Chapter 136
Chapter 136
The Iron Emperor — Chapter 136
When North Roselin's supreme commander and his knight order were routed and driven back, the soldiers' morale plunged even lower. Even if North Roselin held the numerical advantage on paper, the defeat of their knight order carried a different weight entirely.
The fact that their greatest military force had been shattered was more than enough to cast the shadow of defeat over soldiers already gripped by psychological dread. And that was not all.
Whoosh!
"Aaaagh! Get clear!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"Gaaaah! Someone put out the fire on my back!"
Fireballs detonated, scattering sparks in every direction. Where the masses of flame fell, bodies mangled beyond recognition lay strewn about. Apologies to the dead, but they were the fortunate ones.
"G-get away! Get away from me!"
"Graaaaa!"
Soldiers callously turned their backs on comrades rushing toward them wreathed head to toe in flame, reeking of seared flesh, shrieking incomprehensibly.
Men whose faces had melted from the searing heat yet still refused to release their final breath, thrashing and flailing blindly.
A vision of hell was unfolding across the North Roselin camp.
"Where the hell are those damn wizards on our side!"
Amid the spreading din of screams, a North Roselin soldier who could no longer withstand the terror wailed, his face smeared with tears.
Combat wizards were, by default, treated as quasi-nobility — and here, "wizard" meant one who had entered the 3rd Circle. Under normal circumstances, they were not people a common soldier could curse at.
"Wizards! Where are you, you worthless sons of bitches!"
But for men being slaughtered defenseless under the onslaught of South Roselin's wizards, nothing remained but raw spite.
"Wizard, please... Gwarghk!"
BOOM!
"Eeek!"
The body of the man who had been screaming and weeping like a madman was caught in a spell and blown apart. The North Roselin wizards who appeared sporadically managed only a spell or two before dying under the concentrated attacks of South Roselin's wizards — or simply fleeing again.
"To think the enemy camp would be this devoid of wizards..."
Marquis Baikal, too, tilted his head as he surveyed the battlefield, as if he could not quite comprehend it. At that, Baron Bels quietly approached and offered his own assessment.
"It would seem the Gauri forces have had a hand in this."
At Baron Bels's words, Marquis Baikal glanced sidelong and asked in return,
"Aren't you being overly sensitive?"
Marquis Baikal's words carried a note of reproach directed at Baron Bels.
The Baron had been going on about Gauri, Gauri, Gauri since before the battle even began, and Marquis Baikal could no longer keep his displeasure from showing.
But he could not openly rebuke the man, either. Judging by how the battle had unfolded so far, it was an undeniable fact that Gauri's intervention had been an enormous help.
The North Roselin main camp had been thrown into such disarray they could barely muster a counterattack. In a sense, from South Roselin's perspective, the Gauri were saviors.
Yet that was precisely what troubled Marquis Baikal.
Baron Bels was not unaware of Marquis Baikal's inner thoughts. But reality was reality.
"The Gauri camp had an Archwizard."
"So you've said."
Marquis Baikal's eyes widened.
"From what we have confirmed so far... it was the capability of an Archwizard."
"What exactly are you saying! The mere fact of an Archwizard is astonishing enough — are you now suggesting it might be not an Archwizard but an Archmage!"
At Marquis Baikal's startled counter, Baron Bels bowed his head deeply.
Having seen it with his own eyes, even he felt embarrassed to broach the subject.
When they had prepared for this operation, they had discussed Gauri only briefly and focused on the existence of the Archwizard, on Baron Gowin and the Hawk Corps. The truth he himself had witnessed was so absurd — how much more so for others who had not seen it?
In such circumstances, suggesting that the Archwizard might be something beyond even that was more than enough to evoke Marquis Baikal's horror. The Archwizards currently on the continent numbered very few. Furthermore, those possessing power at the 7th Circle or higher — that is, Archmages — had numbered only two in all of recorded history.
"Marquis Baikal, we are still in the midst of battle."
"Haaah..."
When Baron Bels spoke in a subdued voice, Marquis Baikal wore a frustrated expression. Gazing toward the front lines where the fighting raged, Baron Bels continued.
"When this battle is over, we must secure Gauri. We must! We absolutely must make them our allies."
Baron Bels's repeated words echoed in Marquis Baikal's ears.
The Marquis's eyes grew still. If everything unfolding across this battlefield had been engineered by the group called Gauri, exactly as they intended... he let the thought play out.
'Sweat...'
Marquis Baikal released the reins and, without realizing it, looked down at his palm. What he felt through the gauntlet covering his hand was sweat, copiously damp.
"Yes... we are still in the midst of battle."
The Marquis's gaze returned to the battlefield. But without conscious awareness, his hand kept clenching and unclenching, over and over.
* * *
The Gauri force's seizure of supplies was a success. Because no one had imagined supplies could be captured in the middle of a pitched battle, they had been able to take them intact. In fact, the North Roselin troops had frantically protected the supplies from being set ablaze by the Gauri soldiers — which only made things easier.
It was only when the Gauri troops were transferring supplies to empty wagons and hauling off the enemy's carts wholesale that the North Roselin army finally caught on. In a battle they had assumed would be the final engagement, the Gauri had simply swiped their goods and left — was that not behavior unseen in any battle, in any history?
"The rest of you, withdraw as well!"
Buyeo Gi-yul's voice rang out, and the soldiers answered forcefully before beginning to disengage.
"Huh?"
"What are you doing, not withdrawing!"
When Hairon stood there dumbly, Giyul pressed him sharply. But even Giyul, pressing instinctively, shifted his gaze in the direction Hairon was staring. Then Hairon's voice emerged.
"Doesn't that look a bit strange over there?"
"Hmm."
In the direction Hairon was looking, North Roselin knights were holding a screening line to prevent the Gauri troops from advancing further.
"Why are the knights clustered over there?"
"Mmm."
After the Gauri troops had stormed through, the North Roselin army's swift withdrawal to re-form ranks and prevent their main camp from collapsing entirely had been alert and nimble. But there was no reason for knights to be unusually concentrated in one spot — few as they were.
At Giyul's musing, Hairon delivered one more line, as if drawing a conclusion.
"There must be an important noble, or perhaps something valuable, don't you think?"
"In a situation where their supplies are being looted, would someone truly important stay behind after retreating?"
Giyul bared teeth faintly stained with blood as he countered Hairon's words. The answer was one thing.
"Something valuable?"
Hairon grinned back in agreement, and Giyul nodded before turning around.
"Quickly, to His Majesty—"
"Charge! Forward!"
Clatter-clatter!
"Huh!"
Go Jin-cheon had already heard everything he needed and moved straight to action, with Giyul and Hairon scrambling to chase after him.
* * *
Marquis Malain Ferguson, who had suffered a bitter reversal and been driven back, felt only devastation as the battle reports kept pouring in.
"Marquis, our magical power is far too insufficient! Even now, please commit the remaining personnel!"
"Are you telling us to go die, Sir Knight!"
At the outcry of the blackened, scorched knight, a wizard — equally torn and charred all over — raised his voice in retort.
"Grrk."
Watching the quarrel between wizards and knights, Marquis Ferguson felt a throbbing at the back of his skull.
In this pitched battle, the utility of wizards was immense. But during the initial surprise attack, those who had been residing in the heart of the main camp — which was believed to be secure — including the high-ranking wizards, had been annihilated.
The only ones left were the handful who had been dispatched to the outer perimeter for camp security.
So of course they were short-handed. The knight order had been shattered, and their magical strength had collapsed. The common infantry was now being slaughtered defenselessly.
"Stop squabbling and find a solution, I said!"
"My lord Marquis, please compose yourself..."
When Marquis Ferguson's roar erupted, the chief of staff rushed over and took hold of him. At the sight of the Marquis bellowing at the top of his lungs with bloodshot eyes, the rest of the gathered men fell silent as if by prior agreement.
"My lord Marquis!"
Crash!
Before Marquis Ferguson's eyes, still trembling with fury, a knight who had come dashing up almost as though screaming collapsed and tumbled helplessly. His armor was in a state that could only be called scrap metal. Wearing plate nearly unrecognizable, the knight who had collapsed the moment he arrived raised his head with great difficulty.
"Wh-what is it?"
Marquis Ferguson asked in a shaking voice.
And despaired.
"The gold and silver — all the war funds we had gathered to send to the home kingdom — have been completely plundered. Hngh... hrrgh!"
"Guhk!"
The gold, silver, mithril — everything they had amassed while sacking South Roselin's royal capital and other locations — had been looted in a single stroke.
This was a different matter from having supplies or spoils of war seized. The gold and the rest they had gathered while striking South Roselin were critical resources for sustaining the war. Everything they had carefully organized to send back when the supply unit accompanying the Hawk Corps returned — all of it, plundered wholesale.
"Hrrrk... hrrrrgh..."
"Marquis!"
"Your Excellency!"
Marquis Ferguson's mouth gaped wide as he began to tremble violently. The startled staff officers and knights rushed to the Marquis. And at the same moment, a wretched voice rang out once more.
"Belssss!"
"Ah!"
"Marquis!"
"Bring water — water!"
In the end, unable to contain his fury, Marquis Ferguson shouted the name of the man he blamed for wrecking this war — Baron Bels(?) — and collapsed like a dead old tree.
"He's foaming at the mouth!"
Nobles crowded around Marquis Ferguson as he lay there like a man who had lost his mind, foam bubbling from his lips.
"Issue the retreat order at once!"
It was an unavoidable command from the chief of staff. With the supreme commander collapsed, further prosecution of the battle was impossible.