Chapter 150

Chapter 150 - A Monster Among Hungry Wolves (7)

Though a noble turned into a corpse and flew away, it was an incredibly chaotic melee situation. Almost no one noticed it.

"My Lord?"

The subordinates following the noble were only bewildered. Because their master leading from the front disappeared leaving only his horse behind.

What the subordinates looking around discovered was a knight mounted on a massive warhorse.

Eugene, who joined to help the central army, smiled bitterly at the gazes gathering on him as soon as he arrived.

"It's the Lord! Attack! I shall reward the one who catches him!"

Starting with a certain Sicilyn knight, a group of cavalry charged toward Eugene. Taking note of his equipment and presence being extraordinary at a glance.

"Being large is good for scanning the battlefield or issuing commands to the rear line, but this is a nuisance. You stand out too much to the enemies as well."

Hearing his master's complaint, Might lightly kicked the ground with his front hoof.

Crumb.

A stone the size of a fist shattered with a single light stomp.

"Yeah man. Sorry, I'm sorry. Complaining about yielding 1 after gaining 9 would mean lacking a conscience."

Eugene, who apologized, gripped his flail in his right hand. The heartwarming atmosphere from just until now vanished, and a freezing murderous intent rippled out.

"That weapon?"

"Warhorse? Monster? What is he riding?"

The cavalry following the knight could finally properly see Eugene only after passing the battlefield's dust. And they felt something had gone firmly wrong.

Because an incredibly dense aura of death emanated from both the warhorse and the knight.

"Take the spear of Sicily..."

Before the leading knight could thrust his spear, a black lightning bolt descended from the sky.

Clang!

The cavalry saw a human's head getting compressed for the first time today.

The bundle of black maces crumpled the upper part of the helmet and crushed the head inside it as well.

However, both sides of the helmet remained intact. A bizarre corpse with only the center of its head caved in like a volcanic crater was produced.

"S-Sir Knight?"

The cavalry blanked out behind the knight who went quiet. Eugene casually swung his flail horizontally.

Someone trying to block it had his left hand shattered along with his shield. He couldn't scream despite the terrible pain. Because the mace bundle bouncing off from the recoil of the impact smashed his jawbone.

Every time Eugene swung his flail, shields shattered and screams soared. The bouncing mace bundle randomly struck faces, shoulders, flanks, horse heads, and the like.

As the tribal knights attached to Eugene's left and right wings thrust their spears, the enemies were one-sidedly butchered.

"Halt! Charging all the way to the center at once is dangerous. We dig in bit by bit."

Eugene at the vanguard tore the surface and created cracks in every group they encountered.

"Vengeance for my older brother! I will definitely kill you... Keheugh!"

A knight who managed to approach amidst the swept-away enemies grabbed the arrow piercing his neck and fell off his horse.

It was the handiwork of Homi, the only one guarding closely by Eugene's side. Having fired the arrow hanging from Sandy's flank, she sprang her body up using thigh strength and mounted the saddle.

'Incredible. Horsemanship even nomads couldn't follow.'

Rex clicked his tongue watching that sight from behind.

By nature, a large flail requires a wide space. Because allies could easily be swept up if not careful.

However, Homi could guard Eugene immediately by his side. Thanks to her perfect sense of balance and tail, her posture wasn't constrained whether riding or shooting.

Vwooooosh!

Homi repeatedly pulled her bowstring hearing the sound of air tearing above her head. Crossbowmen aiming for Eugene collapsed with arrows lodged in their vitals.

"Beautiful."

A tribal warrior muttered inadvertently.

A male and female pair perfectly complementing long-range and close-range combat. The sight of two childhood friends sweeping the battlefield looked as if they were dancing a waltz.

"Smash all their heads!"

The heavy cavalry wielding horseman's flails smashed through the cracks Eugene created.

Even if not up to a knight's level, they displayed fierce majesty through outstanding equipment, abundant experience, and diligent training uncharacteristic of mercenaries.

"Take the fist of Meyer!"

They called the specially produced horseman's flails requested from the Hammer Brotherhood the 'Fist of Meyer'.

Human mercenaries are not special like Dwarves or Dark Elves. However, they possess pride in fighting together holding melee weapons beside Eugene.

Therefore, the horseman's flails held a special meaning. Because it was a symbol of solidarity, wielding a weapon of the same lineage as their Lord.

"It makes me cringe every time I hear it, how about attaching a different name?"

Eugene simply wanted to stop them out of embarrassment. However, a countermeasure for times like this was prepared.

"Valda liked it immensely."

"Saying that we possess the proper attitude to serve our monarch. She praised us to spread the name of Meyer widely on battlefields going forward as well."

"...Look at these guys?"

With nonchalant faces, the subordinates cheaply used Valda as a shield.

"Another group is coming over there."

From the flank, a new group of enemy knights charged.

Immediately, arrows from horse archers flew, and the heavy cavalry threw their throwing small spears, Plumbata.

"Kuagh!"

"Urgh!"

Over half of the knights and squires shredded before even clashing pulled their horse reins with flustered faces.

"Idiots! What do we do if you stop here?!"

The knights who kept running shouted, dumbfounded when only they became a protruding formation.

Against them, Eugene plunged in swinging his flail, and they were smashed to pieces just like that.

* * *

After hitting and retreating multiple times, gnawing inwards from the left wing for a good while. The enemies in the area were blown to smithereens and started fleeing in defeat.

"Retreat! Retreat!"

"Fleeing before the enemy, have you lost your minds? You will hang on the gallows!"

"Retard! The bastards to order putting us on the gallows are all dead sprawling over there! If you're annoyed, you block them!"

Resounding screams filled with pain and retreat orders drenched in terror echoed from all directions.

"Stop here! The enemy's annihilation is not our goal!"

Eugene raised his flail high and ordered a halt to the pursuit, but several subordinates did not return.

It wasn't insubordination; the heat rose to their heads from the battlefield's noise and excitement, so they couldn't hear properly.

At that, Might raised his front hooves. An aura of mystery gathered at those horse hooves.

Bang!

As the hooves struck the ground, a shockwave distinctly felt even amidst the battlefield spread completely along with a roar.

Everyone in the area trembled for a moment and felt chills much like right after urinating. A mana wave shook their souls.

"Ack?!"

"L, let's go back! Only we went out too far!"

The effect was certain, and subordinates who were about to protrude out hurriedly returned.

"I told you to always examine your surroundings even when fighting. You get a dog's death if you go out alone and get surrounded."

"We apologize. My Lord."

After patting the shoulders of the regrouping subordinates, Eugene sighed.

'I can't let go of my mind for even a moment. I think this is more tiring than monster subjugation.'

The Battle of Codon Castle, subjugating pirates at the Rasta Monastery, leading up to the pitched battle now. Large-scale battles between humans always required keeping one's nerves on edge.

Of course, monsters are worse in terms of danger and ferocity. However, battles against those guys are pure simplicity. Any humans around are all allies, and you only need to squash the monsters.

But when humans fight humans?

Whether we are winning or losing.

If disadvantaged, where to support.

Where disappeared subordinates who were beside you are.

It was too difficult to distinguish during combat.

Fortunately, Eugene possesses one secret weapon for times like this.

"Homi."

At Eugene's call, Homi beside him leaped from Sandy. Stepping on Might's rump, she climbed up onto Eugene's shoulders.

"...Keugh!"

A Sicilyn mercenary fighting frantically lost his life in vain.

Because he got stabbed while distracted by a single flower blooming in the middle of a battlefield.

Glare!

Homi's eyes scanned the battlefield. Pupils wrapped in the soul of a Bald Eagle like a lens repeatedly grew larger and smaller.

"You can step on my head. A handspan higher is better, isn't it?"

"If I take off my shoes later!"

Today's single phrase was a polite decline, no, prolongation.

Homi, finding something, hopped down and landed upon Sandy's back. Then she accurately pointed at a specific location with military hand signals.

"The enemy's main force is over there! We skewer their flank!"

At Eugene's command, everyone shouted and firmed their fighting spirit.

"Wheeeeeeet-!"

At Homi's magic-infused whistle, warhorses following from behind lined up alongside the riders.

"Amazing whenever I see it."

"How on earth do they control horses like that?"

Tribal warriors also lead countless horses when moving pastures. However, that was merely utilizing the habit of following high-ranking horses moving in one direction.

A technique making horses follow without confusion in a chaotic battlefield like this was utterly unheard of.

"Odd-numbered squads transfer horses! Even-numbered squads strictly guard the perimeter!"

Tribal knights and heavy cavalry took turns transferring horses.

Horses exhausted from multiple charges fell to the back, and a fresh cavalry unit was prepared once again.

"Gather spears!"

The tribal knights and heavy cavalry gripped Plumbatas in their hands.

It is a standard weapon for close combat cavalry newly adopted by Eugene. Shorter than a javelin so it's good for storing in horse saddles, and possessing fletchings so its accuracy was decent as well.

"Let's go! Follow me!"

Eugene's royal guard, having ground away the Sicilyn forces threatening the center's left side, burst forward charging toward the core.

* * *

"The flag of the Temple Knights is over there! Charge as if your lives depend on it!"

The Count of Sicily encouraged knights and vassals with bloodshot eyes.

It is a world believing trial by combat is God's judgment. Winning this war and bringing that flag would make it perfect.

What if the Count waved the seized Temple Knights' flag and shouted 'This is proof God acknowledged my right as a noble!'?

The Apostle State's prestige and justification would be severely shaken unavoidably.

It is an era dominated by emotion over intellect, and symbolism over emotion. If someone with status like the Count achieved a massive victory and put forth a highly symbolic flag, his claim would carry heavy weight.

"Exert just a little more strength! I will reward 10 silver coins per downed enemy! 2 gold coins a head for Holy Knights!"

The Count of Sicily threw money around without considering the aftermath to encourage his forces. That actually took effect.

Because nobles ran in practically offering up their lives for the glory of victory and the Count's favor, and soldiers and mercenaries for a sudden fortune.

Then Eugene's reinforcements arrived.

"The Count of Sicily is over there!"

A situation where enemies who intruded into a favorably led battle conversely aimed for their master.

"Peninsula servants!"

"I will show you the power of Sicily!"

The Count's knights rejoiced that prey increased in an advantageous battle situation and ferociously charged.

And every time a black storm swirled from the tips of Eugene's hands, their bodies burst and shattered somewhere, unhorsing them.

"I am Knight Ashurram of Sicily! Reveal your name!"

"Eugene Meyer."

Ashurram had raised the army's morale roaring while holding up the severed head after cutting down the Vice Commander of the Temple Knights.

He lost his weapon in the first exchange in a duel against Eugene, and his cheek was struck hard on the second.

"Sir Ashurram!"

The squire screamed seeing the seemingly invincible Ashurram's head rotating two and a half turns.

His master's eyes, always sternly teaching him, stared at him with an empty focus before smoothly tilting sideways.

"You monster-like bastard! Mikkel of Roman shall face you!"

Mikkel drove his horse swinging an axe.

He was someone who led bandits and routinely pillaged and raped women near a monastery.

- Put down your weapon and repent before the name of God. Then you may save your life.

- Alright! This senior here will send you to the side of the gods you bastards love so much.

Mikkel massacred the armed monks who came to capture him instead. And after invading that monastery, committing slaughter and plunder, he even set it on fire.

Driven out by the previous King of Roman due to those atrocities, he became a wanted man and fled all the way to Sicily.

Since his skills were incredible, he participated in the war under the condition of the Count's pardon, and he was the one who spilled the most Holy Knight's blood on the ground today.

"Repulsive servants of God!"

Mikkel rushing in spewing curses couldn't swing his axe at Eugene even once.

Because the mace bundle smashed his horse's head. As the horse plunged down, Mikkel was launched toward Eugene from the recoil of his run.

Chomp.

Might's mouth gaped open like a crocodile. As if demonstrating he would not stand idly by while a dirty lump of meat flew at his master.

"Heeeeup!"

Flying through the air, Mikkel screamed seeing Might's mouth rapidly filling his vision. Dozens of sharp thumb-sized teeth welcomed and bit him.

Crunch.

Crack.

"Keuaaagh!"

Might, violently chewing Mikkel a few times, went 'Ptooy!' and spat him out, then immediately raised his front hooves.

Whack!

He trampled and crushed the groaning Mikkel's chest and face.

"Shoot! I said shoot!"

At that sight, crossbowmen trembled violently and shot bolts.

However, they all bounced off Eugene's armor, shield, and the horse armor wrapping Might.

Even bolts flying at unarmored parts were blocked by Might's steel-like skin and muscles.

At that despairing sight, some crossbowmen even dropped their crossbows. Others couldn't load their bolts properly due to trembling fingers.

The remaining knights nearby were also being slaughtered one-sidedly, so there wasn't a single person remaining on horseback anymore.

"Monster!"

"O God! Please..."

"A Death Knight! A Death Knight has appeared!"

Reactions pouring out at Eugene ranged from standard responses like calling him a monster or seeking God, to creative responses treating him as an undead monster.

However, it didn't end with merely shouting out of fear.

"What nonsensical drivel are you spouting? A Death Knight?"

The Count of Sicily found dumbfounding the report that an evil existence only seen once in 100 years had appeared.

However, the sight of the terrified, trembling messenger didn't seem like he just heard bullshit and was simply relaying it verbatim.

'It seems they did see something terrible.'

While the Count of Sicily debated whether or not to send reinforcements, Eugene finally arrived.

Pushing through like a breaking bamboo joint from the left wing, he reached the fiercely contested ground of the central armies of both sides. And even his entrance was extraordinary.

Might clearly proved why he is called a World Charger.

Dududududu!

He directly crashed into the flanks of the Sicilyn knights, who were exposing their sides while attacking the Holy Knights.

Bang!

Craaash!

Warhorses struck in their flanks flew away letting out mournful shrieks, and knights riding atop were flung in all directions.

"W-what on..."

The Count's jaw dropped.

Due to the sudden situation, the Sicilyn knights were also entirely dumbfounded to cope properly.

Pierced straight through their flanks amidst fighting the Holy Knights, their allies hindered them from counterattacking properly.

And Eugene utilized that extremely well.

With his shield fastened to his arm and holding the flail with both hands, he spun 360 degrees wildly battering everywhere.

The skulls of knights everywhere cracked as they tumbled backward, and horses losing their masters ran amok.

"My Lord! We've advanced too far!"

"Please show restraint! Our hearts are palpitating endlessly!"

The joined tribal knights and heavy cavalry charged fiercely holding their weapons after throwing their Plumbatas.

As the Sicilyn central army's formation began disintegrating from a mere single charge, the Count felt as if his soul would flee.

"Filthy Apostle State bastards! What did you supposed servants of God summon?!"

"Wh, what are you saying? We are clean!"

When the Sicilyn knights fighting a bloody battle shouted feeling wronged, the holy warriors also retorted feeling equally wronged.

"Shoot!"

Regardless, Eugene ordered the horse archers in the rear to fire.

Having crushed every enemy in the path bit by bit while breaking through here. Thanks to that, even in the middle of a battlefield, they could leisurely pull their bowstrings without shields.

"Your Excellency the Count! It is dangerous!"

As arrow attacks flew near the Count of Sicily, vassals threw their bodies blocking them.

"Damn it! We retreat! Blow the retreat horn!"

The Count, who bore the most aggrieved face on this battlefield, turned his horse's head and fled.

* * *

"Sir Knight! Shall we strike all the way to the enemy right wing at this rate?"

Rex asked filled with excitement.

An assault force drilling a horizontal tunnel through the enemy army from the left wing to the center and then the right wing. Something like this has never been heard of in all ages and countries.

Even Rex, a pragmatist without a desire for honor, greedily coveted that heroic saga just for now.

"Calm down. Glory doesn't feed us, does it? We don't have spare horses to transfer to anymore either."

"Sir Knight. Are you truly a Knight? That's definitely not something a Knight would say."

Rex let out a hollow laugh relaxing the tension in his muscles. Because Eugene's words weren't wrong.

"The battle has already been decided. The left wing was no match from the start, and their center is disintegrated with their boss retreating. Isn't that right, Homi?"

Homi, standing on Eugene's shoulders, wagged her toes up and down signaling affirmation.

"There's a saying even if a rich man goes bankrupt it lasts 3 generations. Even losing a battle, Immortals are Immortals. If we butt in, we will bleed too."

"Since the war situation tilted we will win anyway even leaving it be, but won't the right wing take heavy casualties?"

"Is that my business? It's enough as long as I take care of my own family."

"I have fallen for you once again, Sir Knight."

Rex smiled driving his horse closer to Eugene. Acting seemingly like he was trying to give a hug.

"It gives me goosebumps so please don't."

Swish.

Homi, standing on one leg like a crane atop Eugene's shoulder, stretched out her long leg blocking Rex's approach.

"Oh dear. If I go closer I would get kicked."

Homi scanning the battlefield blew a whistle and sent a hand signal. It was news that the Immortals were plummeting.

"Did they realize they were isolated alone on the battlefield?"

"Even if they are strong, they are infantry after all. Shouldn't they calculate when to retreat even more sharply?"

The Immortals displayed an incredible majesty in the melee with their superior armor and greatsword techniques. However, since they run on their feet, the limits of their mobility are massive. When abandoned like now running away showing their backs, they were more vulnerable than any knight order.

"Call in all the horse archers waiting on the left wing too!"

At Eugene's order, the tribal warriors blew their horn bugles in unison. Simultaneously preparing the final attack.

Eugene also put away his flail and pulled out his bow. Because what they would do from now on wasn't a battle but a hunt.

* * *

"The blessings of the gods will be with you, Sir!"

The Grand Master of the Temple Knights, Cain, welcomed Eugene with open arms.

"There must be give and take. I'm not sure if I performed enough to receive three great cities."

"If you hadn't joined us, Sir, the holy war would have failed from the start. You brought us from losing everything to gaining, so what could be a waste?"

Cain, distinctly bearing traces of a bitter struggle, was so deeply moved he even made somewhat dangerous statements.

But it wasn't exactly wrong either. The troops and strategy prepared by the Count of Sicily were much sturdier than expected.

'What if it went according to the original plan? What if we invaded with a military force of around 5,000 gathering many mercenary corps?'

Cain shook his head. Because without any particular anomalies, they would have definitely been defeated.

The two commanders strolled through a battlefield filled with countless prisoners and corpses.

"The right wing was damaged way too severely."

"Immortals are Immortals. Even being a knight order not riding horses, there is a reason they are that famous."

The Immortal Infantry Knight Order does not train horsemanship, digging strictly into physical conditioning and greatsword techniques like their lives depend on it.

Since equestrian training must be done from a young age, accessibility is poor outside of nobles. However, since Immortals didn't require that, recruiting new members was easy.

Because expenses going into horses are concentrated on infantry, it's also possible to provide excellent armor and operate a large number. Consequently, they possessed overwhelmingly more members than other knight orders.

The right wing where 300 Immortals ran rampant was truly pandemonium.

Arms and legs severed by greatswords rolled around everywhere.

Some were scooping their spilled intestines after their abdomens were sliced in half, or had their upper and lower bodies cleanly completely chopped up.

"Uwuugh..."

"Save.. save me."

"Please bite on this. Brother. You will definitely live."

For those with prospects of surviving, military priests clung to them and treated them.

"Brave warrior who fulfilled your duty. May you return to the gods' embrace in peace..."

"Uurgh!"

For heavily wounded with no chance of surviving, Holy Knights delivered the sword of mercy after asking for their consent.

"Why do Immortals entirely use greatswords?"

Eugene saw corpses of Immortals scattered everywhere. No one held a shield or a one-handed sword.

"Since they are comprised entirely of infantry, they need a means to counter cavalry."

Cain stared at the Immortals as if utterly sick of them. Since they were a traditional rival knight order having fought countless times starting from their seniors in the past.

"Do you see this handle here, Sir?"

The Immortals' greatswords had a double handle composition similar to a Zweihänder.

"Does it mean they grab both handles and thrust it like a spear when fighting cavalry?"

"Exactly. The East Empire's full-body lamellar armor is famous for being sturdy, so it easily stops something like a conscript's weapon."

When Cain showed a demonstration motion, it definitely looked threatening to cavalry as well.

If hundreds of extremely trained Immortals did that, any decent cavalry wouldn't dare charge in.

Even if the leading Immortals die from the initial impact, it's vividly visible a meat party will begin the moment the cavalry's charging momentum disappears.

Unlike spearmen comprised of conscripts or mercenaries, it is a tactic uniquely possible because Immortals endure the terror given by a cavalry charge.

"Please accept this flag."

Cain offered the flag of the Immortal Knight Order to Eugene.

A flag is the crystallization of honor for the faction it belongs to. Specifically because what was captured in this battle bore the Caliph's golden thread seal, making the meaning even greater.

"The decorations to show off to the Moving Castle's guests have increased further."

As Eugene roughly waved the Immortal's flag back and forth in his hands, Rex rejoiced as well. Being someone who became quite serious about decorating the Moving Castle's lobby on par with Valda.

"It's a good thing since we couldn't go peeling off Immortal skins anyway."

"..."

"Sir Cain. It is a nomad-style joke."

To Cain possessing an appalled face, Eugene forcibly managed a cover-up.

"Let's let the troops rest today and discuss subsequent actions tomorrow."

Though they missed the Count of Sicily, the main force was in a decimated state. Technically, the war was practically 80% over.

"Ah, if we are lucky, it seems we might be able to catch the Count on that point."

"Pardon?"

At Eugene's words, Cain asked back with a dumbfounded face.

"They say that if a person's luck is bad once, things continually get tangled; it's exactly that situation. Among several escape routes, the place the Count chose just had to be..."

Eugene's subordinates are giggling viewing the direction the Count with only a handful left fled.

That place was the direction the Moving Castle descended.

Stationed within the castle are guards serving as reserves and hundreds of warhorses.

Dwarves invited as artisans or tribal keepers managing warhorses were also past warriors. Those ready to return to active duty whenever needed at any time.