Chapter 180 - Face-to-Face with the Marshal (4)
"Spread out!"
"Spread out! Spread out!"
"You fool! Where are you going? Get over here!"
As soon as he entered the forest, Ernest, Company Commander of the 2nd Company at the vanguard of the 13th Regiment, immediately ordered his troops to fan out.
The new recruits who'd just dashed into the enemy forest panicked for a moment, but soon followed their platoons and formed a dispersed formation.
"Don't stop, keep running! The Rangers will clear the way ahead!"
Once inside the forest, the 13th Regiment began to run with wild abandon.
Stealthy movement to avoid detection by the enemy was unnecessary now.
They had already been discovered the moment they sped in with vehicles.
Above all, what mattered most now was time.
They had to push as deep into the forest as possible, and fast.
"Huff! Huff! Huff!"
Although they'd built up some stamina during training, the new recruits had never experienced sprinting through a forest in combat before, and their breathing quickly grew ragged.
"Huff! Huff!"
Robert's stamina had dropped after living comfortably for a while, so running through the forest wasn't easy for him.
However, thanks to his wealth of combat experience for his age, he quickly adapted to this dreadful situation and kept running with steady, controlled breaths.
In fact, now that he was back in combat, it seemed he didn't even notice how exhausting it was.
Even as he anxiously scanned his surroundings, tense with stress, he kept moving.
Bang! Bang bang bang!
"It's the enemy!"
"Prepare for battle!"
"Prepare for battle!"
Gunfire erupted up ahead.
The Rangers had made first contact with the enemy.
Ernest gauged the exact distance to the enemy by the flash and sound of the shots and immediately assessed the terrain around them.
The enemy was armed with Balt Guns.
Considering how much Balt Battery Belliang had used in the Bertagne Forest, it was safe to say that Konchanya still possessed a huge stockpile of Balt Battery.
'This isn't good.'
Ernest read the battlefield in an instant and realized things were looking bad.
The enemy's positioning was quite strong.
It was clear at a glance that they'd carefully studied the terrain before placing their troops.
They must have stationed fewer troops in the northern part of the forest.
That much is certain.
However, their positioning is so skillful that breaking through won't be easy.
There's no way to punch through this by luck.
Their lines are tight, leaving no gaps.
If we're going to break through, we'll have to commit decisive force.
"Tell the Battalion Commander that we're going for a concentrated breakthrough, and request an additional company to support us!"
"Yes, sir!"
Ernest immediately sent Soren as a courier.
"2nd Company! Tight formation!"
"2nd Company! Tight formation!"
Without waiting, Ernest began preparing for a charge.
At his shout, the scattered soldiers of 2nd Company quickly converged.
As the vanguard 2nd Company halted to ready themselves for a concentrated breakthrough, 1st Battalion naturally slowed to a stop and bunched up as well.
The 2nd and 3rd Battalions following behind also came to a halt.
From above, they would look like a tightly-packed, dense wedge formation.
"2nd Company Commander!"
"Start with Baltracher! Isaac! Take the front, Isaac! Bruno, you cover the left flank!"
It wasn't long before 3rd Company attached themselves to the side of 2nd Company.
Ernest formed the breakthrough formation for his company, and Andersen swiftly brought 3rd Company into line on the right side of 2nd Company to complete the formation.
At the front were two Baltrachers, with one Baltracher on each flank.
In this tight wedge formation, the troops in the center wouldn't be able to fire, which would lower their firepower, but they didn't need immediate firepower—they just needed to trust the Baltrachers' Balt Shields and shove their way in to split the enemy lines.
"Charge! Follow me!"
"Chaaaarge!"
"Waaaaa!"
The moment preparations were complete, Ernest thundered out the order to charge and took off running right behind Isaac.
The soldiers, seeing their Captain Fox charging at the very front, felt a surge of morale and let out wild shouts as they stormed forward.
To a casual observer, it looked like a truly savage charge.
It resembled old-era close quarters combat tactics.
But in a situation where the Balt Shields could protect them from enemy gunfire, even this kind of reckless charge tactic could prove highly effective.
"Are those mad bastards for real?!"
The Commander from Belliang recoiled in shock at the sight of 2nd and 3rd Companies racing at them in a wedge formation.
Ever since guns began dominating the battlefield, the standard approach had been to spread out troops as much as possible to maximize firepower.
Even when attempting a breakthrough at a single point, the favored approach was generally more sophisticated tactics—just like how the 5th and 6th Divisions were pounding Konchanya's defensive line to help the 13th Regiment break through, or how the 13th Regiment was using the Logistics Corps as a decoy.
But he never could have imagined that the bastards who'd just turned the tables with such well-planned tactics would attack in a way this brute and reckless.
Even a cavalry charge from the old era was more "tactical" than this.
At the very least, they would size up the situation and charge with caution.
But right now, the 13th Regiment looked like a herd of boars suffering from a concussion, charging blindly in a wedge formation, not thinking at all as they tried to break through at one point.
"We have to stop the enemy! Form a tight formation!"
"Fire! Fire!"
Bang! Bang! Rat-a-tat-tat!
"Keep running straight ahead! Don't let the formation veer off course!"
Ernest shouted loudly from behind Isaac and the 3rd Company Baltracher, continually correcting their wavering direction.
It might not seem like a big deal, but if the line strayed even by a little, it could turn into a complete disaster. Right now, Ernest was reading the placement of the trees and charging forward while keeping in mind the formation of the troops following behind.
If their direction was off even slightly, the 13th Regiment's wedge formation would buckle, and in the blink of an eye, the force of their breakthrough would collapse.
With this kind of tightly packed wedge formation, once you plunged into the enemy camp, there was no turning back. Their own Allied Forces blocked any retreat from behind, and with the enemy on all sides, they'd have no choice but to endure a one-sided pummeling while being fully surrounded.
That's why this wedge formation charge was outright madness.
What kind of lunatic would try something like this in a forest full of obstacles!
"Just push straight through!"
"Uaaaagh!"
The two Baltrachers charged on without stopping, even as bullets struck their barriers, and the commander, moving around on legs as shaky as a newborn fawn, desperately tried to reposition his carefully arranged troops—only to have their formation plowed through and shattered.
"Keep running! Don't stop! Don't even think about firing!"
Right after breaking through the enemy formation, Ernest quickly assessed the situation.
Instead of giving the order to halt, he immediately commanded another charge—on top of that, he forbade them from firing to keep up their speed.
He had realized that Bertrand had deployed his troops in several loosely overlapping lines.
But even if you understood this, almost no one would dare to give such a reckless order to charge ahead.
Yet Ernest could see right through Bertrand's tactics and his countermeasures just by observing the spacing between the enemy lines.
"They must've tried to shape their formation like a trench line using the terrain."
Ernest recalled the trench warfare that marked the end of the Bertagne Forest battle.
It was exactly the same.
Cautious as ever, Bertrand, worried about a breakthrough, planned for it from the start and distributed his troops accordingly.
At first glance, this kind of deployment might look like piecemeal reinforcement, but in the northern part of the forest—where it was impossible to mass large numbers—it was the most effective way to slow down the Imperial Army's advance during a breach.
If the worst happened, the aim wasn't to stop the Imperials at all costs, but to delay them, buying time for information to reach Bertrand so he could respond.
But Ernest—the Mad Krieger—couldn't care less about all that, blasting through the thin first defensive line with a dense, old-fashioned wedge formation charge without ever stopping.
Looking at it this way, Soren wasn't exactly normal either—not when, instead of dragging out Ernest for shouting insanity about a breakthrough, he chose to send the 3rd Company in support.
"Don't stop, keep running! Even if you fall behind, keep running! If you stay here, you'll just end up isolated and dead! Charge! Charge!"
For the first time since fighting as a new officer at the tail end of the First War of Conquest, Soren was giving this his absolute all.
Anyone watching could see just how fiercely he was leading the 1st Battalion.
Soren was running right on the heels of the 2nd and 3rd Companies, personally shoving and pulling along any stragglers, spitting out his words in a red-faced frenzy as he drove the soldiers forward.
"Aaaagh!"
"Run! Don't stop!"
At the front, Captain Fox was pointing the way and leading the charge himself, while directly behind him the Battalion Commander worked with all his might—physically guiding the soldiers, pushing and pulling them onward.
For the soldiers, seeing Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann—who, in reality, often handed off work to his highly capable subordinates and took it easy—leading them so passionately was enough to set their hearts ablaze.
I can't die here!
I can't die here!
Once this war is over, I'll be able to go back to a cushy rear post—there's no way I'm dying here!
But right now, Soren's mind was consumed with just one thought: however he managed it, he had to survive this crisis and get back to that easy life.
This reckless breakthrough could only succeed if everyone worked together in perfect unison.
If anyone hesitated or slowed down, the 1st Battalion at the front of the 13th Regiment would surely suffer devastating losses—and the forest infiltration plan would fail too.
"I will make it back alive!"
"Waaah!"
Not for honor or glory, but just to make it back alive—in truth, Soren was shouting that he alone would survive, but his subordinates misunderstood him and were deeply moved.
Inspired, the soldiers of the 1st Battalion bravely charged forward, risking their lives in their desperate bid to survive.
Their battle cries thundered like the storm, their momentum resembled a raging tempest, and the force with which they crashed through the enemy was like a mighty river surging ahead.
"Don't stop! Keep running! We have to protect our allies' backs!" \
"Open fire! Fire—!"
Sticking close behind Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann, the 1st Company covered the flanks as they protected the rear of the 2nd and 3rd Companies up ahead, unleashing a hail of bullets to either side.
If the 1st Company failed to hold back the enemy, the 2nd and 3rd Companies would be instantly cut off. They also needed to clear a path for the 2nd Battalion coming up from behind.
The 1st Company's timely suppressive fire, though brief, made a huge difference—it thwarted the enemy's attempt to regroup after the 2nd and 3rd Companies passed through, stopping them from cutting off the 2nd Battalion and isolating the 1st.
"Kaufmann! Have you completely lost your mind?!"
Once the frontline started charging, the 2nd Battalion Commander, who had been frantically rushing after them without fully grasping the situation, finally realized what was happening and was utterly shocked.
He never imagined the usually cautious Soren would resort to such a reckless move.
Even the Rangers, who had spotted the enemy and were preparing for battle, were so taken aback by the situation that they hesitated, fumbling just to keep up at the rear of the 1st Battalion.
"B-Battalion Commander Sir! What are your orders?"
"W-… Charge! Charge! Protect the rear of the 1st Battalion! We can't afford to lose our nerve and fall back here!"
"C-charge! Charge!"
"Uwaaah!"
The 2nd Battalion, gritting their teeth, charged after the 1st Battalion.
But once they were actually charging, they found the enemy's resistance to be shockingly weak.
The 1st Battalion had powered through the ranks, taking the brunt of the enemy's attack and breaking through the formation with sheer force.
From the Belliang Army's perspective, they barely managed to fire their guns before the enemy was already deep in their rear.
"It's—It's Krieger! Krieger's here!"
"Run!"
Then, in front of the forest near Lanosel, some of the Belliang soldiers who had suffered badly at Ernest's hands and then defected to Konchanya recognized Ernest.
Horrified, they cried out, and by that point, the confusion among the Belliang troops was at its peak.
The moment someone shouted "Krieger," Belliang soldiers spun around to look at Ernest, and, like five-year-olds witnessing the shadow monster from "Scary Stories for Children Pact" actually break out of the closet and come running, they screamed and began to flee in a panic.
Having the wedge shatter through their formation would have been devastating enough, but now, even Ernest was there in front of them.
Memories of past encounters flashed before the Belliang soldiers' eyes.
The situation was all too familiar to them; convinced that defeat was inevitable, they gave up the will to fight without even making a real stand.
Bertrand had done everything he could given the circumstances.
He'd carefully examined the terrain himself and deployed his troops accordingly, followed all the proper tactics to limit the variables, and even planned for the contingency of the formation being breached.
But as a result, the formation's density had been lowered, and they were easily pierced by Ernest—Mad Krieger's—insanely bold, almost deranged, high-density wedge formation's single-point breakthrough.
Given the current paradigm of warfare—where bunching up is the surest way to be massacred—Bertrand's decision truly seemed like the right answer.
But one must never forget: there is no such thing as a "right answer" in military science.
The fog of war had swallowed everything, and in that mist, the one who could see farther than others was the one making decisions and commanding on the field in real time.
At least in this moment, even a New Platoon Leader wouldn't have considered such a barbaric, high-density wedge formation. Yet it turned out to be the closest thing to the "correct answer" for tearing through Bertrand's meticulously arrayed troops.
Ernest was, after all, just a Company Commander—planning and executing tactics of this scale should have been impossible.
But, thanks to Soren, who trusted Ernest's reckless decision and backed him up, the 1st Battalion was able to pull off this mad feat.
And because Levin put Soren at the front of the 13th Regiment, the 2nd and 3rd Battalions were forced to charge in right behind, whether they wanted to or not.
With so many unpredictable variables at play, the 13th Regiment smashed straight through the formation Bertrand had crafted with such painstaking effort—in the blink of an eye.
"Hold!"
"Hold!"
There was hardly any resistance at the rear defensive line, so they broke through with ease. And so, with even victory and their homeland snatched away, poor Bertrand, who had clung to his last sliver of hope, had it brutally wrenched away by Ernest, who now brought this mad charge to a halt.
The 2nd Company stopped dead at the command of their great Captain Fox, panting for breath and swallowing dryly as they quietly awaited further orders.
"Battalion Commander Sir! Please switch out the vanguard!"
Ernest shouted loudly over his shoulder.
The 1st Battalion—and especially the 2nd and 3rd Companies—had burned through too much stamina breaking through the enemy head-on.
They couldn't block every attack with the Balt Shield, so casualties did occur, and the Baltrachers were exhausted as well.
If they kept charging at the front like this, they would soon be too worn out to continue.
And Soren responded to Ernest's request with an answer even greater than he had hoped for.
"The 1st Battalion will fall back! The 2nd Battalion will take the lead!"
Ernest, who had learned the bitter lesson not to trust people easily, was now ten times more moved by Soren's words.
Surely everyone in the 1st Battalion felt the same way.
"My God! Are you out of your mind?"
The 2nd Battalion Commander, who had stopped as soon as the 1st Battalion did, could only stare in shock at Soren's order.
The 1st Battalion had smashed through the enemy formation with this insane, single-point charge, and now all that was left was to race through the empty forest to support the 14th Regiment.
There was no way Bertrand could have anticipated this and placed extra troops here.
If they kept going and made it to reinforce the 14th Regiment, the 1st Battalion would gain unmatched glory in this battle, the kind of military achievement no one else could dream of.
In fact, this battle could be called a one-man show for the 1st Battalion.
It would be remembered as their greatest triumph since breaking through the Bertagne Forest.
And yet, for Soren to cast that aside with his own hands meant he really had to be out of his mind.
Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann, commander of the 13th Regiment's 1st Battalion, answered the 2nd Battalion Commander's incredulous question with unwavering resolve.
"I am absolutely sane! The 1st Battalion fought at the very front and gave everything we had. We endured heavy losses, and for us to keep leading the charge now would be reckless!"
"...Heavens!"
The 2nd Battalion Commander let out a deep exclamation at Soren's resolute words.
Reflecting on how he had once chased after glory and pressured his subordinates, he felt a pang of regret.
The soldiers of the 1st Battalion, too, who overheard Soren's words, were so moved that some of them found their eyes welling up, chests heaving with emotion, their lips trembling and quivering as they struggled to hold it all in.
Battalion Commanders held the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, and Lieutenant Colonels were always, of course, noblemen by birth.
But just who would give up the highest credit in this crucial battle simply to protect the insignificant lives of commoner soldiers?
His integrity shone dazzlingly, and his humility—to forgo personal glory purely for victory—was a quality any commander should respect and aspire to follow.
'Now all we have to do is hold out without charging ahead while 2nd and 3rd Battalions take the brunt. Who could force 1st Battalion to fight on after everything we've done, even if the others are bloodied?
The real fight is still to come, anyway.
The enemy has noticed the situation, and they'll do everything they can—so the next battle will be brutal.
But if we can avoid that next clash just by making this one charge, then we stand to gain a tremendous advantage!'
Had anyone known Soren's true thoughts, they would have glared at him with stony faces.
But there were no First-Class Baltrachers here who could read minds.
So after boldly smashing through the enemy lines, scattering them in a single charge, and then yielding the lead with a solemn expression and a resolute gaze, Soren appeared to everyone as a heroic and wise commander who had selflessly sacrificed his own achievements for victory and for his men.
Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann's great decision would go down in the manuals of the Imperial Army, sung of for generations to come.
Who would dare belittle such a feat?
"Sob… Battalion Commander, sir…!"
"To go this far for us…!"
The 1st Battalion soldiers, choked with emotion, wiped the tears from their reddened eyes, watching as the Rangers and the 2nd and 3rd Battalions marched past them.
"Stop crying and drink some water. But don't drink too much—we'll have to run again soon."
Even in the midst of this emotional wave, Ernest alone spoke calmly.
He was glad they were allowed to retreat, but felt no emotion whatsoever at Soren's words—words that came, after all, from the one who shattered the Beekeepers Alliance through a ruthless act of betrayal.
That was because, from the beginning, Ernest had always known exactly what Soren was thinking when he said those things.
Ernest looked at Soren and let out a small sigh.
Soren had committed an outright betrayal by unilaterally dissolving the Beekeepers Alliance.
Still, Ernest decided he wouldn't dwell on that cunning betrayal, since Soren had trusted him enough to pull off that reckless breakthrough and—albeit for his own safety—had withdrawn the 1st Battalion to the safety of the rear.
Anyway, seeing how things were unfolding, Soren's sweet dream of leeching off imperial tax money and living in luxury seemed completely shattered.
'I'll make sure I never end up like that.'
Resolutely, Ernest swore to himself as he watched Soren, who, unaware his dream had been destroyed—unaware, even, that it was Ernest himself who had shattered it—was simply relieved for the moment's safety.
Yet even Ernest had not fully realized the consequences of what he had just done.
"So you said you wouldn't seek promotion… but now it looks like you're set on becoming the youngest Field Officer Rank Officer?"
Robert muttered this as he looked at Ernest, more than a little perplexed.
Honestly, I have no idea what goes on in his head.
Has he lost his mind?
The more talented a person is, the more likely they are to underestimate themselves, to chalk up remarkable achievements to nothing more than luck.
That's just humility, from thinking everyone else must be just as capable.
***
"Don't fall back! We have to hold the line!"
The 14th Regiment, which had boldly charged into the forest, now found itself caught in a crisis it could never have anticipated.
Although it was the 14th Regiment that had initiated the assault, they quickly realized they were on the defensive, struggling desperately just to avoid being driven out of the woods.
When they first broke through the enemy's fierce resistance and seized part of the forest, it never occurred to them that it could be a trap.
The deception was that convincing.
Even someone as cautious as Levin might have hesitated, only to give the order to attack when he judged victory possible.
Having driven deep into enemy territory, the 14th Regiment had fallen into Bertrand's trap and was now surrounded on three sides, continually forced into a fighting retreat.
"Go on—cling to your useless hope and keep holding out, only to break and die in the end."
Watching the 14th Regiment take heavy losses in order to hold out until the 13th arrived, Bertrand muttered to himself with indifference.
He could have pressed his advantage and attacked their rear to complete the encirclement, but the current situation suited him too well to bother.
If he surrounded the enemy's rear as well, the enemy would resist all the more fiercely, causing him to lose precious Belliang soldiers. Instead, all he needed to do was slowly grind them down from three sides in this favorable terrain.
The 14th Regiment was taking massive casualties, while the losses for the Belliang Army were so minimal as to be almost negligible.
Aside from the initial losses while faking a retreat, the Belliang Army had barely suffered a scratch since the 14th fell into the trap.
Bertrand was holding back half his troops to guard against an Imperial Army attack from the east, and so he had to fight sparingly since Konchanya's support had not provided many Balt Batteries.
Despite this, simply by checking the field himself and issuing orders, he easily gained the upper hand against the well-supplied 14th Regiment, which was brimming with resources.
'By now, the battle in the east must have been decided as well.'
Bertrand took a deep breath and let out the anxiety that had been filling his chest.
He had carefully laid out his tactics and positioned his forces to guard against any enemy infiltration from the east.
Most importantly, Estelle was out there.
He would easily crush the enemy and come back with their supplies as spoils of war.
'I was worrying too much. Right, there's no way there could be two people like that bastard.'
At last, Bertrand relaxed and allowed himself a gentle smile.
Victory was his.
"Enemy sighted, sir! Your Excellency! The enemy is attacking!"
In that moment, someone's desperate shout shattered Bertrand's victorious reverie.
Startled as if he'd been struck in the chest by a sudden surge of anxiety, Bertrand leapt to his feet.
Sir Jade, his bodyguard who had assumed he'd collapse, quickly caught him by the arm.
"Where? Where is the attack coming from?!"
Having lost every trace of his previous composure, Bertrand anxiously pressed, his lips trembling with unease.
"It's the northeast, sir! The enemy is attacking from the northeast!"
"…Northeast…?"
Bertrand suddenly froze at the courier's words.
He blinked slowly, then stared hard toward the east.
'Where did those troops come from?'
Bertrand realized that the Imperial Army entering the forest from the east was a decoy.
However, he couldn't figure out where those troops had suddenly appeared from.
Even Bertrand couldn't have imagined that anyone would be insane enough to push the supposedly protected Logistics Corps into the forest where the battle was about to take place.
"Your Excellency."
"…This is within our expectations."
When Jade called out to him, worried, Bertrand quickly collected himself and responded.
"Move the troops as planned."
"Your Excellency! It's an emergency!"
Just as Bertrand issued his orders and the commanders were about to respond, another courier came running up, shouting.
Bertrand felt as if his heart was about to stop from the shock.
But it would be fine.
Hadn't he prepared so thoroughly?
He had developed countless tactics, accounting for every possible situation.
Everything was within expectations.
"The northeastern defensive line has been breached!"
"…What?"
But he had never expected this.
The defensive line has been breached?
Already?
"When did you leave? That is, what's the time difference between when you set out and Ija set out…."
"Immediately! I left immediately!"
Bertrand, who had been struggling to grasp the situation by considering how fast the courier had come running, blinked in surprise at the answer.
They sent a courier to report the enemy's attack, and then, right after, sent another courier saying the defensive line had already been breached?
"What are you talking about? Are you mistaken? It almost sounds as if the multiple defensive lines we prepared didn't slow down the enemy at all, and they just broke through."
Bertrand forced a smile as he asked the courier, though his face was drenched with cold sweat.
He felt as if he were being sucked into a sticky swamp.
He wanted to believe he was overreacting.
"It's Krieger! Krieger is there!"
"..."
But reality was cruel.
They had to win this battle, no matter what.
So, Bertrand did everything possible to secure victory, and Konchanya, having seen it all, trusted that Bertrand would not be defeated and entrusted him with the forest.
But now, everything had fallen apart.
Bertrand felt a despair as if the ground were collapsing beneath his feet.
"Your Excellency!"
As everyone around him froze in terror, Jade supported Bertrand, calling to him in a loud and resolute voice.
Startled, Bertrand turned around to see Jade's blazing eyes.
Jade released Bertrand's arm and knelt on one knee in front of him.
"We have not been defeated yet! It's only a matter of time before the enemy here is wiped out, and the troops in the east will realize the situation soon and return!"
The knight, eyes shining, looked up at his lord and shouted.
"Just give the order! I, Jade, as your sword, will destroy the enemy and bring you victory!"
"...Sir Jade..."
Bertrand's lips trembled at Jade's words.
Color began to return to his corpse-like, pale face, and though he was still slightly stiff, a faint smile appeared.
Bertrand drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs.
Forcing himself to smile calmly, he spoke:
"You know, you have the important task of keeping me steady, don't you? Where do you think you're going, leaving me here? If I stumble and get hurt, it'll be all your responsibility."
"…Ah, no, that's not…"
"That's right, we haven't lost yet. We still have troops left to fight with."
Once a member of the fallen royal family and no longer even Count Lafayette, Bertrand managed to shake off the shadows of his nightmare thanks to his loyal knight's shining eyes.
His face, radiating with renewed resolve, was as clear as the autumn sky.
"We're changing the plan. If Krieger has arrived, we'll fight in a way that's suited for him."
Bertrand admitted to himself that the devil from Hell—the very one he had once believed he had banished to the farthest reaches of the Abyss, never to see again on the battlefield—had clawed his way back.
And instead of fleeing in terror, he resolved to face it head-on with the light within him.
He would not fall and rot away to dust in defeat.
He would rise, claim victory, and resurrect his homeland.