Kirhas’s charge was nothing short of the maximum capability a field commander could demonstrate. It was a charge that occurred at the precise moment when the enemy formation’s density reached its lowest point, and all enemies were not paying attention to their rear—until the allied formation was annihilated, that is, before the battle turned into a massacre.
Kirhas had executed all these calculations in the realm of instinct and succeeded, indicating that her tactical judgment was nearing perfection. There was only one thing she hadn’t anticipated: the allied cavalry’s retreat was slower than she had expected.
This was entirely due to a lack of experience. Until now, Kirhas had led the elite cavalry of the Great Wilderness. However, the cavalry among the northerners was merely ‘warriors on horses.’
The difference between infantry and cavalry is not just in the height and speed of the horses. Cavalry’s capability encompasses the synergy between rider and horse, the sensation at the point of maximum impact, and the instinctive communication during turns and retreats. Simply adding a horse and rider does not mean their combat power is merely additive.
There is no doubt that the northerners are individually powerful warriors. However, they were not trained as cavalry. This is where Kirhas’s misjudgment began. She thought she was leading a cavalry unit. Had she considered them merely as fast-moving warriors, she could have deployed the troops in a completely different manner.
“Huh…”
Kirhas swiftly decapitated an approaching enemy and quickly stepped back, scanning her surroundings. Enemies, enemies, enemies. Nothing but enemies. She wasn’t particularly tall, and the northerners were at least a head taller than the average infantry of southern civilized nations. Thus, she felt as if she were surrounded by a hostile wall.
But even in that moment, her eyes sought a way out. Amidst the screams and shouts of allies and the loud clashing of weapons, her ears perked up.
Somehow, she felt that if she just stayed still, she might survive. Her instincts were screaming, ‘Hold on.’
“Enough of this nonsense, you heretics and apostates!!!”
-Whoosh!
Brother? Kirhas, half-dazed, turned her head toward the direction of the roar. It was Brother Fabiano’s voice. Soon, the sound of a cannonball flying and a massive impact sweeping the ground followed.
-Boom!
The sound and vibration of a solid projectile flipping the ground echoed. In the distance, the head of a demon, which had briefly appeared above the warriors, vanished in that instant. A spray of blood shot into the sky, followed by the sound of the demon’s heavy body collapsing to the ground.
“Brother…??”
How did he get here? The warriors surrounding Kirhas began to look around in confusion.
It was a chaotic battle where friend and foe were indistinguishable. Zephis was pondering the situation while observing the battlefield. When Kirhas charged into the enemy lines along the ridge, he could at least determine that the side with demons and mages was the enemy. However, in the midst of the chaos, identifying allies and enemies was impossible.
They seemed to have some kind of decoration on their shields, cloaks, and clothes to distinguish themselves, but Zephis and the Inquisition Officers had no way of recognizing the northerners’ insignia.
Therefore, they decided to focus on the demons rather than the frontline. Their strategy was very simple: 1. Demons are enemies. 2. Those who fight demons are allies. 3. Anyone who attacks us while we’re fighting demons is an enemy.
It was a highly reasonable tactic. As Zephis nodded and lowered his helmet’s visor, Fabiano drew the spear blade tied to his back and stepped forward.
“Enough of this nonsense, you heretics and apostates!!!”
-Whoosh!
The deltoid muscles, as large as a human head, visibly twitched beneath his armor. Soon, the javelin in his hand shot forward with a piercing sound. The noise was akin to a siege ballista firing, followed by an impact. The demon’s head shattered, and a spray of blood erupted.
“Let’s go, Brother!”
“Brother Sergio, carry Brother Sarbelio and cover me. Brother Sarbelio, take care of the enemy mage. The rest of you, handle the demons. And Brother Fabiano! Rescue Sister Kirhas and rejoin the main force!”
“Makto!”
A prayer document signifying affirmation erupted from behind him. Zephis placed his hand on the sword hilt and ran along the ridge.
-Thud, thud, thud, thud.
There were roughly three hundred warriors visible on the battlefield. Assuming at least half of them were enemies, the allied forces numbered only five. Five against a hundred and fifty? This was impossible unless the God of War descended.
Contrary to the widely held prejudiced belief, Diemonica are not immortal superhumans. They too bleed when pierced by blades and face death when fatally wounded.
However, what sets Diemonica apart from other Inquisition Officers, Heretics, or Enmagika is that divine power flows in their blood—
“Stop them!!”
“Where did these bastards come from!!”
-Boom!
The warriors of the Temple of the Gods, the battle weapons forged by human deities. This means they are on par with demons. Just as the Great Demon forges demons from souls, these are beings created by the divine protection bestowed upon a few chosen souls.
The formation collapses. Most of the spears and blades aimed at them scrape off the thick sloped surfaces of their armor. One attack, one counterattack. The warrior who scratched Diemonica’s armor soon lost his head and flailed before collapsing.
-Boom!
A fissure forms in the middle of the battlefield. The warriors of Hazart Palan, the demons, and their minions. All of them sensed the anomaly and momentarily lowered their weapons. What just happened? Who are these guys?
-Whoosh!
