Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Eve of the Storm (5)
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In a situation where everything was perfect.
Have you ever witnessed all success crumbling into utter failure due to a single mistake?
Screams laced with agony and despair stabbed into my ears like arrows. I could only stare blankly at the carnage unfolding before my eyes.
The soldiers whose formation had collapsed were reduced to nothing more than prey devoured by predators.
I took in every horrific detail without missing a single one—beastkin tearing into them while they were still alive, ripping limbs from bodies.
And the one responsible for unleashing this hellish nightmare was me.
The start had been far from bad.
Opening the battle before the main force even moved—that was the vanguard's role.
We'd succeeded not only in the ambush but even in luring the Rebel King. As the vanguard, we'd more than fulfilled our duty.
The problem came afterward. Despite the ambush, the beastkin responded with eerie calm, swiftly forming up to counterattack.
Morgana, who had commanded the army in my stead until now, had no choice but to remain behind in the territory.
She'd strongly voiced her desire to march out, but we couldn't have both commanders in the vanguard.
This battlefield was mine alone to command and conquer through my own strength.
'Damn it.'
My breathing grew ragged. A crushing weight, heavy as a mountain, bore down on my chest.
A single word from me, a single gesture, and five thousand lives could be forfeit.
But I snapped myself out of it. There was no time for hesitation.
On a chaotic battlefield full of variables, hesitation was the harbinger of annihilation, the parent of defeat. No wonder they say "soldiers falter when generals hesitate."
I took position at the vanguard's forefront. Raising my greatsword high, I roared at the top of my lungs.
"Follow me!!"
Waaaaaaaaah!!
Thankfully, the enemy's top fighter, the Rebel King himself, was locked in combat with Master Grandel.
That meant their front lines were vulnerable right now. Judging thus, I issued commands to press the assault.
And it didn't take long to realize my judgment was a grave error.
The moment we clashed head-on, the wings of their forces flanking from behind mobilized in an instant, enveloping us.
'Much faster than I thought...!!'
They weren't cavalry, but their speed far outpaced ordinary infantry. The beastkin seized the advantage in mobility right away.
Soldiers now faced enemies assaulting from both front and flanks simultaneously. At least the front had me holding it.
But the flanks I couldn't cover began collapsing in moments... and this was the gruesome result.
The nightmarish hell I'd dreaded and tried so desperately to avoid now sprawled before me.
Yet I couldn't turn away. No, I wouldn't turn away. This was the consequence of my botched command.
Of course, if we fought on without surrender, we could still win. The soldiers hadn't been wiped out, and above all, I was here.
'But what meaning is there in such a victory? The troops aren't some tiny squad... over half have already lost their lives.'
The deliberation didn't last long. I drew a dagger from my bosom and plunged it straight into my throat.
I wouldn't shirk the blunder I'd committed. I'd take responsibility with my own death.
True to form, I awoke once more without forgetting a single detail. Before me stood the beastkin in formation.
At the very least, I now knew that charging head-on would draw their wings to strike our flanks.
'Recall everything I've learned so far, without missing a thing.'
Even as an ordinary person, I wasn't incapable of study. In fact, I'd devoted considerable time to it.
Because I hated the idea of others dying because of me. Just like this very situation.
But regrettably, knowing something in theory and applying it in practice were worlds apart.
Confronting my own shortcomings was far more painful than I'd imagined. Yet even through that, I didn't give up.
'Draw on the utmost limits of what I can do, based on that last experience... that's the only path to victory.'
All the knowledge I'd studied, all the experience I'd gained firsthand—I weaponized every bit of it.
Luckily, despite being an ordinary person, I wasn't a fool. A straightforward countermeasure came to mind soon enough.
Why clash directly at all? I bellowed at the top of my voice.
"Respond with bows and crossbows! Keep your distance and engage them thoroughly!!"
The beastkin had few archers, and those they had were pathetically weak. Targeting that weakness should give us the edge easily.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ It took at least three soldiers to handle a single beastkin warrior.
This wasn't some old adage or proverb—it was the stark assessment of experts.
True enough, the beastkin had dominated the demon realm as apex predators for ages, thanks to their overwhelming physical prowess.
Not every beastkin tribe fit the bill perfectly, but the bear clan did to a tee.
Even so, the reason the soldiers held formation without fleeing was twofold: they were elite, well-trained troops,
and they trusted their commander, Cain Blackguard, to lead them.
He'll guide us to victory. buoyed by that faith, the soldiers stood their ground without bolting.
And at last, after surveying the battlefield, Cain raised his greatsword high.
"Respond with bows and crossbows! Keep your distance and engage them thoroughly!!"
No sooner had the order rung out than the elites moved like clockwork. Arrows soon flew from drawn bowstrings.
Yet the beastkin showed no panic, even under the steel rain pouring down like a tempest.
If we wouldn't fight head-on, they'd just force the issue themselves.
And the beastkin could indeed manage it—their speed outstripped infantry and nearly matched cavalry, backed by monstrous physiques.
Leveraging their strengths to the hilt, the bear clan launched their hunt.
"Kill them all!!"
"Time to feast!!"
"Th-the enemy is batting arrows aside with their hands while charging!"
But even elites had limits. Especially against monsters swatting arrows away mid-charge...
In truth, a fair number of beastkin were dying to arrows upon closer inspection.
But with so many barreling right up to their faces, it was inevitable they'd seem fewer.
Yet just before the beastkin's razor claws could reach the soldiers' throats, a jet-black greatsword flashed like lightning, severing those hands.
"Fear not. I'll fight at your forefront."
The sight of that jet-black greatsword slung over his shoulder instilled a reassuring strength greater than any fortress wall.
Cain Blackguard. He commanded the knights with utter nonchalance, as if he'd foreseen the beastkin's numbers.
"Knights, forward! Block the beastkin assault as best you can! Soldiers, keep firing from behind without cease!!"
Of course, hitting beastkin charging while using terrain cover wasn't easy, but orders were orders.
The chaos subsided in an instant. Soldiers relentlessly loosed arrows as commanded.
The beastkin weren't slacking either, closing distances in flashes with their brute strength and terrain mastery.
However... even those beastkin couldn't breach the jet-black greatsword.
"Insane... is that bastard even human?!"
"Ignore him and charge!"
"Ignore him and we're all dead! Over a hundred kin have already been shredded by that blade!"
Ignore Cain and rush past? His monstrous greatsword mulched their comrades.
But engaging him? He wouldn't die, and arrows kept raining from behind nonstop.
Even the knights bravely swinging alongside him were no pushovers.
And as if possessed by ghosts, every attempt to flank and exploit gaps was spotted and countered.
'Something's off... it feels like we're dancing in the palm of his hand.'
As time passed and casualties mounted, the beastkin's momentum began to falter—them, of all sides.
No matter the tactic, he saw through it effortlessly, counterattacked, and piled on the damage.
Especially Cain, swinging his greatsword amid an aura of death itself—he was the Grim Reaper incarnate to the beastkin.
"The enemy's momentum is waning!"
"Press them hard!!"
"Trust in the lord and follow him! Victory will be ours!!"
On the flip side, imperial morale soared. Trust the lord's command, and enemies die. Thus, victory was assured.
Only after over thirty percent of their warriors fell could the beastkin finally retreat.
Even that was thanks to the Rebel King regaining his senses; otherwise, losses would've been far worse.
Compared to the bear clan's near thirty percent casualties, the imperial losses were under 150.
Considering the forces had been evenly matched at the outset, it was an overwhelming triumph.