WeTried Translations

Translator: Nemui

Editor: Nemui

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◈ Friedrich's Battlefield

Chapter 151: Decisive Battle (11)

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The Ferdinand Regiment broke through the vanguard of the enemy unit that stood before them. The Black Crossbows used as their trump card to collapse the enemy defense achieved the expected result, and in the gap created by the disruption of the enemy spear wall, the cavalry unit led by Oliver cut in and smashed through the formation.

Enemy commander Count Cecilia Fargiere had probably died as well, though this had not been confirmed. Through a gap in the cavalry unit racing ahead, Friedrich caught sight for only a few moments of someone who seemed to be the count beneath the flag of House Fargiere. The next instant, he could no longer see her, and she had been swallowed by their charge along with her direct guard.

Even after their commander was neutralized that way, the survivors of the enemy unit did not easily stop resisting. Judging from their equipment, they seemed to be soldiers of the old Kingdom of Loire army. As one would expect of Count Fargiere's direct unit, they were well trained and full of morale. Though the vanguard that formed the spear wall had collapsed and they had lost the general behind it, the knights and soldiers farther behind still continued fighting to stop the charge.

Fleeing weak soldiers struck in the flank were not even enemies, but against elites who stood in their way from the front prepared to die, even a cavalry unit could not fight easily. They would not lose, but with only around one hundred riders, they lacked the destructive force to make the breakthrough easy.

From behind the cavalry unit, Friedrich could tell that the momentum of the mounted charge was slowing, and the dense formation had begun to lose shape.

At the head of the line, cavalry battalion commander Oliver kept fighting desperately to somehow crush the enemy resistance.

"It is only a final struggle! Destroy them and advance! We have no time to stop here!"

Roaring, Oliver made full use of the advantage of cavalry and defeated the enemy soldier before him. He dodged the point of a thrusting spear, controlled his beloved horse to trample the enemy soldier who held it, then swung his sword down and split another enemy soldier's head. He spotted several archers forming a small line to fire a volley and charged into them, scattering them before the arrows could be released.

The other knights also neutralized the enemy soldiers standing in their way one after another. Because heavy knights had been placed in the front rank, the cavalry unit's losses themselves were small, but the enemy resistance still did not stop, and they struggled to advance.

The knights made their horses rampage, swung weapons from the saddle, and tried somehow to open a breakthrough. One among them, Knight Gunther, also swung a large sword with ease and unleashed attacks like a storm, scattering the enemy group in front of him.

The next instant, a spear thrust from a slight blind spot near his feet on the right grazed the left side of his face. He thought he had been lucky and the enemy's surprise attack had missed, but the enemy soldier who thrust the spear twisted his body to the left and swung the spear, striking Gunther's torso with the shaft.

Receiving a blow backed by body weight, then being pushed by the spear shaft, Gunther lost his posture. He fell from his horse and rolled across the ground.

"Tch!"

Gunther did not stay down for long. He immediately stood, and since he had dropped his sword when he fell from the horse, he drew his spare dagger. Then he faced the enemy soldier who closed in to finish him off after knocking him down.

Unexpectedly, the enemy soldier did not seem to be one of Count Fargiere's men. Apparently he had happened to be nearby and joined the fighting, and judging by his equipment, he was not a regular soldier. But from the skill with which he had knocked a knight from horseback, and the strangely battle-hardened way he used his spear, he was no mere conscript either.

A mercenary? Or perhaps some kind of volunteer with military experience.

He was not a weak soldier, and the difference in weapon reach put Gunther at a disadvantage. Even so, he was no match for Gunther.

"Deaaaaaaaaah!"

When Gunther raised an angry shout and showed a charging posture, the enemy soldier tried to stop him and thrust his spear up from a low stance. It was a fairly sharp thrust, but Gunther calmly dodged it, grabbed the shaft, and broke it by striking it with his dagger through sheer force.

Then he slammed his body into the enemy soldier and dragged him down. He raised the dagger and stabbed it into the center of the man's chest.

He felt the clear response of a fatal wound.

The enemy soldier looked up at him with a stunned expression, then opened his mouth.

"...Are you Gunther?"

Hearing his name, Gunther's face turned suspicious. He looked back at the enemy soldier's face, and his expression became even more doubtful.

"Father?"

The man he had just stabbed was far older than when Gunther had left home, but on closer inspection, he was his real father.

Gunther had run away from his hometown in the Kingdom of Myurei, used the combat skills and horsemanship taught to him by his former mercenary father, become a mercenary himself, and thought that tie had been severed forever. He had never imagined they would meet again by chance in the middle of a battlefield.

"Why are you in a place like this?"

"Could not bear the Arelian king's heavy taxes, and the reward lured me in as a volunteer. If an old man like me died, worst case, my family would not be troubled... You were alive."

"Yeah. I became a knight. I have a wife and child too."

When Gunther answered, his old father smiled, somehow happily.

"I see. Then that is enough."

His father murmured that, and the sign of life vanished from his eyes.

Gunther pulled out the dagger and stood. He looked around and picked up his sword where it had fallen.

"Hey, Gunther, you all right?"

The one who approached and called down from horseback was Knight Yarg. In his right hand were the reins of the horse he rode. In his left hand were the reins of Gunther's horse.

"I am fine."

"Then let us go. We have no time to dawdle here."

Gunther nodded at Yarg's words, took the reins of his large beloved horse, which seemed to have fortunately survived unharmed, and quickly mounted.

Then, lastly, he looked back at his father's corpse.

He felt no regret or guilt. Once blades crossed on the battlefield, personal matters no longer mattered. As a former mercenary, who had sometimes fought acquaintances and friends, he could accept that. His father, also a former mercenary, must have been the same.

He had never intended to meet him again, but this strange reunion and the chance to exchange words one last time at the end were, well, not bad.

They were in the middle of battle. By the time he faced forward again, Gunther was thinking only of the fight.

......

The Ferdinand Regiment cavalry unit continued grinding down the stubborn resistance of the enemy unit standing in their way.

Gunther, who had once fallen from his horse, returned to mounted combat. Centered around battalion commander Oliver's direct platoon, which still had every member safe, one hundred riders forced enemies aside, trampled them, and cut them down through sheer power.

It did not take long after that for Count Fargiere's unit, which had continued its final resistance, to suffer too many losses to maintain its lines and finally collapse entirely. Organized resistance was no longer possible. Their morale broke, and they scattered helplessly, becoming part of the mob.

"They finally scattered... What now, battalion commander? Reform and charge again?"

Asked by Yarg, Oliver looked ahead and his expression sharpened.

"No. We will reform, but as for another charge, we ask the regimental commander."

The Ferdinand Regiment had already lost the momentum of its first charge. Count Fargiere's elite unit, which could be called the regiment's sworn enemy, had been annihilated, but had succeeded in stopping their charge.

They were already in the middle of an extremely confused battlefield. They could not take their time preparing another charge, and even if they charged now, they would not have the same breakthrough power as before.

Furthermore, perhaps noticing their approach because of the fierce fighting on the left flank, the formation of the Armor of the King surrounding Childebert was shifting to the left, in other words toward their front. From this situation, it would probably be impossible to break through the enemy's most elite unit in one breath. If they took time to break through, Childebert would escape.

"It seems the Arelian king's unit has finished preparing to meet us. The resistance of the Loire elites had meaning after all."

While the cavalry unit hurriedly reformed its broken ranks under Oliver's command, regimental commander Friedrich advanced from behind and spoke while looking toward the enemy. Behind Friedrich stood Gregor and Yurika.

"What shall we do, Regimental Commander?"

"...We have come this far. We have fulfilled the role we needed to fulfill."

Friedrich answered Oliver's question calmly.

Friedrich had anticipated in advance that this might happen. It would have been best if they could slay Childebert with the flank attack, but even if they were stopped like this, there was no problem.

Count Fargiere could not have failed to consider that the forest on the north side of the battlefield, and the left flank of the vanguard facing it, would become the greatest uncertain factor. After sending a surprise unit to eliminate the ambush hidden in the forest, she would prepare for failure by personally guarding her lord Childebert's left flank, ready to respond directly no matter what happened. Friedrich would have done so in her place.

Just as Friedrich predicted, she had stood in their way with her direct unit and become prey for their charge. Their charge had been stopped, but the enemy general they most needed to watch was removed from the battle.

Furthermore, seeing Friedrich's approach and the hard fight of Count Fargiere's unit, the Armor of the King had weighted its strength toward the left flank. Relatively speaking, the defense in front of Childebert and on his right flank had thinned.

"We leave the rest to Diethelm. He will do it."

Looking toward the opposite side of the battlefield, the southern edge, Friedrich murmured with a smile.

At the left edge of the Kingdom of Edelstein's formation, the cavalry unit led by Diethelm Brightkreuz, preserved until now, could be seen in the distance charging in from the right flank of the enemy vanguard.

It was the final move toward victory.

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