Chapter 401 - Gaining the Upper Hand
The armies began to move at dawn.
It was a formation similar to yesterday's.
The wide, open plain served as the stage, and the wind blowing through became an observer.
Instead of those who had led the charge earlier, archers, infantry, and some cavalry formed the front lines.
Though they hadn't agreed upon it, the commanders at the forefront of both sides had decided to take the break of dawn as the signal to move.
Enkrid watched this as he walked.
It was a light step, almost like a casual stroll.
It wasn't really a walk in the park.
He had meticulously prepared his weapons—three swords and a whistle dagger.
There was something different, though. The position of his swords had shifted slightly.
Silver was at his left hip, and Fire was at his right.
Each was placed to match the characteristics of his hands, while his gladius was hung behind his back, with the belt looped to make it fit comfortably.
After the previous battle, the sword tip had been slightly shortened, so it was more practical to carry it this way.
It was a sword that had been cut off by about two finger lengths.
'I wonder if the dwarf who made this would be upset about it?'
They took great pride in their weapons, didn't they?
Just as fairies take pride in the trees, flowers, and plants they grow, calling themselves the children of trees and flowers, dwarves were the children of iron and fire.
Giants prove themselves through blood and carnage, being the children of hot blood.
Beastkin began their hunt for survival, making them the children of the mountains and fields.
Dragons stand alone, and thus are without parents.
Frogs risk everything for their dreams, making them the children of dreams.
Humans, however, have no symbolic parentage, and thus can become anything.
It was just a passing thought.
As Enkrid walked alongside the unit, he checked his gear.
He reviewed the position of his swords, the condition of the sword belt, and made sure the sword on his back didn't hinder his movement by adjusting his route.
'Block, dodge, strike.'
Deceive, strike, and beat down.
It was a mental review of the fight from yesterday, a virtual battle.
Though his limbs flailed about as he walked, no one cast an eye of complaint or ill-will at him.
"Are we fighting together again today?"
A soldier, who had been hesitant, finally asked.
The group of about fifty soldiers had stopped in the middle of forming ranks.
Their commander at the front asked. Fifty pairs of eyes turned to him.
Enkrid nodded.
He would fight the same men they had fought yesterday.
It was more of a gut feeling, but he was certain of it.
Although they had been defeated, the fire in those eyes had not diminished one bit. They would come again.
Having finished the mental review, Enkrid walked between the two units, considering his movement.
Behind him followed Rem, Jaxen, Ragna, and Dunbakel.
"It's cloudy, Boss," Rem remarked.
After finishing his review, Enkrid looked up at the sky.
It didn't seem like it would rain just yet, but the sky was indeed cloudy.
Dark clouds were approaching from the horizon, and their movement was fast enough to notice.
But still, there was no scent of rain. Dunbakel wrinkled her nose and spoke.
"It'll start tomorrow."
Ragna didn't seem to have any particular thoughts on the matter, and Jaxen, as always, wore a blank expression, unreadable.
Rem grinned, clearly excited.
"We're gonna shit ourselves."
Enkrid nodded at Rem's words, agreeing with him. It made sense.
It would indeed be a brutal and difficult battlefield. He had already spoken with Rem earlier in the morning.
"You know?"
"What?"
"If they had attacked right away yesterday, we would've been in a worse position."
There was no need to explain it in detail. Enkrid could understand it intuitively.
The enemy had formed their ranks, while their own side looked like they had formed ranks, but their discipline had yet to fully unite.
Yet, the enemy had pulled back.
Why?
Was it because their helmets were like mere helmet covers? No, it wasn't that. It was simple, really. There was no need for deep thought.
They had something prepared.
'Even if they had to sacrifice a day, it wouldn't matter.'
Enkrid had shared a similar thought with Marcus earlier.
Of course, Marcus understood the situation as well.
"I know. But it's an opportunity for us too. We needed the time."
The enemy had fewer numbers, and their training was lacking. On the other hand, the enemy had a unified command structure, while their side's command was still shaky.
Fortunately, thanks to Enkrid's efforts, the shaky parts were now functioning smoothly.
The mere presence of someone like him gave their side comfort and strength.
The heat and desire stretched in the right direction.
Marcus used all that to his advantage. Everything Krang had advised was put into action. As a result, the crows hadn't stopped flying all night.
In other words, the enemy had used the extra day to prepare, but their side also needed that time.
"So, that's why we cooked the meat."
Rem said, and Enkrid's thoughts quickly vanished. What did his words mean?
It meant he had shown off his cooking skills, likely in anticipation.
Even when killing the Immortal Madman, Rem had been filled with frustration.
Wouldn't anyone be?
They weren't fighting properly; they were chasing down someone fleeing.
Rem wanted a real fight.
A blood-soaked battle.
Desire and passion surged within him. He wanted to burn all of it and keep moving.
It was a campfire stacked with logs. It had burned so fiercely that the flames were nearly spreading everywhere.
'I'll fight and burn it all.'
To fight with everything, to burn one's soul—that's what a warrior should know.
Enkrid watched Rem with that look.
'What's going on with him today?'
It seemed that today his passion was a bit too much.
Of course, that was to be expected, but even Ragna felt the intensity, and Jaxen was the same.
Neither of them said much. Dunbakel seemed to be lost in thought, and Esther was perched with one eye peering above.
The two armies were on the edge of the archers' range.
The commanders of both sides shouted in unison.
"Fire!"
The arrows came first. The start of the battle, the signal.
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
The sound of drums and trumpets filled the plain, and above the noise, the arrows filled the sky.
Their side had five hundred longbowmen, while the enemy had more than a thousand.
The arrows launched from both sides met in the air.
They had taken straight and strong trees like oaks and pines, processed them into shafts, and attached metal tips and feathers with glue.
Thus, sharp-tipped, short wooden pieces that took lives.
Thud!
A soldier, unlucky enough to be hit by an arrow through the gap in his helmet, fell.
There weren't many like that, though.
The infantry at the front raised their shields diagonally to brace themselves.
"Hold them!"
The enemy moved first. As expected, Marcus had prepared for a counterattack, so this was the natural result. A group of cavalry broke away from the right flank of the count's formation.
"Charge!"
The cavalry was armed with lances. They attempted a charge.
If a cavalry charge breached the formation, it could lead to a defeat.
For the kingdom's army, the only way to have any chance of victory was to block every attack from the enemy.
"Run, move! Go there! Charge!"
The cry of their commander rang out. He had spotted where the cavalry was heading and gave orders for infantry to form a line in that area.
It was the same commander who had spoken to Enkrid earlier.
His mouth opened again.
"Pikes! Forward!"
Whoosh, whoosh!
The pikes were raised high, and with muscle strength in their arms, the soldiers thrust their spears into the ground, forming a wall.
The pike wall was the best strategy to catch cavalry.
By the time the enemy cavalry tried to turn around, it was too late.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
The thunderous sound of hooves pounded as the leading cavalry charged straight into the pike wall.
The spears pierced through the riders.
Blood splattered everywhere, and the sound of bones breaking echoed.
Most riders had died, but some of the riders had fallen sideways.
The speed of the charging riders became their own weapon, killing them instantly.
"Urrgh!"
"Ahhh!"
The screams made it clear that this place was a hellish battlefield.
Among the fallen riders, some barely survived, only for the allied soldiers to draw their long swords and stab and slash at them.
Thud! Snap!
"Die!"
"Bastard!"
Meanwhile, some riders had broken through the gaps in the spear wall.
The heavy cavalry was a weapon in itself. Being crushed by the weight of the riders and dying was a common occurrence.
In fact, even a single broken limb made it nearly impossible to survive.
Several riders fell on soldiers, making gaps in the spear wall. The soldiers on standby quickly filled these gaps with their spears.
"Charge! Charge!"
The enemy cavalry pushed forward with sheer numbers. Yet, the infantry who had formed the spear wall held their ground.
Though the soldiers at the center of the battle may not have realized it, from a commander's perspective, it was a great victory.
The beginning had gone well.
Marcus clenched his fists.
And then, the enemy forces moved again. A portion of the enemy cavalry emerged from their ranks.
"They really prepared everything."
It was a cavalry archery unit. There weren't many of them—just about fifty. But it wouldn't be easy to match their mobility.
"Just shooting arrows while retreating…"
They were all capable of such a feat. Despite their leader being killed by Enkrid's sword on the first day, these men were formidable fighters.
Their unit itself was threatening.
They rode out, aiming at the kingdom's commander.
A well-trained unit, their capabilities were evident to anyone watching.
It could be said they were the first blade prepared by the count.
Enkrid's gaze also fell upon them.
In the vast plain, the movements of the cavalry were easy to spot.
"If left unchecked, their damage could be significant."
He understood this in his mind, but it wasn't the time to act yet.
"Marcus isn't an idiot."
After observing the strategy meeting yesterday, Enkrid saw that Marcus's commanders were no slouches either.
No sooner had Enkrid thought this, than his own cavalry also emerged.
Though only a dozen or so, the leader at the front had bright orange hair.
The red cape fluttered in the wind.
It was Aishia and her squires.
Though they had claimed they wouldn't use knightly power, these were already seasoned warriors from the royal palace.
"For Naurilia!"
Aisia shouted. She and her squires charged forward, quickly closing the distance to pursue the cavalry archers.
The enemy fired arrows as they fled. Aishia raised her sword, deflecting the most dangerous ones.
Twisting her wrist, she moved her sword without even needing to rely on a shield.
Then, she chased them down, catching up to their rear.
With a swift slash, her sword severed one man's head. Before the head even hit the ground, Aishia's blade stabbed the back of another.
She darted to the side, stabbing and slashing relentlessly.
It was a fearsome display of power.
"Come at me till the end!"
As the number of enemy archers dwindled, a few enemy cavalry charged toward the squire squadron.
But that wasn't the end of it.
The enemy infantry began advancing, and among them, a few stood out with exceptional skill, heading toward Aishia and her squadron.
As the infantry began to rampage, more skilled individuals became noticeable, prompting Rem to take action.
"I'll go ahead!"
As Rem kicked the ground, his body seemed to elongate, propelling him forward with great speed.
It was a movement that required skill.
Of course, Enkrid knew how to do it as well.
Using the strength that could be called "superhuman," he didn't jump upward but instead transferred the power forward by stepping hard on the ground.
It wasn't an easy feat to perform.
Even Enkrid had spent countless days perfecting it.
Rem sprinted toward one of the infantrymen who had broken away.
The man saw Rem and changed direction, charging at him head-on.
The enemy wielded two hammers.
Rem pulled out his axe and swung it, while the opponent swung his hammers.
Bang!
With a tremendous noise, the infantrymen parted to create space between them.
In that moment, Enkrid noticed a shadow appear behind Rem.
A soldier who had been hiding among the retreating infantrymen jumped out, attempting to stab.
The movement was shockingly fast and precise. The thrust was sharp and difficult to predict.
Though it was an unexpected moment, Rem spun and dodged.
The blade grazed his back, but he evaded it, then swung his axe, forcing the opponent to retreat.
He didn't need help. If it was dangerous, he could escape; if not, he'd win. The one standing there was Rem.
"Let's reduce their numbers."
Enkrid shifted his gaze from Rem and spoke.
"That barbarian, always going straight for the vital points."
Ragna spoke as he stepped forward.
He aimed for the flank of the enemy infantry.
Step, step. The madmen squad had already moved to the side of the army formation, and they weren't drawing much attention.
Everyone else was being consumed by the madness of collective combat.
Enkrid watched Ragna's back.
After all, it was said that knights were disasters to commoners.
But what about Ragna, who had become so close to a knight?
He hadn't been injured, nor was he exhausted. He had filled his stomach well yesterday.
Ragna infiltrated the side of the enemy infantry. It almost seemed as if he was blending in with the crowd. He walked, then engaged.
In battles like this, there was no need to find a path.
You simply slashed anything that looked like the enemy.
The soldiers Ragna touched collapsed to the ground like bundles of straw.
With a quick flick, his sword severed the enemy soldier's neck. No screams, no surprise.
They didn't even realize when they died.
Ragna calmly swung his sword, and the enemy numbers began to dwindle.
With each swing, soldiers fell in a short time, and the enemy began to notice Ragna.
But nothing changed.
Knowing who he was actually worked against them.
It was like a reaper among the common soldiers.
Meanwhile, Enkrid noticed a few more enemies who were moving with purpose.
"Jaxen?"
"Leave them."
He was ready to handle them himself.
The enemy wasn't foolish. Their lieutenants had infiltrated among the regular soldiers, preparing for an assault.
It was a smart tactic.
The fewer, more elite forces hidden among the regular soldiers could wear down the larger army.
Whether the formation was in their favor or not, these special forces could turn the tide of the battle.
The key was to stop them before they could do that.
Jaxen chased down the individuals moving with purpose, while Enkrid walked into the enemy ranks again.
"What's this guy doing?"
Behind him, an enemy soldier, still not engaged in the battle, shouted as he tried to break formation.
Enkrid ignored him and kept walking.
A huge shadow appeared ahead of him. It was someone with the sun behind them, casting a large silhouette.
The man was enormous—bigger than Audin, even.
"My name is Benukt. I am a giant."
His voice sounded as if it echoed from a cave.
It was obvious he was a giant. From the moment he approached, the sight of him filled Enkrid's vision.
The man extended both fists, preparing to strike.
His posture reminded Enkrid of Audin.
Enkrid drew his sword high. The silver blade gleamed, not in the sunlight, but in the shadows.
Both men adjusted their stances, trying to read each other's breath, looking for the optimal moment to strike.
In that tense moment, Enkrid asked, "What happened to your leader?"
"Did he step aside for you?"
Benukt, ready to unleash his giant strength, launched himself forward.
Boom!
He slammed the ground with his feet, turning his body into a living projectile.
He flew toward Enkrid, intending to strike him with his shoulder.
It was the moment of impact.
Boom!
A loud sound rang out as the two collided.
Dust flew up, and soon, their figures became visible.
Neither one of them had stepped back.
They had collided with a shockwave, but both had endured, each carrying their own wounds.
Enkrid knew in that instant.
Benukt, the giant, wasn't as impressive as he looked.
It wasn't arrogance, nor was it a lack of confidence. It was a cold evaluation.
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