Chapter 98: The Mercenary King and the Madwoman 5

The Imperial armies momentarily faltered from Mansfelt and his elite guards’ tenacious resistance.

Yet this reprieve proved fleeting and localized.

With nearly 40,000 troops arrayed against Mansfelt and Christiane’s diminished forces – excluding the 10,000 engaged inside Münster – their dominance rapidly reasserted itself across the battlefield.

“Slay those fiends!”

“Wicked demons who butchered innocents! Enact divine judgment in God’s name!”

“For justice!”

Without hesitation, Imperial soldiers cut down the mercenaries and Christiane’s forces.

Though wearied from their long march, the Imperial armies retained decisive numerical and formational advantages over their scattered, outnumbered foes.

“Face God’s judgment, vile heretical spawn!”

At the vanguard, General Tilly unleashed azure flames to scythe through the mercenary ranks.

His ferocious onslaught, like that of a ravenous beast, naturally drew the eyes of nearby mages boasting their own prowess.

“So you are Tilly! Your infamy precedes you! This Executor Gunda shall be your undoing!”

“Come then, and face me!”

Encased in massive iron armor, the notoriously powerful mercenary mage Gunda charged Tilly, wielding an immense battleaxe.

“Die!!”

-BANG!-

With monstrous might and lethal force condensation, Gunda swung his axe in shockingly agile strikes for one of such bulk – briefly startling even Tilly.

“Kuh!…”

Narrowly evading Gunda’s ferocious assault, Tilly’s brow furrowed slightly.

Emboldened by this reaction, Gunda redoubled his frenzied axe swings.

“Uhahaha! So this is the great General Tilly’s prowess? A mere name without substance! I, Gunda, shall slay you and become the legend instead!”

Drunk on exhilaration, Gunda’s relentless onslaught intensified with blistering speed.

Yet for all his might…

Tilly proved far from an easy mark.

“Hwaaah!”

-KAWOOOOSH!-

With overwhelming force capable of rending the earth itself, Gunda unleashed a devastating axe strike.

Yet Tilly not only evaded the blow by a hair’s breadth, but counter-attacked Gunda’s massive frame with surgical precision.

“Kughh!”

Exploiting the opening from Gunda’s overcommitted swing, Tilly’s instantaneous retaliation elicited a pained grimace.

“Damn you!”

Blinded by rage, Gunda recklessly committed to another calamitous axe swing.

However, his fury only compounded his mistake – creating an even graver opening.

And the result was…

“Gughh!”

“Die, vile heretical slave.”

-SHUNK!-

“Guooooohhh!!!”

Instantly reversing his grip, Tilly’s blade plunged ruthlessly into Gunda’s heart.

With a gurgling scream of blood and bile, the once-formidable mercenary collapsed – slain.

“L-Lord Gunda has fallen!”

“G-General Tilly struck down Lord Gunda!”

The death of their mightiest warrior and mage shattered the mercenaries’ morale in an instant.

“I-Impossible…These are the legendary armies of the Holy Emperor himself! Far surpassing mere mercenaries like us!”

“At this rate, we’ll all be slaughtered! If you want to live, flee for your lives!”

Mansfelt’s mercenaries had always prioritized survival over devotion to nebulous ideals like their master.

Following his ‘example,’ they promptly discarded their weapons and scattered.

“Run away!”

“The Imperial armies are upon us! Flee if you value your lives!”

Witnessing his troops abandon their arms and rout in abject terror, Tilly issued a coldly resolute command:

“Leave not a single one of these fleeing cowards alive! We must extinguish the seeds of evil from this world!”

“Yes, General!”

Adhering to Tilly’s order, the Imperial forces ruthlessly cut down the fleeing mercenaries.

Thus, one of Mansfelt’s flanks crumbled in an instant – the ensuing rout rapidly infecting the rest of his formation with dread and chaos.

“Lord Mansfelt! Over there…!”

“! Damn those useless cravens! They’ve already broken ranks and fled?!”

Observing his right wing swiftly collapse and be engulfed by Tilly’s relentless advance, dismay contorted Mansfelt’s features.

Simultaneously, he recognized the imperative to swiftly devise a new stratagem.

‘My right has already shattered. Soon, the center and left will follow. At this rate, prolonged resistance is impossible.’

Though his main force neared, their impending arrival would only briefly stave off defeat – a fact Mansfelt keenly grasped.

His troops had already lost heart, wavering formations shattering rapidly across the field.

In this scenario, even the battle-hardened Mansfelt could not salvage victory.

He knew the moment had come to make a dire decision to ensure survival.

“Lord Mansfelt! The enemy is overrunning our forces from all sides!”

“The right wing has already been routed or slain. What are your orders?”

“…Then we have no choice…”

In such conclusive circumstances, swift action was imperative.

Immediately rallying his captains, Mansfelt ordered a withdrawal – taking only those personal retainers still under his command, along with the arriving main force.

After issuing these instructions, Mansfelt approached the embattled Christiane.

“Lord Mansfelt!”

“Christiane. We can resist no further – we must withdraw at once!”

“Ah…I under…This wretch!!! …Understood!”

Though drenched in the enemy’s blood from her ruthless slaughter, Christiane assented to Mansfelt’s judgment.

Even the famed Madwoman of Hilberstadt recognized their predicament – remaining would only invite complete annihilation for their troops and themselves.

Observing Christiane amid the carnage, retaining her eerie calm yet harboring an undercurrent of fury, Mansfelt spoke with grim resolution:

“Take some of my men and immediately secure as many supplies as possible from our rear camp. And that woman there…you must bring her as well.”

“…I understand your meaning.”

“And one more thing…”

“?…!”

The next instant, Mansfelt captured Christiane’s lips in a searing kiss.

Though momentarily startled, she swiftly reciprocated his ardent passion. Withdrawing, Mansfelt issued an unambiguous decree:

“No matter what befalls, you must survive and return to me. Do you comprehend?”

“…Yes…I shall return to you…without fail.”

A faint blush coloring her cheeks, Christiane solemnly affirmed her oath.

Having dispatched Christiane and her detachment, Mansfelt alone remained on the field of battle.

“Lord Mansfelt…”

“Have no fears. I do not intend to perish here. Glorious self-sacrifice was never my aim.”

Dismissing his subordinate’s concerned inquiry with firm reassurance, Mansfelt turned to face the Imperial armies’ inexorable advance – channeling his magical power.

“However…if I am to extricate us according to plan, I must buy us some time. You understand my intent?”

“…I do, Lord Mansfelt.”

“Good. Then let us be off! Since it has come to this, I may as well seize Tilly’s or Spinola’s head along the way!”

With those words, Mansfelt and his personal guard spurred their mounts into a headlong charge.

Echoing their lord’s audacious bravado, they bellowed across the battlefield:

“Soldiers of Mansfelt’s mercenary band! Drive back the enemy! Cut down those before you! We are victorious!”

Amplifying their voices with magic to reverberate across the war-torn expanse.

Though their allied ranks crumbled from all sides, this brazen claim surprisingly found traction.

Battles spanning such vast scales and troop numbers often obscured the overall situation even from veteran commanders.

Soldiers could easily mistake localized enemy routs as their own impending victory, however dire their true circumstances.

Of course, their actual prospects amounted to a collapsing foundation that would inevitably plunge them into the abyss.

But for that fleeting moment, the enemy’s momentum faltered – providing Mansfelt a vital window.

Having sacrificed his presence and part of his force to buy this precious time, Mansfelt unhesitatingly abandoned the battlefield alongside his remaining guard.

Forsaking those unable to disengage, still trading blows…