Chapter 43: Entering the Fray (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43: Entering the Fray (1)
Creeeak.
Thud!
The castle gates swung open.
Charging through the thick clouds of rising dust, the soldiers of Lawrence rushed forward.
"Charge!"
"Aaargh!"
There were hundreds of them.
But their faces were painted with fear.
Above the castle walls, the flames of the Flares blazed. Right before them, countless enemy troops surged toward the gates. Calling the Lawrence forces 'soldiers' was a stretch; they were a ragtag militia that had never received proper formal training. But knowing that Lawrence would fall if they retreated, they gritted their teeth and crashed headlong into the enemy.
"Die!"
Thwack!
"Urgh."
The two armies collided.
The soldiers pushed to the absolute front lines instantly became entangled in a bloody melee. A Lawrence soldier thrust his spear with all his might, catching a Barco soldier who convulsed, foaming blood from his mouth. But his joy of victory didn't last long. As the Lawrence soldier tried to yank his weapon free to find another target, a blade flew in from his blind spot and severed his head.
Slash!
Thud.
Roll.
The battle had truly begun.
A chaotic slaughter ensued. Men butchered one another, their severed heads hitting the dirt with faces frozen in disbelief at their sudden deaths.
In the early stages of the clash, Lawrence actually held the upper hand.
Supported by the arrows raining down from the castle walls, they fiercely pushed back Barco's forces.
Thud!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Barco's soldiers collapsed under the barrage.
Stepping over their corpses, a Lawrence knight in silver armor gleaming under the sunlight slaughtered the enemies before him. Blood sprayed like a fountain. In an instant, bodies piled up like mountains. Following the knight's lead, the Lawrence soldiers penetrated deep into the enemy lines.
At that moment, they actually believed they had a chance of winning. Seeing the enemy fall so easily to their weapons, they thought Barco's forces were nothing special.
However, that was merely an illusion.
Though Barco was initially flustered by the unexpected counterattack, the tide began to turn as time ticked on.
"Running amok without knowing your place."
"Where do you think you're going, you bastard!"
Slash!
Spurt!
Among the sea of soldiers, one specific group was carrying out a one-sided massacre.
They were none other than the Berge Mercenary Group.
Veterans who made a living out of combat, their presence stood out starkly against the ordinary conscripts. Even in this chaotic melee where it was impossible to grasp the full battlefield, they flawlessly supported one another while butchering Lawrence's soldiers. Their counteroffensive rapidly widened the gap in skill.
Even the knights were helpless against them. A knight's presence on the battlefield only became absolute once they could perfectly manipulate Aura. The Lawrence knight who had been fighting at the very front swung his sword frantically under the mercenaries' coordinated assault, only to be battered from all sides.
Stab! Stab!
"Aaargh!"
Blades pierced through his flesh.
Screaming miserably, the knight collapsed.
It was from that moment on.
The momentum completely shifted.
Lawrence had also reinforced their numbers by hiring mercenaries, but they failed to show any notable performance compared to the Berge Mercenary Group. From that point on, they could no longer advance. Though they had pushed a mere fifty meters from the castle walls, the Lawrence soldiers had entirely lost their momentum. Now, they could only struggle desperately to survive, their faces pale with panic.
One by one, men died.
Fear spread like wildfire. Watching his friend and comrade die right before his eyes, one soldier was consumed by terror.
"W-we're finished! There's no way we can win!"
The disparity in strength was far greater than they had ever imagined.
The soldiers shrank back.
Facing a pack of ferocious beasts, the ragtag militia could no longer maintain their resolve to fight to the death.
An unexpected variable had occurred.
Lawrence—they couldn't even play the role of a decoy properly.
Thwip!
She released an arrow.
Though her arms trembled violently from repeating the action countless times, Flora nocked her next arrow with a face full of venom.
It was then.
The soldiers screamed.
Those who were supposed to buy time were already retreating helplessly, crumbling like sand swept away by an incoming tide.
They can't be pushed back already.
Her heart sank.
Roman's plan was a diversionary tactic.
If the Lawrence soldiers opened the gates and launched a counterattack, Barco would naturally see it as a golden opportunity and concentrate their forces at the front. That was the opening Roman had spoken of. With the battle raging in front of the gates, Barco's rear would be lightly guarded, and Roman intended to seize that exact timing to destroy the Flares.
The Flares were incredibly expensive siege equipment.
Since they were not something that could be easily replaced, destroying them would allow Lawrence to secure a massive advantage in defending the castle.
Therefore...
"Do not retreat! Hold your ground to the very end!" Flora screamed desperately.
Not yet.
The enemy had not committed enough of their forces to the front.
A large number of troops still remained in Barco's rear. At this rate, Roman's plan couldn't even be attempted. Yet, despite Flora's cries, the Lawrence soldiers could not hold out. They had already lost their will to fight, and the sheer momentum of Barco's relentless onslaught was not something that could be stopped by willpower alone.
It was over.
Flora had stayed up all night studying military strategy, but she was now facing a bloody reality that books had never taught her.
We should have known our own level. Unlike Barco, who are plunderers, we were never prepared for war.
The people of Lawrence.
They were herbivores.
They had lived peaceful lives off the wealth generated by their fertile lands, but they had put little effort into defending it. That was where the problem lay. Barco had nothing, but they were a militant force that fought constantly to plunder and survive. From their perspective, Lawrence was incredibly easy prey.
The outcome of the battle was obvious.
Seeing two Lawrence soldiers struggle to deal with a single Barco soldier made Flora dizzy.
We have no chance of winning.
Roman Dmitry—he wouldn't show up.
It might have been different if Lawrence had played the role of a decoy as planned, but now, there was absolutely no reason for him to make a move. It would only be a meaningless sacrifice.
In that case, Lawrence's choice to sally forth had become a self-destructive move.
Had they held out behind the castle walls, they might have lasted another day or two. But because they had opened the gates and marched out, there was no way to stop Barco's forces from breaching them now. What on earth should she do? Her logic sent countless messages telling her to just give up, but Flora's mental strength, which had grown resilient over the past few days, desperately searched for an answer.
Thud!
An arrow sliced through the wind.
She fought on desperately.
Even if the castle fell and was conquered, Flora had no intention of surrendering to the enemy and begging for her life. Just as she had told her maid, rather than degrading herself by becoming the concubine of a piece of trash like Antony Barco, Flora would choose to die right here.
It was then.
"...?!"
In the distance, a group of people appeared.
Their target was clear.
The Flares.
They were rushing straight toward the siege weapons.
*
Ten minutes ago.
Roman's soldiers waited for their orders with tense faces.
"Whew."
They couldn't help but be nervous about this plan.
When they had applied to be private soldiers, they never expected to go into battle so soon, let alone participate in a crazy operation to strike Barco's rear. The time to risk their lives had come far too quickly. Unlike Chris and Kevin, who accepted reality calmly, the soldiers who had only recently decided to follow Roman showed clear signs of anxiety.
Their feelings—he understood them.
However, Roman did not believe he needed to show them any consideration beyond mere understanding.
From now on, this is a reality they must face themselves. If they survive as my soldiers, I will grant them the life of a predator, just as I promised at the beginning. But in the end, survival is a matter of their own strength, not mine.
For the past ten days, Roman's soldiers had undergone rigorous training.
Though they had trained hard in their own way under Chris's harsh whipping, that bare minimum was far from enough to satisfy Roman. He ignored the soldiers' emotions. Now was not the time for empathy.
Ahead of the operation, Roman spoke.
"As explained initially, the primary objective of this operation is to attack Barco's rear and destroy their siege weapons. Lawrence will likely fail to play the role of a decoy properly. The disparity in strength between Lawrence and Barco is extreme, meaning a significant force will remain in Barco's rear."
This variable regarding Lawrence was entirely expected.
Roman had never placed high expectations on them; the worst-case scenario Flora feared was simply the reality Roman had anticipated from the start.
Ultimately, common sense dictated that the situation was highly unfavorable.
Meeting Roman's gaze, the soldiers did not look away.
Thirty soldiers.
They had staked their lives on this trial.
They were fundamentally strong-hearted individuals. Even when entering the jaws of death, they might be tense, but they refused to turn away from reality.
It was enough.
Roman had gathered the minimum number of men required for his plan.
"I do not expect much from you in this operation. I will take the lead. Once I charge ahead, slaughter the enemies, and open a path, you will follow behind and clean up the remnants. Keep this in mind: our primary objective is to destroy the siege weapons. If anyone loses their mind, drunk on blood and slaughter, I will abandon them in the jaws of death without hesitation."
At Roman's words, the soldiers' eyes wavered.
Though it sounded cruel at first glance, Roman had just declared that he would stand at the absolute front in this perilous situation.
It was not out of consideration.
Not yet.
He simply did not trust these soldiers yet.
Therefore, Roman chose to trust only himself, taking on the role of facing the enemy head-on.
Soon, the time came.
"Now!"
At Roman's command, the soldiers charged out in unison.
*
From afar, Roman and his forces came into view.
Barco quickly assessed the situation, but they did not immediately recall their forces from the front lines.
"What is that?"
Viscount Barco's face contorted.
The enemy seemed to have prepared a desperate trump card, but the crude tactic was so laughable it made him scoff.
"Do they really think they can do something to us with that pathetic number of men? Fools who know nothing of war always sit at their desks wishing for miracles. Men! Prepare to welcome our insane guests immediately."
"Yes, my Lord!"
Clank! Clank!
The soldiers moved.
Holding their shields tight against their bodies and thrusting their spears forward, they prepared to receive the enemy.
The difference in strength was clear.
The force launching the surprise attack numbered a mere thirty, while Barco's rear guard was three times that size. Furthermore, it included elites like the leader of the Berge Mercenary Group and their knights. Viscount Barco had absolutely no reason to be afraid, fully believing this reckless attempt would be cleaned up in no time.
Before long, the enemies arrived.
The moment they confirmed the opponents were not from Lawrence, the man at the lead kicked off the ground alone.
Whoosh!
In a flash, their vision spun.
The man's movements—they couldn't even keep up with them.
They had clearly thought there was still some distance between them, but before they knew it, he had reached the soldiers and thrown himself into their ranks. It looked like a suicidal act. The soldiers raised their shields high to brace for the impact, while the second-line troops behind them thrust their spears through the gaps in the shields, aiming to skewer the man's body to pieces.
The future seemed obvious.
The man's body would be shredded into rags.
Watching the situation unfold, Viscount Barco's eyes widened at the sight that followed.
Slash!
Spurt!
Blood sprayed.
They had undoubtedly blocked with their shields, yet the severed heads of the soldiers tumbled down in heaps before the man's sword.
A massacre immediately ensued.
In an instant, the defensive formation collapsed.
It was a sight that completely defied common sense, unbelievable even when witnessed with one's own eyes.