Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 80

Walm had expected a chaotic scene akin to a children’s play, but the advancing formation was a beautifully straight line. Drums sounded in time with the marching pace, and the troops continued to advance with their shields readied in front.

“Is that the Meizenaf army?”

Even the common soldiers wore good quality armor. They resembled a flock of sheep that had somehow acquired thick hides and sharp horns. The shepherds leading them were numerous and seemed experienced in their handling.

Even Walm, usually prone to light-hearted remarks, had stopped his banter. The distance was closing in at 250 meters. Archers began to nock their arrows, and the two young soldiers near Walm started loading stones into their slings.

“Remember, they’re spread out wide. Just aim for the front, and you’ll hit someone.”

The two nodded silently. Walm, employed as a magic user, hadn’t been given a sling. He had his own in his magic bag, but since he wasn’t skilled in throwing, he didn’t show off unnecessarily.

“Begin throwing!”

At the order of the 100-man commander, pebbles launched from the slings soared high into the sky, drawing parabolas before plummeting down towards the approaching troops. Naturally, some missed their mark, or mistimed their release, sending stones rolling on the ground or smashing right in front of them.

Properly launched stones struck the enemy’s armor and shields, sending sounds echoing back to the supporting castle. Some were hit in vulnerable spots and collapsed on the spot.

The young soldiers, after several attempts, managed to hurl their stones into the enemy ranks. The mix of accomplishment and the guilt of possibly injuring someone gave them indescribably complex expressions.

“Well done, that was great,” praised Walm. A bit of brightness returned to their clouded faces.

He was manipulating pure-hearted boys, reducing their guilt with just words, trying to adapt them to the battlefield. Walm felt nauseous at his own flippant actions, but he couldn’t drop his plastered smile. By the time the distance was under 250 meters, the archers began releasing their fully drawn bows. The whistling arrows caused the enemy’s advance to slow, and screams reached the supporting castle.

As the distance closed to 60 meters, the magic users began their attack. Their range varied with their magic. Earth bullets knocked shield bearers and bamboo bundle carriers off their feet, and ice spears pierced through the bundles.

At 50 meters, Walm extended his arm and started concentrating his magical power. Azure flames swirled, forming into a fireball.

“Fireball incomiiiing!”

A pained shout came from a soldier carrying a shield. It was dangerous to relay information and warn others on the front lines. Walm targeted the source of the voice with his fireball. The direct hit scattered wood and flesh, and the remaining fire clung to the nearby soldiers.

“AAHHH?! My hand! MY HAND!!!”

“Stop the bleeding and fall back!”

The devastation was widespread among those holding the half-destroyed shields. No cheers followed, only an eerie silence pervaded as the boys were starkly reminded of the reality of what Walm had done.

“Don’t stop,” he said emotionlessly. They would see plenty more of such scenes if they stayed by Walm’s side. There were no comforting words to offer.

He focused on his next target. An enemy soldier, trying to deflect attacks by tilting their bamboo bundle, had left a gap at the bottom. Walm fired a fireball at the gap. The exploding fireball also caused dirt to rain down and created a depression in the ground.

The damage was severe for those holding the bundle and soldiers behind them. Some lost their legs below the knee, writhing and screaming, while others suffered minor injuries like lost fingers or burns.

It was inevitable that attacks would concentrate on Walm, the source of such destruction. A variety of thrown objects hit the castle walls, and the constant sound of arrows whistled overhead. A soldier carelessly exposing himself took an arrow to the forehead and collapsed without a sound. Any inconvenient corpses were quickly dragged down from the walls.

The corners of the fortress were jutting outward, designed to attack soldiers attempting to cling to the walls from the sides. These were a type of defense tower, and while the corner towers were low, they were essential for defense. Exceptionally within the supporting castle, the foundations were made of stone, enhancing the defensive capability a level higher.

Otherwise, the incessant attacks would have probably half-destroyed them by now. Walm assigned levels of danger to the enemy’s assaults and crushed them in order, starting from the top. First were the magic soldiers, second the commanders and officers, and third, the archers. The stopping power was visibly effective, with the once-straight lines of troops now undulating, and the enemy soldiers within effective range from the corners visibly lagging behind.

Arrows and stones mercilessly rained down on soldiers who lost their means of defense due to the explosions. An enemy soldier, an arrowhead embedded in his shoulder, raised a voice of agony, only to be silenced by a following barrage of stones. The two young soldiers were relentlessly hurling pebbles as if possessed.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Walm called out to a soldier attempting to leave his post. He wouldn’t have stopped an ordinary soldier, but this one was a valuable magic soldier like himself. The thought of the reduced burden was enough to warrant his concern.

“I’ve been ordered by the 100-man commander to assist the other walls. You’re here, so it should be fine.”

With that, the magic soldier hurried off. Magic soldiers who used the efficient earth bullets were valuable for their ability to stop enemy invasions. Walm, having lost a capable colleague, felt momentarily dazed, yet the enemy continued their fierce attack, attempting to breach the empty moat.

The enemies, cutting through the counter-barriers and breaking the stakes, were closing in as fireballs approached. The moat, now a depression, limited their escape from the explosion. Soldiers who had descended to the bottom met with a horrific end. Blown apart by the blast that burned rapidly with shockwaves, their limbs and torsos were torn off, raining down on the surrounding soldiers.

The heat rose up to the castle’s ramparts. The smell of seared flesh, organs exposed to the open air mingled with undigested food, created a foul stench. There were always a number of soldiers who would stuff their provisions and liquor for a pre-battle feast to lift their spirits.

Before heading into mortal danger, they might want to have their last meal in this world, after all. Some might be tempted by these, and as a human, one might empathize, but as a soldier, it was abysmal.

Even if one’s organs were damaged, recovery magic could enable a quick return to the front lines. However, if undigested food spilled from the organs, the contamination would spread internally, making simple recovery magic insufficient. In such cases, water attribute magic or specialized surgery was required.

“Different time and place, but well… the battlefield remains unchanged.”

It was a grimly nostalgic sensation. The horrific deaths, the acrid smell assaulting his nose, the resonating sounds of the battlefield, all stirred Walm’s past memories.

Kuwen and Karim were pale, but they did not slow their efforts. Their adaptability was impressive. Grown soldiers, who were only strong in spirit, panicked like children at the sight of innards sticking to their armor, vomiting disgracefully.

The enemy, however, did not give up even after dozens of their men were incinerated and blown away. They began filling the empty moat with dirt, attempting to cling to the base of the walls.

“Jump into the fray!! There are gold coins for the one who strikes first!!”

The regular soldiers reorganized the disrupted lines, pushing the hesitant footmen forward by kicking them. Walm greeted them with fire. Soldiers, turned into flaming torches by the blue flames, fell backward down the slopes. Others were ripped apart by the blast, leaving only their hands clinging to the stakes.

“Charge, kill that bastard!!”

Raw emotions were hurled at him. Walm accepted them. The common soldiers below were now engrossed in every move of Walm, who was but a mere guard, yet he was being overvalued.

Magic fired from the corner towers kept them cautious, and the damage from the stones and arrows from the front was extreme. The attacks were carried out on three sides of the rampart, with about half of two of these sides falling under Walm’s range of attack. The remaining areas also relied on Walm’s stopping power, and the magic soldiers who had been pulled away were now repurposed and reinforced.

Even soldiers who somehow climbed up were struck down by spears from the wall, hitting their heads and rolling back down. Walm pitied the enemy’s common soldiers. Sometimes brute force could be a powerful tactic. Perhaps the enemy commanders had intended to test the waters, but still, too many soldiers had died.

The rhythmic sounds of the battlefield echoed, and the shouts of the regular soldiers rose everywhere.

“It’s the retreat drum. Retreat!!”

“Don’t let go of your weapons! If you do, you’ll not escape reprimand!!”

At the sound of the drums signaling retreat, the enemy soldiers hastily fled. Naturally, no one waved them goodbye, but a large number of parting gifts were sent their way, mostly stones and arrows.

“The enemy has fled with their tails between their legs!!”

That day, for the first time, the Dalimarcus troops’ cheers resounded through the supporting castle.

◆

“What is this disgrace?!”

Viscount Barnes Guvier was dominated by anger and impatience. It was a siege. Civilian casualties were a given, and Barnes had been prepared for it.

“It was just one magic soldier!”

They had received the standard welcome of arrows and stones and, despite some damage, had approached the wall. Supported by magic soldiers and archers, all that remained was for the infantry to break through in one go. But before they could even reach the wall, they lost 200 of their soldiers and suffered many injuries.

All of this was due to the firepower of a powerful magic soldier stationed in the corner tower. The incessant fireballs emitted destroyed shields and bamboo bundles, killing and injuring soldiers. The exposed soldiers, before even finishing their climb up the slope, were hit by all kinds of projectiles.

Barnes was not just watching silently. He had sent magic soldiers and archers to silence the troublesome fire source, but the result was a painful counterattack, further depleting his forces.

It was a troop type that was difficult to replace and took time to train, making a significant impact on Barnes’s influence in the future. It was a too costly failure for the first battle that determined the momentum of the war, and Barnes, who had been entrusted with the soldiers and their command, bore a heavy responsibility. It wasn’t just the enemy that infuriated Barnes, desperate to redeem his tarnished name.

“It was bad luck. The fallen soldiers…”

“Well, it can’t be helped. That magic soldier was quite powerful.”

Now the frontline command post was filled with others beside Barnes’s close retainers and aides. As Barnes attempted to press on, he was stopped, and the troops sent to aid in the tough battle were from the Meizenaf family’s retainers and a mercenary group hired by the count.

Barnes could have tolerated it if it were the Count Odilon’s retainers or auxiliary troops. But he couldn’t stand the lowly mercenaries entering his command tent as if they owned the place. Moreover, the count’s retainers and the mercenary group operated independently, outside Barnes’s command.

It was as if to say Barnes wasn’t worthy of trust. His hands trembled with anger, but there was nothing he could do to refuse them.

However, the mercenaries were capable when it came to fighting. The group, though less than a hundred strong, consisted only of those with “Magic” and “Skills.” Some had even ventured into the deep layers of the Labyrinth City, a mercenary group with dark rumors and a notorious reputation.

“However, to see Viscount suffer so badly is unbelievable.”

Giusto, the leader of the hired soldiers, seemed to mock Barnes’s mishap with his statement. His pretentious attitude, along with his words, angered Barnes.

“You, a mere mercenary, don’t you dare speak so insolently. Arrows, stones, and magic have limits. Once they run out, their death day is decided.”

The loss of 200 soldiers was immeasurable, but not all the soldiers had died in vain. Many sections of the empty moat were starting to fill with soil and bodies, and obstacles were being removed. Additionally, places where the walls had been seriously damaged had already been reported to Barnes.

“Oh, not at all. No one would dare underestimate Lord Viscount, who lured out that powerful fire source and struck the defensive network. If it weren’t for that, we would have already taken down the walls by now.”

“Hmph, flattering me now? How insincere.”

Now was not the time for Barnes to waste on trivial conversations with lowly mercenaries. The shields and bamboo bundles had been repaired, and the injured, except those severely wounded, were returning to the battle line thanks to healing magic.

“…Well, it doesn’t matter. As soon as the treatment of the injured and the repair of the shields are completed, we will launch another offensive.”

Barnes shifted his thoughts toward the next assault. Unbeknownst to him, Giusto smirked behind his back.

“Heh, hehe, Viscount is admirable in a way. Exceptionally competent yet failing to earn any credit. He’s paving the way for us to advance. Oh, how kind of him.”

Giusto’s words, lost in the bustle of preparing for the next attack, never reached the Viscount.

Translator – Lyxxna