Chapter 29
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Dawn Battle
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Nearly five hundred mounted troops.
From a distance, they would look like a proper cavalry unit.
But I knew the truth. Most of them weren’t real cavalrymen.
The 7th Legion was an infantry-heavy force. The only true cavalrymen were the fifty knights Sir Heinrich had brought as his escort. The remaining four hundred fifty or so were just mounted infantry riding spare horses.
A grand bluff.
Clop clop clop clop.
Then, from afar, a single rider kicked up dust as he galloped toward us.
One of the 7th Legion’s few genuine cavalrymen. The scout I had sent out as a messenger.
He reined in before me and leaped from his horse. His armor was caked in dust, sweat dripping from his brow.
"Reporting!"
"Speak."
"The enemy has begun to move. Around two thousand strong. They’re advancing in three prongs."
Three prongs.
True to the nature of tribal alliances, they couldn’t move as one unified force.
"How many are heading toward the bait unit?"
"Estimated between seven hundred and eight hundred."
I nodded.
I turned my gaze to survey the distance.
There, below us, a wagon train crossed the plain.
Fifty wagons, loaded so full with sacks of grain that they spilled over deliberately. Eye-catching from afar. Tempting.
And the ones escorting those wagons.
The most incompetent.
The ones who had embezzled the most.
The ones who had drawn the most aggro.
Two staff officers. I had even pulled in their entire families to form the escort unit. So they couldn’t run. No, so they wouldn’t even think of running.
"They fell headfirst into such an obvious trap."
Then a low voice came from beside me.
"That’s how many starving men there are."
It was Kuulruk.
The former great warrior, dragged here as a prisoner. Now, with mana-suppressing cuffs on, he served as interpreter and informant. Flanked by two knights watching his every move, of course.
"Winter is growing harsher. There are fewer and fewer places to graze the livestock."
"This winter is especially brutal."
"It’s not just this year. The Ice Dragon has awakened again."
"...Ice Dragon? What’s that..."
"Reporting!"
His words were cut off.
Another messenger was racing in. From the opposite direction this time.
The panting rider arrived and shouted.
"Canyon operation successful! We’ve blocked their retreat with rockfall!"
"Number of isolated enemies?"
"Around five hundred! Out of the seven hundred, two hundred and five hundred got cut off!"
Five hundred isolated out of two thousand.
This wasn’t a two-thousand-versus-two-thousand fight.
It was five hundred versus two thousand. Multiple times over.
A winnable battle.
"We’ll hear about the Ice Dragon later."
I gripped the reins.
I glanced back.
The five hundred cavalry waited. Only fifty were real cavalrymen, the rest just part of the bluff, but in this moment, it didn’t matter.
This was enough to strike the isolated five hundred.
"Let’s go."
A short command.
But it was enough.
The faint sound of hooves reached us.
Hundreds of hooves thundering across the earth. Carried on the wind all the way here.
"It’s begun."
I muttered.
The bait unit’s wagon train came into view. Cavalrymen swarmed it.
Like ants descending on food, they poured in from all sides. Shadows of horses and men tangled in the dust.
Even a rough count showed hundreds at least.
A voice carried from afar.
"Surrender! We surrender!"
It was in Imperial tongue. Clear. Shouted at the top of their lungs, audible even from here.
I didn’t change expression.
I hadn’t expected anything else.
But the staff officers playing bait didn’t know one thing.
Most Kuman tribesmen didn’t speak the Imperial language.
The leadership knew it, sure—some learned from southern prisoner mothers, others from trading with merchants—but they were the minority.
The rank-and-file cavalry, blinded by plunder, wouldn’t know it.
To them, “surrender” was just strange noise.
No, even if they understood. What good is a sheep crying “don’t eat me” before starving wolves?
"It’s over yoo."
Lize’s voice rang out.
I turned.
The silver-haired girl stared into the distance. Her single red eye narrowed.
Though the modification surgery had cost her one eye, the remaining one surpassed human limits. Night vision or long-range sight. She could see the scene below clearly from here.
"The staff officer yoo. Tried to flee and got speared in the back yoo. Fell from his horse yoo. Then his head came off in one swing yoo."
"The other one?"
"Similar yoo. Hid under a wagon but got dragged out yoo. And then..."
Lize mimed slitting her throat.
That was the end.
Two staff officers.
The most eager embezzlers.
The one who called Lize a “ten-year-old girl” and the one nodding along beside him.
Now rolling as corpses somewhere in that dust cloud.
I turned back to the battlefield.
"Turning corrupt, useless trash into something useful like that. Perfect recycling."
"Right yoo."
Lize nodded.
But there was a subtle tremor in her voice.
I felt eyes on me.
I turned.
Kuulruk.
The former great warrior, perched on horseback with mana-suppressing cuffs. A prisoner under watch by knights on either side.
He stared back and forth between me and Lize.
Disgusted eyes.
Wary eyes.
And somewhere... fearful eyes.
Does this guy think I’m a psychopath or something?
"Let me make it clear. Those were embezzlers. They stole rations meant for the soldiers and sold them. Scum like that deserve to die."
"I understand that."
"Then we’re good."
"But you’re only ten, young master. Making a call like that at ten. Using your own men as bait, watching them die without changing a single expression."
This bastard... a flatterer.
"Think what you want."
Then Sir Heinrich rode up.
"Young master."
His voice was still relaxed.
"The bait has served its purpose. The enemy’s main force is lost in the looting."
I nodded.
"Then now..."
"Yes. Our turn. Let’s go crush the isolated five hundred."
I gripped the reins.
I glanced back.
The five hundred cavalry and three times that in infantry waited.
"Hold position for now!"
I didn’t charge immediately.
Two reasons.
First, we had to match the infantry’s pace. Charging ahead with just cavalry would be pointless. Even five hundred strong, we needed infantry support to face the isolated five hundred.
Second, the longer we waited, the better for us.
"How’s the situation?"
"Almost all dismounted yoo."
Lize said, staring into the distance. Her enhanced vision let her see the scene below clearly even from here.
"Down from their horses, rummaging the wagons yoo. Frantic moving grain sacks yoo. Some already loading whole sacks onto the horses yoo."
"Any vigilance?"
"Barely yoo. They’ve all gone mad yoo."
Cavalry blinded by plunder cease to be cavalry.
The moment they dismount, they’re just infantry. Disorderly rabble with no formation or chain of command.
And now their horses carried grain sacks, not men.
To remount, they’d have to ditch the loot.
"More than half off their horses yoo. The rest too busy loading yoo."
I turned.
"Charge!"
Our plan wasn’t over yet.
Its core was none other than Sir Heinrich.
The tactic that shows up endlessly in Romance of the Three Kingdoms and boasts a high success rate in Three Kingdoms games under the premise of good generals...
A duel.
"Disciple of the great Walter von Krushtein! Orc Slayer! Heinrich! Is there no warrior brave enough to cross swords with me!"
His booming voice echoed across the battlefield.
And Kuulruk spoke.
In his equally thunderous voice, translating Sir Heinrich’s challenge verbatim into Kuman.
Long, guttural syllables carried on the wind.
The enemy lines stirred again.
This time, even more.
Murmurs. Hooves scraping. Someone bellowing.
And then.
One rider broke out.
A giant.
Even mounted, he towered over normal men. Shoulders like doorframes, forearms thicker than my thighs.
His face was scarred. A knife slash across the nose. Left ear half severed. A hero of reversals, plain as day.
In his hand, a bloodied battle axe.
Probably used to butcher the bait unit earlier.
He raised the axe and roared.
"I am Batu!"
Kuulruk translated.
"He says his name is Batu."
Batu. Sounds fucking strong.
"What level?"
Lize narrowed her eyes and answered.
"Same class as Kuulruk yoo. Maybe even a bit higher..."
Same as him, or higher?
Tension flickered briefly.
The two riders faced off.
Batu swung his axe.
A heavy whoosh. A mana-charged strike. Enough to cleave a normal knight and horse in two.
Sir Heinrich’s sword moved.
Lightly.
Too lightly.
Clang!
Metal clashed.
Batu’s axe bounced away.
"What?!"
Batu recoiled in shock. His eyes bulged bloodshot.
In that instant, Batu’s body changed.
Crack. Bones grinding. Muscles swelled. Forearms, shoulders, neck. His already massive frame expanded further.
Mana reinforcement.
Pushed to the limit.
"Die!"
Batu roared, axe crashing down.
This was on another level. Air tearing. Ground shaking. Even Sir Heinrich...
My heart sank.
No way.
Is he losing?
Sir Heinrich’s sword moved again.
Just as lightly.
Swish.
The axe missed. No, it was deflected. The sword guided it aside.
And in that split second.
Spurt!
Blood sprayed from Batu’s neck.
Two exchanges.
Batu, mana maxed out. Batu, possibly stronger than Kuulruk. Ended in just two.
Then it hit me.
Sir Heinrich hadn’t used any special techniques.
He didn’t need to.
They weren’t even a match from the start.
Batu tumbled from his horse. His swollen muscles deflated. Eyes still wide in disbelief.
The enemy lines froze.
Eyes on me from the side.
Kuulruk.
He stared between me, Lize, and Sir Heinrich.
"...Terrifying."
A short phrase.
But loaded with complex emotions.
"Save the flattery. Next phase."
I elbowed Kuulruk’s side.
"...Yes."
Kuulruk cleared his throat.
"Those who surrender will be spared!"
His voice boomed across the field.
Kuman’s harsh syllables carried on the wind to the enemy.
The response was lukewarm.
A few loosened their grips on weapons, but most kept wary eyes. Glancing at each other. Who would move first? Who would drop arms first?
No one stepped up.
Of course.
“Spare your lives” was only half a promise to nomads.
Take their horses, and they were dead anyway.
A horseless nomad on the plains was like a man without water in the desert. Couldn’t walk back to the tribe, and even if they did, no horse meant no livelihood.
Sparing lives but taking horses was just slow death.
I elbowed Kuulruk’s side again.
"Add this."
I whispered a few words.
Kuulruk’s eyes widened.