As a commander, it was not easy to give up high ground that secured your view while on the march. In that sense, when the Rihinstetten commander discovered a hilly region and decided to cross it, that was only natural.
"Advance."
He had not relaxed the perimeter watch, but there was no trace of Naurillia's army. Not the slightest. Naturally, that meant the enemy would find it hard to prepare.
'By then, Rihinstetten's army had already broken through the Demon-lands.'
The commander believed that this single sentence would become the opening line of his autobiography.
The Demon-lands were rough and dangerous, but not hopeless. The paths twisted and it was hard to keep your bearings, but it was still bearable.
'I didn't know such a route existed either.'
His own army's morale was overflowing. The words "the High Pontiff's blessing" were spreading through the ranks. Half of it was what the commander had intended, and the other half was what the soldiers themselves were flapping their tongues about.
'Even in hell, the High Pontiff watches over us!'
The Demon-lands were hell. Even without exaggeration, for someone, those words would be flawless truth.
As they walked through that hell, the monsters they met opened the road for them. In payment of black blood, they did not crave red blood. Monsters and beastmen opened the way. If soldiers who had gone through all of that were not excited, they would not be human.
"Uwooo!"
The giant unit that Rihinstetten prided itself on let out a wild roar. Even when they heard that roar, there was no killing intent in the monsters' dull black eyes.
Some of the ghoul packs charged in blindly, but no monster that could truly threaten the army dared to attack.
"Even in hell!"
"The High Pontiff!"
That was why such a chant had been born. Just like that, they broke through the Demon-lands and began their march.
Even without monsters and beastmen, the air in the Demon-lands was foul, and the ground was sodden. It was not an environment where people could comfortably remain.
Some races, like giants and Frogs, endured it reasonably well, but for humans and fairies it had surely been a torment. It had been three days since they broke through such Demon-lands and set foot on ordinary ground. The march was smooth. Even though more than a thousand troops were on the move, it was no different from a journey.
'This is no time to let your guard down.'
The commander did not. Moreover, this unit included two knights, but he did not think that alone would solve everything. Rihinstetten's commander was a clear-headed man. He understood his role and fulfilled it.
That was why he was moving forward while carefully scanning his surroundings.
There was no need to increase the marching speed. The High Pontiff had said he did not intend to drag this war out, but there was no need to rush and suffer needless losses either.
The commander cast his gaze wide.
'In open ground, we're easy to see.'
On the other hand, once you crossed hills or rises, they were good for hiding your army, and in reverse, they made it easier to secure a view. From high ground, you could see anything better.
He could not simply work the knights like drudges, so instead he sent out a constant stream of scouts, including soldiers with sharp eyes, moving ahead of the main body.
"There is no sign of anything."
The adjutant, who had collected the scouts' reports, spoke.
"What about the route of advance?"
The terrain had changed in various places compared to the map. This region looked as if it had suffered several natural disasters.
'Several hills have formed.'
It was not rough terrain. Moderate hills were easy to climb, and once you were on top, you had effectively secured a vantage point, so there were many gains. In that sense, the natural disasters had helped.
"We should take a route that avoids the forest to the east."
"That side is good for enemy ambushes, and even without ambushes, monsters and beastmen are likely to emerge in the forest."
The commander had five adjutants. All of them were there to fill in the gaps in his own thinking.
They chose the most rational and advantageous route and advanced. They took the best route for marching. They picked a path so well that if a man named Ragna from some knight order had been in charge, it would have been unimaginable.
If time passed like this, supply would become an issue, but that was something that could be solved just by encountering a single city.
'Pillage.'
To begin with, their troop numbers were not that high. Instead, they had brought only a fast-moving, elite-force detachment.
Setting aside the two knights, there were thirty giants, fifty cavalry armed in chain mail, and the unit they used as scouts was the Horseshoe Infantry, whose capability for small-scale operations was the best in the south and whose brawling was first-rate. Their number alone was two hundred, on top of which there were ordinary infantry as well.
They were part of the Purple Legion of the five-colored Banner Army. The total strength brought here numbered one thousand two hundred from that Purple Legion.
Even without the giant unit, they had two of the special siege units that the Purple Legion boasted of.
Most of them were infantry, but that much was enough. Because they had two knights with them.
"Even though there is not a single soul here to welcome us, it feels as if we have been invited in."
One of the adjutants spoke. His attitude was soft and squishy.
Whack!
The commander swung his riding whip through empty air. The strips of leather tied in several tails at the end tore the air with a loud sound.
"Invited?"
That was not the sort of line you wanted in an autobiography.
"I will correct myself."
The adjutant bowed his head.
They were advancing far too easily. That planted flowers in their heads. Softness invited carelessness. The commander did not want that. He was a hard man.
He was a true soldier who knew how to repeat the cycle of minimizing losses while taking gains.
No matter what the commander said, it was inevitable that the unit's mood would loosen a little.
They passed through a forest and by three small ponds where water had collected in suitable hollows. Now, in front of them, a hill that was relatively higher than those they had crossed so far blocked their way.
"Go over."
The knights did not permit wasting time. The commander could not ignore a knight's opinion.
Above all, if they tried to go around the hill in front of them now, they would have to waste time.
'A war that doesn't need to be drawn out.'
Their objective was not the capture of the capital but a strike. That alone would turn Naurillia into a pot of stew made by a greedy novice cook, a confused mishmash where all sorts of ingredients floated around.
"Send the Horseshoe Infantry."
Even so, the commander did not forget caution. The two knights did not criticize that.
"There is nothing."
They crossed one hill. There was no sign of the enemy nearby. The two knights said nothing special either. They moved on. Another hill blocked their way. Should they go around? No, there was no need.
For a moment, his eyes met one knight's, and the knight's brows drew together. It seemed something displeased him. The commander again sent out the scouts. That delayed them a little, but there was no enemy.
"Advance."
Once they got past the hills, the road was well flattened and easy to walk. There was not a trace of swamp or difficult ground. The land, covered in dark earth, looked as if someone had personally taken the trouble to smooth it flat.
But who would do such a thing?
In a place like this, with no cities nearby and nothing at all around, there was no reason to waste manpower and krona on public works-level labor. Therefore the commander did not become suspicious.
It was after they crossed four more small hills and two large ones.
"There is no detour."
Suddenly, a narrow road with its left and right blocked appeared before them. It was a ravine. To go around it, there were two ridgelines that would take a great deal of time to cross, waiting ahead as if lying in ambush. The commander's eyebrows twitched.
"Send the Horseshoes."
The Horseshoe Infantry went out again. The slope was too steep to climb the ravine's walls. Should they go around and check if anything was hidden?
A hundred Horseshoe infantrymen simply passed between the ravine's sides. Nothing happened.
"We cannot afford to waste time here."
One knight spoke. The commander agreed.
They marched straight through the ravine. One of the knights turned his gaze left and right.
"There is no ambush."
That was a knight's eye. It was hard to deceive that. Of course, it was not impossible. Calling it "hard" also meant there were people who could do it.
How long had they walked? It was when the entire main body was swallowed up inside the ravine.
Rumble.
There were no people atop the cliffs, but there were enough enemies to hide their presence from the knights.
"...Rocks!"
The commander's eyes widened. With a rumbling sound, rocks large enough to squash ten people like nothing shook off dust and stretched as if waking from a nap above the ravine.
It was a landslide. Rocks rolled down and earth collapsed. That was not all. From a section where the road curved so that the view ahead did not open up—that is, from a place that neither the knights' eyes nor ears could reach—something large began to fly toward them with booming thuds.
"Humph!"
One of the knights snorted.
"Uwooh!"
At the same time, the thirty giants called the Beasts of Red Blood formed up in a battle square.
"All troops, prepare!"
The commander shouted, willing to shred his own throat. Rolling rocks cut between the scouts and the main body.
Rumble-rumble-rumble! Crash.
"Damn it!"
The cavalry could not find a path to dodge the rocks. Some charged forward, but the rolling stones were faster than horses.
Crunch, crack.
Soldiers who were caught directly beneath the rolling boulders could not even scream.
"Gyaaaah!"
"You sons of bitches!"
Only those whose legs or arms were caught had the chance to let out a scream. Dust billowed up. Clouds of dust filled the surroundings and blocked their view. Even in a situation where his field of vision had narrowed so much that he could barely make out the men standing beside him, the commander kept shouting over and over until he coughed harshly. Dust had gotten down into his throat.
***
'If you see an easy road, a good commander takes it.'
Once you have been lured in that far, it is hard to turn back.
If you are leading knights, it is even more so.
This was the result of long years of effort. Marcus had prepared for a war that might never happen, and he had imagined the existence of some commander whose name he did not even know.
Even if all of this ended in vain, an empty waste of krona, he had prepared.
He filled in swamps and paved roads, gathered earth and sand and stones to pile them beside the hills that had originally been there, and guided the enemy. It was a trap built over time. Even a knight would have found it hard to feel a sense of déjà vu. That was how he welcomed the enemy in this ravine called "Serpent's Whim."
It had not been easy. For this, he had drawn heavily on the royal family's wealth and poured out so much krona that the Baisar marquisate had nearly staggered.
'If we hadn't had one foot in the western trade route, the house would have gone under.'
All these preparations that had been on the verge of ending in futility had now seen the light. If he was not pleased, he would not be human. It was hard to shout with joy right this moment, but things were going as he wished.
Of course, there were not only good aspects. To carry out this operation, he needed people who had resolved themselves to die. In terms of chess, they were the bait to lure the enemy.
"Sir Aisia, have you no regrets?"
"It's better that I do it than someone else doing it and failing, Marquis Baisar."
It had been a short conversation they'd had just before all of this began. Aisia in the red cloak headed into the ravine alone.
The core of this entire operation was to send down the rocks hidden in the earth. If you hid a whole unit on the cliff top, they would be discovered. But if it were only one or two people, even for the enemy knights it would be hard to find them.
He needed someone who could replace the strength of dozens of soldiers and still evade a knight's gaze, someone no one else could substitute for.
Aisia had taken that role. She cut the rope at the starting point of the rockfall and sprinted.
They had also hidden three catapults, having installed them here permanently and then covered them with yellow-brown cloth for camouflage. They loaded rocks into those catapults and hurled them.
'In a confused situation, can they really block rocks falling from the sky?'
He might not be able to kill the knights, but he should at least be able to land a blow on that unit. If his luck was good, then even the knights...
Boom!
A thunderous sound cut off his thoughts. Through the dust cloud, a chunk of broken stone bounced away in all directions. One mass, wrapped in yellow-brown fog, struck a catapult.
Boom!
"Aaagh!"
From that impact, the head of the soldier standing beside the catapult burst, and his limbs were severed and flew through the air. Marcus spurred his horse and stood at the bent end of the ravine, watching all of it.
"Retreat!"
He shouted. The soldiers near the catapults all fell back. Every movement was swift and without interruption thanks to years of training.
"Back! Back!"
"Fall back!"
Through the yellow-brown cloud came more booming crashes and two more chunks of stone. Without fail, they struck the catapults and smashed them.
'From a place they can't even see, and they still manage that.'
This was why knights were a calamity. They were good at doing things that far surpassed human imagination.
They shattered the rolling rocks and knocked the pieces away to destroy the catapults. Even seeing it with your own eyes, it was hard to explain, and yet they did it as if it were nothing.
"Pour it."
Marcus gave the next order. Now it truly began. This was how ordinary soldiers fought.
Gush-gush-gush.
Oil spread across the ground. It was the place the enemy would have to pass after they came out of the ravine. Did he think rolling a few boulders would kill them all?
Of course not. The number killed would not even reach a hundred. On top of that, hadn't the knights rushed in and immediately smashed the catapults?
"Archers."
Marcus gave another command.
Fwoosh.
The prepared fire arrows left the bowstrings. Where they fell, fire built a wall from the ground up.
Fwooooom!
The roar of the flames shook the air as if tearing the ears. A storm of fire blew. It was as if a god had become angry and was going to roast and burn everyone living on this land. Scarlet flames soared up and dyed Marcus's face red. It was something achieved not only by the oil but with the help of the magic tools laid out on the ground.
After rocks came flames. Was that the end? It was not.
"Roll them!"
Next came poison mist.
Rumble.
Carts bounced over stone fragments and rolled forward. Each cart was crammed with six oak barrels. If those barrels had been filled with liquor, there would have been enough for over a thousand soldiers to drink their fill.
"Burst them."
When Marcus spoke, two adjutants shouted.
"Loose! Loose!"
"Now! Burst them!"
As the rolling carts toppled to their sides and the oak barrels shattered, violet and green clouds of fog billowed up and filled the surroundings.
For this, Marcus had sought out the previous queen and asked the help of a witch who had once served as court magician and remained at her side. Handling poison was her specialty, and she did it with ease.
"Even for knights, if they drink a few mouthfuls, their bodies will be affected. I can't promise it will kill them, but they're still human."
Those were the words of the former court magician. Despite what she said, she wore confidence on her face that even knights would not dare ignore her poison.
'Come, then.'
Retreating, Marcus watched the enemy's movements.
Crash!
A roar like a city wall collapsing exploded. At that point, something utterly beyond Marcus's expectations happened, something he had not even thought of.
The ravine was narrow. Its entrance was blocked if ten horsemen stood abreast. That was why he had built a wall of flame across that entrance and laid poison fog before it.
And yet the roar did not come from straight ahead.
Crunch!
Before the dust from the rockfall had even cleared, another dust cloud was added.
'What is he doing?'
Marcus narrowed his eyes and watched the situation.
The enemy knight did not stubbornly cling to the front. He broke the side, the wall of the ravine.
It was true that the wall separated this side from that, but if that wall did not exist, what standard would there be to divide here and there? None.
People divide space with a single wall that way and make an entrance. If the entrance is blocked, what should you do?
'You make a new door.'
A simple truth, but one that is hard to think of. The enemy knight carried it out exactly. He ignored the wall of flame and the moat of poison fog and opened a new door.
Kwak-kwak-kwang!
The sound of that door opening was so loud that no one could ignore it.