Chapter 104
Chapter 104
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: Maxburg Reeducation (7)
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"Reverse! Turn around!"
"Halberds forward! Pikemen, fall back five paces and lower your spears!!"
"Damn it!! A reversal here? Turning back in this situation!!"
The soldiers grumbled but swiftly obeyed my orders, wheeling around to form a defensive square.
As soon as the formation took shape, the enemy soldiers began to panic.
"Huh? Hey!! Weren't those guys retreating? Why'd they suddenly turn like that?"
"Hey, shouldn't we turn back around?"
"Too late!!"
Toward the flustered soldiers, the enemy officers in armor started shouting.
"Halt! Halt and form up!!"
"If you don't form ranks, you'll all die here!"
"Form up! Make a defensive square!!!"
Our quick response to their formation was good, but the front-runners who'd been chasing us were already getting massacred by the first and second ranks of our square.
The elite troops with high skill levels tried to react even in this chaos, but they were impaled on spears or crushed by the serfs surging from behind. The rabble made of serfs shattered against the wall our soldiers had formed, like eggs hurled at a fortress.
Riding this momentum, I issued the order to annihilate the enemy.
"The whole army, advance! Move forward slowly while maintaining the square! Stay in sync with the soldiers beside you!"
At that command, the soldiers advanced toward the enemy like a mountain moving in utter silence, excruciatingly slow.
In response, the mercenaries and elite units held their formation and counterattacked, but gaps began opening in the lines made of inexperienced serfs.
"Now's the time—pour into the enemy's gaps!!"
"Get into the gaps and kill their officers! Kill an officer, and promotion and rewards await!"
"Whole army, charge for glory!!"
Just pushing like this would secure victory on the left wing under my command.
But if we did, the enemy would regroup by any means and retreat to another position.
That would force us into tedious sieges to take the barons', count's, and duke's castles.
Worst case, reinforcements might come to rescue the House of Maxburg.
Of course, the Imperial Council would oppose it, so the emperor wouldn't lead a hundred thousand troops himself, but the Elector of Rants next door could bring tens of thousands to their aid.
If that happened, no matter how superior our troops were individually, we'd be overwhelmed by numbers and defeated, as the saying goes.
So we had to end the war before reinforcements arrived.
"Runner!! Any runners?"
At my call, an ensign with his rank insignia appeared before me.
"Detach one battalion. Have its soldiers relay this to all battalion commanders under me: Even if the enemy's square collapses, don't advance more than four hundred meters from your current position. Go now—run!"
The ensign repeated my order, then dashed off as fast as he could to the nearby reserve battalion commander.
"Orders from His Excellency the Count! Mobilize this battalion's companies to relay the command! The order is: Even if their square collapses, do not advance more than four hundred meters from your current position!!"
"Got it, Captain Falken! Captain Salute, Captain Galeas, Captain Jack! Relay the same to your companies and move out by platoons! Hurry!!!"
"Yes, sir. Pull the fastest runners and send them to the left and right wings of the central army!!"
About thirty minutes later, our soldiers halted their fierce pursuit.
At the same time, the enemy had apparently sorted their disordered lines; unlike before, they now countered our attacks with some solidity.
"Argh, die!!"
"Go suck your mama's tit some more before coming back!!"
"Stand your ground, you bastard!!"
"If you're mercenaries, go home like mercenaries!"
As I ordered the advance to stop, fierce close-quarters fighting broke out.
In the deadlock where neither side could budge an inch despite shoving, I deliberately preserved as many reserves as possible to maintain this stalemate.
Thanks to that, the enemy seemed to have used up nearly all their reserves, while we had barely touched a fifth of ours.
In other words, the frontline troops were exhausted...
Time to rotate them out with fresh units.
"Relay to the whole army: Frontline units, fall back behind your supports, and the units behind them advance to the front! Leave the dead; recover the wounded as best you can."
"Recover the wounded and rotate the frontline with the support unit!!"
With that, the frontline began swapping with the unit behind them.
I worried the enemy might exploit the gap to attack, but they too seemed intent on reorganizing their own disrupted lines from chasing us, so they held back.
Thanks to that, we completed the rotation without major losses.
The fresh unit quickly lowered their spears, and the enemy matched us, lowering their weapons to reform their square.
Our soldiers and theirs thrust to kill each other; for every four of theirs that fell, we lost one.
The battle intensified, and as the pike movements grew disordered, company commanders issued orders.
"Shock troops, forward!"
"Shock troops, prepare to charge! Two-handers, cut their pike shafts; halberdiers, support!"
"Dagger men, advance first in prone position!"
At that, men in hardened leather armor gripped daggers in one hand and crawled toward the enemy.
They slithered like snakes, targeting ankles and knees.
After crawling for about ten minutes to reach the enemies' ankles, they cautiously raised their daggers and stabbed down.
The struck soldiers wailed, blood gushing.
"Mama!!!!"
"My ankle... no strength in my ankle anymore... Argh..."
As the frontline dropped their pikes, plate-armored halberdiers and two-handers followed up.
The two-handers slipped into gaps to sever pike shafts, while halberdiers punched holes in the heads of soldiers cowering behind.
The pikemen enveloped the remaining enemy square in a crescent, wiping them out.
At this point, one might expect retreat, but they held as if it wasn't time yet.
That's when I felt certain: the enemy's main force, their knights, would circle to our infantry's rear.
And sure enough, a scout appeared to confirm it.
"Reporting to Your Excellency the Count. The Duke of Maxburg's knights and cavalry are making a wide detour to our rear!"
"How many!!"
"Four thousand! And leading them seems to be Count Willemheim, the Duke of Maxburg's prime minister!"
"How long until they arrive?"
"About twenty minutes, and we'll see their forces."
"Understood. Dismissed."
The scout returned to his duties.
Let's see—the Maxburgs mobilized about forty to fifty thousand troops...
Four thousand knights means they're committing every available knight to kill me.
Normally, I'd have ordered retreat upon exposing my rear, admitting defeat. But for this operation, we needed to bare our backs to the enemy.
Everything was going as planned. I ordered the runner:
"Tell Colonel Bierman, who's commanding the knights in the rear: Have the reserves raise their banners and weapons. They're to go put down the knights falling into confusion."
**
"Colonel Bierman, sir, when the hell is our turn? Even if we're the rearguard, isn't the battle basically over now?"
I, Bierman, thought the same, but His Excellency's orders were clear: hold position until further instructions.
So we couldn't move even if we wanted to.
"Colonel Bierman, sir! Our men are dying up front, and there's no attack from behind. Ask His Excellency to let a third—no, a quarter of us go support them!"
"Major Miller! Calm down!! His Excellency said not to commit unless the whole army is collapsing! Disobeying is breaking military law."
"Colonel, sir!!"
"Just wait a bit! A little longer... Even if you can't believe me, trust His Excellency, who's won every battle so far."
Major Miller bit his lip but relented.
"Yes, sir."
As Major Miller returned to his post, I caressed the firebombs filled with oil that His Excellency had given us.
He'd handed them to the knights, saying:
"Honorable knights of Kroitel, trust me. Hold your ground to the end, then unleash everything in the decisive moment."
Even so, from their perspective, it must burn them up inside.
Because their own sons were fighting alongside the infantry right now, shedding blood together.
Especially for men like Miller, who'd sent all his sons—legitimate and bastards alike—into the ranks, figuring infantry had better promotion prospects than knights.
After about thirty minutes, the runner we'd been waiting for finally arrived.
"Colonel Bierman, sir! Orders from His Excellency the Count!!!"
...Finally, the reserves' time had come.
"His Excellency commands: Raise banners and weapons, and subdue the knights chasing our rear!"
His Excellency's prediction was spot on. To reverse their disadvantage in the infantry fight, the Maxburgs had sent their knights.
Our turn at last.
I raised a hand to stop the runner and slipped a gold coin into his palm.
"Payment for bringing word we can earn merits. Relay that to His Excellency too."
"Yes, sir."
I donned the helmet from my side, drew my sword, and declared:
"His Excellency's orders. Enemy knights will soon strike our army's rear. Time to show those backstabbers the taste of His Excellency's fire! Whole unit, grab your gear and move to assigned positions!!"
"Hooray!!!"
"Long live Deus! Long live the Elrain Empire! Long live His Excellency Kroitel!!"
"Lemme try on that lieutenant colonel rank!!"
"Alright, let's go!!"
By the time we reached our positions, a man with his ear to the ground spoke up.
"Enemy knights incoming. Too far for an exact count, but thousands of them charging."
Two conflicting emotions surged in me.
Fear and dread at facing mounted knights on foot, and gratitude to His Excellency for entrusting us with this impossible task.
In my fifty years, who'd have thought I'd feel terror and thanks at once? Life throws every weird thing at you eventually.
Maybe after passing the title to my eldest, I retire under Viscount—er, Count—His Excellency...
No more deployments like this, but I could tag along occasionally for fishing or hunting.
Shaking off the thought, I ordered the knights:
"Whole unit, frontline knights, plant pavises in front! Second, third, and fourth ranks, ready to hurl firebombs on my signal!"
The knights planted their shields and prepared the firebombs.
Moments later, thunderous hooves announced the enemy knights' arrival.
A rough count: four thousand. Impossible on foot.
They whistled and jeered.
"Those bastards dismounted—knights or not!"
"Each one's worth thirty to forty gold! Jackpot!"
"Whole unit, pick up the pace!!!"
With that, the enemy knights accelerated toward us.
Three hundred meters to collision, two-fifty, two hundred... one-seventy...
When their lead ranks hit about a hundred fifty by eye, the banneret knights ordered:
"Attach firebombs to javelins! Slot into atlatls!!"
The soldiers fused firebombs with fuses to javelins.
I gave the signal.
Our knights hurled flaming firebombs at the enemy, then prayed.
Grant us the power to punish those dishonorable duke's knights.