Chapter 141 - Death and Honor Are Not the Same (5)
Ernest quickly caught up with those running ahead of him. Regrettably, Bailey—who had ordered the 1st Battalion to charge into the forest without Levin's authorization, under the pretext of "the discretion of field command"—was riding right behind him, keeping a close watch to make sure Ernest didn't pull anything suspicious.
Bailey considered Ernest as much of a coward as Levin and was absolutely convinced that Ernest, like Levin, would only pretend to attack and then pull the troops back.
In fact, had Bailey remained behind with Battalion Headquarters, Ernest had been planning to go only as far as the edge of the forest, hide, and then retreat; Bailey's suspicion had been completely correct.
"What are you doing? Pick up the pace! Are you just going to let the enemy get away?"
From horseback, Bailey barked at the soldiers running ahead.
For the soldiers, who had to run from the plains into the forest and then fight the enemy, it was absolute torture.
But Bailey, riding on his horse, didn't realize how hard it was.
Yet, and quite annoyingly, the soldiers of the 1st Battalion had become so physically strong from Bailey's harsh training that they could keep running without tiring.
As they ran, cursing Bailey to themselves, they still sped up and soon plunged into the dark forest.
"Ha! They just abandoned their cannons and ran!"
The staff officers following behind burst into laughter when they saw the cannons the Belliang Army had left behind.
For the Belliang forces, who had been cut off from Balt Battery resupplies, these cannons were extremely valuable weapons.
They could strike from farther than the effective range of the Balt Gun, and could even break through the Baltracher's barrier.
Moreover, cannons themselves were enormous, heavy blocks of metal. The amount of iron used for just one cannon could arm dozens of soldiers. Some of the Belliang cannons were even bronze. Bronze is extremely expensive.
Any you capture is counted toward your battle achievements.
"Spread out and advance slowly!"
"What are you talking about! Don't slow down—pick up the pace and pursue them faster!"
As soon as Ernest gave the textbook order to disperse and search, Bailey snapped at him and commanded a charge instead.
The 2nd Company members, who had absolute trust in Ernest, hesitated, uncertain whose orders to follow—Ernest's or Bailey's.
In every battle so far, without a single exception, Ernest had always made the right judgment.
If Ernest said there were enemies, there were enemies; if he said there was a trap, there was a trap; if he said no, then you absolutely shouldn't do it.
Above all, just moments ago, Ernest had eerily predicted and warned them of the enemy's timing for an attack.
Men like Gustav and Ralf, who had fought alongside Ernest since he first took command, followed his orders in battle with the faith of true believers. As long as they did what Ernest said, they wouldn't die a useless death. Even after Yurgen was killed and Ernest assumed command as Acting Company Commander, until the former 13th Regiment Commander ordered the charge, not a single man in the 2nd Company had fallen under his leadership.
"What are you doing, 2nd Company Commander! Don't you see the enemy is fleeing?"
Among the staff officers who had followed close behind Bailey on horseback, Section Chief Captain Hans Schum also pressed Ernest to act. The other staff officers, unable to speak up because of their rank, simply glared at Ernest.
Ernest looked coldly over at Bailey and the staff officers. And he realized, with deep frustration, that there was not a single person here who would listen to anything he said.
"2nd Company Commander! What are you doing? We need to charge!"
Even 3rd Company Commander Andersen was now urging Ernest forward.
Since the 2nd Company—the backbone of the 1st Battalion—had come to a halt, the 1st and 3rd Companies also couldn't advance.
Ernest turned his head to look at the 1st Company to his left.
Ferdinand stood there, quietly meeting Ernest's gaze.
"Damn it."
Ernest ground his teeth and cursed quietly between them.
Bailey heard the outburst and his lips twisted in irritation.
"We're charging."
Ernest gave the order to charge, though it was obvious how reluctant he was.
In that moment, his mind was filled with endless ways the enemy could "feast upon the 1st Battalion like tender meat"—since they'd charged every last infantryman into the forest, without even reporting to Levin or leaving any reserves behind.
So many ways for the battalion to be carved up, just like that.
But now, the only way for Ernest to stop the charge would be to shoot both Bailey, the Battalion Commander, and Section Chief Hans—who'd likely take command of the 1st Battalion if Bailey fell—right then and there.
If he did that, they might retreat safely, but he'd be executed on the spot without trial.
"Charge!"
The order rang out to pursue the retreating enemy.
But no one shouted a war cry.
Unlike the officers, who were swept up in the idea of capturing Bertrand and seizing the Royal Flag, the soldiers couldn't care less about such things.
Hesitating because of Ernest, their excitement had faded, and now they realized they didn't really have a reason to fight.
The forest stretching out from the Bertebras Mountains was filled with massive, dense trees.
Compared to this, the Bertagne Forest, which Belliang had artificially created, was nothing more than an infant.
Massive tree roots pierced through the ground and jutted upward, and there were shallow brooks branching off from the river.
Naturally, it was impossible for the soldiers to charge straight ahead. On top of that, in the chaos of running wildly, they couldn't even figure out which direction they were actually heading.
All they could do was pant heavily and dash in whatever direction seemed like "forward."
As the terrain became so tangled that riding on horseback was nearly impossible, even Bailey and the rest of the staff officers finally dismounted and began to run on foot.
The moment they started running themselves, they finally realized just how difficult this was—and a creeping unease began to take root in the corners of their minds.
"Enemy ahead!"
"They're running!"
Bang! Bang bang bang! Bang!
At that moment, a firefight broke out at the far right end of the 3rd Company.
The soldiers fired at the fleeing enemy as they caught sight of their red uniforms.
The Belliang Army, firing haphazardly as they retreated, just pointed their muzzles backward and pulled the triggers without the slightest idea where their bullets were flying.
"I see a flag!"
"After them!"
Then, as the enemy hurriedly fled, the soldiers glimpsed what looked like a flag rolled tightly around its pole. It was obvious that carrying a flag unfurled in such a dense forest would be too cumbersome, so they must have rolled it up.
Usually, units never roll up their flags like that.
To hide a flag that symbolizes the honor and pride of the unit, as if it were something shameful—such a thing is unthinkable.
All the more so when it's the Royal Flag.
There's no way it would be handled like that.
Even when it must be stored, it is kept spread out as much as possible, not folded or rolled. If it absolutely must be taken down, there is a strict procedure: the flag is solemnly folded or rolled and carefully carried by a qualified Noble One.
A flag is a symbol. The Royal Flag represents the kingdom itself.
Yet here they were, frantically running away with the flag rolled up like laundry on its pole and slung over their shoulder.
Even if Bertrand was entrusted with the Royal Flag by virtue of being the King's nephew, if King Belliang found out he was treating the Royal Flag this way, he would have no choice but to punish Bertrand.
Whether it was from sheer outrage or simply to preserve royal authority in the face of such an insult.
In short, by any reasonable measure, Bertrand must have been desperately trying to at least protect the Royal Flag as he retreated in defeat.
"Catch them! Whoever captures that flag will be given ten thousand—no, fifteen thousand decks as a reward!"
The moment Bailey saw the rolled-up flag, he was convinced and immediately put a bounty on it.
For junior officers from noble houses, fifteen thousand decks was nearly a year's salary.
For farmers or fishermen living hand to mouth, it was a fortune they could never hope to save up in a lifetime.
When the soldiers heard Bailey's shout, only then did they become motivated and begin charging at the enemy.
"Control your speed."
As Bailey and the other staff officers rushed toward the 3rd Company, Ernest immediately ordered the platoon leaders to rein in their speed.
"What? But, Battalion Commander Sir… and isn't the Belliang Royal Flag right in front of us?"
Billim, flustered, asked Ernest again.
In this situation, he just couldn't understand why they needed to control their speed.
Simon felt the same way.
Still, Simon thought he ought to follow Company Commander Ernest's orders in the absence of Battalion Commander Bailey, so he began to slow down as instructed.
"Shut up and slow down!"
It was Robert—usually so gentle, playful, and sociable—who shouted at Billim like a demon, his face twisted and voice roaring like a beast.
Although Robert was the same age as Billim, just seventeen, he had already survived several battles in the Bertagne Forest—hell itself, really.
As an officer, he couldn't help but be hypersensitive about anything that threatened the lives of himself and his friends.
Coming from Robert—who always joked around and laughed everything off—this outburst was shocking, as if Billim had been burned.
Surprised and confused, Billim looked back at the 2nd Platoon and saw the NCOs already standing still, waiting for his order to slow down.
Since it was Ernest's command, they would slow down no matter what.
But Billim was still the platoon leader, so they waited for his word.
"…Slow down," Billim finally ordered, and the 2nd Company cautiously began moving, trailing the 3rd Company and the staff officers.
"Ernest!"
As the 2nd Company's pace dropped, the 1st Company kept running, and everyone was veering right, following the 3rd Company.
In the shuffle, the 1st Company caught up to the 2nd. Ferdinand called out loudly for Ernest.
Ernest looked back and spotted Ferdinand through the trees.
For an instant, the two locked eyes.
Only the two of them could fully understand what passed between them in that moment.
"2nd Company! Close ranks!"
Ernest ordered the 2nd Company, which had been moving in a dispersed formation, to tighten up.
His low, decisive voice swept through the trees like a gust of wind, clear and unmistakable to everyone's ears.
Startled but quick to react, they hurried to gather around Ernest.
Meanwhile, Ferdinand's 1st Company passed right by the 2nd Company and started chasing after the 3rd Company.
As they briefly crossed paths, Ernest and Ferdinand exchanged a small nod.
"Stay sharp!"
Ernest pushed through the closely packed soldiers, shouting as he led the way forward.
"Shit!"
Ralf, who seemed oddly used to this kind of situation, started swearing and fixing bayonets even before the order was given, and everyone else, seeing him, frantically began fitting theirs as well.
"From here, we're going to dig deep into the forest, circle around, and attack the enemy from the side and rear!"
Standing at the front of the 2nd Company, Ernest turned to shout so everyone could hear. Who knew how far the 3rd Company had gone—the only sign of them was scattered gunfire echoing in the distance. The sounds from the 1st Company were also fading fast.
"This is the enemy's trap! The 3rd Company up ahead will soon be surrounded! While the 1st Company joins to buy them time, we must attack the enemy's flank and rear, break their encirclement, and collapse their formation!"
Even in this horrific situation, Ernest felt a flash of longing.
Gripping his rifle with his left hand, he clutched the cigarette box in his coat with his right.
"2nd Company!"
"Yes, sir!"
"2nd Company!"
"Yessir!"
Those who remembered that dark night shouted back with strength at Ernest's call, and even the New Recruits joined in, shouting at the top of their lungs. Remembering Yurgen, Ernest yelled with determination in his voice.
"Let's go!"
"Uraaaaah!"
Ernest turned and started running.
As he recalled that night when they'd charged through the darkness, he showed those who had followed behind Yurgen the kind of back they should now follow themselves.
Their shouting lasted only a moment, because now they needed to move swiftly and quietly to catch the enemy off guard.
"Hup! Hup! Hup!"
The 2nd Company was running through the forest at a speed no one would associate with a company-sized unit.
Part of it was thanks to Ernest leading them along The Right Path, but it was also the result of having endured Bailey's grueling training in the Bertagne Forest.
They had run, rolled, and crawled in that forest until it felt like hell.
More than ten times a day, they'd fantasized about wringing Bailey's neck.
They couldn't run quite like Ernest, but the 2nd Company members instinctively knew where to put their feet for safety, and how to pace themselves to save energy.
Whatever else you could say about Bailey's character, his training was undeniably effective.
The 2nd Company raced lightly through the forest.
Even though this was their first time in a foreign forest, the men had absolute faith in Ernest, charging forward without hesitation, eyes fixed on his back.
Whinny! Thud-thud-thud!
It wasn't just the men— even the horses left behind and unattended after Bailey and the staff officers departed tried to keep up.
Despite the unsteady ground, they lifted their legs high, making their way carefully, doing their best to follow Ernest's lead.
If Ernest hadn't been able to find the path in this trackless forest, the rest of them would have never made it through.
Tat-tat-tat-tat!
Waaaaah!
Far ahead, the sudden volley of powder gunfire and thundering shouts crashed through the air like a bolt of lightning.
Most likely, the 3rd Company, chasing after the flag in high spirits, had plunged right into the enemy's maw.
It would take some time for the 3rd Company to be surrounded and annihilated.
Even though they'd fallen for the trap, the sheer firepower of the Balt Guns was overwhelming.
The enemy wouldn't be able to charge easily after that ambush volley.
During that window, Ferdinand's 1st Company would quickly join in to block the enemy from completing the encirclement and to rescue the 3rd Company.
Then Ernest's 2nd Company would strike the enemy's flank and rear, overturning the battle situation.
Ferdinand, too, saw how things were unfolding and realized this was a trap.
That was why he called out to Ernest, his eyes saying,
"Just like before."
Just like that night when they crossed through the Bertagne Forest, and just as they had in the military academy.
Words were unnecessary between them.
Despite having clashed many times, they understood each other all too well.
The forest was soon filled with gunfire, shouts, and screams.
The echoes bouncing through the dense woods were so disorienting that it felt impossible to tell which way was which.
Yet—even in the midst of this chaos—Ernest somehow managed to keep his bearings with uncanny precision. He was even analyzing the disordered sounds to judge the scale of the enemy encirclement, the intensity of their gunfire, and from that, could estimate both the enemy's numbers and their level of armament.
For any ordinary person, no matter how familiar with the forest or how well trained, this would have been impossible.
But right now, it was possible for Ernest.
So, this is where they put everything on the line.
Ernest realized the Belliang Army was far more numerous than he had expected.
They hadn't set this trap out of desperation, cornered with no other escape.
This situation had been flawlessly orchestrated from the very beginning—to lure the 1st Battalion straight into their grasp.
Bertrand predicted not just on the level of tactics, but on the level of strategy itself.
He wanted to announce his presence at Lanosel, draw in a regimental-sized force, and then cut off a battalion that blocked his path through the forest.
Bertrand anticipated that the Imperial Army, flush with confidence, would disperse their forces after claiming victory.
That's why he deliberately showed himself in the village before Lanosel, then retreated to Lanosel.
After that, he didn't hide inside the city but entered the forest—waiting until a battalion placed perfectly in front of him could be cut off.
And just as Bertrand predicted, the Imperial Army split their forces and advanced without hesitation. The 13th Regiment rushed to Lanosel as soon as they heard news of Count Bertrand Belliang Lafayette.
To guard against a surprise attack, they deployed the 1st Battalion in front of the forest, inadvertently delivering it straight into Bertrand's hands.
If the 1st Battalion were annihilated here, and as a result, the Balt Battery—which they had in generous supply thanks to the recent surge in provisions—were captured by the enemy, then it wouldn't just threaten the outcome of the Battle of Lanosel.
The balance of the entire war itself could be shaken.
The Imperial Army had simply been deploying its troops as usual.
Yet one after another—first the 1st Battalion, then the 13th Regiment, and then the reinforcements—they were about to be fed into the maw of the Belliang Army and defeated piecemeal.
A shallow hill between the 1st Battalion and the 13th Regiment had blocked their line of sight, and the brief moment it took for a courier to run between them had caused the crucial report of the charge to be missed.
Because of that one small mistake, not just the 13th Regiment but the entire 5th Division was now in danger.
This could very well upend the conclusion of the Belliang War, which everyone thought was already decided.
In this deep, dark forest, Bertrand had crafted a grand strategy—one to resurrect the Kingdom of Belliang from the brink of destruction. He had put it into action and was now on the verge of success.
He was a man capable of devising, unleashing, and actually succeeding with a plan like this.
No matter how careful or capable a commander Levin was, Ernest doubted he could win against someone like Bertrand.
Damn.
So that's how it is.
Ernest realized why a man like this had failed to stop the 5th Division.
At first, it was because the Empire's invasion had come so suddenly, leaving little chance to respond.
Then, because the attacks by the 6th and 7th Divisions had left him with too few troops and supplies to block the 5th Division.
And after that…
Star of Summer!
The Star of Summer, who could overturn a tactical situation by her own force and who was key to completing the overall strategy, had failed three operations in a row.
And by sheer coincidence, it was the 2nd Company—really, Ernest himself—who had stopped the Star of Summer all three times.
Ernest couldn't help but feel this was some kind of fated, ill-starred connection.
He also realized how strange it was that, even as he was running, all these thoughts had come to him in the span of barely three seconds.
Right now, Ernest felt as if a giant dam had burst in an instant, and his previously blocked thoughts were now surging like a mighty river.
So much was happening at once in his mind that, for the first time in his life, the speed of his own thoughts couldn't keep up, and in the end, he couldn't even fully understand what he himself was thinking.
It was as if time were moving in slow motion.
"Spread out! 1st Platoon, take the left; 2nd Platoon, you're in the center; 3rd Platoon, take the right! The enemy will appear soon! Don't be intimidated by their numbers! The 1st Company is on the other side—they won't miss their moment and will back us up, I promise! Isaac and Bruno, stick right next to me, and when I give the signal, break through the enemy encirclement together with the 2nd Platoon!"
"Yes!"
"Yes! ...Wait, break through?"
"That's right! Move out! 1st Platoon, pick up the pace, 3rd Platoon, slow down! Move quickly! We don't have time!"
Ernest didn't bother to explain the situation.
He himself, for a moment, couldn't explain what he should say or even clearly comprehend his own thoughts.
And only belatedly did he understand the orders he had given.
There's the Star of Summer.
It's possible that the 3rd Company has already been wiped out.
He scattered the 2nd Company to the left and right, forming a slanted diagonal formation with the left flank pushed forward, maximizing the area of contact with the enemy's flank and rear to instantly unleash damage, fear, and confusion.
If the enemy collapsed, that would be ideal; if not, and a direct engagement broke out, the superiority of the Balt Gun would still inflict heavy losses in a short time.
If it was Ferdinand, he would surely grasp Ernest's intentions and respond without missing the right moment.
To counter the Star of Summer, the Baltrachers had to be consolidated.
By pushing forward with Isaac and Bruno in the lead, then bringing in the 2nd Platoon—composed of veteran non-commissioned officers and seasoned soldiers—to join up with the main force, they could encircle the fragmented enemy on three sides and eliminate them quickly.
Afterward, they would link up with the surrounded allies and form a tight formation to stand against the Star of Summer and repel the enemy.
Ernest saw a possibility.
The battle had begun with them falling into the enemy's trap, but there was still hope.
Perhaps victory was out of reach, but defeat was not a certainty.
Because Ernest was a soldier trained by his respected father and the capable instructors of the Military Academy, he could seize even this slender chance.