Desperate Battle (1)
As expected, Helios was useless. At least as long as the Empire's Magic Corps remained, his breath would just be blocked by magic barriers.
At the same time, I judged the Empire's Magic Corps to be of a rather low level. Marginally better than Arland’s Magic Corps at best.
Not that Arland’s Magic Corps is anything to brag about—muscle-brain syndrome has taken root over there, so the only ones in their corps are those who can fight on the front lines. In large numbers, Arland's corps might even be stronger, since they use tactics like charging in while casting defensive magic. They've pretty much overturned the standard definition of a Magic Corps.
Still, while weak individually, the Empire has numbers. The old Soviet style—I hate it. No matter how many you take down, they keep coming like a tidal wave of flesh. That's the Empire's true strength. No matter how heavy their casualties, the sheer population under the Empire’s control makes replenishment easy.
Though it’s probably not so easy to replace magicians. Which means—if I can wipe out their Magic Corps here, I can weaken or even halt the Empire’s progress in magic development.
“No, Helios. This is how you shoot breath. Alterna: Super Dragon Breath.”
I decided to give Helios a lesson in breath techniques.
A massive amount of mana compressed into a sphere the size of a marble—and I fired it at the Imperial Army.
“Defeeeeend!”
Unlike earlier, the Magic Corps screamed as they hastily deployed their barriers, but the breath pierced right through without resistance and exploded in the middle of the charging front lines.
There was no sound. Just a swelling fireball that swallowed the Imperial soldiers and vanished in an instant.
When it dissipated, there were no survivors. The ground had been vitrified, and only fully charred corpses remained.
“This is how you use breath efficiently. Helios, your compression is lacking.”
“Breath is the signature move of us dragons, you know…”
Helios grumbled, but then launched another breath. This time, it pierced the magic barriers and struck the front lines again. However, it lost much of its power to the barrier and was only about half as strong as mine. To put it simply—my breath formed a fireball dome about 100 meters in diameter. Helios’ was about 50.
Why is my imitation breath stronger than a dragon’s actual one, I wonder.
The front lines descended into complete confusion. Some of the soldiers were turning back and cursing—probably at the Magic Corps. Guess they're not exactly on good terms.
Meanwhile, I had completed all preparations. The Golem Legion had finished deployment.
“Form ranks and crush the enemy.”
“Roger~”
My clone led 300 Soldier Golems per regiment. The heavy assault variants were also moving as unified regiments.
Regiments—an outdated tactic from the time of Iris. Forming lines and marching at the enemy.
Why use such a tactic now?
Simple: I have zero military talent.
So I just organized a manageable number into a regiment.
Hey, they’re all me—cooperation shouldn't be a problem. And if it is? Well, they’re disposable. As long as they buy time, it’s fine.
The Golem Legion advanced in horizontal formations. Now—draw their attention. Buy time.
I glanced back at the grassy plain behind me, where I’d hidden a magic array.
This level of concealment is practically worthless. You can’t see the array with the naked eye, but if you have mana perception, it’s obvious. Do they seriously lack the skill to hide a magic circle’s mana signature from a mage?
I hope this will bait out that Second Knights Order, or whatever they were called—the ones who hurt Father and Brother. I need to kill them all with my own hands.
Because revenge is necessary, after all.
Soon, ranged combat began. My front-line regiments scattered infantry with their AK-lookalike guns.
With high rates of fire and tight formations, their suppressive fire shredded the enemy infantry.
Of course, attack spells flew back, but my clone commanders intercepted them.
The soldiers’ flimsy armor—and even the heavy knights’ plate—was no match for bullets.
In a panic, the Imperial Army pushed forward units with large shields.
But the bullets tore through those shields too—and the heavy knights behind them.
The shields were completely useless. And because they shuffled their front line to bring in the shield bearers, the Imperial formation became disrupted. Originally, the heavy knights were supposed to buy time to fix the formation, but since they were worthless, there was no recovery.
“Hmm… Looks like we don’t need artillery after all. Let’s send in the medic units.”
I hadn't deployed the Golem Legion earlier because I’d been upgrading them.
By modifying the Soldier Golems and Heavy Assault Golems so their parts could be detached and replaced, we made it possible to swap damaged parts mid-battle—dramatically reducing losses.
Until now, if an arm broke, the golem’s combat ability dropped drastically. But now, the Medic Golems carried replacement parts in storage bags and could repair damaged allies on the battlefield.
What’s more, if a golem suffered irreparable damage, it would now charge the enemy lines and self-destruct.
This also served as a means of information security. Even if the core was destroyed, the golem could move for a time using a backup core. That sub-core, however, would only execute simple commands like “retreat” or “self-destruct.”
This battle saw the deployment of:
– 25,000 Soldier Golems
– 10,000 Heavy Assault Golems
– 2,000 Medic Golems
Totaling 37,000 units.
A sufficient fighting force, by any measure.
"Now then, as expected, the cavalry's coming around to flank us... but, you know, this isn’t the kind of cavalry I imagined."
The Granzur Empire isn't a nomadic horse-riding culture. However, they are a nation highly skilled in the use of heavy cavalry. Naturally, they have an enormous number of heavy cavalry units.
I’d asked the knights stationed in the castle a few times about the Empire’s cavalry.
When I once asked, "The Empire supposedly has tons of cavalry, but Arland barely has any, right? How do you deal with them?" the knights replied:
"Just catch them with one hand and kill the rider with the other, or kick the horse during their charge. Problem solved!"
They said it so casually, laughing like it was no big deal, so I assumed the cavalry were riding small ponies or something.
But in reality, they’re riding massive warhorses, not much different from the destriers that went extinct on Earth.
Have our troops really been intercepting these with infantry this whole time...?
Well, knowing them, it’s not entirely unthinkable. And with Arland’s lack of funds, it’s not like we could afford to field our own cavalry.
They’re just really strong infantry. I honestly feel like the knights could run faster than horses if they got serious.
It's not strange, though. People like that are just rare. It's not weird unless everyone can do it. That’s just how the world works.
I mean, if that cavalry charged at me, I’m confident I’d die. So clearly, I’m the weird one.
Even in the royal capital, people often stop rampaging horses with their bare hands.
The one who can’t do it—me—is the problem.
Well, whatever. I can handle cavalry with magic, so I’m not even jealous. I don’t think it’s cool or anything when our citizens stop stampeding horses with body checks.
"Let’s go. Earth Rupture."
I slammed my dragon staff into the ground, and a fissure opened, racing in a straight line toward the heavy cavalry.
The cavalry tried to shift their advance to dodge, but they were too slow. The ground shattered beneath them, tripping the horses and hurling the heavy cavalry down hard.
Heavy cavalry are indeed a pain. They wear thick armor and still retain high mobility. They need to be taken out early.
Their greatest weakness is their weight. Falling from their horses often means death.
"Mass deployment became their downfall."
Mass cavalry charges are indeed effective. But for me, having all those troublesome cavalry units bunched together just makes them easier to wipe out.
But if I don’t take them out all at once, they’ll become a serious threat. After all, my army consists solely of infantry.
Even with those AK-style guns, I can’t underestimate the mobility of cavalry.
As expected, the heavy cavalry suffered catastrophic losses from falling off their horses. Many of the horses, too, fell and either couldn’t get up or wouldn’t.
It’s sad for the horses, but this is war. I can’t afford to help them.
Now that the troublesome cavalry are gone, it’s time to unleash chaos.
"Golems, continue advancing. Mr. Coote, Helios—kill them... kill them all!"
"GUOOOOOOOOOO!!"
As I dismounted, Helios roared and took to the sky. His mission: annihilate the Magic Corps.
Then Mr. Coote let out a howl, and magic circles flared on the ground—summoning a pack of fifty magical wolf beasts, the Wanko Squad.
They’re highly cooperative, and being canine-type, make ideal summons for disruption.
The feline-types were punished and reassigned to guard Mother. Mr. Coote gave them strict retraining—there won’t be a next time.
So Mother should be safe.
Mr. Coote is now launching his attack to disrupt the enemy—essentially acting as substitute cavalry.
Those AK-style guns won’t work on him anyway, so even if he gets caught in the crossfire, it should be fine... probably.
"We’ll head out too."
"Take out the commanders, please."
"Got it."
My clones, who had been waiting inside the Treasury, disappeared under concealment magic.
Their task is to eliminate the front-line commanders.
Left in the main camp are only myself and a handful of golems.
I used Quick Draw to retrieve a book from the Treasury.
Alicetia’s Forbidden Grimoire.
A collection of spells I created that are too dangerous or too ethically unsound. This book also serves as a medium to cast those spells.
"The unit that took down Father and Brother… I probably can’t win… but at the very least, I’ll take you bastards down with me.
Besides, it’s good to have insurance—more cards in hand is always better."
The forbidden tome floated before me. I cut my finger with Gladius and pressed it against a certain page.
The book snapped shut—and transformed into a single dagger.
"I really don’t want to use this. I think this is something we living ones have to deal with ourselves.
But… once more—I ask for your help. For the sake of protecting Arland."
I dropped the dagger to the ground. It sank slowly into the earth, sending out ripples as it disappeared.
How many will respond to the call?
How many will come to help?
I don’t know.
It will take time to activate.
This is just a precaution.
If I fail to buy enough time—then I’ll use it.
With everything in place, I crossed my arms and waited for the enemy to arrive.
What do you think about this chapter?
