Chapter 89 - 8-3
The summer night grasslands were lively with the voices of insects.
The daytime sunlight absorbed by the earth released a damp, slight fever, illuminating the darkness. It was as if the insects were singing and making a fuss, affected by that slight fever.
As I walked down the street formed by rows of tents, I could hear the crackling of bonfires in addition to the voices of the insects. Those were the only sounds in the vicinity.
The shadows of soldiers were everywhere. Despite it being night, the place was filled with a quiet vitality. However, no one spoke a word.
Cloden Danforth walked toward a tent in the back, his arms crossed.
"I'm coming in."
With a single word, he flipped up the curtain, and the long face of Udoh Renne greeted him.
"You're late, ain't ya."
A small table had been brought into the tent, and Udoh was seated, eating dinner. Haider Skyner was at the same table.
Haider smiled and gave a small nod. It seemed he had cut his hair short.
Cloden also gave a small wave as a greeting. For some unclear reason, he felt embarrassed. If he could avoid exchanging words, he wanted to, and the three of them here were close enough to start talking without greetings.
He didn't know how Haider or Udoh felt, but Cloden was filled with a myriad of emotions. Though not with everyone, he was happy to have been able to participate in this war with his comrades. He didn't want that happiness to be noticed. He felt ashamed of himself for being glad to see his friends.
Therefore, he strove to maintain an indifferent expression.
Cloden and Udoh had joined the campaign the day after the great wind blew.
Because enemy soldiers were loitering around the highway that served as the entrance to Dint, Cloden and Udoh had maintained their defensive posture. Then, on the day of the great wind, the enemy soldiers suddenly withdrew beyond the Twin Forts.
—It seemed Ganlord had moved.
In a great panic, Cloden had persuaded the administrative officer of Dint, Dwight Ramirez, encouraging him over and over, and somehow managed to prepare for war and arrive.
Thanks to that, they made it in time for the attack.
"I took a lap around the outside."
Cloden also took a seat. Since there were wine bottles and cups, he began to pour and drink on his own. "It's quiet. Everyone is keeping silent. They're nervous."
"Heh."
"Is that so."
Udoh and Haider spoke in turn. Cloden looked down into his cup and began to talk.
"It'll be bad if we don't win the opening battle, no matter what."
Within the tension of the soldiers, there was a fear that might make one jump if touched.
It was only natural; even Sedias Thora had been unable to win. Glen Hilboro, who had been newly appointed as the commander-in-chief, fortunately had a high military reputation, but not as high as Sedias Thora. Everyone felt they couldn't win.
"That's why I think we should fight a battle we can win for the opening move."
"Opening move or whatever, ain't it bad if we don't win from start to finish?"
Udoh said.
"If you put it that way, there's nothing left to say, but what I'm saying is that we should start with the places we can certainly take."
"How about the west tower of the Twin Forts?" Haider said, sipping the wine as if savoring it.
Cloden shook his head. "It's too solid. The other side will be desperate too."
"It's solid because you're going head-on," Udoh laughed as if countering. "Listen, first attack the western hill. Once you've seized the hill, you can approach the fort along the hill."
"Ah, that's good," Haider also laughed. "On a hill, the cavalry that the guests are so fond of can't be used. It'll be a battle between infantry."
"The hill is no good. The footing is too bad. Forget cavalry, even infantry can't maneuver properly. Hey, I'm asking you, I'm talking seriously here."
"Speaking of the hill, there's a rumor," Udoh made a serious face. "A man who's supposedly the general of the Kosa has apparently shown himself quite abruptly."
"Seems so."
Cloden, who was quick to hear things, had heard that rumor.
He was said to be a massive soldier unlike any seen before, with a wicked face like a demon.
"If the rumors are true, the morale on the other side must be high. It'll be a nuisance if they get carried away. I still think we can't afford to lose the opening battle."
Saying so, he looked at Haider.
The candlelight illuminated Haider's frozen expression.
Cloden and Udoh looked at each other.
"Is something wrong?"
"...The hill. It's the hill."
Haider looked up.
"What about the hill?"
"We just have to attack the hill. Why did no one notice that?"
Haider began to speak in a lowered voice.
The inside of the tent became silent, and it felt as if the voices of the insects around them were closing in.
For the next three days, the Siddim Royal Army did not move at all.
As Cloden had observed, the soldiers often remained silent, with a heavy tension lodged in their chests.
There was a place where that frustration could be vented, at the edge of the camp.
The cluster of tents for the camp followers.
The one serving as both bodyguard and coordinator here was Zeal Androsh.
For these three days, Zeal had been busy. It seemed the general offensive was near. Timing it for when the virgins had finished their moments of bliss, Zeal burst into the tents numerous times, shouting.
"Put away your weapons, you recruits!"
When he stormed in with a deep voice, everyone hurriedly began to dress.
The ones he had business with were not the recruits. It was the ladies.
When Zeal tossed some small change, the ladies, without even pretending to cover their skin, placed both fists on their hips and looked away.
"Don't be so cold, this is, of course, a down payment."
Zeal spoke as if mediating, but it was customary for the prostitutes to look back with harsh eyes in unison. Behind the prostitutes, swords and bows and arrows were piled up.
Unable to endure the anxiety of war, the soldiers embraced women until their available money ran out. Once the money was gone, they embraced them even by putting up their weapons as collateral.
Prostitutes on the battlefield were terrifying. Just as mercenaries did, the prostitutes viewed the war zone as a great opportunity for profit. They faced it with the resolve to risk not only their bodies but their lives. Polishing their skin to a shine, applying deep and seductive makeup, they fought their own war with an irresistible sexual charm. The prostitutes were not demons; they performed their work with a noble compassion, wanting to give the soldiers, who did not know if they would see tomorrow, a good time. On the other hand, what they received, they received without fail, absolutely, certainly. They did business assuming the customer would not be alive tomorrow. Therefore, whether it was a sword or armor, they took what they could take. There was no mercy.
The ones who suffered were the soldiers who succumbed to momentary desire.
Without weapons, they had no choice but to stand frozen before the enemy and be killed. They came crying to Zeal.
Zeal would have the soldiers write a note, raise the money, and sweat to recover the weapons from the ladies. Zeal did a fairly good job. He gained the trust of the prostitutes and recovered many weapons.
—Being a former noble is paying off.
Zeal smirked inwardly. Even if he pretended to be a rogue, there was no doubt the women saw through to Zeal's good upbringing.
He was originally a noble.
Rhythmdale was the territory of the Androsh family. That Rhythmdale was seized. With the advance of Dico Thora, the Androsh family was abolished. Within the fiefs of the Anavis family, they resisted the Thora family until the end, fighting even after merging with Gilmond's family in Kraff. While he was proud of that stubbornness, it was because of that the house perished—Zeal had his noble status stripped and barely survived.
He hadn't done anything wrong.
He did not regret establishing the Fourth Army in Malfa City and resisting the rule of the Thora family. Urgil Necrat's schemes were also necessary for the East.
—It wasn't in vain.
He told himself this, intending not to be discouraged.
Zeal Androsh had avoided meeting his old comrades. He felt he could not show his face to Haider or Cloden until he had fulfilled his revenge by plunging a concealed blade into the chest of his father's enemy, Dico, also known as Dicrof Thora.
It was a matter of trust. Without fulfilling that, there would be no return to nobility.
—I'll stand up too.
Zeal wanted to show that. And yet, the Skyner family of Belgau had driven out Dico Thora. A war led by the East had begun.
Zeal was too late.
Now, he was completely sulking. He had become a man beaten down by misfortune and frustrated. This war was the conclusion of what the East had done. Everyone in the East was struggling to take responsibility. Zeal, for example, could have been involved by participating in the war as a common soldier.
—But at this late stage.
His pride would not allow him to become an infantryman. In the first place, he didn't have the energy for it.
It was at dusk, the day before the day rumored to be the general offensive.
Having finished everything he had to do, Zeal was standing around with his backside on the grassland. In the distance, there were voices of joy, exciting and almost like a festival.
He wondered if the war had begun, but it didn't seem that way.
Just as Zeal Androsh was about to haul his heavy self up, a young man came out of a small tent nearby, pulling up his trousers.
He was a tall, effeminate man named Lucifont Nera. He had fallen from grace under similar circumstances to Zeal and had drifted along to parasitize the prostitutes. Originally, he seemed to be from the lineage of a certain lord's vassal.
"Hmph, Zeal. I have good news. I've found a newcomer with skin like snow."
Lucifont began to boast of the results of his human trafficking in a pretentious voice.
"The beauty of her limbs is like that of a small fairy. I've enjoyed her to my heart's content. She's in that hut over there, so go try her out."
"I don't know about that."
Zeal felt pathetic. He felt he couldn't stand to look at Lucifont's smirk. However, Zeal had nothing to offer in return other than a similar smirk. There was no point in acting cool now. That was what was pathetic.
While despising each other, the two young men stayed together with the same smile on their faces. Still, trying his best to pique his interest, Zeal thought he would at least look at the face of that fairy.
When he stood up and looked toward the tent, a dark-skinned woman was standing near the entrance. She was tall, similar to Lucifont, and had no hair at all. Although she wore white monastic robes, her breasts and hips were so full the fabric seemed ready to tear, and the beauty of her curves when naked could be seen.
"I see, exotic taste. This one's a prize."
She had a body that looked like it could earn fifty or sixty Gilan in a single night.
"Y-You idiot!" Lucifont panicked. "That's far too rude. Can't you tell by looking? She is a nun."
"Is that so? This is an outdoor brothel. What is a nun doing here?"
"I—" the dark-skinned woman said. "I have come because I wished to help these women with their prayers."
"Prayers?"
Zeal looked up at Lucifont, seeking an explanation. Lucifont was scratching his head.
"She came along with the snow-skinned fairy I mentioned earlier. No matter. At a time like this, the ladies of the pleasure quarters probably need prayers too, right?"
"You say that, but," Zeal lowered his voice. "Don't you know there are Southerners among the enemy soldiers? A foreigner at a time like this is bad—"
"You think she's a spy? She's a nun."
"My name is Rivet of the Siddim Order of Nuns," the Black woman spoke, smiling sadly. "If there are any grounds for suspicion, please inquire with the church. I will not leave the tent during the times when gentlemen are present, nor will I wander away from here. Please be at ease."
"Besides, Cabane has given permission."
Lucifont added. Cabane was a yakuza from Malfa City who managed the group of camp followers.
If that was the case, there was no point in saying anything. Zeal himself was employed by Cabane.
"Please forgive my rudeness, Sister Rivet."
"I do not mind. Your name?"
"Zeal Androsh."
"Zeal-sama, I wish you military luck."
Military luck or whatever, Zeal was a yakuza's underling. He wondered if he had been mocked, but from the mysterious smile Rivet wore, nothing sarcastic could be read. Zeal bowed his head and left the scene.
That night, the flow of customers did not increase. The rumor that tomorrow was the general offensive must truly be correct. There was a feeling in the air. By midnight, the flow of customers had ceased completely. Lucifont returned to the tent first. Zeal felt he wouldn't be able to sleep.
Listening to the voices of the insects, Zeal began to walk in the direction that would likely become the battlefield.
Telling himself he just wanted to cool off, he was drawn toward it.
Thinking he should return soon, that it was enough, his feet would not stop.
Passing between the soldiers' tents, slipping through wooden barriers, and reaching a place where the line of high hills was visible, Zeal stopped.
Towers seemed to tower above. At a glance, there were five or six.
They were conical towers. A thick pillar stood high in the center. Small lights surrounded the towers and were moving. They were soldiers carrying lights that seemed to be lanterns. There were countless of them. They were working busily. Small lights were also attached to the tops of the towers. They were probably still constructing the upper parts. With the towers wrapped in bands of flickering light, the way the crowds of people writhed reminded Zeal of a festival.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of horse hooves approaching.
Turning around, Haider Skyner approached with a face that looked as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"I wondered who it was, and it's a nostalgic face."
Haider stopped his horse and spoke. After dismounting, he came over with a bounce.
"What do you think?"
"It ain't bad, Haider. It's great," Zeal said. There was an emotion welling up, and his chest felt tight. "Are you doing it?"
"No. I am in charge of meals." Haider stared at the towers. "The East will do it. They'll raise the Royal Army's flag and do it with the Eastern soldiers."
"Haider."
Desperately suppressing the lump in his chest, Zeal squeezed out his voice. He felt like he wanted to cling to something. I see, he thought.
—I see, the East is doing it. Under His Majesty's flag.
Everyone will do it. Everyone in the East. Old and young, noble and common, man and woman, regardless of life or death, the living will share their thoughts with the dead—the entire East. Everyone will do it.
"I'll do it too," Zeal said. These were words emitted by Zeal's blood, emotions, and memories. "I'll do it too. I'll do it too. Please, Haider, let me in as a comrade."
Zeal was desperate.
"Don't be ridiculous," Haider, looking surprised, grabbed Zeal's shoulder and peered into Zeal's face.
"At this late stage? Haven't we been comrades for a long time?"
"Is it okay?"
"Let's do it, all of us."
Hearing Haider's caring voice, Zeal's legs trembled, and he nearly fell to his knees.
Geraha Wolf was shaken awake just before dawn and heard the report.
He hurriedly put on his armor and donned his helmet. A messenger had prepared a giant horse with a saddle attached. As soon as he leaped on, he headed for the foot of the hill.
Just as he reached the top of the hill, his face red, the enemy's attack began simultaneously.
A stone projectile grazed overhead. The sound of cutting through the wind seemed to pass from one of Geraha's ears to the other.
The stone projectile landed in the Kosa camp, increasing its power, and crushed a tent. Building materials scattered as if they had exploded, and horses began to run in panic. The stone projectile continued to roll, wrapping up the tent fabric. It finally stopped after colliding with a soldier.
Stone projectiles passed by Geraha's side and overhead one after another.
That was only natural. The enemy's pendulum-style catapults were not just one. Six were lined up in a horizontal row, each swinging its pendulum back and forth, and as the long wooden arm swung toward them, giant stones were hurled, trailing smoke. They weren't as large as those used in the attack on Attaik. However, they were high enough to throw stones here, and the distance was short.
They had assembled this in a single night.
Most of the stone projectiles landed on the slope of the hill. The grass and soil of the hill splashed and spread like water. The stone projectiles rolled down, bouncing.
On that slope, allied Southern Kosa infantry were scattered, hiding behind sandbags, their backs curved.
Their backs were already covered in a rain of earth and sand, and it seemed they might be buried just like that. Some soldiers were crushed by the rolling stone projectiles.
—This is bad.
I see, so this is what a war to take a position is like. In Geraha's head, there had been the assumption that since it was an open-air battlefield, it would be a field battle. No fool would set up siege engines in a field battle. They'd be flanked and it would be over. Once siege engines are set up, moving them or changing their direction is difficult.
The enemy must have thought of this war as a siege.
—Bad. The hill will be taken.
If the hill is taken, the Kosa camp will be looked down upon.
If they attack along the hill, the west tower of the Twin Forts will also be in danger.
While thinking it was bad, Geraha remained calm with his innate dullness.
"Great King! This is no good!"
A man named Arachnis, the captain of the guard, came panting along the ridge of the hill.
"Please get down, it is dangerous here!"
"Arachnis, can you hold out for a little longer?" Geraha asked the captain.
"Of course!"
"It seems we must change our policy. If it truly becomes impossible, please retreat promptly. While you draw the enemy's attention, I will try to see if I can take their rear."
"The rear? Great King... Great King!"
"I'm counting on you."
Geraha slid down the hill. Even during that time, the enemy's stone projectiles came flying with a roar.
The damage to the Kosa camp was spreading. Not just the tents, but the newly built log fences and the construction of the stairs to bring horses up the hill were largely destroyed.
The soldiers were moving toward the forest to avoid the stone projectiles.
Geraha took a deep breath and ordered, "Cavalry! Assemble!"
The soldiers scattered throughout the surrounding area were visibly unsettled, but at Geraha's single voice, which sounded like an echo, they all began to move at once.
Having seen that, Geraha set his horse toward the fort.
"Great King!"
The one who brought his horse close, dangerously avoiding the rolling stone projectiles, was Hazab.
"Hazab, can you forget the order I gave previously!"
"I understand!"
A commander should issue orders after careful consideration, and easily overturning a previous order could be called immature. However, no matter who looked at it, the situation had completely changed.
"Great King, gather the cavalry and—"
"Strike out!"
"Please, let me take command!"
"I'm going!"
"I object!"
"Hazab, you were a bit careless," Geraha secretly stuck out his tongue. "It seems I underestimated the enemy. They've pushed in to the point where I must take command."
"Great King—it's dangerous!"
"I'm still in time."
"In time? For what?"
"For the chance of victory. Hazab, I leave the infantry to you!" Geraha drew the barbarian sword at his waist, reflecting the white blade in the rising morning sun.
"Cavalry! Do not fall behind. Carry your spears! Fire every arrow you have!"
"We can win!"
Zeal let out a shout of joy and turned around.
The Androsh family cloak draped over his shoulder swayed.
"Lucifont! We can win!"
"I know!"
Zeal had been entrusted with one catapult. It was an appointment just before the general offensive, and moreover, a nepotistic hire. If he didn't meet expectations here, there would be no next time.
To launch a stone projectile, a giant weight hanging from the lower part of a long pole had to be lifted high overhead. This was done by human power. Twenty people pulled ropes to lower the upper part of the pole until it touched the ground.
Once the weight was lifted that far, the tip of the pole was secured and fixed with a metal fitting driven into the ground.
Once the stone projectile was wrapped in the sling and set, the preparations were complete.
A rope was placed over the iron fastener, and after everyone moved away for safety, the rope was pulled to release the fastener. By the force of the weight falling, the tip of the pole, which had been lowered to the ground, pulled up the sling and made a half-rotation.
One end of the sling released in mid-air, and the wrapped stone projectile was hurled as if sucked into the sky.
The first few times were failures, with the projectiles flying backward, but after adjustments, Zeal's catapult finally began to operate in earnest.
To change the launch angle of the projectile, the hook of the sling's release mechanism was adjusted.
"Release!"
At Zeal's command, the fastener was released, and the several-th launch was carried out.
The trajectory of the stone projectile was somewhat low, and while it didn't clear the hill, it headed toward the upper middle part.
And it hit the exact spot where the enemy had formed an earthen rampart and holed up. About two soldiers rolled down the hill.
After a brief moment, the enemy soldiers guarding the hill appeared one after another from behind the earthen rampart. It was all the enemy soldiers who had been on the slope of the hill. They scrambled up the hill like spiderlings scattering. Voices rose from the allied side. The enemy, unable to endure, had begun to retreat.
Zeal, bewildered, looked next to him. The soldiers operating the neighboring catapult also seemed bewildered in the same way and were looking this way.
In the meantime, a crowd of light infantry ran through, letting out war cries. They came running one after another.
The seizure of the hill was beginning.
"We can win!" Zeal shouted.
"General!" a soldier with a red beard covering his sagging cheeks shouted loudly. "Let's go too. I'm sick and tired of these scary catapults."
"Shall we! What was your name again!"
"Fuhehe. I'm Hemrik of Dint."
"From Cloden's place, huh? I'm counting on you," Zeal said bravely. "We'll follow too! Get your bows! Lucifont, don't fall behind!"
"I told you I know."
Since there was a possibility of hitting allies, the catapults could no longer be used.
Now, all that was left was hand-to-hand combat.
"W-We can win..."
On horseback, Cloden watched the progression of events with wide eyes.
"Of course we can win!" Dwight Ramirez, the steward of the Thora family who was beside him, said. "I'll hunt that monster and turn it into a stuffed specimen!"
It was the Dint Heavy Cavalry, a mixed unit of Ramirez's soldiers and Dint's soldiers.
They were deployed in the rear of the front line overlooking the Twin Forts.
With the start of the general offensive, the heavy infantry and heavy cavalry of the Eastern Royal Army surged between the forts.
"We'll follow too," the captain, Ramirez, was huffing, but Cloden calmed him down.
The role of the Dint cavalry unit was to cut down enemy soldiers coming out from between the forts.
As for why the enemy would come out, it was because they would certainly be pushed out by the attack on the hill. There was no need to force themselves to stop the enemy. If they were guided this way, they would be dealt with here.
Just as it seemed a back-and-forth struggle would continue, unexpectedly quickly, the enemy cavalry began to charge the Siddim infantry.
At the front of it was there. A monster of giant physique.
—Geraha Wolf.
The giant man who seemed to be Geraha let out a loud voice that seemed to silence the entire battlefield. It was a foreign language. It was a voice that echoed loudly, shaking the atmosphere of Siddim, leaving an echo, and disappearing as if soaking in.
For a moment, everyone shrank their shoulders, looking like children who had been scolded. In that instant, the only one who stood towering was that man. Even the enemy soldiers seemed to be in awe of the monster.
The hesitation was momentary. The attack was immediately resumed.
Geraha, riding a horse as large as a pack mule, swung his spear.
The allied soldiers looked as if they were being swept away. To the right and left, armed men were being scattered by the broom of Geraha's spear. If one were to thrust a spear, they must not be too close; a certain distance is required. The Siddim infantry tried to retreat to gain that distance.
However, the dark-faced giant man did not allow that slight distance.
He manipulated his horse and pushed aggressively into the enemy's bosom.
Like a simple law of physics, the enemy advanced and the allies retreated.
Geraha was carving a path while sweeping away the Siddim infantry.
—He's going to break through.
When Cloden vaguely thought this, the Siddim infantry finally retreated and opened the way. The Kosa cavalry poured out. At the lead was the giant enemy general. A sound like the general's breath, a "bufuu," reached Cloden's ears.
—You monster!
"Charge!"
At Captain Ramirez's order, although Cloden was poor at both martial arts and fighting, he was fired up.
The Dint Heavy Cavalry set off on their horses at the perfect moment. It was as if they had captured the enemy. Considering the enemy's speed and distance, it could no longer be avoided. They had no choice but to collide head-on. In the history of Dint, there had been no more splendid sortie than this.
And yet, the enemy avoided them with ease. With a horse turn like acrobatics, they split into two and scattered lightly. They didn't give the Dint unit a second thought. Only two or three arrows for harassment flew toward them.
"T-Turn the horses!"
While they were clumsily manipulating the reins, the following Kosa cavalry, who had appeared before they knew it, passed by, cutting through the wind.
Neither Cloden nor the Dint unit was panicked. If they ignored them and fled, they just had to follow. In the direction the enemy cavalry was heading, the Siddim Royal Army was densely gathered. There was no escape.
Whether they knew it or not, the enemy cavalry led by the giant man, after one large detour, became a single mass and charged into the middle of the Siddim camp. It was as if they had fallen into a trap. The Siddim army immediately surrounded the enemy cavalry.
The Dint unit couldn't fully join the encirclement. Thanks to that, Cloden was able to witness the Royal Army pouring into the enemy camp beyond the Twin Forts.
—We can win!
It was astonishing. The enemy was not sane; attacking the hill had worked. With that attack, Geraha Wolf had completely misjudged.
The fate of the enemy general was now like a candle in the wind. Moreover, the front line of the Twin Forts had finally been breached. Victory could be said to be only a matter of time.
Astonishingly, Geraha's cavalry seemed to be searching for a breakthrough in the encirclement while wandering aimlessly. Surrounding such incredibly fast creatures, the Royal Army seemed to be standing idly by. However, that was likely a reaction possible only because they had the upper hand.
"We can win, 'ppe!"
Udoh Renne also shouted.
Udoh's cavalry unit was also mixed into the Royal Army by the rights of the Eastern nobility. Their placement was toward the back, but he didn't mind. Udoh had little interest in achievements. However, he had a greater attachment to land than most. He wanted to protect the lands of the Renne family for generations.
After the stupidly large, ugly man and the cavalry led by him left the enemy camp, the infantry guarding the entrance to the enemy camp fell into disorder. Taking that as the lead, the Royal Army cavalry charged. The heavy infantry also ran, their helmets bobbing up and down, pouring into the enemy camp like a bursting dam.
Udoh also wanted to charge into the enemy camp quickly. The front was congested, and he couldn't advance easily.
The archers of the Twin Forts were refraining from attacking, fearing they would hit the Kosa cavalry.
They would likely resume firing soon. He wanted to get inside quickly before becoming a target for the enemy.
While feeling frustrated, Udoh looked up at the western fort and suddenly felt a sense of incongruity. He felt as if he had sensed a slightly strange aura in the movements of the enemy soldiers in the fort.
Without time to think deeply, the group in front began to advance.
Upon entering the enemy camp, he first saw a dark forest spreading out.
The next thing he noticed was a wooden fence made by stacking logs horizontally. It wasn't very high, but it stretched long. And there were no enemy shadows.
—Are they hiding?
Udoh swung his long arm to signal the Renne unit behind him and moved away from the fence.
The preceding Royal Army was also advancing slowly, wary of traps.
Suddenly, Udoh heard a high, echoing sound of a whistle. It was the sound of a signal arrow.
Looking toward the sound, it was on top of the hill. There were soldiers. They were waving the Royal Army's flag. They were allies.
—They took the hill.
Udoh thought blankly. Around Udoh, cheers rose in unison.
"Captain, we did it!"
One of the Renne unit let out an excited voice. Udoh raised his palm and silenced the soldier.
The allies on the hill were shouting something in turn. They seemed desperate to convey something to them.
It was then that he heard the war cry.
From a gap in the long log fence, enemy soldiers appeared and came toward them. All were infantry. The cavalry must have gone outside and be away.
What the comrades on the hill were trying to convey must have been this trap.
The Siddim Royal Army was reliable. Cavalry and infantry mixed and immediately headed toward the enemy.
Udoh also gripped the reins again.
Turning around, enemy heavy infantry appeared one after another from the Twin Forts, blocking the escape route.
It must have been planned this way from the start.
They were completely boxed in, but it didn't matter. It was the same thing in the end. Whether the soldiers who were hiding or the soldiers blocking the way, he just had to defeat them all.
Zeal Androsh on top of the hill was seeing a completely different landscape from Udoh Renne. First, the fences made of logs were installed in double or triple layers, making it like a small maze. It was designed to become narrower the further one advanced, guiding them deeper inside.
And the enemy soldiers hiding behind those fences and firing arrows were few. There were probably fewer than a thousand. There was no need to go out of the way to deal with them.
The Royal Army that had charged into the enemy camp couldn't see that. They were blinded by the log fences. It was as if they were fighting against fences that were almost unmanned. In the meantime, the remaining infantry were running behind the fences toward the exit of the Twin Forts. They intended to go outside.
Though he couldn't see well from Zeal's position, the front of the Twin Forts seemed thin because the charge had succeeded. Ridiculously, the allied soldiers were more interested in the surrounded Kosa cavalry than that, and they had their backs turned to the Twin Forts.
"Is this... bad?"
Zeal looked at Lucifont beside him.
"Hmph. It seems so." Lucifont's beauty was stained with mud. "But the infantry went down a moment ago to report the situation. Well, it'll probably be fine."
"General!" Hemrik of Dint pulled Zeal's cloak. "It's dangerous here too!"
"Not general. Call me captain. What is it?"
He looked back and was surprised. It was the enemy cavalry that was supposed to be surrounded.
—What is that?
In the middle of the battlefield, there was a circle.
It was a circle surrounding the Kosa cavalry. That circle was growing larger. Far from narrowing the encirclement, it was expanding.
What force was expanding the encirclement? It was a force that could be called rotational power.
The Kosa cavalry had gone mad. They were circling the inside of the encirclement at an incredible speed. A line of mounted horses, linked like beads, was galloping in a circle. While firing arrows. It was just like a wheel splashing muddy water.
It wasn't just the outer rotation. Inside that, there was a line of horses rotating in the opposite direction, firing arrows in the same way. For some reason, those arrows did not hit the outer rotation.
Further inside, there were cavalry, and they were not rotating. They were waiting around a slightly large man who seemed to be the leader. The slightly large man with his arms crossed was like the center of a typhoon.
What was astonishing was that those waiting mounted horses would occasionally charge the surrounding army in groups of about ten.
Even though it wouldn't be strange to collide with the rotating horses, their maneuvers were seamless, and there were no collision accidents. As if sewing through the gaps of the inner rotation and the gaps of the outer rotation, they leaped into the encirclement with spears poised. In that way, they bored holes and, while joining the outer rotation themselves, expanded the holes and enlarged the circumference.
Zeal had the impression that it was too magnificent. It had surpassed the level of command.
—The soldiers are different. They're on a different level.
I see why they'd want to take the world.
Compared to that magnificence, the allied encirclement looked devoid of strategy. They were just gazing at the enemy, holding up shields.
However, Zeal thought there was a logic to this. If the enemy was raging, they could just leave them be and let them exhaust themselves. Eventually, when the time came, the arrows would certainly run out. Everyone was waiting for that.
—No, that's wrong.
Wrong. Zeal felt a chill run down his spine. The enemy didn't want to enlarge the circumference. Those guys were moving. They were moving while drawing a circle.
In the direction they were heading, there were catapults.
"Hey, don't mess around. The catapults will be taken! Lucifont! We're defending the catapults!"
"No, Zeal, Captain, look at that."
Lucifont pointed to the foot of the hill.
Looking, a single dark-faced enemy soldier came running with a hop-skip. The enemy soldier fired a single arrow, like a fart, into the hill, then hid in the bushes.
"What's that?"
When Zeal looked, a large army of enemy infantry had already approached. The ones who had left the gates of the Twin Forts had already arrived.
A different unit from the one surrounding the Kosa cavalry was jostling and shoving with the dark-skinned infantry. The enemy infantry also seemed to be aiming for the siege engines. At this rate, they would merge with the cavalry.
—What to do?
At this rate, the hill would be isolated.
That said, abandoning the hill was impossible. Many soldiers, both enemy and ally, had died here.
"General—"
Having his cloak pulled, Zeal almost fell.
"Call me captain! What!"
Red-bearded Hemrik, with a pale face, pointed toward the dark forest.
Turning to look toward the forest, wagons had been lined up before he knew it. About twenty of them. Things that seemed to be tent materials and things like barrels were piled up.
"Were things like that there? Where did they come from?"
Zeal started and looked at the hole opened in the dark forest.
While he watched, one more wagon appeared from that hole. Cavalry with fresh skin tones also entered Siddim one after another.
"Hoh. It seems the road has finally opened."
"Is that true—hey—"
It must be as Lucifont said. The fact that wagons could pass meant the road had been cleared.
Zeal swallowed. He desperately suppressed his agitation. Now that it had come to this, he had no choice but to make up his mind. He would flee. However, this required a little trick. He said the opposite with his mouth.
"Draw your swords! Defeat the enemy infantry in front and defend the hill to the death!"
By saying this, it should become a pretext to descend the hill.
The infantry around him immediately noticed what Zeal wanted to say.
"Follow me—!"
Although he felt reluctant to abandon the hill they had gone to the trouble of seizing, he had fulfilled the role of letting the enemy out. Even if they holed up here, they would only be annihilated.
While descending the steep slope of the hill, Zeal saw the enemy cavalry slow their rotation and shift to a breakthrough maneuver. The Siddim army was being sliced in two right before his eyes. He felt on his skin that the enemy's momentum had changed.
Pusiteto's body, which had been storing fat plumply, had been completely reborn into a muscular one in this war.
Lowering his solid, thick body from the horse to the ground, Pusiteto let go of the reins and ran.
Geraha Wolf was sitting cross-legged by the catapults. The long shadow of the Great King created by the setting sun stretched toward Pusiteto.
"Great King..."
"Oh, Pusiteto." Great King Geraha wore a distorted smile. "You didn't show your face."
"My sincerest apologies, Great King. Last night, a messenger came from the forest."
It was a messenger saying that Kirikiri was coming nearby leading a large army.
When Pusiteto held up a torch and entered the forest road, Kirikiri was letting a "ge-hehhe" laugh echo in the darkness.
Kirikiri had used his forces to open the forest road, which had already been close to opening.
"I see. Thanks to that, I was saved."
The light of dusk wet the Great King's gentle profile in red.
"The enemy?"
Pusiteto looked around. Not a single trace of the enemy Siddim army, which had possessed such momentum, remained.
Trampled earth and grass, destroyed enemy tents, and cooking utensils were scattered.
"They retreated. Though I can't say I won by dealing a crushing blow, well, this is how it goes."
At the innocent smile the Great King suddenly showed, Pusiteto felt a chill for some reason.
—Why, win?
That was the thought. He said he hadn't won, but this was a victory. The form that Geraha Wolf as an individual had created was this current state.
"I wanted to save Big Brother Mozu—oh, you brought him."
When Pusiteto turned around, the old sorcerer was standing there looking lonely.
They were always the three of them together, but today, there were only two.
"Pusiteto, you can let your soldiers rest now."
"Thank you very much."
The Great King stood up, doubling the length of his shadow, and walked toward the old men.
—Why.
Pusiteto watched the Great King leave with a feeling of dread.
—What is that person. Is he a god?
The Great King's large back, receiving the setting sun, seemed to burn red.