commander Lenia herself would lead the charge, the knights formed up with confident faces. The noblest at the forefront.
What an honorable, noble assault straight out of legend. In this moment, the knights' morale pierced the heavens. They'd charge to their deaths without regret.
"Sound the trumpets! Let all know the Swords of Cligrove stand before them!"
She raised the banner high—her golden hair shining brighter than the sun. Emblazoned on the ornate flag was the Cligrove crest: a lion clutching a gold coin. A gift from the count before battle. It marked her as the commander leading all of Cligrove.
Bwooo!
The trumpets blared loud enough to drown the din of battle. The steel cavalry surged forward as one.
Thud-thud!
Like a massive crate on the move, the tightly packed knights thundered across the earth. Barely thirty strong, but their presence alone filled allies with boundless courage and enemies with despair.
At the very front, Lenia held the banner aloft, her horse steady without a waver.
"Forward! You who live for honor and die in glory! Fear not! Your lord, proxy of Cligrove Count and commander of Cligrove, stands at the fore!"
Their individual weights nearing a ton apiece, the thunder of the charge and the majestic trumpets sent the soldiers' sagging morale soaring skyward.
"The knights are coming! Hold on just a bit longer!"
"It's the commander's charge! Hold with your lives, you bastards!"
From the front, Lenia scanned the battlefield slowly, banner held high. The situation looked grim at a glance. But behind the suddenly wavering enemy center, a familiar face caught her eye.
Taller than most by a head, with a massive build—he was the man who'd spotted the elves first and introduced himself as Kyle. The one she'd thought had fled was swinging that giant sword from the enemy's rear, fighting more fiercely and bravely than anyone.
"That guy..."
But she tore her gaze from him and fixed it on the approaching enemy center. The mercenary wasn't important now. Her eyes met those of the enemy soldiers.
"They're terrified."
As she said, the soldiers' eyes brimmed with fear. Their rear support was shaking from who-knows-what, and head-on, armored juggernauts on massive warhorses bore down. Only a fool wouldn't fear that.
Sarisa Count's elites, yes—but not fearless. All living things dread death on some level.
"Increase speed!"
As the gap closed to about two hundred meters, Lenia urged the knights faster. From a walking trot, their pace quickened, hooves shaking the ground.
Then, within one hundred meters. With momentum built, Lenia raised the command banner. Time for full charge.
"Full charge! Wedge assault—one pass through their center, then wheel! Death to Cligrove's foes!"
"Long live Cligrove! Follow the commander!"
"Charge with honor! Die in glory!"
Amid the knights' cries and the nearing enemy, Lenia leveled her lance at the terrified foes and bellowed.
"Fear not! I stand before you! Charge until this banner breaks and my body rolls in the dirt!"
Thrum-thrum-thrum!
Horse, rider, armor—a ton of living weaponry at full gallop. The facing soldiers thought only of death. They could hold if they stayed tight. All but the front line.
"Uwaaak!"
"Spears...! Raise spears!"
Too late to flee, no guarantee it'd save them anyway. Recalling their training, they braced spears against the ground, tips toward the knights—but...
Bam! Crunch!
Sturdy wooden shafts snapped like twigs, shards flying everywhere. Front-rankers were impaled on lances or trampled underhoof. One fate or the other.
"Aaaak!"
Elite soldiers, proud of their rigorous training, screamed in agony as horses bowled them over, hooves crumpling them like tin cans.
"Can't hold! We can't hold!"
"Save me!"
In truth, the warhorses carrying Lenia and the knights weren't that fast—maybe fourteen kph at best. But at that speed, their tonnage delivered lethal impact to human flesh.
Pushed, crushed, pulverized. Few died to lances; most to the overwhelming mass.
"Where are our knights?!"
As soldiers were miserably trampled, desperately calling for their own knights—the only salvation—Sarisa Count's knights were only just saddling their armored mounts.