I Was Excommunicated from the Order of Holy Knights

Mansfeld

He had never regretted his life.
Though he had lived a life trampling those who sought help while betraying those who had lowered their heads, Mansfeld still prided himself that his life was just.
The strong tramples the weak, and the weak waits for a chance to bite the strong’s throat.
What matters is not a god’s grace or loyalty, but profit, and how well one can orchestrate and obtain it.
That was the principle of this world.
If you get caught up in hollow justifications, you’ll just miss out on opportunities.
Focusing on those things will prevent you from obtaining the benefits you truly need.

Throw away what needs to be thrown away and take what needs to be taken.
Cut down what needs to be cut fiercely, and use any means necessary to acquire what must be obtained.
This was the way of life that Mansfeld had pursued, and that’s how he had lived until now.
He could betray anyone at any time, and use anyone at any time…
A so-called free spirit, wild and unrestrained…
However, that meant he could never have trust and could not pursue stability.

“Man of Fortune”
That phrase fit Mansfeld’s life perfectly up to this point.
And now…
Mansfeld’s life of freedom was facing an end as futile and empty as a bird ablaze in the sky.

“Advance! Either way, if we retreat now, we’ll all die!”

“C-Commander! This is reckless! It might be better to retreat now!”

“That’s impossible! If we lose this war, we’ll have no way back! We will see this through today!”

“Mansfeld, Commander!”
Christian pleaded with a voice full of earnestness.
But despite her words, Mansfeld had already made up his mind.
Even in this dire situation, he had calculated everything in his head.
‘If we lose and retreat here, the opportunity for a comeback will vanish. My life will be over. The mercenary group I barely held together will crumble, and I will be torn apart by the hungry wolves seeking revenge. Rather than that…!’

Given the multitude of grudges he had accumulated, Mansfeld had no place left to flee.
In such a critical situation, he was forced to make the worst choice and began to push his horse forward.
“March! I, Mansfeld, will lead you! Sweep away all the enemies!”

A 7th Grade Mage and one of the continent’s renowned talents, Mansfeld.
Following his orders, the mercenaries began moving forward despite the unfavorable situation.
It wasn’t that courage sparked within them.
They knew well that they had no more room to retreat, and attempting to flee would only lead to certain death.
Thus, the reckless mercenaries resumed their foolish advance behind their foolish commander.

Just as they barely crossed the bridge, Valenshtein and his main force, having enjoyed plenty of fun from the bombardment, appeared before them in full formation.
“So, you’re that brat Valenshtein!”
“And you must be the infamous Mansfeld. The so-called king of mercenaries who can only stab others in the back while flaunting a grand title.”
“If that’s true, then you turned your back on your home, Bohemia, and attached yourself to the Emperor! In these chaotic times, such words hold no meaning. What matters is who stands victorious, wielding a sword until the end!”

Having finished that statement, Mansfeld drew his sword, showing he had no more words left.
At this, Valenshtein glared at him with a cold gaze.
Then…
“Charge!”
“Deploy the entire army! Wipe out those mercenaries!”

The battle began as commanded by both side’s leaders.
However, at first glance, the morale of both forces seemed roughly similar. Still, the outcome of the battle was practically decided before it even began.
About 30% of Mansfeld’s troops had disappeared due to the earlier bombardment, and his army could not even maintain a proper formation.
On the other hand, Valenshtein’s forces had been perfectly aligned and prepared to greet the enemies from the moment they had arrived.
In this situation, Mansfeld’s reckless charge was nothing more than the last desperate gasp of a dying beast.

“Gah!”
“Ugh!”
The bullets and spells fired by Valenshtein’s soldiers.
The advancing mercenaries could not even manage a proper defense and simply fell one after another.
It was a futile and thorough defeat, like waves crashing against a rock and disappearing.
Facing that reality, Mansfeld forced his way forward, shouting towards Valenshtein’s ranks.
“Kill them! Everyone, kill! In the name of God, we will punish these filthy dogs of the Emperor!”
Mansfeld shouted to the end, invoking the name of God.
But despite his cries, most of the soldiers who had followed him were either dead, attempting to flee, or starting to throw down their weapons in surrender.

The justification long since crumbled, fueled by greed and hubris. The bridge he had painfully dragged along finally came to a halt.
As they rapidly diminished, the corps of Mansfeld was visibly fading.
Yet in the center, Mansfeld shouted with a hollow but loud voice, charging forward alone.
The wall that had protected him from bullets and spells was about to crumble,
and his horse was slowly dying, wounded and unable to carry on.
It was clear to anyone that the end of the free spirit was near.

At that moment, the soldiers prepared for another bombardment against Mansfeld.
Then…
“Wait, capture him if possible. Despite his appearance, he is the notorious mercenary king who has caused great harm to the Empire, he must be brought before His Majesty for judgment.”
“Yes, understood, Commander.”
Following Valenshtein’s orders, the soldiers ceased their bombardment, and the mages began preparing capture spells for the rampaging Mansfeld.

Spells that could stop a horse’s movement and paralyze a person.
Although they took a bit of time to prepare and had a short range, they were effective for capturing weakened key personnel.
As the mages were about to cast spells on Mansfeld, who was just within range…

“Mansfeld, Commander!”
“!”
“W-wait! What is this…!”
In the next moment, a sudden group of forces appeared.
They swiftly blocked Mansfeld, forcibly pulling him away from the battlefield.
“Who are those guys?”
“I-I’m not sure… I don’t know the details…”
“That flag… It seems to belong to that woman. The crazy woman from Hilberstadt.”
“…Christian, damn it. You appeared at just the right moment.”

Valenshtein glanced at Paladin Otto next to him and began to show a slight bitter expression.
Christian, who had come to capture Mansfeld, showed up at the exact timing, making a lucky escape with him.
From their perspective, it was a stroke of luck, and Valenshtein could only feel regret at having missed such a big catch right in front of him.
“What will you do? If we pursue now, we might be able to catch them.”
Otto asked, his eagerness showing he was ready to act on command.
Valenshtein showed a moment of hesitation but shook his head, dissuading him.
“No, sadly, let them go. This practically marks the end for Mansfeld and the mercenaries anyway. We have more important things to do than catch a toothless wolf now.”
“Understood. I will do as you say.”

Otto answered sincerely, showing disappointment.
Seeing him, Valenshtein also offered a wistful expression before quickly reorganizing his troops.
“Reform the lines; our battle is not yet over.”
The battle at this location had ended.
However, Valenshtein was aware.
At this moment, the battle that would determine the outcome of the war was still fiercely ongoing.