WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Abood

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Friedrich's Battlefield

Chapter 95: Stalling for Time (3)

“Tch, what now?!”

Just as the fallen jaegers began to rise and resume their charge, Ivar cursed under his breath upon seeing several rough sacks being hurled from the enemy’s formation.

The sacks, left untied, scattered what looked like a white powder as they flew through the air.

Reflexively, Ivar swung his machete, slashing through a sack that had been falling toward his head. The split sack burst open, releasing a cloud of powder that filled his vision with white.

The other sacks struck heads or were knocked aside by blades, all releasing the same fine dust.

“GAHH!”

“What is this stuff?!”

“Damn it, now they’re trying to blind us?!”

Coughing, snorting, and swearing filled the air as men shielded their eyes and cursed through the powder.

Ivar, who had instinctively shut one eye when the dust burst around him, now covered the still-clear eye with his hand as he glared toward the enemy line. A bit of the powder had gotten into his mouth, just enough for him to realize it was likely flour.

Then, something else came flying from the enemy formation.

This time, it was a glass bottle. A cloth stuffed in the neck, already burning.

Just from the sight of it, Ivar understood what it was.

In the cold northern regions, distillation was common for surviving the winter. The resulting spirits were highly flammable and sometimes repurposed as weapons. While glass was rare and valuable in the north where ceramic jars were more typical, there was no mistaking the intent.

“It’s a fire attack! Spread out—!”

But the bottle was already mid-flight, arcing toward them. Most of the jaegers hadn’t noticed it, let alone realized what it contained. Ivar’s warning came far too late.

The bottle shattered with a sharp crack as it landed among them.

A moment later, a massive fireball erupted, engulfing Ivar and his entire unit in roaring flames.

・・・・・・

“…A dust explosion. Can’t believe it actually worked.”

“I’m just as surprised, to be honest.”

As the massive fireball engulfed the enemy formation and gasps spread through the knights, Friedrich exchanged words with Chester, who stood at the center of the front line.

When flammable powder is suspended in the air and then ignited, the flame rapidly spreads through the airborne particles, causing an explosive combustion. It was something Friedrich had only read about in battle accounts and old tales, said to be theoretically possible. He had decided to try it. And it worked.

The flour cloud that had covered the enemy was instantly incinerated, and the explosion quickly died down. The flames, while dramatic, didn’t carry massive raw destructive power. 

But some of the enemy soldiers had caught fire, hair, clothes, or leather armor burning, thrashing and rolling to extinguish it. Others, even if untouched by flame, seemed too stunned by the heat wave to recover immediately.

Friedrich and his men did not waste the opening.

“Charge!”

At his shout, the knights surged forward all at once, crashing into the still-reeling enemy ranks.

Caught off guard, the front line of the jaegers was swiftly overwhelmed.

One soldier, coughing from the scorched air and unable to grab his weapon in time, was cut down where he stood. Another raised his machete in a desperate attempt to fight back, only to have his arm severed in a flash. 

A third, struggling just to open his eyes, threw up a shaky guard, only for the knight’s sword to slip past it and slice open his abdomen.

Riding the momentum of their assault, the knights spread out to both flanks, forming a partial encirclement and pushing the enemy back into its center while neutralizing them one by one.

But the time where they could cut down enemy soldiers unopposed didn’t last long. From within the pressed ranks of the enemy, one man suddenly surged forward.

Barking orders as he moved to the offensive was a man who appeared to be the commander of the enemy force. Responding to his voice, those who had recovered from the shock of the flames, or those in the rear who had taken minimal damage had begun to counterattack.

With that, Friedrich’s side was once again forced into a numerically disadvantaged fight. The remaining enemy soldiers still outnumbered them more than two to one. Even with superior gear, that kind of headcount was hard to overcome. 

Holding the line and barely stopping them from breaking through became the best they could manage.

Among the enemy, the commander’s strength stood out clearly. Even Friedrich could tell that Yurika, now locked in combat with him, was being steadily pushed back.

Just then, Gregor moved in to assist her, and the fight evened out. That it took two of the most skilled knights in the Ferdinand Regiment just to reach parity showed how formidable this enemy commander was.

At this point, Friedrich’s role was clear. While the enemy commander kept Yurika and Gregor pinned, Friedrich focused on the soldiers who slipped past the line.

He fired his crossbow at one that broke through, taking him down cleanly. With no time to reload, he hurled the crossbow itself at another soldier who had slipped by, then charged with his sword.

The wooden frame of the crossbow struck the enemy square in the face, staggering him just long enough for Friedrich’s blade to plunge into his throat. 

The cut didn’t fully sever the head, but must have sliced a major artery. Blood sprayed from the wound as the man collapsed, eyes wide, soaked in his own blood.

It was the first time Friedrich had clearly and decisively killed an enemy in close combat.

“Fall back!”

At Friedrich’s command, the knights began to pull back.

They had bought enough time. It should have been acceptable to retreat now. But the reality was that the moment they showed their backs, they would be slaughtered. That was how fierce the enemy’s assault had become. 

The idea of finding a gap in the battle and slipping away after stalling the enemy was a fantasy, one they quickly realized once they were truly fighting. There wasn’t even time to glance back and assess the situation, let alone run.

They would have to continue retreating slowly, bit by bit, holding out until the reinforcements arrived.

“The reinforcements should be here any moment! Hold the line until then!”

“If you survive, we win! This is the final push!”

“Do not falter! Show them the pride of Imperial knights!”

Oliver and Chester followed Friedrich’s lead, shouting to rally the men. The knights responded with everything they had left, now fighting on sheer will alone.

Yurika and Gregor remained locked in combat with the enemy commander. As other enemy soldiers tried to circle around and strike at their flanks or backs, Friedrich did everything he could to keep them at bay, shielding the pair from interference. 

He couldn’t take down the skilled jaegers outright, but he managed to drive them off just enough to buy breathing room.

Then the enemy commander made his move.

With a burst of power, he leapt and kicked Yurika aside, then used the recoil from that strike to spin and roll toward Gregor’s blind spot, his flank.

Faster than Yurika could recover and counter. Faster than Gregor could turn and brace.

From a low crouch, the commander swung his machete upward with brutal precision. The blade struck Gregor’s right arm dead-on.

“Ghh!”

Gregor cried out as the blade sliced deep through the gap in his armor, cutting into his arm and forcing him to drop his sword. The enemy commander moved in to finish him off, but Friedrich didn’t give him the chance. He charged forward and slammed into him with full force.

With the full weight of Friedrich’s armored body behind the hit, the enemy commander was sent flying.

As the enemy rolled back to recover his stance, Yurika stepped between him and the heavily wounded Gregor. Sword raised, she stood firm.

But she couldn’t hold him off alone, not for long. And Friedrich knew even if he stepped in, he wouldn’t stand a chance against a foe who’d overwhelmed even Gregor. They couldn’t contain this one any longer.

All across the battlefield, the tide had turned against them. Their formation was clearly breaking, casualties were mounting, and the partial encirclement had collapsed. Some enemy soldiers had begun to slip around their flanks and were advancing past the knights entirely.

Is this it? Friedrich thought. Is this where we fall?

Then, a young enemy soldier ran up to the commander’s side and said something. Friedrich couldn’t hear what was said, but the commander glared his way, issued an order to those around him, and then raised a strange instrument to his lips. He bit down on it. It looked like some sort of whistle.

Friedrich heard nothing, but the man was clearly blowing into it.

Immediately, the jaegers stopped fighting, turned, and began to run.

One after another, they disengaged, pulling their wounded with them. Even those who had broken through the line and pushed forward were now retreating, doubling back past the knights, making no effort to continue the assault.

The enemy soldiers fled along the road for a time, then vanished one by one into the forest.

“…Why did they pull out?”

“…Who knows?”

Chester muttered in disbelief, and Friedrich returned the look with a blank expression. Freed so suddenly from the tension of battle, his mind couldn’t catch up right away.

The other knights stood half-stunned, watching the retreating jaegers disappear. Some stood there breathing heavily with mouths agape, others frowned in confusion or tilted their heads.

In the silence that followed, Friedrich slowly caught his breath, and his thoughts began to clear. A possibility came to mind, and he turned to look behind him.

That’s when he saw it. What had not been visible at the start of the battle was now clearly within sight: the allied reinforcements.

Down the road beyond the hill, the Imperial knights escorting Melinda and Claire were just about to merge with the oncoming force.

It clicked. The enemy had seen both their intended prey and the advancing reinforcements, and realized their mission could no longer be completed. That’s why they chose to retreat.

Some of the reinforcements stayed behind to protect Melinda and Claire. The rest continued forward, heading toward Friedrich’s position. Mounted knights climbed the hill, at their head rode Matthias.

Leading dozens of Royal Army knights, his foster father approached. Friedrich stood and saluted.

“Friedrich. You held out well. It’s over now.”

Matthias pulled his horse to a stop in front of him, looking down as he spoke.

Footnotes: 

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