Paul’s heart tightened as the sounds of battle approached from the front.
This time, the soldiers’ performance had improved compared to the last battle. There was no reckless charging, thanks to a company kept in reserve near Paul. Senior officers like Bryce had also charged into the fray. Although Paul was opposed to senior officers leading the charge, it undeniably boosted the soldiers’ morale.
However, the situation gradually turned dire, with Paul’s side showing signs of weakness as the battle slowly shifted towards the center of Lakeheart Town.
Paul became anxious. “Let the reserve company take over,” he suggested.
Schroeder shook his head. “It’s not time yet.”
Just then, a report came in: suspicious figures resembling another group of pirates were spotted near the town’s other bridge.
“Send the reserve company there,” Schroeder decided.
Paul sighed in relief. “Good thing we kept the reserve. It would have been bad if another group of pirates broke into the town.”
The reserve company, now acting, began to rapidly move towards the other side of the town.
Their movement was pivotal; the soldiers engaged in battle thought their lord was abandoning them to retreat, and many started fleeing towards Paul’s position.
“No retreat signal has been sounded, get back to the fight!!!” Bryce and other officers, while fending off enemies, shouted furiously. Some soldiers returned to the battle, but many did not.
Their disadvantage became even more apparent…
That’s when the old knight Schroeder made his move.
He charged on his horse, quickly closing in on a fleeing soldier, drawing his sword in a swift motion.
In a split second, before anyone could comprehend his actions, the deserter’s head was no longer on his shoulders, rolling on the ground and ending up under Paul’s horse.
The body, now headless, collapsed with a thud, blood spurting from the neck, staining the ground red.
The sight of this fierce action stunned both the fleeing soldiers and those with Paul.
The old knight’s eyes were blazing with anger, his neck flushed red and veins bulging, emitting an almost palpable aura of fury.
“This is the fate of a deserter!!!” His voice thundered across the battlefield, striking fear into every heart.
“Provost guards, on my command, deal with any retreaters in the same way, no mercy!!!”
The provost guards were stunned, exchanging looks of disbelief, unsure of how to respond.
“Didn’t you hear my command?” The knight turned to face them. His squire Joyce immediately drew his sword, pointing it at the still dazed provost guards.
The mere glance from the old knight was enough to petrify the provost guards, who quickly remembered their duty upon receiving a superior’s order. “Yes!!!” they shouted in unison, raising their spears towards the retreating deserters.
Disobedience meant they could be the next to be decapitated.
“Fight the pirates to the end!” someone shouted, leading the deserters back to the front line. Better to die fighting the enemy than be executed for desertion. If they were unlucky enough to die in battle, at least their families would receive a substantial pension, as Count Grayman was a man of his word.
Finally, the battle line stabilized. Despite being shocked by the old knight’s methods, Paul breathed a sigh of relief.
The officers shouted commands, rallying their soldiers. The various platoons gradually reformed their ranks. With advantages in numbers, equipment, and organization, the army naturally had the upper hand over the pirates. Now, with everyone resolved to fight to the death, they inflicted significant casualties on the pirates.
The fruits of their previous training were now evident. Under the command of their officers, the soldiers formed spear formations by platoons, advancing slowly but steadily, forcing the pirates back towards the water.
“All cavalry, rally to me!” shouted Schroeder, charging into the battlefield alongside Joyce. After gathering all the knights, they swiftly veered away from the battle, then turned their horses and, with a fierce crack of their whips, charged furiously towards the pirates.
The cavalry’s rapid charge effectively split the pirate ranks in two, trampling and knocking down many unlucky ones in their path. This was the final blow for the already faltering pirates, who began to scatter and flee towards the shore. Some threw down their weapons and surrendered with their hands raised.
“Advance at a run!” commanded Bryce, who was on foot. The soldiers, while maintaining their formation, quickened their pace towards the water’s edge.
Seeing the guards approaching, the pirates hastily pushed their boats away from the shore and jumped into the water to climb aboard.
“An opportunity not to be missed,” Paul thought, seeing nearly half the pirates already off the shore. He immediately ordered the bugler to sound the charge.
“Dee~dee-dee-dee-dee-dee~dee~dee-dee-dee-dee-dee~”
The bugle’s loud call resonated across the battlefield.
“Charge!!!” Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel[f]ire.net
To the retreating pirates, it seemed as if the territorial guards were suddenly invigorated, rushing towards them with unbridled ferocity, breaking formation in their haste.
“Let me on first! I’m first!”
Pleas and curses filled the air over the lake.
The large-bearded pirate leader was nowhere to be seen, leaving the headless pirates without any thought of a counterattack, only pushing and cursing each other in desperation to board the boats.
As the soldiers reached the shore, pirates who had managed to get on their boats began rowing away, distancing themselves from the land.
The pirates still in the water, who hadn’t managed to get aboard, cursed their abandoning comrades, while some swam desperately towards the departing boats.
Some pirates left on the shore resisted briefly but were either killed or surrendered.
At this moment, a troop of soldiers arrived at the shore – the gunners, tasked with striking the final blow.
Six musketeers, already loaded, aimed and fired towards the pirate boats, while others lit bamboo fire tubes and ignited hand grenades.
Despite the muskets’ limited accuracy, their targets were close and densely packed, resulting in a successful volley.
With the muskets’ smoke, four pirates on a boat were hit, two falling into the lake, their fate unknown. One was hit directly in the chest and was immediately lifeless, while another, hit in the arm, screamed in agony.
The pirates, unfamiliar with such weapons, were astounded and fearful. “Witchcraft! Black magic! The nobles are using evil magic!”
Then, more terror rained from the shore as round objects with sizzling fuses flew towards the boats. The pirates, realizing the danger, frantically rowed away.
The first grenade landed accurately over a boat and exploded mid-air, mutilating the pirates nearby and throwing the boat into chaos.
If the muskets hadn’t drawn much attention due to their limited numbers, the grenades caused a major upheaval. Although some fell into the water, those that exploded wreaked havoc, with shrapnel and nails scattering, the lake echoing with explosions and pirates’ screams.
“Die, you sons of bitches!” laughed Makarov, throwing grenades at the pirate boats. Today’s victory washed away the gloom of previous defeats, providing a much-needed vindication.
The pirates, enduring the explosions, rowed desperately, eventually escaping the range of the firearms.
Meanwhile, the reserve team sent to the other side of the town reported back. The other suspected pirates, after observing, decided not to attack upon seeing the well-prepared reserve forces. They vanished after witnessing the defeat of their counterparts, and the reserve was ordered to remain on alert.
After the victory, excitement and cheers filled the battlefield, lifting the long-standing gloom over the army. With the enemy out of sight, the Count ordered a cleanup of the battlefield and announced two orders through the provosts: all spoils must be declared, and prisoners must not be mistreated.
On Schroeder’s advice, two cavalrymen were dispatched in the direction of the pirates’ retreat to scout for any possible counterattacks.
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