episode_0013

From the riverbank to the thickets, the cries of steel rang out in succession.

Thud, thud, thud.

Soldiers with at least two or three arrows embedded in their armor raised their shields, which bore even more arrows, and advanced heavily.

As they stepped over tree roots and trampled through the short undergrowth, the centaurs darting wildly through the forest ahead let out savage war cries and unleashed a volley of arrows.

– Kiiieeeeeeeeeeeek!!

– Kiiihyaaaaaaaaak!!

The deafening screams, like a chorus of demons, were followed by a rain of reed arrows.

Yet no matter how many times they were repeated, the arrows merely bounced off the helmets, armor, and shields gleaming in the sunlight.

Occasionally, an unlucky soldier would collapse after being struck in the nape, but the infantry, their eyes burning with determination, never halted their advance.

They obeyed only the orders of the one who commanded them from behind.

The only one on this battlefield with the authority to give them orders.

The Imperial Princess, Charlotte Laura von Ahenmetis—her, and no one else.

“Archers, forward…!”

As the infantry intercepted another volley from the ambushing centaurs, the archers following swiftly nocked their arrows and fired at the fleeing centaurs’ retreating figures.

Most of the centaurs escaped the barrage, but those too exhausted or slow to move were struck and collapsed with arrows lodged in their bodies.

Yet, in the end, neither side managed to inflict significant losses in this exchange. The centaurs, who had sought to halt the advance, once again failed in their objective, allowing the Imperial army to press forward.

After what felt like dozens of minutes of relentless arrow fire, the formation showed no signs of breaking—instead, it held firm, unshaken.

Though these were merely simulated projections, they demonstrated the might of the soldiers of the Empire that ruled this continent.

‘The Turks who first encountered the Crusader knights reportedly thought of them as iron men, seeing how their arrows had no effect.’

There was historical precedent.

The Battle of Dorylaeum.

During the First Crusade, the Crusader forces marching toward the Holy Land were ambushed by local Turkish troops.

At the time, the Crusaders were scattered and in disarray, and the Turks took advantage of this to rain arrows upon them for half a day.

The Turks seemed to have gained the upper hand, but the Crusaders, through their commanders’ leadership and the resilience of their heavy armor, managed to hold their formation.

Far from being annihilated, the Crusaders endured, and by the time the scattered Crusader forces regrouped and arrived as reinforcements, the battle was ultimately reversed.

Of course, the Turks were at a significant disadvantage in terms of overall strength, but the anecdote still serves as a testament to the power of medieval heavy armor.

Now, I was experiencing the same bewildered frustration those Turkish lords must have felt.

‘Imperial troops are broken. Nerf shield defense rates already.’

No matter how many arrows we poured upon them, their formation remained unbroken, unwavering.

And the moment they detected even the slightest slack in our control, they retaliated with ruthless counterfire and infantry charges. If these weren’t iron monsters, what were they?

Though the battle seemed like a one-sided beating, the actual damage inflicted was minimal—this was just an exchange of arrows.

We were free to attack, but all we could deal was chip damage.

Of course, even chip damage could eventually bring down an opponent if repeated hundreds or thousands of times indefinitely.

The problem was, the number of times we could inflict that chip damage was ultimately limited.

“All mounted archers… fall back while maintaining rear shots. Retreat slowly to the camp.”

So, how could we replenish that limit? The answer was simple: resupply.

It might sound obvious, but it was a time-honored tactic, effective here and elsewhere.

‘The centaurs’ wagons.’

Traditionally, nomads who relied on swarm tactics due to population shortages were well aware of their weaknesses and took care to resupply arrows when necessary.

Thus, they established bases across wide territories, using secret routes to resupply and endlessly harassing expeditionary forces—this was the nomadic way of defensive warfare.

In this world, centaurs also lived a migratory lifestyle, herding sheep and goats, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to use wagons pulled by bison or themselves.

Naturally, they must have used those wagons in battle before.

So, earlier, just as ‘Johann Beltstein’ had shown, I brought wagons to set up a temporary camp on the battlefield.

Units would go to the frontlines, fire arrows until they ran out, then return to camp to resupply before rejoining the fight.

Of course, this required a significant initial point investment, so even after whittling down the Princess’s forces, we were still at a disadvantage.

To conceal this, I had been using every trick in the book within the forest.

Rotating units to ensure continuous fire.

Never venturing too far from the forest.

Firing only from positions where we couldn’t be easily spotted, even if it meant passing up good angles.

Fortunately, centaurs excelled at such tactics, and I had managed to stretch our resources this far…

‘And she saw through it again…’

I could tell this Princess wasn’t the type to charge blindly after enduring for so long.

Because she wasn’t just advancing toward my forces—she was marching straight for the wagon camp I had set up.

‘Well, I never expected to fool her forever.’

Even if it weren’t the Princess, no one would just stand there taking arrow fire without a plan. The Imperial archers’ arrows would be running low by now, too.

I was just surprised she had pinpointed my location so accurately.

The problem was…

‘This is dangerous.’

Naturally, after fielding so many centaur horse archers and wagons, I had only a handful of troops left to defend the camp in close combat.

Meaning, if the Princess’s well-armed Imperial forces stormed the camp, we wouldn’t last long.

Even if we held out somehow, arrow resupply would become impossible—and the foundation of my strategy would collapse.

I had to slow them down and inflict as much damage as possible.

But.

No matter how much I pushed the horse archers forward to harass the rear cavalry or tried flanking maneuvers…

No matter what tricks I used, the Imperial forces refused to stop their advance, even if it meant collapsing like hedgehogs.

From my perspective, their tenacity was like an undying legion.

‘An undying legion is just a bunch of guys in identical uniforms replacing the dead—they’re not actually immortal…!’

I had no choice but to hold them off here. That’s why I pulled all my forces back to the camp—it was the only option.

And so began a slow retreat, a drawn-out game of cat and mouse with the pursuing Imperial army.

At the end of it, the two forces finally faced off in a forest clearing before the wagon camp.

While both sides briefly reorganized their ranks, I hurriedly ushered some of the centaur archers into the camp and gazed at the Imperial soldiers in the distance.

‘Still, they’re exhausted.’

Even if they weren’t dead, the endless arrow volleys hadn’t been entirely without effect.

The soldiers at the front had endured arrow after arrow, forcing their way here—they weren’t unharmed.

Of course, the centaurs were also exhausted from constant riding and shooting, but they were still in better shape than these heavily armored troops trudging forward under fire.

‘The distance between infantry and cavalry… still the same.’

That distance, maintained since the riverbank.

The precarious range where centaur archers had to get dangerously close to the infantry lines to target the cavalry.

A distance where, if they fired just outside the infantry’s charge range, their arrows would barely reach.

Princess Charlotte had maintained this exact distance, meticulously protecting her cavalry from our archers.

If that wasn’t skill, I didn’t know what was. Maintaining such precise spacing, especially in a forest full of obstacles… I could only call it impressive.

“……Haaah.”

As I observed from inside the camp, the Princess’s forces, now fully prepared, began advancing again.

Watching them, I smirked bitterly. This was far from a favorable situation.

Yet, the fact that I still had one last trick up my sleeve made it feel less like tactical command and more like a game—which was almost funny.

‘I was saving this… but it’s too effective not to use now.’

With that, I ordered the archers outside to fire.

Their target: the infantry at the front.

The soldiers, finally sensing the battle’s true start, roared and charged toward the camp, brandishing swords and axes.

They were here for revenge after all they’d endured.

My archers alone could never stop their furious assault.

The Princess would likely commit her heavy cavalry for the finishing blow once her infantry gained ground.

After all, lances wouldn’t be as effective against wagons and barricades.

So, without delay, I called out to the unit waiting inside.

“Navek Marksmen!”

The centaurs behind me, armed differently from the others, lifted their heads and raised their bows.

The enemy was still far away. The charging infantry were in range, but the cavalry—especially the Princess—were still out of reach.

The same distance as when I had fired that seemingly pointless volley earlier.

That “pointless” volley had been meant to make the Princess believe that was the centaurs’ maximum range.

“Target the central banner—the one wearing the white-plumed helmet…”

I gave the order, aiming at the Princess, who should have been safely out of range.

“───Fire!!”

Twang, twang, whiiiiiiish──!!

A sound entirely unlike ordinary arrows—almost like darts—flew from the centaurs’ bows.

If they hit, I was certain victory would be mine.

Because the arrows just fired were called Navek.

Or, in Imperial terms, Solenarion.

Or, in the terms of my past life—pyeonjeon.

A specialized arrow, shorter than normal, more powerful, and capable of flying much farther.