Chapter 82: An Unprepared Disaster (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 82: An Unprepared Disaster (3)
The moment news of the enemy attack reached him, Roman knew the 5th Defense Line wouldn't hold for long.
'The Southern Front as a whole lacks military discipline, but the 5th Defense Line's combat capability is the absolute worst thanks to its commander, Baron Bruce. Between their outdated equipment and rotten mindset, they'll last two hours at best. I need to get there in one.'
This assessment was based on Lucas's intelligence and the records in the book McBurney had given him.
There was no time to lose.
After notifying the Reserve Unit's officers that he was pushing ahead, Roman immediately set out with his men.
The 5th Defense Line was a two-hour march from the Reserve Unit's encampment. Normally, cutting that travel time in half should have been impossible, but Roman's soldiers ran after him without a single complaint. This was where their hellish training truly shone. For men who had climbed mountains daily while hauling heavy military gear, sprinting across flat ground barely even disrupted their breathing.
After a long, grueling sprint, they finally neared the 5th Defense Line.
It was then.
Spotting a man sprinting frantically toward them from the distance, Roman raised a hand, signaling his soldiers to halt.
"Oh! Oh, thank god! It's the Reserve Unit!" the man gasped in overwhelming relief.
It was Baron Bruce.
To him, they were an oasis in the desert. Wiping the dripping sweat from his face with a sleeve, he marched up to Roman.
"Are you the commander of these troops? Skip the formalities—just escort me to the rear immediately. Right now, reporting the critical danger of the Southern Front to the royal court is far more important than reinforcing the 5th Defense Line!"
He was panting heavily.
Roman coldly observed Baron Bruce, who was barking orders as if it were his natural right.
'The commander of the 5th Defense Line.'
It was the exact face he had seen in the personnel register. The problem was that with a war breaking out, he had absolutely no business being here. There were only two possibilities. Either the 5th Defense Line had already fallen, or he had fled alone.
"Baron Bruce. Why are you here alone, without your troops?"
"Baron Bruce?! What an insolent bastard! You're in the Reserve Unit, which makes you a semi-noble at best. How dare you speak to me so informally!"
"You seem to be misunderstanding something..."
Grab.
"Ghk?!"
Roman seized Baron Bruce by the collar. The baron's pathetic struggles were utterly futile. He thrashed wildly, trying to shake off the grip, but the crushing strength of Roman's hand held him completely paralyzed.
Roman Dmitry stared down at him. In that instant, a terrifying chill ran down the baron's spine. Roman's gaze was far too fierce, too predatory to belong to an ordinary human. It was more than Baron Bruce could bear.
Roman spoke.
"Your presence here means only one thing. The commander abandoned his soldiers and fled. Under military law, deserters can be summarily executed regardless of their status. Do you know what that means?"
"You... you wouldn't dare..."
"I assure you, I would."
Slash!
A sudden gust of wind blew.
No one even saw Roman draw his sword. In the blink of an eye, the blade flashed in the sunlight and cleanly severed Baron Bruce's neck.
The baron's head hit the dirt. His face, unable to process his sudden death, was frozen in an expression of sheer terror.
Flick.
Roman casually shook the blood off his blade.
It was a shocking turn of events. Even though executing a noble was a massive crime, Roman's eyes remained completely indifferent as he stared down at the sprawling corpse.
"If you had at least ordered a retreat before fleeing, you wouldn't have died by my hand."
This incident wouldn't be a problem. They were in the middle of a war. The only witnesses were Roman's soldiers, and much like their liege, they weren't particularly shocked by what had just transpired. During the destruction of the Barco family, Roman had already revealed his nature as an absolute predator. Perhaps when Baron Bruce first started shouting, they had secretly hoped for this exact outcome.
"Let's go."
Roman took the lead. To keep pace, the soldiers quickly fell into step behind him, leaving Baron Bruce's headless corpse abandoned in the dirt.
* * *
Barely an hour.
That was all the time that had passed since the enemy attack began. They should have still been utilizing the massive advantage of a siege defense, but with its gates already breached, the 5th Defense Line had devolved into a screaming hellscape.
Thwack!
"Gah!"
"Aaargh!"
Screams echoed from all directions. The soldiers of the Hector Kingdom were ruthlessly slaughtering the Cairo soldiers. Casualties mounted at a terrifying rate as the enemy poured endlessly through the broken gates. There was no way to stem the tide. The dust-covered magic weapons refused to function, and raining down arrows was out of the question now that the enemy had already scaled the walls.
Even so, the soldiers fought to the bitter end.
Bound by Baron Bruce's final order to fight to the death, Steven—the sole knight of the 5th Defense Line—swung his sword with desperate fury.
"Die!"
Spurt!
His face was drenched in the hot blood of enemy soldiers. Steven, widely considered the only 'true soldier' on the 5th Defense Line, viciously cut down the enemies blocking his path. Twelve men had already fallen to his sharp swordsmanship. Yet, there was no end in sight. Staring at the endless waves of enemy troops, Steven's mouth went dry.
'Damn it, damn it.'
It was over. The battle was already lost. If the gates had remained intact, they might have held out somehow. But the moment those wooden doors splintered, any hope of stopping the enemy vanished.
'I knew a day like this would come eventually.'
Complacency was a contagious disease. Everyone knew that neglecting equipment maintenance and slacking off on guard duty was wrong. But when generation after generation acted with the exact same laziness, people simply accepted it as tradition. On the Southern Front, the commander's authority was absolute. A mere knight couldn't change the culture, and his reluctant acceptance of that reality had ultimately led to this very slaughter.
Rumble!
A section of the castle wall crumbled. Enemy troops immediately flooded through the new gap.
The situation was pitch black. Despite holding the massive advantage of a fortress defense, the 5th Defense Line was on the verge of total collapse in less than an hour.
'We can't be wiped out like this. We have to retreat, save as many men as possible, and plan for the future.'
He frantically scanned the battlefield for the commander. Issuing the retreat was the commander's duty. He intended to persuade Baron Bruce to pull the men back, but no matter where he looked, the baron was nowhere to be found.
'No way.'
Suddenly, the image of Baron Bruce slipping away alone flashed through his mind. At the time, he hadn't thought the baron was actually fleeing. How could the commander of a defense line run away without even putting up a proper fight?
His blood ran cold. Steven realized that this fortress was going to be his grave.
"Fucking pig."
He could run away after him. But he refused to. Rather than abandoning his men just to save his own skin, he believed it was far more honorable to fight to his absolute limits and die.
"Aaaaargh!"
He charged forward, sword in hand, slashing wildly into the enemy ranks. He was a dead man anyway. Baron Bruce would never leave any survivors alive to expose his cowardly shame, and he would have even less reason to spare a prominent figure like Steven.
Steven's mind grew eerily calm. Having accepted his death, he reaped the lives of his enemies in a frenzy of madness, completely ignoring the wounds accumulating across his own body.
Slash!
He sliced through enemy flesh, feeling the life fade from the man through his blade. But in exchange, a spear violently pierced Steven from behind.
Thud!
"Gah!"
White-hot pain shot through his mind. Death was staring him right in the face. Barely managing to decapitate the spearman who had stabbed him, he looked up at another sword descending straight toward his head.
'This is the end.'
He had finally reached his limit.
At the exact moment he accepted his death—
Spurt!
—a black-haired man appeared out of nowhere, scattering a brilliant arc of crimson blood in his wake.
* * *
By the time Roman arrived at the fortress, the gates had already been shattered. There was no time to think. Charging forward, he barked an order to his soldiers.
"I will take the vanguard! Clear out the enemies in order and follow me!"
It was just like his past life. The Heavenly Demon, Baek Joong-hyuk. He had always fought at the absolute front, leading the charge ahead of everyone else. That was how he had achieved the impossible feat of conquering the Murim.
It was no different in this world. He knew that for every enemy he struck down, he was saving his own men and pushing the war closer to a swift end.
Roman threw himself into the chaotic hellscape, his sword flashing toward the enemy soldiers who rushed him.
Spurt!
It was the beginning of a one-sided slaughter.
The first two soldiers who tried to coordinate an attack had their heads severed in a single, fluid strike. The others lunging at him from all sides collapsed into pools of their own blood in the blink of an eye. It was an overwhelming display of might. Like a wolf dropped into a helpless flock of sheep, Roman advanced rapidly, butchering every enemy in his path.
Yet, he didn't rush in blindly. Moving at a perfectly measured pace, he maintained a specific distance from his own soldiers, naturally drawing the vast majority of the enemy's blades toward himself.
"M-Monster!"
"Kill him!"
The Hector soldiers quickly realized that Roman was no ordinary man. They swarmed him simultaneously, but no matter how many lunged at him, they were the only ones turning into corpses.
In just five minutes, Roman had effortlessly cut down dozens of men. Blood dripped steadily from his sword, his clothes quickly becoming drenched in gore.
It was then that Roman spotted a man fighting desperately against the enemy tide.
'Steven?'
He recognized the face from the personnel register. According to Lucas's intelligence, if Roman was deployed to the 5th Defense Line, Steven was the only man there described as having any real value.
Roman made a swift decision. He carved a path through the enemies blocking his way. And then, at the exact moment Steven accepted his impending death, Roman cleanly severed the neck of the enemy swinging a sword at the knight.
Spurt!
Thud.
Roll.
The severed head rolled across the bloody dirt.
There was no time for introductions. A massive number of enemies had already breached the walls, and Roman tirelessly cut down the foes rushing toward them.
"...What in the world?"
The sudden sequence of events left Steven utterly dazed. Still unable to process the fact that he was alive, he watched in absolute shock as Roman one-sidedly slaughtered the Hector troops. Did such a monster exist on the Southern Front?
Amidst his chaotic thoughts, a specific name suddenly surfaced.
"Roman Dmitry. He is scheduled to be assigned to the 5th Defense Line's Reserve Unit."
He had heard those exact words from Baron Bruce just this morning. Upon hearing that a Ranker was being assigned to the Southern Front, Steven honestly hadn't viewed Roman Dmitry favorably. A Ranker was a strategic powerhouse. Frankly speaking, talent like that was desperately needed on the Western Front, not down here in the South. If Roman Dmitry truly cared about the Cairo Kingdom's safety, Steven believed he shouldn't have accepted an assignment to the 5th Defense Line.
But that was a total misconception. Seeing Roman arrive so incredibly fast, Steven instantly realized just how hard the man must have marched to get here.
Thwack!
"...Gurgle."
Roman ruthlessly finished off the last remaining enemy in their immediate vicinity. Flicking the blood off his blade, Roman approached Steven.
"Are you Steven?"
"Yes, I am."
"Baron Bruce is dead. From this moment on, you are the acting commander of this fortress. Based on your years of experience serving at the 5th Defense Line, tell me exactly what is needed to defend this place. If even you judge it to be completely hopeless, I, Roman Dmitry, Commander of the Reserve Unit, will order a full withdrawal of all forces."
It was a bewildering situation. Steven couldn't easily organize his thoughts. This powerhouse was asking for his tactical advice based purely on his 'experience.' Steven pondered briefly but deeply before answering.
"...To be brutally honest, the tide of battle has already turned heavily against us. Logically speaking, retreating is the correct decision. However, doing so would hand the enemy a massive strategic advantage. A river flows directly behind the Southern Front. In preparation for a prolonged war, the Hector Kingdom must secure a safe route for their supply lines. If they fail to capture all five defense lines, they won't be able to drag this out into a long-term conflict."
He organized his thoughts as he spoke. At first, he had truly believed they should give up and run. But the more he explained it out loud, the more he realized they absolutely couldn't abandon this fortress.
If that was the case, they had to turn the tables somehow.
"There is only one way. We have to stop the enemy from pouring through the main gates. The gap in the collapsed wall isn't very wide, but the gates are a massive vulnerability. If we can secure just ten minutes, we can use the spare iron fences to barricade the entrance as a last resort."
It was the only viable option. If the full bulk of the enemy forces made it inside the fortress, there would be zero chance of victory. Knowing full well how suicidal of a task it was, Steven still proposed the best tactical option for the kingdom's future.
However, no matter how he looked at it, it was an impossible task. With countless enemy troops already flooding into the courtyard, how on earth were they supposed to break through the horde and secure the gates?
It was then. Without a single moment of hesitation, Roman spoke.
"I will secure the space to install those fences. Move your surviving troops immediately and get them ready."
At those words, Steven could only stare at him, his eyes wide with absolute shock.
