NOVEL NEXT Chapter 31
My name is Mark, an ordinary soldier who lived as a destitute and has only served for a year in the army of Count Croilet.
Until yesterday, we repeatedly rested and trained in the barracks, and finally, the day for my very first battle was approaching.
At noon, with the sun shining brightly, our army moved to the plain across the river where we would fight the enemy.
Since the place we decided to camp was on the opposite side of the river, crossing it left my pants soaked up to below my knees.
Though it was slightly uncomfortable because of the wet pants, I could not voice any complaints now that I was standing at the front with my spear in hand.
I had to endure the “unpleasant environment,” as trained as a soldier.
Lost in those thoughts and diligently suppressing my complaints, Sergeant Jackson, standing next to me, grumbled.
“Damn it… Why do we have to cross the river? Can’t we just provoke the enemy into crossing it themselves? Right? Don’t you think, Private Mark?”
“Indeed, I agree.”
As soon as we crossed the river, our squad moved to the back of the formation as directed.
Once we formed a six-line shield wall with our spears, the crossbowmen holding shields slightly larger than their bodies crossed the river in front of us.
Then they planted shields that were slightly larger than their own in front of us, standing positioned a bit ahead.
Once they confirmed all the shields were planted, our lieutenant, the son of Sir Knight Frost, looked at us and began to speak seriously.
“The enemy is coming soon! However, as proud soldiers of Count Croilet, we must annihilate them as his subordinates! Therefore, soldier, put in your strength! Finally, shout loudly enough for the enemy to hear! Long live Count Croilet!!!”
After that, a brief silence followed, and then our squad began to shout.
“Long live!!”
“Smash the enemy!! Long live the Count!!”
“I will achieve merit in this battle! Long live the Count!!”
**
After some more time passed, enemies began to appear from a distance.
At such a far distance, the enemy looked like mere dots, but as they approached, they started to take shape.
They had two arms, two legs, a head, and a torso, just like us.
However, unlike our troops, many of their soldiers were armed not with proper equipment but with farming tools such as ‘pitchforks,’ ‘long forks,’ and ‘hoes,’ wearing thin tunics meant for tilling fields.
Moreover, looking closely, the spacing between their soldiers and their marching rhythm were mismatched.
Could such beings really become our opponents?
As those thoughts crossed my mind, our squad leader drew a sword from his left side and issued commands.
“All squad, lower your spears and form a shield wall! Once the crossbowmen withdraw to our left, we will advance slowly!”
Following that order, my squad moved to the front of the shield wall, aligning in a single row.
Then, leaving a gap enough for one person between me and the soldier next to me, our squad leader, Sergeant Jackson, lowered his halberd at an angle.
Seeing that, my body, as if on instinct from the training, extended my spear in unison with all of us following Sergeant Jackson’s lead.
By the time we completed this, the enemies had drawn close enough for us to identify the shapes of the helmets they were wearing.
As the sound of thousands of serfs marching seemed to shake the ground, the voice of Count Croilet boomed from the center of the infantry formation.
“Crossbowmen, fire!”
Once that command was issued, the commanders of the crossbowmen echoed the order, and shortly after, crossbow bolts flew toward the enemy and struck.
“Ugh!!”
“Mom!!”
“I want to go home…”
“Ugh… ugh…”
A few fortunate ones were shot in the arms and legs—though they didn’t die—but those struck in the neck or chest met their end, either giving one last cry or failing to scream at all.
The blood spilled by the dying soldiers began to stain the previously lush grass a deep red.
And after only a brief moment, the squad leader drew his sword and shouted loudly again.
“All squad members! Bow your heads!! Enemy arrows are coming!”
Once again, my instincts as a soldier kicked in, and I unconsciously bowed my head, following the training.
Then immediately afterward, enemy arrows began to rain down from the sky.
Praying that none would strike my body while I kept my head down, I heard a final cry from someone on my left in the squad.
“Ugh…”
I didn’t know who it was, but getting hit by an arrow… I shouldn’t end up like that…
Next, our crossbowmen retaliated, firing arrows at the enemy, and a few seconds later, the enemy returned fire with their arrows.
In the meantime, I was focused on avoiding being struck in vulnerable areas shielded neither by my helmet nor my breastplate, simply keeping my head down and waiting for the squad leader’s command to charge.
At least when we engaged with the enemy, I wouldn’t have to worry about enemy arrows striking me.
As though responding to that hope, the squad leader shouted victoriously.
“Sergeant Clark! Take the rear. I, Frost, will lead the squad! Follow me!”
With those words, our squad leader, adorned in a helmet and breastplate, standing at the forefront with his halberd, led us.
And finally…
“Bwooow!!!”
The sound of the charging trumpet echoed.
Without even issuing any orders, our squad leader began to move forward, halberd in hand.
Even though he was ten years younger than me, seeing him confidently march at the front with the halberd made me realize, ‘This is why he is the squad leader…’
It must be truly terrifying to stand at the front, but overcoming that to step onto the battlefield was the noble image I had envisioned.
And naturally, we too advanced a step, two steps, following in our squad leader’s wake.
Matching our pace to his, we soon reached the point where the tips of our spears met with the enemies’.
From that moment on, I was wielded by the collective of the “squad,” just as I had learned in training, like a machine held in the hands of a farmer.
When they thrust their spears, I did too, and when pitchforks, long forks, and hoes from the enemy approached me, I deflected them.
As several minutes of back and forth ensued, one of the enemy serfs lost control of the pitchfork he was holding.
Seeing him bend down to retrieve it, I naturally lunged forward, thrusting my spear just as I had been trained to do, and withdrew it.
The struck enemy let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Ahhh… s-save me.”
“Die, you filth! Serf bastard.”
The one I killed had his heart pierced, and blood gushed from his wounded chest.
Afterward, I again stood shoulder to shoulder with my comrade to ensure our survival on the battlefield.
Then soon afterward, an enemy emerged with his farming tool ready to confront us, though they were slightly delayed.
As that thought crossed my mind, the one behind the enemy I had just killed trembled and extended the farming tool he was holding.
At that moment, a slight gap formed, and I didn’t let it slip by as I thrust my spear into the enemy before me.
This time it struck the neck; that enemy would likely die without even being able to make a sound.
Having killed two enemies who were supposed to stand in formation, a small hole appeared in the enemy’s line.
Seeing that gap, I thrust my spear forward, stepping a pace, then another, to survive in this battle.
“Private Mark!! I’ve created a hole in the enemy formation!!”
Hearing those words, our squad leader looked at me with a face beaming with joy from beneath his helmet.
“Every squad, charge after Mark! We will annihilate the enemy formation! The squad’s flag bearer! Raise the flag so that Sir Balt can see! Just hold on a little more, and we will become the main force of this battle! Charge!!”
Following that command, I cast off the fear of dying and held my spear high, sprinting forward.
If there were enemies startled by my charge, I stabbed randomly, and soon enough, some enemies were fleeing, not even caring that their *archers were behind them.
As I stabbed one, two, three… quite a few enemies fell by my hand, and I soon found myself in a clear area with no enemies around.
Then, other soldiers followed me, gradually arriving at this place where the enemy was no longer present.
Seeing that scene, laughter erupted from me.
It was still too early to feel completely at ease, but the joy and exhilaration of surviving the hellish first battle mixed with the guilt of killing ‘innocent’ ones, albeit enemies, and empathy for those brutally slain brought out a laugh.
“Hahaha!! Damn, I survived!!”
Hearing that laughter, Sergeant Jackson came up beside me, patting my shoulder.
“Yeah, damn! If we broke through the enemy formation, there’s no way we’re going back now!! You’re a hero!! When we return, you can become a sergeant!”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah! Becoming a sergeant also means a raise, so marriage too…”
But Sergeant Jackson could not finish his sentence.
Because a ‘ground-shaking sound’ that was incomparable to the clashing of infantry just moments before was echoing throughout, albeit not directed at us…
And when I looked toward the sound, there…
The knights led by Count Croilet were charging toward the enemy knights.
The sunlight reflected off their shining silver armor, sparkling like stars, and the momentum of their charge…
It was as if I were witnessing the end of the world as described by the priests.
Moving neither too fast nor too slow…
A shining silver death.
**
It’s hard enough to charge with a lance, and now I had to lead the charge as a count…
Is this for real?
However, because of what Jack Frost and the other knights said with shining eyes, I was stuck in this position.
“Count, you only need to stand in the front line and hold the flag. Don’t worry and charge! And as long as you’re just careful not to be trampled by the horse, you won’t die as long as you wear the armor over your padded armor!”
In the actual wars in Europe, knights typically wouldn’t die easily, but…
For a count to have to do something like this…
However, to protect my territory that I, Siel von Croilet, have built and nurtured from those bastards, there is no avoiding it; I will charge fiercely.
With that determination, I readjusted the large flag bearing our count’s emblem in my right hand and raised it high with both hands.
And waving that flag, I commanded them.
“Knights of Croilet! Show those foolish and evil ones who think stealing from others and waging war is honorable the honorable fight of a knight, and make them repent! Charge!”