Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Pig Hunt (7)
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But I, Siel von Kroitel, need to corner them for the most economical and efficient victory possible.
Why? Because my victory so far only amounts to annihilating roughly 10% of the enemy army—the knights—while their infantry remains largely intact.
Right now, the enemy infantry has taken the bait scattered by Chris and is advancing more slowly. Reports say they're still locked in fierce combat with our other troops, but...
However, the information from the couriers isn't real-time like in modern Korea. It depends on how fast and how far they have to ride...
The precise state of the battle remains shrouded in a fog of war—the lack of information that's so aptly depicted as the 'fog of war' in games like StarCraft—leaving us blind to the full picture.
Even so, having triumphed over knights numbering around two thousand with our own forces of similar size... I could claim the war is effectively over, just as I thought moments ago.
But if even 10% of these knights escape unscathed, tomorrow the enemy will reorganize around their infantry, leveraging their numerical superiority to attack us again—or retreat to their castles and dig in for a defensive war.
That would mean losing more future serfs and citizens, skyrocketing war costs, and spilling far more blood from the soldiers who fought for me.
In the war council, I pushed the knights so hard they couldn't even suggest otherwise, leading to the rout of Count Nant's knights... but 60-80% of them are likely still alive.
So, to spare even one of my own men, I must slaughter the enemy like a blood-mad Asura, like a crazed murderer...
"Courier! Is there a courier?!"
At my shout, one of the soldiers holding a pike stepped forward.
"Corporal Meints!"
"You—relay this to your platoon leader immediately: 'Spread false rumors to all company commanders on the opposite flank that 1,600 knights were utterly routed by just 2,000 infantry! And that Schwein has been captured!'"
"Yes, sir!"
Corporal Meints bolted off as if his feet were on fire.
Our soldiers swiftly filled the gap left by his platoon's departure.
I'd ordered the training myself, but to move this fast...
Soon after, the enemy knights began pulling away from our unit.
Seeing this, the soldiers lowered their pikes and collapsed to rest.
"Hah, thought I was a goner!"
"Heard from Sergeant Major Short in the intel unit yesterday—the enemy had 1,600 knights..."
"No shit... That explains why there were so damn many! Thought we were toast!"
"But hey, I nabbed two knights myself! If I play it right, I'll make sergeant! Then I'll confess to Leila! S-Sergeant pays better than a village headman, right?"
"Keep dreaming, idiot. In your village, a girl like Leila could be His Excellency's concubine! She's famous for her looks! Bet she's married already!"
"Hey! Shh!!! Don't jinx it!!"
Any decent commander would grant these men a breather after such results, but we can't afford less than total victory right now.
And our unit can still fight.
So, to boost morale and order another charge, I approached them.
"You men?"
As I drew near and spoke, the soldiers—who'd been talking about that Leila girl—snapped to attention and barked their ranks and names.
"Corporal Mantz!"
"Private First Class Sendel!"
"Sergeant Oink!"
I waved them down to calm them.
"No matter how pretty this Leila is, who said they'd confess to her?"
The one who'd called himself Private First Class Sendel shyly raised his hand.
"You? They say she's pretty enough I'd want her as a concubine myself. How pretty is she?"
"She's gorgeous, sir! Eyes big like cherries, lips red like roses—adorable! I want to marry her! That's why I joined the army—to make something of myself and confess!!"
Guy talks like that, and in movies or anime, he'd die mid-war. But this is reality... he won't drop dead just for saying it, right?
I clapped Sendel on the shoulder.
"Squeezing with Ella at night is plenty for me. Don't need another concubine. Besides, I'm not even married yet! You're a bachelor just like me!"
Looking around after that...
The soldiers froze, mouths agape, watching a baron—a noble of baronial rank—joke like old pals with a lowly serf-born private.
They just gawked, eyes darting between me and Sendel.
"Alright, Private Sendel. Rack up merits and survive. Promote to sergeant—marriage restrictions lift then, right?"
"Yes, sir!!"
"Succeed after this war, and I swear on my name—I'll attend your wedding. We'll throw it grandly at the castle. I want to see this girl who'll make my head spin!"
At those words, Private Sendel and the surrounding soldiers teared up, overwhelmed by the grace of their esteemed Baron that transcended all norms.
This level of encouragement would make them follow even harsher orders willingly now. I was sure of it.
So I snatched my banner from Sergeant Randel.
"My proud soldiers—with families to protect, lovers waiting! Want to return home, rest in your villages?! Follow me! The enemy is still before us! If they hole up in their castles, our homecoming delays! Tired? Grip your spears and follow! I'm with you!"
With that, I forced strength into my weary legs and charged ahead in my iron plate armor.
Glancing back moments later, the exhaustion—the life-or-death strain from moments ago—was gone from the soldiers.
Their eyes held only conviction: with their revered Baron, brighter days awaited in their lives.
After 500 meters, I waved the banner to halt them and form square formation.
They snapped into position flawlessly, cutting off the enemy rear completely.
Soon after, the enemy knights charged to clash with our cavalry.
We held lances, but outnumbered, our line was thin in depth to match their width.
They formed nine or ten ranks deep; we managed barely three.
Yet the death rattles came louder...
"Kroitel!!"
"Impossible..."
"Siel!! You dog worse than a cur!!"
"For the Baron..."
From their side.
Kroitel's knights, sans lances, couldn't face the horde and swiftly withdrew.
"Soldiers! Follow me! Your honor and wealth lie with those knights ahead! Drag the arrogant knights of Nant from their horses!"
I broke formation, banner high, charging with the infantry to pursue.
Even disorganized, our foot soldiers could crush these battered knights.
Formation shattered, but training hammered home coordination: they linked in 'two pikes, one halberd' ratios against mounted foes.
Two pikes pinned the knights and stabbed horses, then the halberdier smashed helmets to stun before daggering under helms or inside.
The battlefield turned to hell.
"Aaaagh! My eyes!!"
"Lie still and it's quick, sir."
"Filthy rabble—how dare you!! Have you no qualms killing nobles?!"
"To us, nobles are His Excellency and his followers. The rest? Walking gold mines!"
"Heh heh heh, kill you and I'll buy Maria a dress..."
"You mad bastard!! Get away!! Get off!!"
"Ten gold coins per knight head! Ten kills buys a house in Kroitel Castle!"
"I surrender!!! Please, sir—spare me! I don't want to die for that fool!!"
Knight blood pooled, then trickled like streams.
As my men butchered the 'noble lords,' 3,000 more troops arrived to share despair and death.
Distant now, only my banner's crest visible—but their join would spark a massacre.
Someone might call the prior fight a 'massacre,' but as a historian, strictly: if foes can resist even slightly, it's no massacre.
This war's goal is total neutralization of Count Nant's house—not slaughter.
So, for these poor young knights, I'd grant one last mercy.
"All of you—if you value your lives, surrender. Don't throw them away in this dishonorable defeat. If willing, drop your weapons."
Then, I leveled my banner one-handed at the tallest knight, seemingly broken of will.
"Do that, and you avoid a dog's death. Return to your families. Or fight me?"
"But... I'm a knight. A knight must fight traitors like you..."
His words rang hollow—voice trembling, eyes averted.
Spirit crushed, yet clinging to honor for a final stand...
In other words, break his war resolve, and most under him would yield.
Competent or honest subordinate under an incompetent boss... Pity to waste such talent.
To swallow Nant, I need a show of absorbing knights like him...
"Surrender—for your vassals, your serfs. What becomes of them if you die?"
"We beg your mercy! They serve me by the Count's grace. To repay it, I die here!"
...Truly a shame to kill. Knights like this must be well-regarded locally...
Could be useful.
"Just surrender. The war's over. Refuse, and I slaughter the rest. I make this offer because knights like you still hold honor."
The veteran knight faced me with sword drawn, sighed, then dropped it to the ground.
Surrender signaled.
Seizing the moment, I raised my hand.
"Men! We're done! Victory!"