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Chapter 80

“Infantry, protect the crossbowmen and mages as much as possible!”

Clouds of dust became visible 300 to 400 meters ahead, with hundreds of mounted archers emerging in the distance.

The infantry, which was now visible, walked crookedly, unable to synchronize their steps.

The mounted archers, reminiscent of knights from the early Middle Ages, claimed the status of elite warriors, charging in a seamless single line.

They moved quickly and smoothly, as though they were one entity.

“Regiment, attention!”

At this command, each commander promptly echoed the call to attention.

“The enemy’s mounted archers are extremely sharp and powerful. However, as you have just seen, their numbers are few, and the rest are even worse than idiots searching for their mothers’ teats in a recruit training camp.”

The issue was that if those few braced themselves and released their arrows, picking off our advancing soldiers one by one, our troops might lose.

If any one of the units couldn’t hold out, they would start acting independently and recklessly pursue the enemy or exhibit strange behavior.

As such movements would increase, the enemy archers, holding swords in both hands, would move through the collapsed infantry formations, conducting a one-sided massacre.

“You’ve heard this many times, but if we avoid having fools who get struck by arrows and blindly charge forward, we will surely win. Therefore, any officer, non-commissioned officer, or soldier who acts without the Regiment Commander’s permission, for any reason, will be beheaded.”

However, these agile mounted archers carried limited armament, so if the infantry lowered their spears and maintained a defensive formation, it would be difficult for the enemy to even penetrate much less breakthrough.

Therefore, if we controlled any soldiers or units acting impulsively as I just mentioned, our best-armed forces wouldn’t be defeated just by standing by.

“If you follow my words, I will give you all the opportunity to lead a better life, just as I did in Chekovia and Bisochea. Everyone, don’t panic under their arrow attacks. Just withstand them. Then, the crossbowmen and mages will kill them.”

Even if they were fast, the unique shooting techniques of the barbaric mounted archers, primarily effective against infantry, would be severely limited since this place was covered in mud.

They formed a thin and long formation from the vanguard to the rear, seemingly charging at us.

When they reached the spot where they should shoot their arrows, they would shoot and then turn back to the end, attacking in a circular motion like a wheel.

As a result, our regiment faced the threat of annihilation here.

About five minutes after giving the command, I saw the dust raised by the 24th Regiment’s knight battalion on our left flank as they charged toward the enemy.

At the same time, judging by sight, the enemy’s central army and our infantry were close enough for arrows to reach.

“All troops, hold your spears at a 45-degree angle! Use your left arm to cover your faces!”

“Those who die from arrows among those in armor are the ones who didn’t protect their faces! Don’t worry if you can’t see in front of you! Just endure!”

“Just look at the back of the person in front of you! The spears won’t even reach anyway!”

The non-commissioned officers and officers swung their swords, ordering the soldiers to cover their faces.

We were now in a pincer formation, meaning we were being attacked by arrows from the front and both sides.

Although we had to adopt such tactics to win, when we found ourselves surrounded by the enemy from three directions, the soldiers and officers, including myself, experienced a fear beyond what we had imagined.

“Arrows are coming! Everyone cover your faces and duck down!”

“Argh!”

Then, the death cries of our soldiers, which had previously come from only the sides, began to come from the front, left, and right.

The face of the soldier next to me, who had roamed the North for about two years and possessed the combat experience of a typical rear unit non-commissioned officer, was etched with fear.

Had I not been in charge of the 24th Northern Army, but the troops I had led during my time in Raintlant, they would have likely attempted desertion, succumbing to fear and losing their rationality when faced with this situation.

By now, the unit would have descended into chaos, with soldiers falling to arrows, officers shouting commands to hold the line, and non-commissioned officers barking orders as they executed deserters with spears or swords.

But the crisis extended beyond that.

“Colonel, Colonel! They… they’re starting to retreat. The central enemy forces are gradually pulling back as our archers fire on them.”

Despite the dangerous situation, to capture these barbarians, one must be willing to risk their lives and enter their den.

Now, we must press forward as if deliberately walking into their jaws.

Should we hesitate, stop moving, or turn our backs like a child yearning for their mother, the 24th Regiment would face annihilation.

Had we not anticipated this scenario and prepared for it, the consequences would have been truly dire, leaving us bewildered and at a loss for action.

However, the situation was unfolding as predicted, and with countermeasures in place, if we continued as planned, wasn’t our victory secured?

“This is a scenario the Regiment Commander already foresaw. Just endure a little longer, and the enemy’s central army will be mercilessly crushed by us. So, remain quiet and keep advancing.”

With those words, I looked ahead and saw, amidst those in ragged clothing suitable only for serfs, brandishing farming tools like pitchforks, some fools, terrified by our unyielding formation that continued to advance like an indomitable mountain despite facing a relentless onslaught of arrows, were attempting to flee.

The enemy infantry, barbarians from the harsh wilderness of the North, surely trembled in fear as they saw us, unflinching despite hundreds or thousands of arrows, silently approaching.

No matter how much they thrived in the wild, they had only faced beasts like bears, and although a bear might occasionally stand against a human with a spear or fire, no crazed beast would ever charge through dozens of arrows to kill a human.

Moreover, while they fell easily to a single arrow, weren’t we advancing without dying, even under a torrent of arrows?

It was only natural for humans to experience great fear when facing an opponent superior to themselves or when confronted with a situation beyond their rational understanding.

“The infantry, who should still be suckling at their mothers’ teats, are so terrified of our 24th Regiment that they’re pissing themselves and trying to flee. Despite thousands of arrows, our side, clad in sturdy armor, has suffered few casualties. They may look intimidating, but in reality, they’re as harmless as paper tigers. Relay this to the entire unit.”

As I gave my command, the officers of each unit interpreted and conveyed it in their own style.

“The Regiment Commander says the barbarian infantry are thinking only of wetting themselves and running away!”

“Are we going to be scared of scoundrels worse than dogs? I believe there will be no cowards among us.”

“The scariest thing is their arrows, but they’ve hardly killed anyone! If you turn back and run now, you’re as good as dead.”

Those who spoke with formality and gravity were likely officers from noble families who had graduated from the academy, while those from non-commissioned officer schools spoke with more rash language.

All these words seemed to instill some courage in the soldiers.

“Long live the Reich Empire, long live the 24th Regiment, long live our Regiment Commander!”

“Let’s slaughter the barbarians and avenge our fallen comrades. You filthy curs, here we come!”

“Let’s go avenge our fallen comrades!”

All the soldiers shouted loudly. We were moving faster toward the enemy’s retreating infantry than they could withdraw.

Even so, we hadn’t closed in enough for our spears to reach them.

The expressions, morale, and current state of the untrained enemy infantry were blatantly apparent.

Some were pale and overwhelmed with the fear of death, sobbing and sniveling.

Behind them, those who appeared to be non-commissioned officers or officers were threatening with swords and weapons.

They were probably saying something like,

“You have two choices: die fighting the enemy here or run and die by my sword. In the former case, your family will receive compensation, but if you’re a coward and cut down by me here, your family will be enslaved!”

Now, it was time for Captain Werner of the knight battalion to start striking at the soft heads of the enemy’s central army.

“Redirect the crossbowmen and mages of the Marco battalion to support my direct battalion in front, and the rest of the crossbowmen and mages to rear support. The enemy’s cavalry will soon target our rear.”

As soon as he had spoken, I saw a fireball shoot into the sky from the rear of the enemy’s central army, clearly visible from my position.

And the meaning of that signal was clear…

It meant that Werner’s knights had successfully charged and penetrated the enemy’s rear.

Victory was now assured.

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