WeTried Translations
Translator: Nemui
Editor: Nemui
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◈ Friedrich's Battlefield
Chapter 146: Decisive Battle (6)
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The north side of the battlefield. Forward and to the right as seen from the Kingdom of Edelstein's formation.
In the forest facing the left flank of the Kingdom of Arelia's vanguard, the Ferdinand Regiment led by Friedrich lay hidden.
Near the head of the column that had melted into the trees, Friedrich observed the battlefield.
Not only conscripts but also the elite units of the regular army, beginning with the Armor of the King that had been in the rear, had advanced into the enemy vanguard. Because they were moving as if threading their way between the conscripts, the boundaries between units were beginning to blur.
And in the middle of that vanguard was the hegemon king, King Childebert Arelia. The Armor of the King surrounding him, especially the knights of his direct guard, were holding together and maintaining their formation as expected, but they seemed to be struggling to advance through the extreme congestion in the ranks.
Watching that, Friedrich smiled quietly.
The time had come.
"Bring the carriages forward."
"Bring the carriages out of the forest! All three of them!"
When he gave the order as regimental commander, his adjutant Captain Gregor relayed it in a loud voice.
Then the three carriages that had been hidden in the forest began to move.
They were modified carriages with a bizarre appearance. They were not meant to carry cargo. The two-wheeled body pulled by a single packhorse was small, with only a driver's seat. From that body, several poles extended forward on both sides of the horse. Cloth and fur had been fastened to the body and poles, forming walls with strange patterns that covered the carriage's sides.
At the tips of the poles was a wooden mask large enough to easily surpass a person's height. It was no human mask. A mask with a terrifying face like a devil had been painted red and decorated the front of the carriage.
An eerie face that stirred the instinctive fear in human beings. It had been created under direct royal order by an artist praised as the finest in the royal capital Sankt Waltrude, a city also known for its culture.
Beneath the devil mask, large sled runners had been attached instead of wheels. On the ground along the carriages' path, stones and tree roots that might become obstacles had been removed ahead of time, and the earth had been leveled to a degree.
The large packhorses advanced powerfully, planting their hooves into the ground as if the weight of the devil masks, the carriage bodies, and the riders meant nothing. Three carriages. Three enormous faces appeared on the battlefield from within the forest. Their figures were like monsters crawling over the ground, clad in mottled hides.
"The flags."
When Friedrich gave another order, that too was conveyed at once, and several knights emerged from the forest beside the carriages while raising flags. Marked on them was the crest of House Hosenfeld. The design was a Nouzenharen. In the language of flowers, it meant loyalty and victory.
The enormous, terrifying devil masks and the many flags raised high.
The conscripts at the left edge of the Kingdom of Arelia's vanguard noticed the group immediately because it stood out far too much.
"H-hey, what is that!?"
"Flags! Those are Count Hosenfeld's flags!"
The Nouzenharen design.
The people of eastern Loire, who made up many of the conscripts, knew that it was the flag of House Hosenfeld.
The late hero, Count Matthias Hosenfeld, had been a fearsome enemy to the people of the Loire region, the eastern part of the old Kingdom of Loire. In the great battle on the Beiral Plains more than twenty years ago, many conscripts had been mobilized, and they had witnessed Matthias's tremendous fighting with their own eyes.
Anyone from eastern Loire had at least one or two relatives, friends, or acquaintances who knew Matthias's terror firsthand. Some had been on that battlefield themselves and knew it directly.
For that reason, the crest of House Hosenfeld was well known among the people of eastern Loire.
If you were mobilized for war and saw a flag with that flower on the battlefield, run. Beneath that flag was the terrifying Count Hosenfeld. If you valued your life, stay away. Everyone had taught each other that. Even those who had still been young at the time, or who had not yet been born, had grown up being taught so by their parents' generation.
The moment they saw those many flags raised high, many of the conscripts understood who the owner of those flags was.
And fear seized them by reflex.
"Why!? Wasn't Count Hosenfeld dead!?"
"Even if the count died, he had an heir! That adopted son!"
"That one? The man rumored to be the Yudit devil who came down from the mountains?"
"Th-then that stupidly huge devil face is..."
They remembered the rumors about the adopted son Count Matthias Hosenfeld had taken in several years ago.
A borderland orphan suddenly discovered by the hero. Some said his true identity was a devil that had come down from the Yudit Mountains and disguised itself as a human.
Before this decisive battle, figures that seemed to be the Yudit devil had also been seen frequently near the foot of the mountains.
Now the flag of House Hosenfeld had appeared on the battlefield. The one raising it was likely the Yudit devil who had inherited the house. Beneath the flag was an incomprehensible writhing object fitted with a terrifying devil mask.
All the stories connected.
The next instant after they thought that, the devil mask spat fire.
From the enormous mouth of that enormous red devil face, red flames were spewed out with a roaring sound. All three devil faces spat fire, each of them in turn.
The conscripts had already been forced to fight while driven forward from behind. Extreme tension had only heightened their emotions, while fatigue from battle and fear of death had greatly weakened their morale. At that point, they saw the flag of House Hosenfeld, an object of awe and dread. Then they remembered all the rumors about Matthias's adopted son and the Yudit devil, and before their eyes, enormous devil faces spat fire.
That alone was more than enough to make them panic.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
"The devil is here! The Yudit devil is here!"
"Run! Ruuuun!"
What was that?
A devil's vehicle? A monster used by devils? No, was that the true form of a devil, and they had simply never known it? Had the Yudit devil that disguised itself as a human called its companions? Had the Kingdom of Edelstein joined hands with the Yudit devil who had become the new Count Hosenfeld, borrowing the power of devils to win this war?
If the devil attacked them, how would they be killed? Perhaps they would die in a way so cruel that death by blade or arrow would seem gentle. Perhaps they would be eaten alive, torn apart, have their blood drunk, be burned, and then die.
They were afraid of that thing.
It was no longer a matter of reason. The nightmare-like sight awakened instinctive fear. That fear stirred delusions, those delusions birthed new fear, and countless fears wrapped around the conscripts from eastern Loire.
"It's the Yudit devil! There is a devil over there! It is coming this way!"
"Run! Run! At this rate, we'll be eaten! We'll be burned alive! Hurry and run!"
"You are in my way! Move from there! I said move!"
First, the men at the left edge of the vanguard, who had directly witnessed the devil masks spit fire, fell into complete panic and began fleeing to the right side of the formation. They cried and screamed that a devil was coming, that the devil would kill them.
The men who heard them checked the left side from which those shouting soldiers were fleeing, saw the fearsome flag and the eerie devil faces spewing flames, and likewise fell into panic, beginning to flee in the same way.
Even those farther to the right of the formation, in positions where they could no longer see either the flags or the devil faces, and even those who were not from eastern Loire and barely knew of the Yudit devil to begin with, only had to hear the words shouted by dozens and hundreds of their allies and see those men surging toward them in terror. Without understanding why, they fell into the same state. Something terribly frightening had apparently attacked, even if they did not understand what it was. Swept up by the panic of the crowd, they too panicked.
Conscripts were, in other words, ordinary people who had merely been mobilized.
When the emotions of ordinary people ran high, a single trigger could send them all flowing in one direction at once. In a crowd, it spread easily.
Excitement did.
And fear did too.
Through the Kingdom of Arelia's army, through the conscripts of its vanguard, fear spread from left to right.
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