WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Abood

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◈ Friedrich's Battlefield

Chapter 105: The Battle of Novakia’s Border Defense (4)

A deafening roar split the air before Julius’s eyes. At the same instant came the shock. When he opened his eyes after flinching for a moment, the bodyguard knight who had shielded him was skewered clean through by a ballista bolt.

From atop the walls and from within the fortress itself came the sounds of destruction and cries of alarm. Looking around, Julius saw damage to both the walls and the buildings, as well as losses among the troops.

On the ramparts, several sections of the parapet had been shattered, and one of the mounted ballistae lay in ruins. Within the fortress, a ballista bolt had slammed into the wall of the main hall where headquarters was located.

Behind the gate, the unrecognizable remains of a soldier struck directly by a boulder could be seen. Arrows loosed from longbows stuck into the ground around the archer and stone-throwing units, and several unlucky men fell pierced.

The physical devastation was dire, but greater still was the psychological blow—that Fort Lecoa, the keystone of Vantor Fortress’s defense, was now firing upon the fortress itself. When Julius turned to the side in shock, he saw Paulina’s face contorted with both fury and astonishment.

“Focus only on the enemy before you! Do not let a single one into the fortress!”

“…D-do not falter! The damage is not so great!”

Hearing Paulina raise her voice, Julius too hastily spoke words of encouragement to the men. Yet their effect was slight.

Those upon the ramparts were shaken, unsettled, their focus on the battle clearly broken. Inside the fortress, the archers and stone-throwers continued their volleys in obedience to their commanders’ desperate orders, but the density of their fire had visibly diminished.

From Fort Lecoa, arrows from longbows came ceaselessly, and with pauses for reloading, stones from catapults and massive bolts from ballistae followed once more.

The second volley, its aim more finely adjusted, concentrated upon the ramparts. Direct hits from stones shattered one of the great cauldrons above the gate, and the scalding oil scattered over the soldiers below.

One of the stairways linking the ramparts and the fortress interior was half-destroyed, and a knight leaning from the parapet to push down an enemy ladder was pierced by a ballista bolt and toppled out of the fortress.

The overwhelming destructive power of the great engines disrupted the efforts of Novakia’s knights and soldiers to defend, and steadily stripped the fortress itself of its strength.

“Is there no way to strike back at Fort Lecoa from here!?”

“None! The ballistae on the walls cannot take the elevation needed to reach it, and our bows cannot reach that range either! When Fort Lecoa was built, no one imagined it could ever fall into enemy hands!”

Amid the din of battle and confusion, Julius shouted his question, and Paulina shouted her reply. Hearing it, Julius twisted his face in frustration.

The attacks from Fort Lecoa could reach Vantor Fortress itself. If the fort were ever to be seized by the enemy, it would become a threat to the fortress.

That much had been understood, at least in theory, from the time of its construction as one of the potential weaknesses of their defense.

Yet in the tangled terrain of the border mountains, there was no site better suited than the one chosen for Fort Lecoa to serve as a supporting stronghold for Vantor Fortress.

There could not exist some convenient position from which the fortress’s approaches could be struck without being able to strike the fortress itself.

Thus Fort Lecoa had been built under the premise that, given the surrounding cliffs, it could never be taken by the enemy.

Compared to Fort Lecoa which was ringed by cliffs, Vantor Fortress itself, facing the mountain roads, was considered far more likely to fall.

That the fortress could be struck from Fort Lecoa also meant that, should the fortress ever be seized, it could be supported by fire from Fort Lecoa during a counterattack. The royal family of that time judged that the advantage outweighed the drawback.

That judgment, after decades, had turned against them. The defenders of Vantor Fortress now suffered a relentless bombardment from Fort Lecoa with no means of reply.

A third coordinated volley from the catapults and ballistae rained down upon the fortress.

・・・・・・

“Ivar and his men seem to have done well. Their efforts must be rewarded later.”

From the headquarters, Childebert spoke in high spirits as he watched Fort Lecoa, until moments ago obstructing their assault, now raining stones and arrows down upon the Novakian forces defending Vantor Fortress.

No matter how strong a fortification, it was never designed to withstand direct attack from within its own perimeter. The defensive formation of Vantor Fortress was clearly beginning to crumble, and the infantry vanguard pressing from the front was now closer than ever to breaking through the walls.

“Then, Your Majesty. We shall move the assault to the next stage… But may the command for victory come from Your Majesty yourself.”

“Very well. That too is a sovereign’s duty.”

At Cecillia Fargiere’s words, Childebert nodded, took up the reins of his steed, and stepped forward several paces.

“Knights and soldiers, the pride of the royal house of Arelia!”

The knights and men-at-arms who had accompanied him from the royal domain to the borderlands, and who until now had been waiting in the rear of the formation, turned at once to his call.

“Your blow shall shatter the enemy’s defenses! Forward, advance!”

The elite troops answered the Lord’s command with sharp precision, advancing all at once.

“Patrick. I entrust the command of the King’s Armor to you.”

“As you command. We shall show you a battle worthy of our name.”

Responding firmly, Count Patrick Villeneuve departed from headquarters. The King’s Armor, a force of one thousand stationed at the rear of the host, moved under his command toward Vantor Fortress.

The defenders of Vantor Fortress, thrown into disarray by the bombardment from Fort Lecoa, were now struggling merely to hold back the approaching enemy.

Now, with a thousand more troops striking, Arelia’s finest elite, the outcome was certain. Advancing more swiftly than the infantry vanguard, they set ladders against the walls with flawless coordination. The knights and soldiers climbing them could not be fully repelled by the fortress garrison.

The first knight of the King’s Armor scaled the ladder. Brushing aside enemy attacks with his armor, he reached the ramparts at last.

At once, more soldiers ascended from other ladders. From several points, one after another, the fortress was breached.

Then, the battering ram struck against the gate.

The Novakian knights and soldiers upon the walls and above the gate, already battered by the furious assault from Fort Lecoa, could not stop the Arelian troops driving the ram forward. Many of the defensive installations had already been shattered by catapult stones and ballista bolts.

“…It will fall soon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Watching the ironclad defenses of Vantor Fortress crumble, Childebert spoke. Cecillia, as ever, nodded with a gentle smile.

・・・・・・

“Do not cease fighting! Keep your weapons swinging! If this line is broken, behind us lies our homeland itself!”

The walls, battered time and again by bombardment from Fort Lecoa. The unending rain of arrows. The mounting dead and wounded. The battering ram crashing into the gate, its impact shaking the ramparts.

As the situation grew ever more dire, Julius raised his voice. Upon the walls, where the enemy poured in one after another, he strove to encourage his men, surrounded by his guard knights.

Yet the crown prince’s effort bore no fruit. The enemy’s advance could no longer be stopped. The pounding of the ram against the gate was joined now by the groan and crack of wood splitting.

“…It is over. Your Highness, you must flee.”

With a bitter expression, Paulina spoke. Julius stood stunned for a moment, then shock spread across his face.

“What are you saying! My father the king appointed me as supreme commander of this fortress! How could I possibly abandon my duty and flee—”

“Your Highness!”

Paulina’s sharp rebuke, the voice of a seasoned soldier, carried far more weight and edge than the cries of the still-young Julius. And so he fell silent.

“Your Highness, Crown Prince Julius of Novakia, with your wisdom you must already know that Vantor Fortress can no longer hold. If that is so, then you also know what must come next.

Your life is not yours alone, it is the life that bears the future of the Kingdom of Novakia. Now you must take as many soldiers as you can and retreat to the rear, and carry the fate of this kingdom forward, if only until tomorrow.”

“…And what of you?”

Julius asked, his face showing his dismay. Paulina answered with a quiet smile.

“To lead the delaying battle, a commander must remain. In that case, it is naturally my duty.”

It was the smile of a warrior who had resolved herself to die. Considering her position and his own duty, Julius could not deny her decision.

“…Viscountess Paulina Varienfeld. As one of Novakia’s royal house, I will never forget your devotion. Your name shall be engraved in the history of the kingdom.”

Having said those words, Julius descended from the ramparts. More than once he looked back in guilt, but pressed on by his guard knights, he withdrew toward the rear.

Paulina gave him a flawless salute as she watched him go, then turned back to the battlefield. The defensive line was collapsing. Many of the conscripts, fragile in spirit, had fallen or fled.

The levies of the noble domains, held as reserves, were in such disarray within the fortress that they could not come forward. Still fighting were only the regular soldiers of the kingdom who had originally been under her command.

Their number was small, but each was a warrior with unshakable resolve, men fit to fall at her side.

“His Highness the Crown Prince has withdrawn to the rear! Fight to the last man, and buy even a single second more!”

Her voice rang across the entire length of the walls.

“This is our land! This is our fortress! Take pride in dying upon its stones! The souls of we warriors shall without fail be received into the presence of God!”

To the resounding cry of the woman who had long defended the borderlands, her warriors answered with beastlike roars of defiance.

No matter how many enemies swarmed onto the ramparts, they neither faltered nor surrendered.

A knight who cut down the foe before him kicked the corpse from the wall.

A soldier, run through the belly and knowing his end was at hand, clung to the enemy’s ladder on the rampart and dragged it down with himself.

At last the gate was shattered by the battering ram, and enemy soldiers poured in. Yet the knights and soldiers lying in wait behind the gate threw themselves upon them, fighting on without regard for their disadvantage in numbers, battling until their lives were spent.

Roughly an hour after the gate’s destruction, Vantor Fortress fell into enemy hands.

Through the desperate delaying fight of the soldiers of Novakia, Crown Prince Julius of Novakia, a handful of his guard, along with the levies of the noble domains and the surviving conscripts, succeeded in escaping the fortress and retreating to the rear.

Footnotes:

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