Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Defend the Center
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"Uh... uh... uh...?"
The empire's formation was the same as always: the most vulnerable conscripts crammed into the center, packed tight in a dense array. It wasn't easy for them to run, and with veterans holding the flanks, their morale wouldn't crumble easily.
And thanks to the duke's elite soldier training program, their confidence was at an all-time high. They were holding up well even against the sudden charge of the elves.
"Hold those spears right!"
"We can block them! Remember what we've been doing!"
"Stick together and live, scatter and die! They won't spare you even if you surrender!"
The problem was that even though they'd successfully repelled the elves' sudden charge, the impact had slightly disrupted their formation.
Just as they were starting to think they could win if they just held like this, a group of golden cavalry appeared dead ahead.
They rode massive warhorses far larger than those of the other elves, clad in golden barding and armor. In one hand, they held short spears; in the other, long lances.
Dudududu—
They started slow but gradually picked up speed until they hit their top velocity. As they closed in right up to the conscripts' faces, the men hastily raised their spears, convinced they could hold this time too.
At that moment, the short spears thrown by the Keshiks slammed into the throats of those who'd raised their own spears with such hopeful thoughts.
"Gack!"
"Urk!"
The Keshiks' javelins shattered the empire's front line in an instant. Those struck squarely in the throat naturally dropped their spears and collapsed, creating just enough of a gap for the khan's combat riders to pour through.
Bam!
"Argh!"
"Monsters!"
If these had been well-trained soldiers, the outcome might have been different. They would have known that even knights couldn't charge head-on without taking losses. But...
"Run!"
"We can't win!"
Men who'd only ever farmed their whole lives couldn't become elite troops just because you handed them spears and let them rack up a few victories.
"Your Grace! The center! The center is collapsing!"
"I can see that! How many knights do we have in reserve?"
"Not even a hundred! Those barbarians have the cavalry on both flanks pinned down!"
The duke and his aides buzzed with frantic chatter. The center—over three hundred thousand men strong, by the numbers—collapsing to a mere three hundred. The nobles finally grasped what the duke had meant when he called the conscripts a giant sandcastle.
Whatever the case, with the entire army on the brink of collapse, the duke racked his brain for a solution.
"Order the longbowmen to ignore friendly fire and shoot those bastards down! And signal the rear of the wings to pull back and reinforce the center!"
The duke decided to abandon part of the center. Ordering the longbowmen to fire without regard for allies. War never went smoothly, and the current situation was dire.
The only thing that had worked so far was the plan to ambush the elves attacking the rear. Soon, the longbowmen loosed their arrows.
Pew! Thunk! Thud!
"Arrows! Arrows raining down!"
Decai laughed as he plowed straight through the imperial forces like lions among sheep, only to face a hail of indiscriminate arrows.
"Haha! The old man's getting desperate! But you think these puny arrows can stop us?!"
Every swing of his long lance sent soldiers toppling like scarecrows, and every thunder of hooves crushed more beneath them. The arrows now served only to thin the packed imperial ranks, carving out space for his men.
"General! How far are we going?!"
One Keshik shouted, and he bellowed back in a thunderous voice.
"Straight to the end! Wouldn't it be grand to take the duke's head ourselves and offer it to the khan?!"
"Haha! We'll follow you to the end!"
The khan's war of tribal unification had wiped out countless foes. His men charged through the empire's soldiers in a frenzy.
"You bastard! Where do you think you're going?!"
"You don't pass here!"
A few knights who'd shaken off the clinging elves tried to block them, but a handful of knights couldn't stop them. With that, the distance between Decai and the duke shrank.
"Hup!"
Meanwhile, I cleaved down every elf in sight alongside the cavalry. The ambushed elves screamed, convinced they were surrounded on all sides by the empire's army, but from our perspective—with elves swarming us several times over—we had no room for leisure.
Even after felling dozens, elves were all I could see in every direction. That alone showed how frantic the battle was.
At least the reserve forces waiting at the main body's rear were bolstering us, but it still wasn't enough.
"Viscount! How many have you got?!"
"Fifty-two! Less talk, more kills!"
"Didn't need the order—I'm on it!"
If these were knights, we'd be shredding the elves without a care. But the troops I led were cavalry, not knights, so the fight felt like walking a knife's edge. Once the panicked elves shook off their confusion, we could end up the ones getting reversed.
And right then, one cavalryman rushed up beside me, his face pale with panic.
"Viscount! Big trouble! The main body's center is collapsing!"
What? The center collapsing? This suddenly?
"What are you talking about? Why is the center breaking?!"
"Golden-armored riders burst out and just steamrolled it!"
How could the center—with over fifty thousand men—collapse? Sure, it was mostly conscripts, relatively weaker than elsewhere, but even a sandbag wall of fifty thousand would hold firm.
"Damn it..."
I scrambled up a nearby hill to survey the battlefield and finally understood why the center was crumbling.
A band of golden-armored cavalry had punched a hole in the center, and elves were now pouring arrows into it indiscriminately. Worse, the empire's own longbowmen in the rear were firing at those golden elves too.
Elves shooting from the front, friendly arrows from behind—morale hitting rock bottom was inevitable.
Elite troops with good gear and training might hold, but not men who'd been farmers until recently. And...
"Those bastards... they're gunning for the duke."
The path they were carving led straight to the command tent where the duke stood.
"What are the knights doing?"
I checked their side and saw it wasn't good. The elves were throwing everything they had to pin down the knights and medium cavalry—hooks, lassos, targeting gaps in armor, even grappling in close combat. They fought with a resolve to take their foes down with them.
"Kyle!"
As I debated abandoning the rear elves to charge those golden disruptors in the center, Lenia's voice rang out.
"Lady? How are you here?"
Didn't you go forward with the other knights? She raised her visor and replied.
"We broke through the encirclement—barely! But the center looks in real danger!"
She rode with about three dozen knights from various houses and affiliations. Their armor was scratched to hell from the brutal fight to escape.
"We have to stop those guys! If the center falls, the battle's over! The duke's in danger too!"
Lenia nodded at my words. With her battle experience and tactical knowledge, she knew it well.
"Let's go! Viscount Lucas! I'll follow your lead!"
That was Lenia's declaration. And it meant one thing: she, who'd been leading knights at the vanguard, was yielding command to me.
"May I have the honor of taking point?"
Honestly, I didn't want the front, but refusing their offer of supreme honor felt wrong.
Still, I checked if anyone else wanted it, but the knights raised their weapons and cheered.
"Lord Lucas takes point today!"
"Riding that beast of a horse and not leading? Doesn't make sense!"
"Live for honor, die in glory!"
With cheers like that, refusing would be an insult. I spurred Merlin to the forefront. Lenia rode up beside me.
"Ready?"
I scanned the battlefield. The center crumbling like a sandcastle under waves. We had to plunge in and face those damned golden elves. The battle's fate hung on that clash. I lowered my visor.
"Ready."
Through the helmet slit, the din of battle poured in. Amid screams and shouts, Lenia's voice cut clear.
"Rally the others. Make sure they charge without fear."
I thought it over. What to say? Only one phrase came to mind—the knights' favorite rallying cry, mad for honor.
"Knights of the empire! Fight for honor! Will you choose to live in scorn, or die in honor?!"
"Live for honor, die in glory!"
"So our descendants won't shame our names!"
The knights roared in response. In that instant, Merlin surged forward. We flew down the hill, the target looming closer.
"Rahil! Sound the horn!"
Bwooo—
Had they heard me? A blaring trumpet echoed from behind soon after. The signal: we're charging—clear a path.
"Make way! Charge!"
Even the command tent responded, hoisting a flag and blasting trumpets in turn. Like the parting of the Red Sea, the center's soldiers split aside.
Still, maneuvering tens of thousands at once was no easy feat, leaving us just a narrow gap. But for now, it was enough.
These knights, seasoned riders if not quite elf-level, navigated the tight squeeze—barely wide enough for a few horses shoulder-to-shoulder—without issue, no orders needed.