Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 58

Justus, the company commander in charge of an infantry company in the Highserk Empire army, drew the short straw in his role. After graduating from the military academy, he led a platoon to victories at the old Canoa front and the first Mayard border conflict, eventually being promoted to company commander.

However, Justus’s previously smooth military career began to show signs of decline. In the battlefronts of Mayard and Felius, where they were supposed to have been consistently dominant, Justus’s company was almost always forced into difficult battles. During the last year, in the invasion of Mayard, they faced dead soldiers, causing a delay in their advance, and in the pursuit battle of Felius, they suffered a counterattack by the enemy cavalry.

Even in the battle of the Sarajevo Fortress, the position they defended fell to the fierce attacks of the Crest Kingdom army. While managing to retreat his troops while evading the “Holy Strike” of one of the Three Heroes in the trenches and ridgelines, he lost half of his forces. After receiving reinforcements from former Mayard soldiers, they were engaged in reducing the number of monsters at Dandurg Castle, but nearly ended up isolated and stranded outside the castle.

When the siege at Dandurg Castle began and a general retreat was announced, Justus was appointed to the rear guard, a significant responsibility. However, given the current plans to rebuild the defensive lines in old Canoa, this role was seen as minimal, and he was considered a replaceable asset.

The only gain for him was the position of battalion commander, predominantly consisting of Mayard people – a role he stumbled into rather than earned. The value of such a position in wartime was questionable.

Emphasizing confidentiality, most company commanders and higher-ranked officers were gathered at the headquarters for a short period before the change. Those remaining in the castle corridors, like Justus, were selected for the rear guard. They were seen as expendable, possessing sufficient command ability but not critical for the survival of the Highserk Empire.

Justus, who had earned a certain level of trust from Mayard soldiers and militia alike by treating them without bias, found it ironic that he had to lead a retreat battle, essentially sacrificing the very Mayard people.

“If only this were an illusion,” Justus thought as he saw the burned tower, which housed the brains and limbs of the brigade. With the loss of command under siege, defeat was inevitable.

The problem was that the enemy was not of human kind. Surrender was meaningless against monsters, who would simply devour them. The only option was to break through the siege using his company as the core.

The Flame Emperor Dragon had ignored Dandurg Castle and invaded towards the homeland, with half the surrounding monsters following it. The broken castle walls were swarmed by monsters, creating an uneven siege line. This was the last chance to break through the weakest point.

“Send a message to—”

Just as he was about to issue an order, Justus caught sight of a group continuing to reinforce the collapsed castle walls. The group, a mix of civilians and prisoners, was nothing if not diverse.

“What foolishness,” he muttered.

It was impossible to hold. Logically, a battalion-sized force was needed to support a half-destroyed wall, and double that when considering reserves.

The groups collided. The group, which should have been overrun and disintegrated by the monsters, held on. Why could they fight in this situation? Was a battalion-class commander still alive?

As Justus was captivated, the walls were engulfed in flames again. Unlike the devastating flames of the Flame Emperor Dragon, these rising fire columns were blue. They were real, the “Hellfire Beacon” skillfully controlled by a knight, meant to boost morale in war.

“So it’s the ‘Demon Fire’…”

He was aware that he, like a moth drawn to the flame, was being lured by the heat and the blue flames. A siege with no retreat or backup was a bad move, akin to suicide.

Yet Justus found himself thinking. Maybe with that blue flame, they could hold out. Before he knew it, he was issuing orders as if breaking a dam.

“Send orders to the guards on all sides of the castle walls! Extract company-sized units from the garrison and hold the east wall at all costs!”

“Take control of the reserve troops in the castle while the extracted troops hold the east side! Gather all surviving platoon leaders and above! Move now, waste not a second if you don’t want to die!”

Orders spread throughout the castle as Justus’s subordinates followed his command.

He knew it was an overstep of authority. But in the chaos, with everyone in a disgraceful scramble, someone had to take action. If a higher-ranking officer had survived, they could take over the troops he had gathered. If there was to be punishment, then so be it, if he was still alive to receive it.

They were cornered with no way out. Justus, often criticized by superiors for lacking drive, realized he was smiling.

“I’m smiling? In this situation?”

The muddied, chaotic world seemed vivid to him. Blood, fire, and iron seemed to bless Justus.

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Every swing of Fleck’s heavily reinforced great shield with “Iron Wall” sent pieces of flesh flying in all directions. He crushed an orc attempting to grapple him head-on with a shield bash and pierced the heart of a goblin with the sharp tip of his shield. Fleck felt the sensation of bones shattering and organs being crushed in his hand.

Blunt weapons excelled in sustained combat. They wouldn’t dull easily, were resistant to chipping, and were incredibly durable. Fleck stomped and crushed the skeletons climbing over the castle walls with his boots.

Normally, the vanguard would be composed of Al, Fleck, and Lefty. Lefty, who also served as a scout, was trusted to guard their backs due to his extensive field of vision and numerous combat techniques.

Lefty had left the party with Leetia. In the battle against a fierce warrior from the Highserk Empire who wielded “Strong Strike,” Fleck had lost an eye.

His reaction was inevitably slower on one side. A bicorne with two twisted horns nimbly stepped on corpses and charged from the side. Fleck lowered his stance, bracing for the impact.

As the great shield and twisted horns scraped against each other, a grating noise scattered in the air. The force of the bicorne’s charge weakened Fleck’s grip, causing his posture to falter and his boots to wear down.

“Grrrr, ugh!”

If he had been in perfect condition, he might have been able to crush the bicorne with his shield before it closed the distance. But now, he found himself in a deadlock without a decisive move.

Even if he tried to draw his short sword from his waist, maintaining his shield with one hand would leave him vulnerable. The bicorne, snarling, tried to overpower Fleck, but suddenly the monster facing him relaxed its guard.

A halberd extended from the side, gouging out the bicorne’s foreleg. With the deadlock broken, Fleck drew his short sword and thrust it up into the creature’s jaw.

Saliva and blood sprayed into the void, and the bicorne fell to the ground, convulsing. Fleck slightly lifted his great shield and slammed it down on the creature’s head, delivering the final blow.

In front of him, a new werewolf approached, but it collapsed onto its knees as an arrow, unmistakably Amy’s, pierced its temple.

“Sorry!”

Fleck thanked Amy and the halberd wielder. With his hands now free, he followed the extended weapon to find a Highserk soldier known as Walm.

He had been a formidable enemy even in their skirmishes in the forest, but his skill now was incomparable to then, wielding immense magical power and controlling “Demon Fire.”

Fleck never imagined that he would thank a former enemy twice, including their confrontation at the gates. Life was indeed strange. The knight with demon fire did not respond.

Even now, Walm, with the hooked claw of his extended halberd, snagged the arm of a lizardman to assist his comrade, then used the “Strong Strike” of his halberd to sever a mantis’ scythe-like limb and smash the spear into its head.

The clouded eyes suggested that, like Fleck, he had lost his vision. Yet, he possessed a field of view that betrayed no handicap. Whether it was due to the difference in the number of deadly encounters they had survived, or inherent latent talent was unclear.

Fleck felt ashamed for using the loss of his eye as an excuse. He couldn’t do the same yet. But he would build up his skills, one step at a time, and show that he could catch up. Fleck raised his voice, ready to confront more monsters.

He wouldn’t be short of practice partners as the sea of monsters stretched endlessly before him.