Chapter 45: The Great Battle Of Branov Plains (2)
The enemy soldiers, sensing their impending fate, shouted in fear right before their deaths.
“Damn it, filthy bastard! I don’t want to die.”
“M-Mom!!!”
“Send me home! Damn nobles!”
As they spoke, their bodies were pierced by arrows, burned by fire, and frozen solid, like meat in cold storage.
My soldiers sneered at the sight of the enemy, helpless and dying instantly.
“Look at those idiots, dropping like flies.”
“Serves them right, those morons. They were making fun of our people drying, and now they are dying the same way.”
“Look how peaceful it is now that they are dead. It’s finally quiet!”
Laughing at the sight of someone dying outside the battlefield would make one a sociopath, but in war, where taking more lives makes you a hero, mocking the miserable deaths of your enemies was the norm.
Some commanders even encouraged and spurred on such acts to shake off their fear of dying the same way.
I might not be a crazy commander to encourage such acts, but I certainly wouldn’t sympathize with the deaths of those who mocked my men. And in order to kill more of them and save more of ours, I issued the next command.
“It will take them some time to break through our mages and crossbowmen. Reorganize the ranks and catch your breaths for a moment!”
With that, Laura, my aide, and every platoon and squad leader relayed the orders.
Instead of mocking the enemy soldiers dying in droves, they began to reorganize their ranks with precision based on what they had learned from formal training, while staring at the enemies with the intent to kill all of them and survive.
This allowed us a brief respite to recover our stamina right before the battle intensified, while the enemy was mentally and physically depleted from the relentless magical and arrow assaults.
After about five minutes, the enemy’s infantry reached the vicinity of our mages and crossbowmen.
The two mage squads in the front sent the retreat signal as ordered and began to retreat slowly with the crossbowmen. The enemy infantry, though severely battered from the one-sided magical and arrow assaults for the past five minutes, approached us with eyes full of hostility.
Seeing people running towards you with such eyes would have been frightening in any other situation, but in war, unless you are an all-knowing strategist, those who are blinded by bloodlust die first.
“Damn you, wretches! Don’t you have mothers and fathers?”
“Who taught you to make war like this? Stick your neck out and just wait!”
“I’ll send you to your deceased parents!”
It seemed like seeing their comrades die one by one was causing them to lose their sanity.
“Yaeger Battalion, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd row, lower your spears!”
As I commanded, the battalion’s soldiers lowered their spears, forming a thick mass like branches or black grass.
Seeing this, I gave my soldiers the final command before the battle began.
“Don’t be afraid! If you step back in fear, you will be the first to die! And if you die, everyone will die! Don’t be afraid as you move forward!”
In a war where death was unpredictable, telling someone not to fear the glinting spears seemed nonsensical, but in close combat, the first to die was the one who closed their eyes in fear at the sight of the approaching spears, and those who would step forward and stab their enemies were the ones who would survive.
Finally, our soldiers’ spears clashed with the enemy’s.
“You insect-like bastards, die!”
“Yeah, I’ll knock off those thoughtless ornaments on your shoulders first!”
Our soldiers and those of Chekovia kept hurling insults and jabs at each other. In the midst of it all, the number of casualties began to increase without being able to distinguish who were the enemies and allies.
“Erich, I’m sorry… I couldn’t even earn enough for your tuition…”
“Ugh…”
Those who were stabbed in the neck or their vitals died with a single scream, while those stabbed elsewhere fell, uttering words filled with the remnant of their lives.
However, the soldiers from Chekovia were fatigued because they had been on high alert for a prolonged period and their reconnaissance.
When the strenuous hand-to-hand combat began, for every one of my soldiers that fell, around two to three of theirs died.
By this standard alone, it was a considerable victory compared to the other battalions around us.
But I was waiting for the battle to intensify even more, and thinking it was about time, I relayed the orders to turn the tables to the cavalry behind.
“Deploy the flail soldiers into enemy lines.”
The cavaliers signaled the flail soldiers with a blue flag, and they moved forward between our spear soldiers, chanting the unique rallying cry that I taught them.
“Earthenware! Earthenware! Let’s shatter the earthenware!”
After about three minutes, soldiers wielding flails began to infiltrate the frontlines, where our soldiers and the enemy spear soldiers were engaged in combat.
They skillfully parried enemy spears with their flails, and powerfully struck their arms, torsos, and heads.
“Die! You sons of dogs!”
“Let’s turn these brittle Chekovia bastards into minced meat.”
“If you want to die, come forth! I will kill you all!”
As our flail soldiers advanced, the formation of Chekovia had to simultaneously contend with our spear soldiers piercing them from a distance and our flail soldiers beating them at close range.
Even my infantry, which was trained for such situations, found coordination a bit challenging in a real battle, much less the unprepared soldiers of Chekovia.
Their spearmen, who had been containing us with their spears until a moment ago, were now either dying from the blows of the flails or were pierced by the spears.
In such a situation, the enemy battalion commander himself came to the frontlines, swinging his sword and shouting orders.
“Do not retreat! Soldiers in the rear, draw your swords to counter the flails! Spearmen, keep the enemy spearmen in check!”
He seemed quite competent.
The most effective way to counteract my strategy of disrupting the enemy lines with flails and pushing them back with spears was to maintain their spear defense on the frontlines and to intercept the infiltrators with their rear soldiers.
But in the chaotic melee, the competence of a single commander couldn’t overcome the challenging situation, so his orders were practically falling on deaf ears.
“If we are breached by the Reich Empire troops, it will cause significant damage to the entire regiment! Signalmen and hornblowers, send signals for support from the reserve infantry.”
Even if we are pushing the enemy battalion now, if their reserves arrive, we could be outnumbered again.
It seemed like he was trying to boost the morale of his battalion, which was on the brink of defeat, by instilling hope in them for the arrival of reserves.
“Relay the order to Lieutenant Werner, who has been on standby, to lead the knights and strike the enemy reserves immediately. Charge with lances to slow down the enemy’s reinforcements and immediately withdraw. Afterward, mount and strike the enemy infantry with flails.”
Upon my command, it didn’t take long for the twelve knights, including Werner, to start charging in a wedge formation with their lances raised.
This should delay the arrival of the enemy’s reinforcement.
The battalion in front of me was practically already crumbled, but I should still prepare just in case.
“Place all mages and crossbowmen to the left to prepare for the enemy knights’ attack. At the same time, our troops will now breach the enemy battalion and prepare to annihilate even their reserves!”
Let them have a taste of our might.
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