Ch.250Sudden stop

The fundamental elements that determine victory or defeat in battle are the number of troops, individual combat ability, and the morale of the entire army.

Even if a brilliant strategist attempts to reverse the situation with extraordinary tactics, they must satisfy at least one of these conditions to achieve victory.

Numerically inferior, with low morale, and poor quality troops?

Rather than wasting time contemplating impossible operations, it would be better to draft an elegant surrender document.

This time was no different.

—-

“For Landenburg!”

Nigel’s spear, shot like an arrow, pierces through the necks of enemies in succession.

Though somewhat lacking in power, her spear technique possessed a precision that others found difficult to even imitate.

“The gods are watching over us! Fight with your divine spirit!”

Richar, clad in armor of holy light, charges forward like a tank.

The enemies’ spears and swords bounce off helplessly, followed by bombardment from his holy spear that slaughters them.

“We can’t lose to those eastern fellows! Witness the soul of the North!”

Rihart, a knight of the Duchy of Faelrun, swings his serrated greatsword in all directions.

True to northerners who rarely employ cavalry, his horsemanship was somewhat clumsy, but this wasn’t a weakness.

The unforgivingly harsh northern climate had forged each knight into someone incredibly tough.

Dozens of cavalrymen, torn to shreds, fly into the air spraying blood and flesh.

Rihart’s sword wasn’t cutting through enemy bodies but violently ripping them apart by the flesh.

Just grazing the abdomen was enough to tear off the entire belly skin, with intestines being pulled out like ropes caught on the saw-toothed blade.

Those who fell to his hands had to endure terrible agony for a long time instead of dying peacefully.

Thirteen Masters dominated the battlefield, demonstrating unparalleled military might.

Fighting alone might be one thing, but Master-level knights charging through the battlefield alongside allies were each weapons surpassing hundreds of heavy cavalry.

The Masters of Ernst’s army, who should have somehow blocked them, had their heads cut off one after another like harvest-time barley by a single woman.

“Aaaaargh!”

The tide of battle turns in an instant.

The exponentially growing disparity in forces. Ernst’s troops now had to fight one against five enemies. No, against ten.

Naturally, this was an impossible task.

“How are we supposed to defeat these bastards!”

A cavalryman crying out in frustration gets torn apart, his body embracing multiple spears.

Less than 10 minutes into the melee, the only screams echoing across the battlefield were those from Ernst’s army.

“I surrender! I surren—”

Before the knight desperately throwing down his weapon could finish, several swords fly in, dismembering his limbs.

The time for accepting surrender had already passed. Only annihilation remained.

The situation had already become less of a battle and more like a hunt.

There was no unexpected turn of events.

The two thousand heavy cavalry that had surged forward like a wave were shattered like breaking spray.

…The problem was what came next.

“Uwaaaaaaaah!”

Despite the annihilation of knights and heavy cavalry, the conscripts were still charging forward, each clutching nothing but a single spear.

Twenty-four thousand.

It was truly a human wall that seemed to fill the entire horizon.

In reality, they were closer to a sandcastle that would crumble at the slightest touch.

Their faces were pale with fear and despair, but they still showed no intention of surrendering.

An incomprehensible fighting spirit.

I understand why the lords at the rear are approaching.

They had no choice since they would be shot by their own side’s arrows if they remained still.

But why were the conscripts at the front still trying to fight?

Even though they clearly knew they would die!

…I needed to know the reason.

Before Leopold gave the order to attack.

I rushed toward them.

“Heavy cavalry! Return to the main force! Resupply with lances and regroup! Archers prepare to fire!”

“Paladins, follow Lord Median! We must stop them!”

Two different orders falling one after another.

It was a moment that starkly revealed the difference between knights and paladins.

=======

The conscripts Isabella had gathered.

She had mobilized every able-bodied man, so among them were children without even a trace of beard, and middle-aged men with graying hair.

Their appearance, charging forward without even maintaining formation, was too pathetic to even call them soldiers.

All they had to protect themselves were crude quilted garments and worn-out armor inherited from family members, with a single spear as their only weapon.

Moreover, the only training they had received was how to thrust a spear forward.

There was no one who valued themselves more than their family, no one with enough mental strength to harbor rebellious thoughts against orders to die.

Such people had already been weeded out long ago.

Those who remained were essentially slaves bound by the witch’s terror.

Or perhaps they were good people who valued their families’ safety more than their own lives. It was impossible to distinguish now.

They ran without stopping toward the field full of corpses.

With tear-filled faces, screaming cries that sounded like wails.

Though their breath reached their throats and their trembling legs felt like they would collapse, they couldn’t stop.

Those who slowed even slightly collided with people behind them, falling and becoming like minced meat.

It was impossible to escape to the side and surrender like the cavalry had done.

The moment they turned sideways, they would immediately trip and fall, trampled by others.

“Uwaaaaaaah!”

A cry resembling the howl of a beast.

Cry calling forth cry, the anguished roars of twenty-four thousand shook the entire world.

It was a terribly horrific chorus.

—-

When they first advanced, they clearly held thoughts of saving their families.

However, by this point, their minds were completely empty.

The battlefield approaching before their eyes. The fear of death.

The physical state causing dizziness from labored breathing robbed them of reason.

Panic.

They ran, forgetting their purpose and losing their sense of reality.

They were already in a state similar to wind-up dolls with only the function of running forward remaining.

Even if they collided with Leopold’s army, they would likely charge with their bodies rather than thrust with their spears.

In front of them, a single woman on horseback blocked their way.

Since they had eyes and ears, they could recognize who she was.

Median, descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights.

The strongest knight on earth who had defeated the Empire’s First Sword.

However, none of them could think of the word “knight” when they saw her.

To the eyes of the conscripts who were merely ordinary farmers, that being didn’t even appear human, let alone a knight.

In the retinas of these men, Aishan-Gioro appeared as a monster, waving bloody tentacles and exuding ferocity as if about to burn the entire world.

Something huge and pitch-black, whose form couldn’t even be discerned.

That was how Haschal appeared in the eyes of the conscripts.

Like an ancient legendary dragon, a calamity that destroys castles, burns cities, and collapses gorges.

Such a being stood before them.

Brilliantly blooming the flames of karma.

A crimson flame spread like a curtain.

The hellish flames that would melt anything they touched blocked their path.

Even if one has lost their reason and runs toward death, no one would charge into a clearly visible pit of fire.

Avoiding the heat of fire is an instinct of living beings.

…The problem was that they themselves could no longer stop running.

The conscripts at the front who stopped their steps disappeared as if being sucked in.

The next row, and the next. Like dominoes, the formation of conscripts collapsed one after another.

Like lemmings rushing toward a cliff.

By the time they finally stopped, thousands had already been trampled to death.

======[Haschal]======

……

It was an unspeakably horrific sight.

[ …I told you it was impossible. ]

The idea of raising karma flames to temporarily stop their charge.

I tried it because there was no other way… but the result was terrible. Even the approaching paladins were shocked.

Blood flows like a river from thousands of bodies trampled to death.

The red river was filled with pieces of burst intestines.

A stench so strong it made me dizzy stung my nostrils.

Yes, I understood it in my head.

That this was the best method.

As Hersella said, there was no way to stop a charge of this scale without casualties.

Perhaps ending with just a few thousand was actually the best possible outcome.

If we had tried another method and failed to stop them, many times more might have died.

But still…

Was this really the best we could do?

…I don’t know.

[ Why are you agonizing? Those who were trampled to death were people who couldn’t have survived anyway. Rather, you should be proud of stopping them with minimal casualties. What’s important is what happens next. ]

‘…Right. That’s true.’

Hersella offered words that weren’t quite comfort.

As she said, this wasn’t the time to be distressed. We may have stopped them for now, but we don’t know when they might charge again.

Before that happens, I needed to somehow get them to surrender or persuade them.