Chapter 25
Episode 25
"It'll be over soon."
Haman Tesron smiled as he watched the battlefield unfold exactly as he had anticipated.
The overwhelming difference in numbers, combined with meticulously prepared tactics, was playing out perfectly.
The crowning jewel of it all was undoubtedly High Knight Raul, who had successfully intercepted Patrick MacLaine.
'Keeping his existence secret was the right call.'
The presence—or absence—of high knights was the primary distinction between mid-tier and high-tier knight orders.
In this era, a noble's military strength was judged by the number and rank of their knights.
The existence of a high knight was directly tied to a noble's prestige, so most lords would boast about them rather than conceal them.
'But for a purpose like this, secrecy serves better.'
He watched with satisfaction as the knights relentlessly pushed Patrick MacLaine back.
Then, as the infantry's encirclement took shape and the cavalry began flanking the enemy, he clenched his fist in triumph.
Moreover, the enemy infantry was completely pinned down by his own archers' suppression fire.
"It's over!"
Haman Tesron was certain of victory.
'Now, all that's left is to crush Patrick and conquer MacLaine Castle. And once that's done... Heh, nothing else will matter.'
Just as he was indulging in pleasant thoughts—
A strange noise erupted from the rear.
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
"Cavalry spotted in the rear! Approximately three hundred mounted troops!"
"Cavalry? Did the MacLaines have more elites in reserve?"
It was a natural assumption for a lord to make.
In this era, cavalrymen were high-tier troops, typically composed of soldiers who also trained as knights.
Aside from knight orders and the even rarer mages, they were the most elite forces available.
But—
"They're not in plate armor! No lances either! Just leather armor, armed with small crossbows, and carrying wooden crates! They don't look like MacLaine's regular forces."
"Crossbows?"
Those things hunters used?
At that single word, the count chuckled and dismissed his tension.
"Order some of the rear troops and the archers to intercept them. They're just rabble, not elite soldiers."
He gave a commonsense command, and his adjutant accepted it just as matter-of-factly.
But moments later, the count witnessed his common sense shatter before his eyes.
Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwack!
"AAAAAGH!"
Screams erupted from the rear as dozens—no, hundreds—of soldiers collapsed like wheat before a scythe.
"What the hell is that?! Damn it! Stop them! Stop them now!"
The battle, which he had believed was already decided, was spiraling in an unexpected direction.
The mercenary band charged forward like a storm, unimpeded.
They could see the enemy scrambling to react, but the distance was already closing fast.
'I'll slaughter you all, you bastards.'
The gap between the mercenaries and the enemy's rear was roughly 400 meters.
For conventional longbows, even at the optimal firing angle, that distance was impossible to reach.
But Logan's command brooked no hesitation.
"Ready!"
Click-click-click.
The entire mercenary band moved as one, leveling their weapons at the enemy.
"Fire!"
Logan's crossbow bolt shot first, gleaming faintly with golden light as it punched through the skull of a soldier at the very back.
What followed was a storm—hundreds of bolts raining down, turning Tesron's soldiers into pincushions.
"AAAAAH!"
"W-what?!"
"What just hit us?!"
"From that distance?!"
Something unseen tore through their comrades' bodies indiscriminately.
The faces of those who miraculously survived turned deathly pale.
"M-magic!"
Someone's panicked shout only deepened the chaos in Tesron's rear lines.
"The rear! Mages are ambushing us!"
It was a ludicrous misconception, but the enemy's movements only reinforced it.
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
"Flank formation!"
Neigh!
The mercenaries, who had been charging straight for the rear, abruptly pivoted at a sharp angle, veering northward.
"Archers first!"
At Logan's roar, the mercenaries swung their crossbows to the left.
Click.
314 repeating crossbows locked onto their targets in unison.
"Kill them all!"
Suppressed fury erupted like lava, and the bolts, infused with that rage, poured down like the Reaper's rain, ravaging the enemy.
Thwip-thwip-thwack!
"AAAAAGH!"
"Arrows! Arrows!"
"Return fire! Return fire!"
"Shoot!"
Frantic orders rang out as longbowmen loosed arrows into the sky, but their shots—aimed haphazardly—landed uselessly where no one stood.
Even if they had aimed properly, it wouldn't have mattered.
Logan's mercenaries maintained a distance of over 300 meters—far beyond the range of any bow, no matter how skilled the archer.
And all the while, their relentless volleys were mowing down the enemy's rear ranks like stalks of wheat.
'Good. Just as planned!'
From an untouchable distance, the mercenaries poured down one-sided destruction.
An overwhelming new weapon was dominating the battlefield exactly as intended.
Tesron's rear troops, unable to even see their attackers, panicked and scattered in all directions.
The archers, attempting futile counterattacks, were swiftly annihilated under concentrated fire.
'I endured until now to create this moment. So now... I'll slaughter every last one of you.'
With a bloodthirsty grin, Logan roared again.
"Reverse!"
"Reverse!"
Following Logan's lead, Kai echoed the command, and the mercenaries smoothly pivoted rightward, shifting their charge from north to south.
Maintaining maximum speed with minimal turning radius, Logan led the charge diagonally across the battlefield.
Now, aligned in a single file once more—just with a different heading—the mercenaries prepared again.
"Ready! Fire!"
At the signal, another storm of bolts erupted.
"AAAAAGH!"
"Counter! Counterattack! Shoot back!"
"They're too far!"
"What the hell are they?!"
"How is this possible?!"
It was utter helplessness. From their perspective, there was no way to stop a cavalry unit that remained perpetually out of bow range.
With each concentrated volley, another hundred men fell, and Logan's mercenaries unleashed three or four barrages in a single charge.
They carved a figure-eight across the enemy's rear, raining death with every pass.
Thanks to Kai's training, they maintained the perfect distance—close enough to kill, far enough to remain untouched.
"Run!"
"Where?!"
"F-forward!"
"Are you insane?! That's the battlefield ahead!"
No amount of training could prepare them for being slaughtered without even engaging.
Deserters began fleeing from the very rear, collapsing the formation, and soon, panic spread like wildfire through the ranks.
Even those unaware of the cause were swept up in the rout.
The effect was immediate.
"Cavalry! Turn the cavalry around! Stop them!"
If they didn't stop those bastards, it was over.
Clutching at his sanity like a drowning man, Haman Tesron screamed orders.
No matter how dire the situation, he couldn't pull his knights away—
A battle between Force users could end in an instant if one showed the slightest opening.
So the best option now was to recall the cavalry attacking MacLaine's rear.
His adjutant frantically waved signal flags, and soon, the cavalry broke formation, wheeling around to intercept.
"We must—we must finish them off!"
The adjutant, unable to convey such detailed orders via flags, simply nodded and waved them even more desperately.
He could only hope the urgency got across.
And in terms of speed, at least, their cavalry lived up to expectations.
"Charge!"
Thud thud thud thud thud.
The Tesron cavalry rushed forward like the wind.
Their gleaming armor was uniformly ornate, but being thinner and lighter than knight's plate, it offered inferior protection.
Yet precisely because it placed less burden on their mounts, it was the optimal equipment for cavalry shock troops.
And now, the Tesron cavalry was demonstrating the full advantage of this lightweight gear.
The time it took for them to circle the battlefield from slaughtering infantry at MacLaine's rearmost lines to charging Logan's mercenary band was barely ten minutes.
Such was their agility.
Yet Logan didn't so much as blink as nearly a thousand Tesron cavalrymen hurtled toward them at terrifying speed.
Instead, he welcomed the enemy with a bloodthirsty smile.
"How kind of you to come to us."
Crunch.
Logan ground his teeth as he watched his primary targets willingly charging into their own graves.
He'd waited patiently for them to distance themselves, fearing those silver-winged pests might cling to them before the rear lines were fully broken.
How many of his people had died in that interval?
Logan was ready to unleash that accumulated fury upon them tenfold.
"Now, advance! Flanking maneuver!"
"Flanking maneuver!"
As the order echoed, the mercenary band pivoted as one.
Assuming formation to charge the battlefield, they instead wheeled around the center, forming a horizontal line as their crossbows leveled at the approaching cavalry.
The moment they saw this, the charging horsemen uniformly raised shields from their saddles.
'Shields...'
The conventional tactic against cavalry was deploying archers.
And the standard equipment against such archers were these kite shields large enough to cover half a man's torso when strapped to the forearm.
As the cavalry tilted their shields forward and slightly hunched, they achieved a defensive posture where frontal shots would find no clean angles.
Yet Logan remained utterly composed at the sight.
'Just as expected...'
Logan grinned savagely and shouted to his mercenaries:
"Aim slightly downward!"
"Downward!"
"Target the horses!"
Though momentarily confused, the mercenaries instantly grasped his intent upon hearing the order and mirrored Logan's cruel smile.
"Loose!"
At Logan's mocking command, the crossbows fired simultaneously.
Whiiish!
A single volley sent dozens of lead cavalrymen tumbling from their saddles.
"Gyaaah!"
Horses and riders behind them tripped over the fallen, catapulting through the air.
"Ugh...!"
Their shields might have been sturdy enough to block crossbow bolts, but they couldn't protect the horses simultaneously.
And when non-Aura soldiers fell from galloping horses, the outcome was inevitable.
Crunch.
Necks snapped on impact.
Splat!
Or they were trampled mercilessly under the hooves of following cavalry.
Watching the carnage he'd orchestrated, Logan smiled coldly.
"Morons."
Archers facing cavalry typically chose arcing shots to maximize range.
At the standard longbow's effective direct-fire range of 100 meters, cavalry would annihilate archers before they could properly aim, hence the preference for long-distance volleys.
Naturally, cavalry tactics evolved to counter this - raising shields diagonally overhead to block plunging arrows, protecting both rider and mount simultaneously.
They'd never have imagined arrows that could strike accurately with direct fire from over 300 meters.
But Logan owed them no consideration.
"Keep firing! Pick off any who try to rise after falling!"
Some particularly tough ones managed to stagger up even after being trampled by comrades.
For their tenacity, they earned another hail of bolts.
"AAARGH!"
As the lead hundred cavalrymen fell simultaneously, and successive volleys shattered the rear formations, the remaining soldiers lost all cohesion.
Their command must have been at the front, as the charging direction became completely disorganized.
"Flanking charge!"
Logan's horse wheeled sharply to intercept them at a right angle, three hundred mercenaries following seamlessly.
"Protect the horses!"
"Shield the mounts!"
The Tesron cavalry, their new leaders barely restoring order, charged straight at Logan's band again.
At a similar distance as before, the horsemen now uniformly ducked, angling shields to protect both their heads and their mounts' while preserving the horses' vision.
It demonstrated their excellent training.
Yet Logan ordered without hesitation:
"Loose!"
Whiiish!
"GYAAH!"
Despite the cavalry's adjustments, the same carnage repeated.
Shields sized to cover a man's torso barely protected the horses' heads.
The inevitable gaps were ruthlessly exploited by the mercenaries' bolts.
With formations broken and spacing widened, nearly two hundred horses fell this time, followed by similar numbers of riders tripping over them.
The mercenaries' assault didn't relent - bolts poured forth endlessly.
'At this rate we'll all die.'
The surviving cavalrymen's faces darkened rapidly.
Half their forces had vanished in the brief charge.
As comrades kept dying absurdly, fear began outweighing rage.
But turning back was impossible now.
The remaining cavalry gritted their teeth and charged again, only for—
"Ready! Loose!"
—the mercenaries' crossbows to unleash another lightning volley with astonishing rapidity.
"KAAAH!"
This attack reduced Tesron's cavalry to fewer than the mercenary band.
From then, the mercenaries ignored fallen riders, focusing solely on remaining horses.
The survivors finally broke off their charge, staring hollowly at their tormentors.
The Tesron cavalry was already shattered.
They who had swept across the battlefield like the wind now dissipated just as ephemerally.
Some, however, remained unsatisfied.
"Sir Logan! Those who keep rising after falling are quite strong. Leaving them—"
"Leave them! Every moment counts to save more of my soldiers, my people!"
Logan's resolve was absolute.
"W-what is this?! What are these bastards?!"
The Count's furious shout went unanswered.
Everyone present felt the chilling shift in the battlefield's atmosphere.
But its architect struggled to accept reality.
"Our rear is breached!"
"Soldiers are routing!"
"At this rate even our knights—"
"Silence!"
Knights couldn't possibly fall to mere crossbows.
Haman Tesron was certain of that.
"Recall the knights! The enemy knights aren't the problem—we must eliminate those others!"
The order came too late. Even if delivered, the enemy knights wouldn't obligingly disengage.
As his adjutant weakly raised the signal flags to convey this near-suicidal order—
"T-they're moving toward us!"
"What?!"
The adjutant's near-scream sent the Count's mind spiraling into panic.
'Deploy the knights to... No, if I'm endangered first...'
After brief hesitation, the Count chose the strategically worst option.
"Lower the banners! Hide among the troops. Secure our retreat!"
His survival meant hope remained.
He was Tesron incarnate.
Even as he effectively abandoned the battle, Haman Tesron busied himself with self-justification.
From that moment, the Tesron camp collapsed irrecoverably.