Chapter 276
Chapter 276
Iron Emperor — Chapter 276
Chapter 90: Better to Die or Live Like a Beggar Than to Become a Slave of the Victor
"Damn! Damn! Daaaaamn!"
Duke Helios Baikal spoke in despair. Dozens of figures soared above the heads of the panicking Holy Empire soldiers. The Magic Corps.
* * *
Rain of fire fell, blanketing the sky.
Once you take the field, you're expected to be ready to lose your life. But dying before you can even properly start a single battle is truly bitter. Especially as a soldier of the Holy Empire, said to be the strongest on the continent.
"D-damn!"
Despair already filled the eyes of the Holy Empire soldiers standing in the oil spread all around them. In truth, very few people can face a foretold death with dignity.
"Aaaagh!"
Screams erupted even before the fire arrows fell.
At that moment, a blue curtain surged upward.
"Water Wall!"
The wizards' incantations rang out, slicing through the air.
A curtain of water then surged up in front of the soldiers, as if cutting the earth in two. The sight of the wizards chanting their spells in perfect unison, robes billowing in the air, was nothing short of wondrous.
Of course, some soldiers had their bodies torn apart by the rising water curtain, but a few sacrifices are always deemed necessary for the benefit of the many.
"The narrow entrance worked against us after all."
Duke Helios Baikal smiled bitterly.
He had chosen the narrow gorge exit as the battlefield to effectively annihilate a large enemy force, but this time, that same scheme had created a chokepoint that made it easier for the enemy's Magic Division to defend.
If the front line had been wider, the surprise attack would have succeeded.
On top of that, the enemy had used the offensive spell Water Wall instead of the defensive Water Shield. An unexpected measure.
"H-how can they do that!"
"D-damn! Those enemy wizards!"
The greater the expectation, the greater the bitterness of failure.
This is even more true in wartime.
The Holy Empire soldiers' morale, which had risen after their initial panic at the fire arrows, now plunged even faster than it had climbed.
"Don't panic!"
As the soldiers panicked at the scene unfolding before them, the commanders rushed around shouting encouragement. But in extreme situations—life-or-death moments—instant action is sometimes needed more than words.
Now was such a time.
"Wizards!"
Duke Baikal summoned the wizards.
"Make an opening!"
At Duke Baikal's command, the wizards took flight without hesitation.
Their offensive magic had a short range, so they had to advance even though they knew it would likely make them targets. Fortunately for them, the enemy wizards were currently pouring magical power into maintaining the Water Wall.
"Archers! Light your arrows!"
As the wizards swiftly flew toward the enemy lines, the archers moved to the torches placed at intervals and set their arrowheads aflame.
"Oum Sala Umtaa!"
The moment the activation word echoed through the air, flaming arrows were nocked onto the archers' bows.
"Draw!"
At Duke Baikal's loud shout, the knights urged the archers on. Bows drawn taut. The flames blazing at the arrow tips made their faces tingle with heat.
Duke Baikal nodded, and his adjutant swept a flag down through the air.
"Loose!"
Fwoosh!
At the same time, the knights in charge of the archers shouted at the top of their lungs. Clusters of fire embroidered the air once more.
"Ice Arrow!"
As the archers' arrows arced toward the wizards hovering at the very front, icy arrows that froze the air itself flew out first.
"Energy Bolt!"
And behind them came the crystallized masses of mana.
"Watch out!"
Warnings rang out. The wizards pivoted toward their own forces and rapidly cast a third spell. Some flew even higher. The reason was simple: their allies' fire arrows did not have eyes.
"Protection from Missile!"
"K-kagh!"
Before the defensive magic raised to block the friendly arrows could fully deploy, a pained scream burst from one wizard.
The fire arrows lacked great penetrative power, but taking a hit in midair from a flame that wouldn't easily go out was fatal.
"Kraaaaa!"
But no one could go to the aid of the wizard who plummeted to the ground with a long scream. Nor could anyone blame their allies in this situation.
This is war.
* * *
The Ice Arrows flying in the vanguard, the Energy Bolts following behind, and finally the fire arrows—this attack formation vividly demonstrated Roselin's intent.
"First Magic Corps, maintain magical power! Second Corps, prepare to extinguish fires!"
The moment the command passed among the Holy Empire wizards, the icy arrows struck the water barrier.
"Incoming!"
A scream-like shout greeted the first wave.
Crack!
Here and there, the water barrier froze. The Energy Bolts that followed pierced the ice, creating gaps. And then came the fire arrows...
Thwump-thwump-thwump!
"Uwaaagh!"
The oil, mixed with water, spread rapidly. Not many arrows had gotten through, but the spreading oil was more than enough to shroud the soldiers' bodies in a fiery hell.
The gaps created in that fleeting instant were quickly sealed by the efforts of the First Magic Corps. But there was no remedy for the flames that had already caught. The wizards' cold voices echoed across the battlefield.
"Dig!"
"Urgh!"
The Dig spells cast where flames raged collapsed the ground, burying both the fire and the soldiers. Even perfectly healthy soldiers were swallowed by the pits simply for being in the fire's path.
The pits stretched in long lines across the field. Water rushed into them, and because the burning oil was lighter than water, it was pushed into the pits along with the flow.
An icy chill swept over them.
"Ice Touch!"
"H-help!"
Crack-crack-crack!
The soldiers floundering in water and flame froze in place, their faces twisted in horror as they cried for mercy. Grotesque ice statues formed in the rapidly freezing pits.
The soldiers who had been screaming in agony from their burns, the ones who had been unscathed but tumbled in because they were too close to the pits—their horrified expressions were now starkly visible.
"Hi-hiyik!"
"Dirt! Throw dirt!"
Wherever the flames were weak, soldiers frantically threw soil. All the fires were extinguished in moments. The larger blazes had already been contained by the wizards' swift response, so putting out the smaller flames happened in an instant.
A brutal countermeasure, but an appropriate one.
"Knight Order, forward!"
"Advance the Second Magic Corps!"
As the water barrier was withdrawn, the knights formed ranks. And above them, the wizards rose into the air.
In that moment, Duke Baikal's expression hardened.
"Your Grace."
"...We retreat."
He hadn't needed to stake everything on this one battle anyway. But his intention—to inflict at least some damage in the opening clash and dampen enemy morale—was already a lost cause.
If anything, he had only confirmed the enemy's strength.
Boom, boom, boom!
The moment the flag signaling retreat was raised, a mournful drumbeat sounded. Now was the time to preserve his forces as much as possible.
"Set the fires!"
"Dig!"
"Dig!"
Soldiers tossed torches onto the slopes they were climbing, kindling flames everywhere. It was clear from the outset that this had been an operation planned with retreat in mind from the very beginning.
And the wizards, on their way back, left pits everywhere using Dig magic to hobble any mounted pursuit.
"Retreat!"
"Fall back!"
As the knights' orders rang out from all directions, the soldiers moved with greater alacrity than they had shown in any prior action.
* * *
What happens when one side attacks to its heart's content and then simply runs away, victory or defeat aside?
"Those rat bastards!"
It's only human nature to be infuriated.
Curses flew from the mouths of the staff officers around Saint Public.
"The Knight Order and the Magic Corps will prepare to pursue—"
"Hold."
It was Marquess Public who quashed the staff's will to pursue.
At his warning, the officers stared after the retreating Roselin troops and pleaded in frustration.
"Marquess, though they have set fires and dug pits, that alone is not enough to prevent pursuit."
Unlike his adjutants and staff officers, whose faces were flushed red, Marquess Public's expression was utterly calm.
"It is simply a lure."
He spoke flatly, then urged his horse forward and pointed in the direction the Roselin army was retreating.
"Judging by these flames, it's clearly an operation planned with retreat in mind from the start. Meaning they spread oil in advance. And while they used Dig spells to create pits, don't they look somewhat haphazard to you?"
"Ah, now that you mention it..."
"Ho-ho, not the War God of the East, but the God of Cunning, I'd say."
He let out a hearty laugh as he approached the fallen soldiers. Quietly raising both hands to the sky, he offered a eulogy for the dead.
"Your holy sacrifices shall be repaid a hundredfold, a thousandfold, through the blood of heathens. This is the will of the Lord God and the promise of Saint Public..."
Standing before the ice statues that were already beginning to melt away, his hands spread to the heavens, Marquess Public looked more grotesque than sacred as he offered his condolences.
"They truly aren't following..."
A bitter smile played at the lips of Duke Baikal, who had remained at the rear of the retreating Roselin army to observe the enemy camp.
Thus, the opening battle of the Continental War ended with Holy Empire casualties limited to only around three hundred men.
* * *
The legion of Duke Helios Baikal, the War God of the East, suffered zero casualties, while the legion of Marquess Saint Public of the Holy Empire incurred 286 dead and 52 wounded—338 total casualties.
The reason for the Holy Empire's high death toll was that the Magic Corps had turned their hands against their own soldiers to prevent even greater damage.
However, this outcome brought no benefit whatsoever to Roselin.
"Hmm."
Duke Baikal let out a low groan.
"Still, we suffered no damage to our forces."
"Of course, the result is something, but... the problem is morale."
"...."
"The failure of the operation is truly regrettable."