Chapter 128 - A Burden Too Heavy (5)
The formation hastily thrown together by the 1st Battalion's 1st and 2nd Companies was a square formation.
It was the kind usually deployed against cavalry, but ever since the Balt Gun had been improved, there was really no need for it anymore, so it had pretty much fallen out of favor.
As a result, the soldiers hadn't been trained in how to form a square, and their formation was awkward and sloppy in every way.
Worse still, the square formation was meant to defend against cavalry and required covering all sides—making it difficult to focus firepower in one direction and leaving them especially vulnerable to enemy gunfire.
Bang! Ratatat!
"Ugh!"
"Aaagh!"
Soldiers on the western side of the square crumpled under gunfire from the Belliang Army.
Anyone could see the square, stranded in the middle of a battlefield dominated by trench warfare, was a perfect target.
The Imperial Army troops huddled in the formation were terrified.
When soldiers are gripped by fear, a square can't hold.
No matter how powerful the army or its weapons, they can't fight without morale, and there's nothing more hollow than a square formation made up of terrified soldiers.
"Bruno! Block the west with the Balt Wind!"
"Hah! Hah!"
Yurgen responded instantly.
Bruno looked like he might collapse at any moment, but at Yurgen's command, he unleashed the Balt Wind toward the west with all his remaining strength.
"It's too strong! Adjust it!"
"Yes…!"
Isaac read the flow of the Balt Wind and called out advice to Bruno.
With little combat experience, Bruno followed Isaac's instructions and carefully adjusted the strength of the Balt Wind.
"That's good!"
As soon as it reached just enough power to block the enemy's gunfire, Isaac shouted urgently.
Bruno then collapsed to the ground and focused all his strength on maintaining the Balt Wind at that level.
Thanks to the Balt Wind, the soldiers could fight without fearing enemy fire.
A hit to the cuirass or helmet was only enough to startle them, and with their stiff raincoats and thick wool uniforms, as long as they could endure the searing pain of bullets striking their arms or legs, they could keep fighting.
However, getting hit in the face, while not always instantly fatal, would almost certainly lead to death without proper treatment.
But with Bruno dropping out to sustain the formation, only two other Baltrachers from 1st Company and Isaac were left to face the Belliang Baltracher, the "Star of Summer."
"Southeast!"
"Wh-Where is southeast?!"
Ferdinand called out the location of the Star of Summer, but the shell-shocked Baltrachers couldn't figure out where southeast was in the chaos.
On top of that, overusing Balt had given them all pounding headaches and dizziness, and their vision was so blurry they could barely distinguish anything around them.
"Shit! Krieger!"
Bang!
As Yurgen cried out desperately, Ernest, taking a knee, fired at the Star of Summer as she darted about like a streak of light.
The bullet flew straight and struck the Balt Shield.
"She's swinging in from the left!"
Ernest, reading the movements of the "Star of Summer" with precision, fired and shouted out.
The Baltrachers followed the direction of Ernest's muzzle, staying on alert, while the soldiers unleashed a barrage of bullets at the rapidly moving Balt Light.
Both the 1st and 2nd Companies of the 1st Battalion had some knowledge of the "Star of Summer."
Her control of Balt was terrifyingly powerful, but she couldn't keep fighting for long.
If they kept firing and forced her shield, making her consume Balt, eventually she would run out of strength and be forced to retreat.
However, inside the trench, she had slaughtered both soldiers and Baltrachers, letting her collect a large supply of spare Balt Batteries.
Unlike before, instead of launching an all-out attack, she circled around the perimeter of the Square Formation, deliberately draining the 1st Battalion's resources.
"Damn it! How long is this going to—"
"Hold!"
Just as one of the 1st Company's Baltrachers, impatient, was about to attack the "Star of Summer," Ernest shouted sharply, his voice like a crack of thunder.
Both 1st Company Commander Ferdinand and 2nd Company Commander Yurgen had left the Baltracher operations entirely in Ernest's hands, focusing solely on directing the soldiers.
"Do not respond first, under any circumstances, until she attacks us!"
As lieutenants, the Baltrachers technically outranked Ernest, who was only a platoon leader.
But Ernest gave his commands with fierce intensity, and no one was foolish enough to argue in this situation.
Her movements are getting more predictable.
Ernest realized that the "Star of Summer" was becoming more predictable in her movements.
It wasn't because she was running low on Balt.
Maybe she's reached her mental or even physical limits.
Even just maintaining a barrier and summoning the Balt Wind puts more strain on a Baltracher than most people realize.
You only had to look at Bruno, who was now slumped on the ground, face ghostly pale and blood dripping from his nose, to see how much it took out of them.
No matter how powerful she is, there's no way a Baltracher could keep moving like that and be unharmed.
Movements that fast and complicated would obviously put a huge mental strain on a Baltracher.
But the even bigger problem was that the fragile human body simply couldn't withstand such rapid changes in direction.
Ernest had prevented the other Baltrachers from using their power, which allowed them to recover at least a little physical strength.
But the "Star of Summer" was relentlessly using Balt, constantly pushing her body past its limits.
...
In reality, the "Star of Summer" felt like she was literally at death's door.
Every time she switched directions at high speed, her body was crushed by the sheer force and it felt like all the blood was being drained right out of her.
If she so much as let down her guard for a moment, she might collapse right then and there.
Just running left her body covered in bruises; her internal organs were so compressed she vomited and saw blood in her urine.
So before battle, she would deliberately vomit on an empty stomach to rid her body of anything that might slow her down.
Bright red blood streamed down her pale face.
No, it didn't just stream—it spurted from her nose, forced out by the tremendous pressure ravaging her body.
Having fought all the way down the front from the north, her body had already reached its limits.
At last, the "Star of Summer," unable to buy any more time, switched to an all-out offensive.
She struck with pinpoint accuracy at the corner of the Square Formation, its greatest weakness.
"She's coming! Balt Wind!"
At Ernest's shout, the three Baltrachers unleashed Balt Wind simultaneously, blocking the way ahead, while at the same time, the soldiers poured bullets in a relentless barrage.
But because the "Star of Summer" had broken through at the corner of the Square Formation, their angle for firing was poor.
More than half of the bullets missed their mark.
Many of the shots went wide.
Even so, the Balt Shield protecting the "Star of Summer" looked dangerously unstable, quivering under the attack.
She was facing three Baltrachers' Balt Wind head-on, getting hit by bullets as well.
There was no way she could be unharmed.
"This is insane!"
But despite that, even with three Baltrachers joining forces to maintain the Balt Shield, they were unable to stop the "Star of Summer."
As the sensation of thick skewers spinning and piercing them from head to toe overwhelmed them, the Baltrachers were left horrified.
The power of the "Star of Summer" was simply too much for Balt Wind to hold back.
It was completely irrational.
To stop her, they'd have to use Balt Psychokinesis or their shields to create a direct collision.
But a head-on clash would be ruthlessly shredded by that bizarre way she wielded Balt—there'd be no stopping her.
It would be tough with just two Baltrachers.
But with three, it was possible.
If they didn't let their guard down and responded properly, they could hold her off.
In the brief moment when the "Star of Summer" broke through the Balt Wind and charged forward, dozens of bullets struck her, but even then she didn't stop, staring fixedly at Ernest in the center of the Square Formation, her face streaked with her own blood.
"Issac, standby."
Just as he was about to reach the formation, slaughter the soldiers, and break through, Ernest spoke to Isaac in a low voice.
"Barrier!"
Following Ernest's shout, the Balt Shield materialized.
Crash!
"Aaagh!"
The "Star of Summer" collided with the Balt Shield.
The impact was so immense that soldiers were thrown aside, tumbling as they scrambled to retreat in panic.
At the far right edge of the Balt Shield, which spanned a wide area directly ahead, the "Star of Summer" burst through, reaching out with her hand.
In that brief instant, she'd shifted direction to target the very edge of the shield.
And it worked brilliantly.
In their panic, the two Baltrachers of the 1st Company, instead of concentrating their shields where the enemy was, spread them wide without thinking.
Just as they'd been taught at the Military Academy, they tried to cover the widest area possible to eliminate any surprises.
As a result, the only overlapping shields were in the center, and at the ends, just one Baltracher maintained each side.
Trying to stop the "Star of Summer" with a shield spread thin by a single Baltracher was impossible.
"Get down!"
Ernest hurled himself backward, shielding the Baltrachers as he hit the ground and rolled.
Whoosh!
A pale surge of Balt Light swept just above Ernest's head.
A rush of cold air hit his sweat-soaked hair, leaving him feeling oddly refreshed.
His raincoat's hood—and even the helmet—had been completely torn away.
Rainwater and wind now poured straight in through the gaping hole in his helmet.
If he'd been just a second slower, it wouldn't have been his helmet that got torn apart—it would have been his entire head.
With the "Star of Summer" now within their defensive formation, chaos was about to erupt.
Not only the Baltrachers, but also Ernest and the other officers were now within arm's reach of the "Star of Summer."
The two Baltrachers from the 1st Company urgently tried to push her out with their barriers and telekinesis.
"Isaac! Not yet!"
Even at this most desperate moment, Ernest ordered them to hold their ground a moment longer.
Isaac, who had been using all his strength to force the enemy back, flinched at the command and involuntarily paused.
In the blink of an eye, the "Star of Summer" broke through the resistance from the 1st Company Baltrachers and pushed even deeper into their formation.
Blue Balt Light erupted in all directions as the three Baltrachers clashed violently.
The "Star of Summer" single-handedly neutralized and overpowered the two Baltrachers.
Then, having broken through the telekinesis and barriers, the "Star of Summer" finally reached striking distance of the people she needed to kill.
"Now."
As the bloodied face of the "Star of Summer" broke through the torrent of Balt, Ernest drove his bayonet straight into her face.
Ddak!
The "Star of Summer" jerked her head aside to avoid the blade, and the bayonet scraped across her face.
The instant the muzzle touched her skin, the gun fired.
Stunned by the blast, the "Star of Summer" squeezed her right eye shut and hunched forward, and Isaac's Balt pressed down on her with all its force.
Even with her head whipped aside by the gunshot at point-blank range, the "Star of Summer" still swung her arm at Ernest.
Pale Balt Light slashed through Isaac's telekinesis, cutting clean through Ernest's gun and armor.
Then, with Isaac's strength, her body was slammed into the ground.
Bang!
The gun pressed right against her right cheek fired.
The Balt streaming from the muzzle tore open the right side of her face, leaving it covered in blood.
Yet even so, the "Star of Summer" kept her left eye wide open until the very end.
So even as the gun and breastplate were ground to pieces, she could see Ernest clearly—his lips tightly pressed together as he drew his dagger and charged at her with the speed of a hawk.
Thunk!
The "Star of Summer" twisted her body, and the Balt she desperately unleashed neutralized Isaac's telekinesis.
Ernest's dagger, pushing through that pale Balt Light, was blocked only at the last moment as she barely managed to raise her arm.
The dagger pierced right through the "Star of Summer's" right arm.
She struggled, crossing her left arm behind her wounded right arm, trying desperately to stop Ernest.
The "Star of Summer's" physical abilities were weaker than he'd expected.
Her small frame made that understandable, but even so, it was odd how little strength she had.
If Ernest had simply struck downward with his blade instead of forcing it through the torrent of Balt, the "Star of Summer" wouldn't have stood a chance—his dagger would have pierced clean through her arm and gone straight through her face as well.
"Hrrgh…"
As Ernest twisted the dagger embedded in her arm and leaned in with his full weight, the "Star of Summer" let out a faint, pain-filled groan.
It was then that Ernest realized that he—no, she—was a woman.
It wasn't just that she was still young or had delicate features; she was simply a woman.
But Ernest didn't care about that.
In fact, he was almost relieved.
At least she wasn't a child, so he felt less guilty about what he had to do.
Keeping his dagger pressed in place, Ernest quickly reached his left hand behind his waist. Then, with his left hand gripping that damn Nail Clipper Knife, Ernest slashed like lightning, aiming to stab and kill the "Star of Summer" in the throat.
Thud!
"Gah!"
It all happened in a flash.
From the moment Ernest drove the dagger into the "Star of Summer's" arm and pinned her down, to pulling out the Nail Clipper Knife and stabbing—less than two seconds passed.
She'd been bleeding from her nose from overexertion, had her head shaken by a gun pressed to her face going off, was crushed by telekinesis, and had her arm skewered by a dagger—all of this at once, and yet, within that mere two seconds, who could have imagined there was a Baltracher out there who could snap to and push Ernest away with telekinesis?
With his breastplate shredded, Ernest was struck in the chest by the force of telekinesis and thrown violently backward.
In her haste, the "Star of Summer" hadn't been able to kill Ernest—she'd only managed to shove him away with all her strength.
Ernest tumbled along the ground and struggled to get up.
The shock made his head spin so badly, his vision was flooded with white, leaving him nearly blind.
"Get up!"
Even in his dazed state, he understood that someone was shouting and trying to help him to his feet.
But the next instant, just as Ernest managed to stand, that person shoved him with all their might, knocking him over.
Ernest flailed as he fell, and that someone collapsed on top of him.
"Hah…"
A ragged, pained breath whispered in his ear.
"No…"
The only one who heard Ernest mutter that powerless plea, still unable to shake off the aftershock, was Yurgen—who had thrown himself over Ernest, shielding him with his own body.
"Kill her!"
A desperate cry from Ferdinand, sounding nothing like his usual self.
The crack of Balt Guns echoed in succession.
The Baltrachers squeezed out the last of their strength, creating pale beams of Balt.
"Company Commander…"
In the midst of it all, Ernest—breathing shallowly, unable to move—pulled Yurgen into his arms and called out to him in a desperate voice.
Still reeling from the shock, all sounds seemed to buzz and echo in Ernest's ears, and his vision was blurry.
"Kid…"
Yurgen's voice was weak, barely above a whisper.
"You didn't do anything wrong… It's the adults who…"
His breath was fading.
"I'm sorry…"
"C-Company Commander."
"I put… too heavy a burden… on you…"
There were so many things Yurgen wanted to say to Ernest.
So many.
But time would not wait for him.
The end was near.
Yurgen fumbled with trembling hands at his chest, finally managing to pull his battered Cigarette Box from his coat and shove it inside Ernest's shirt.
Yurgen felt cold.
He didn't know how to spend his final breath.
"Would you… write a letter… to my wife…?"
So, with his last breath, those words escaped him—perhaps a bit selfishly.
Because it was yet another heavy burden to place on Ernest's shoulders.
"Y-yes, Company Commander. I'll do it."
Yurgen closed his eyes.
Ernest's voice sounded distant now.
If only the kid had answered so sweetly before, instead of always talking back to a Company Commander as important as the sky itself.
Only now, at the end, did he finally sound so obedient.
What a truly infuriating brat, not a shred of charm in him.
"Ha…"
Yurgen let out a short breath.
Everyone fighting on the front lines says that in this hell, death has lost all meaning.
But maybe that's not true.
Maybe, just a little, it still means something.
A Company Commander risking his life to save a single Platoon Leader—it was a truly foolish thing to do.
But for an adult to risk his life to save a child—maybe that's not such a bad thing.
Too many had already died.
Too much had already been lost.
Maybe, at this point, it was all meaningless.
Maybe it was nothing more than a coward's need for self-justification.
After turning away from so many deaths, after sending so many to die under his command, how could saving just one Platoon Leader feel like enough?
But still, it was okay.
In the end, he had saved someone, hadn't he?
He hadn't killed, he had saved.
That alone brought a relief he couldn't quite describe.
Yurgen smiled a little.
It felt as if he had gained a younger brother.
Or maybe even a son.
They were only about ten years apart, and hadn't even spent that much time together.
No, not just Ernest, but Benzen, Paul, and all those others who'd died in passing—he'd wanted to save them all.
Because he couldn't, he'd tried to save Ernest.
'If this is what I was going to do anyway, why didn't I do it sooner? Idiot.'
Yurgen mocked himself, slowly tracing the outline of his regrets.
"Where, where are you hurt?"
"..."
"Company Commander. Company Commander?"
Ernest fumbled over Yurgen's unmoving body, trying to assess the extent of his wounds.
As the shock faded and his vision slowly cleared, something felt terribly wrong.
Red.
Everything was so red.
Yurgen, lying motionless, was drenched in red.
Ernest realized that the sensation under his hands—this clammy, slippery feeling—wasn't rainwater or mud.
His blurred vision, tinted with red.
Blood kept pouring endlessly from Yurgen's half-severed waist.
"..."
Only after seeing that could Ernest no longer deny it—Yurgen was dead.
Still clutching Yurgen's lifeless form, Ernest looked around in blank confusion.
The enemy had stopped their attack.
The 1st Company and 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion, under Ferdinand's command, had hastily formed a line and were firing back at the enemy.
There was no sign anywhere of the "Star of Summer."
"Get a hold of yourself!"
Ferdinand grabbed Ernest by the collar and shouted, shaking him back to reality.
"We're moving back into the trench! Move it!"
They hadn't managed to kill the "Star of Summer," but they had succeeded in driving her back.
Now they had to get back into the trench.
Following Ferdinand's orders, everyone scrambled and dove into the trench.
Ernest, dragged by Ferdinand's brute strength, lost his grip on Yurgen's body.
He reached out, grasping at nothing, as Yurgen's corpse slipped farther and farther away.
"Platoon Leader!"
"Damn it! Platoon Leader!"
Gustav and Ralf grabbed Ernest and hauled him into the trench with them.
"The Company Commander is dead!"
Gustav shouted, pulling Ernest, who had collapsed onto the floor of the trench, back to his feet.
"You have to lead 2nd Company now!"
Company Commander Yurgen Vendermere had been killed in action.
That meant Ernest, as 1st Platoon Leader and Deputy Company Commander, was now in command of the 2nd Company.
At those words, Ernest finally collected himself and looked around. The surviving men of the 2nd Company were all watching him.
Robert and Jonas, on the verge of tears—maybe already crying—looked lost and desperate, waiting for Ernest's orders.
...
Ernest slipped his blood-soaked hand inside his jacket and pulled out Yurgen's Cigarette Box.
Clatter.
He stared at it in silence for a moment, then tucked it back into his jacket.
Then, looking at the company members who were now solely focused on him as their commander, he spoke in a rough voice.
"From this moment on, I will be acting commander of the 2nd Company."
Naturally, there was no opposition.
He was a superior respected by his subordinates, a colleague honored by his friends, and a subordinate trusted by his superiors.
Now, Ernest had to lead the 2nd Company—whose eyes were fixed on him alone—to protect them and secure victory.
Sadly, he didn't even have time to mourn.