The Great Rotation (1)
The further north we traveled toward the Akran Mountains, the longer the lines of refugees fleeing south to escape the orcs grew. After days of watching these processions, even the once-lively atmosphere among the troops began to sink.
“You think we can’t handle a few measly orcs? Look around! See this entire plain filled with our army?”
“No matter how strong those orc bastards are, we’re going to win!”
Whether by Marquis Marcel’s orders or some other commander’s directive, loud and cheerful soldiers stepped forward, waging a kind of public opinion campaign among the refugees and troops. To regular soldiers it might not have looked like psychological warfare, but having seen this exact method used on Earth to boost morale and comfort the men, I immediately understood its true purpose.
It was reassuring to know there were competent people among the leadership. The nightly banquets disguised as strategy meetings had almost completely stopped, replaced by actual briefings. It seemed the commanders here were reasonably capable after all.
“I had a hard time protecting you, my friend. Your reputation has already spread, and it’s become troublesome. Try to hide your abilities a little better from now on.”
Baron Cortner had been groaning ever since returning from the command meeting. The reason was that word had gotten out about me using healing buffs to treat injured refugees.
“It’s not as good as a priest’s power, but your healing ability far surpasses most mages. I even had to invoke the Count’s name to stop them from trying to take you away.”
“Thank you. Since we’re getting close to the Akran Mountains, I’ll be more careful.”
The Shuzel Kingdom’s central army had coveted my healing abilities, but staying here was far better than being worked to death over there.
“For now, the central army holding the middle is composed of an allied force of elves and dwarves. Our Shuzel Kingdom forces will move from the left wing and advance all the way to the Portran Plains.”
Baron Cortner explained while looking at the map. As a fallen noble who had worked with merchant caravans in his youth, he had plenty of experience with orcs and monsters. Perhaps because of that, he gave orders to the soldiers in a merchant-like manner—clear explanations followed by precise instructions—which earned my trust.
“Then it’s been decided that the decisive battle will take place on the Portran Plains?”
“That’s right. The overall commander, Marquis Marcel of the Splain Empire, wants our Shuzel Kingdom army and the Orman Kingdom army—moving on the flanks—to drive the orcs into this plain.”
“So he’s deliberately choosing the battlefield. Marquis Marcel must have some kind of plan in mind.”
“I’d say so. Which is why, starting tomorrow, we’ll move to the left and begin operations to recapture villages and fortress cities. I’ll try to leverage my past experience to take command of the supply unit, but if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to fight fiercely. Everyone, make your preparations.”
The realization that we were truly about to fight the orcs weighed heavily on everyone’s minds.
The next day, the tangled encampment split into three columns and began to move. Even the demi-human races who had been bickering with each other waved farewell as we departed. Baron Cortner had successfully taken charge of supply transport. I, however, had not.
“They said there was no reason for the best healing mage to be in the supply convoy, and I couldn’t argue any further. Still, the healers and supply units will move together most of the time, so I’ll do what I can to make things comfortable for you.”
His words sounded reasonable, but I suspected Baron Cortner had traded me to Count McKane in exchange for securing the supply command. He really was a skilled merchant.
“Pierce! This patient has passed the critical stage, so help him down from the wagon.”
Pierce and his brothers, who had originally been my escorts, had become assistant soldiers tasked with moving patients. The healers’ wagons weren’t moving, and neither was the main army. They were supposed to be capturing a place called Brick Village—a town known for producing bricks—but it seemed the orcs and kobolds were holding firm, preventing any proper assault.
I sent the youngest of the five brothers, Tain, to scout the situation. He reported that they couldn’t even break through the approach to the village itself.
“The only entrance into the village is connected by a bridge over the river. Orc warriors are blocking the bridge, and they can’t break through.”
“They can’t use magic because they’re afraid the bridge will collapse, so the knights have to break through. But none of the knights are stepping up properly.”
Just as Count Shulman hadn’t committed his elite forces, the other nobles were doing the same. They had sent only the dregs instead of their core knightly power, so there weren’t enough knights to deal with the two orc warriors blocking the bridge.
“Normally, when fighting orc warriors in such a narrow space, the standard tactic is to lure them forward and back to draw them out. Then you overwhelm them with numbers. But these ones refuse to leave the bridge.”
Curious, I went to see for myself. About ten orcs were stationed on the narrow bridge, completely blocking the knights and soldiers. Crossbowmen and archers were firing bolts and arrows nonstop, but the orcs behind them kept raising shields to block, rendering the projectiles useless.
When it became clear nothing else would work, offensive mages stepped forward. It seemed they had decided to risk destroying the stone bridge.
“Fireball!”
Four fireballs shot forward at once. I thought the orcs would either retreat from the flames or burn alive.
“Jukeraida!”
But a bizarre, scream-like chant rang out, and the fireballs shriveled up and vanished before they could even reach the enemy.
“It’s an orc shaman!”
The orcs had prepared thoroughly to neutralize magic as well. The mages and knights watching this were frustrated, but the commander, Count McKane, was even more so.
“Are there really no knights willing to fight these orc warriors?”
“The knights are all protecting themselves.”
The brave knights and soldiers who had stepped forward first had either died or been carried away injured, so it was understandable that no one wanted to follow. But if they hesitated from the very first battle, morale would collapse. Even if the orcs simply charged, the soldiers would likely break and run.
They needed to show the inexperienced troops that killing orcs wasn’t such a big deal.
“One hundred gold! I’ll wager one hundred gold! One hundred gold to whoever breaks through that bridge!”
At Count McKane’s shout, greed lit up the eyes of several men who had been holding back. They quickly formed ranks and stepped forward.
Two men with thick shields took the lead, followed by others who locked shields together, advancing slowly like a turtle. Arrows and bolts rained down from both sides, but the orc warriors simply waited behind their own shields for the volley to stop.
When the formation drew close enough for spears to reach, long cavalry lances began stabbing low instead of high—aiming for the orc warriors’ feet. A few groans broke out as some were wounded, but the orcs still refused to charge out.
When the distance closed enough for swords to reach, the orcs finally shoved their shields aside and swung their massive iron maces.
[BOOM! CRASH!]
The large shield-bearers managed to block with their shields, but they couldn’t withstand the orc warriors’ raw power and staggered wildly. Still, the men behind them supported the formation, allowing them to hold somehow.
Then, just as the next mace swing came, the shield-bearers slightly crouched. Light, rapid footsteps rang out—tap tap tap—as two figures leaped over the crouched shield-bearers.
The two moved so fast they seemed to fly, diving straight into the blind spots of the mace-swinging orcs. The orc warriors frantically swung their weapons but couldn’t connect.
The agile attackers collided with the orcs’ bodies, using the impact as a springboard to leap past them. The orc warriors tried to raise their maces again, but their arms wouldn’t obey. Blood poured from their armpits and elbow joints where the attackers had struck.
“Push forward!”
The large shield-bearer who had endured the mace blows roared and poured every ounce of strength into advancing. The orcs blocking the bridge were forced backward. Meanwhile, the two swift attackers who had leaped inside hurled daggers at what appeared to be a shaman and slit his throat.
“All troops, charge!”
Seeing that the bridge had been broken through, Count McKane ordered the full assault. As the troops poured forward, the pressure from behind naturally pushed the lead shield-bearers into the orcs. They broke past the bridge and entered the village outskirts.
There were more orcs and goblins further back, but without defensive cover or spatial advantage, they couldn’t stand against the numerically superior humans.
“Kill them all! Kill them until everyone learns that orcs and goblins are nothing special, then trample their corpses and kill them again!”
Pleased with how stylishly the bridge had been taken, Count McKane screamed at the top of his lungs.
“Osoro. Those two are catfolk, right?”
“The black fur means they’re a different tribe from me, but yes, their movements are definitely those of catfolk.”
The knights had been reluctant to advance down that deadly path, yet it had been cleared by the combination of sturdy shield-bearers and the lightning-fast movements of the catfolk. I was curious about them. And from what I’d seen, I now had a decent understanding of how shield-bearers, catfolk, and avianfolk coordinated with one another.
After capturing Brick Village—which was easy to defend—the Shuzel Kingdom army set up their headquarters there and pitched their tents.
“The ones who broke through the bridge belong to the Tirita Mercenary Company,” the youngest of the five brothers, Tain, reported after scurrying about gathering information.
“Are they a famous company?”
“They were founded just last year. Their leader, Tirita, is said to be an incredibly powerful warrior. The one who blocked the orc warrior’s mace from the front was Tirita himself.”
Hearing that, I had to admit it was impressive. Simply being able to fully block an orc warrior’s mace with a shield made him an extraordinary individual.
“They’re leaving the supply unit and wounded here and will attack the fortress city of Raho, which is two days away.”
“A fortress city means it has walls. Can we take it with these forces?”
“Orcs don’t usually rely on walls for defense. Though after seeing today, they might just stay behind the walls like they did on that bridge. In that case, taking a fortress would be extremely difficult.”
“Right? That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
Marquis Marcel insisted on a decisive battle for his own benefit, but after today, I see that was wrong. These orcs are clearly different from any we’ve faced before.
Count McKane’s words were met with nods from everyone present.
“Normally, whether they’re orc warriors or regular orcs, they can’t control their rage when provoked and rush out. This is the first time I’ve seen orcs who know how to hold back.”
Everyone had witnessed the fight on the bridge against the Tirita Mercenary Company, so they had seen for themselves that the orcs could fight patiently while holding shields. If the orcs continued to fight defensively from behind walls like this, capturing any fortress would become several times more difficult.
“I’ve already sent word to Marquis Marcel about this behavior and warned that we may not be able to push all the way to the Portran Plains. From now on, we must fight while minimizing our losses as much as possible.”
“Then how about we observe how the orcs respond in front of Raho’s gates before deciding whether to attack or withdraw? If they properly utilize the walls for defense, let’s not force the issue and pull back.”
Suggesting they hold back even against their mortal enemy, the orcs, would normally have earned harsh criticism. But no one said a word against it now.
They had seen countless refugees while marching toward the Akran Mountains, but that was the Splain Empire’s problem. The dispatched nobles had a duty to preserve their own forces as much as possible and return home safely.
Drink up! Drink up! In addition to the 100 gold Count McKane promised, he’s given our mercenary company wine and meat! We’re eating and drinking everything tonight!
Unlike the quiet tents around it, one tent was filled with raucous drinking and laughter. No one nearby dared complain. The Tirita Mercenary Company had proven their bravery, and everyone acknowledged it.
“Boss, is your arm okay? Usually the pain hits hard after some time passes.”
Everyone asked worriedly about Tirita, who had taken an orc warrior’s mace head-on. Tirita simply flexed his upper body with a nonchalant expression and gave them a Hulk-like grin.
With my Strength at 10, something like that won’t even injure me.
Tirita laughed heartily and kept drinking.