Unexpectedly, those red-robes seemed able to conjure magic barriers on their own.These barriers weren't very strong, but with their attacks spread out from multiple directions, the Night Knights' firepower was dispersed. That way, each red-robe only had to withstand a portion of the assault, never too overwhelming.
"Prepare to engage!"
As the enemy was about to rush in, the Night Knights braced themselves. But what came first was not the red-robes themselves—it was streaks of red lines.
Each line originated from the red-robes scattered around the battlefield. They shot forward at high speed, like arrows. Yet, to the Night Knights, that speed was hardly impressive. Several platoons broke off in different directions, evading the concentrated attacks. In the end, the red lines merely pierced into the ground, crossing one another to weave into a net.
"Directly attack those red-robes!!"
Having neutralized that strike, Otto immediately gave the order to assault.He had no idea what purpose those red lines served, nor did he intend to find out. The only way forward was to seize initiative as fast as possible, suppress the red-robes' momentum, force them onto the defensive—and, ideally, end the fight quickly. Only that way could they reduce the mysterious impact of enemy sorcery.
Boom——
Sure enough, reacting swiftly proved to be the right choice.The areas just abandoned by several platoons—where those red lines had formed their nets—suddenly erupted in violent explosions. Judging by their force, they far exceeded even the charges Rogm had planted earlier.
Otto glanced back at the blasts, confirming there were no casualties on their side, before turning his full attention back to the fight ahead.
He pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin, and held it until it was about to go off before hurling it forward.
The explosion raised a cloud of dust, seemingly weakening the red-robe's barrier. His submachine gun spewed fire relentlessly, bullets hammering into it, rippling out strange waves across its surface.
The red-robe, forced onto the defensive by Otto's charge, retaliated with a red line thrust straight at him. Otto slipped past it with ease. A blast sounded behind him as the taut red line shattered like an icicle smashing against stone, scattering into nothing.
When the first strike failed, the red-robe fired another. His face darkened, but even so, he failed to wound Otto. By then, Otto had already closed to within three meters.
Crack—
The bayonet drove into the barrier, letting out a piercing, distorted screech.
His submachine gun was empty, but Otto had no time to reload. He lunged forward with the blade instead. The barrier, weakened though it was, still wasn't fragile enough to be pierced through completely. The bayonet's slender blade sank only partway in; two centimeters shy of the muzzle, the entire weapon jammed against the barrier and refused to budge.
"Damn it..."
Otto had no choice but to let go with his right hand and twist aside from yet another red line lashing at him. Clearly, his opponent was trying to force him to abandon his weapon.
He landed, drew his combat knife, but barely had time before another red line stabbed toward him.
"Back off!"
Edwin's shout rang from behind. Though Otto didn't know what he had in mind, he dodged the red strike and instinctively pulled back further.
Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—
That familiar, low-frequency rhythm erupted from the rear: the death beat of the 20mm autocannon—slow, steady, and suffocating.
The red-robe's barrier, hammered by several shells, finally shattered. Without its protection, he was unsurprisingly torn apart by the autocannon's fire. Blood and flesh sprayed across the lingering fragments of the barrier before splattering apart completely as more shells punched through the collapsing "bubble"—its outline briefly visible only thanks to the blood staining it.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!"
The Night Knight manning the autocannon didn't seem eager to stop, forcing Edwin to bark the order to prevent any more wasted shells.
"Well done. Now aim over there..."
The melee raged on. Edwin, having freed Otto from his predicament, wasted no time relocating with his crew, hunting the next target.
"Damn, this thing really does the job..."
Otto muttered, watching Edwin and his gunner disappear into the chaos. He cast a glance at the mangled red-robe, then picked up his submachine gun and threw himself back into the fray.
The overall battle showed no decisive tilt yet. The Sevar who had charged out from their ranks were now entangled in a melee with the Night Knights. Their attacks failed to inflict any casualties, while the Night Knights' counterstrikes also couldn't decisively cut them down. The stalemate lay in their balance of offense and defense: the Night Knights' agility and reflexes let them slip past Sevar assaults, while Sevar's barriers absorbed most of the incoming fire. Only the 20mm autocannon could reliably punch through.
"Charlie! Over here!"
Finally spotting an idle squad leader amid the chaos, Otto grabbed him before he could dash back into the fight.
"What is it?"
The clash had Charlie brimming with excitement, panting hard as he spoke.
"Go rally all the autocannon gunners left at the rear. Then pass my order—have Nemilic's platoon join the fight, as fast as possible!"
"Understood!"
Otto gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. Charlie took off at a sprint, weaving through the storm of bullets, explosions, and red lines.
The "autocannon gunners left at the rear" referred to the eight gunners from the two reserve platoons stationed behind the line. They were a flexible force, kept back both to guard against ordinary Davole troops and to respond to emergencies. Fortunately, the red-robes weren't too numerous—four platoons of Night Knights could keep a hundred of them fully occupied. That freedom made calling in the reserves much easier; compared to the judgment cells, the red-robes were far more manageable.
"Fight alone or in pairs, spread out. Their clustered strikes are dangerous—staying dispersed won't give us much of an edge."
When Nemilic's platoon entered the fray, Otto quickly passed on what he'd learned in the skirmishes, before they split up and dove back into battle.
...
"These Night Knights truly are a tough bone to chew..."
Behind layers of infantry lines stood a movable platform for officers to observe the battle. Atop it, the legion commander and several priests watched.
"All these years, and even for me, this is the first time crossing blades with them."
The red-robed elder leaned on his staff, studying the battle keenly.
"I believe we can advance the infantry now, press alongside Sevar, and crush them in one blow."
"That would cost too many lives. You saw what happened to that assault team just now."
"But without sacrifice, how can victory be won? I believe the Holy God will bless such devotion."
"The Holy God wills us to reclaim lost ground, to scour the infidels' soil. If we bleed too heavily here, how shall we fulfill His true command?"
At that, the elder turned his head slightly, shooting the legion commander a sidelong glance. His tone made clear his displeasure at having his own words thrown back at him.
"I... I understand."
The commander lowered his head helplessly. He hadn't meant to oppose the priest—after all, clergy were the guides of all ignorant mortals. But the priest's contradictory stance left him uncertain of what to do next.
"Do not worry. Sevar are draining their ammunition and stamina. When the time comes, then we will advance the infantry."
The elder's simple explanation eased the tension. The commander's earlier reaction had already pleased him enough; there was no need to chastise further. Ignorant mortals should remain ever in confusion.
"My lord, the scouts report the enemy's main force is approaching."
A courier dashed through the infantry lines, swept back his cloak, dropped to one knee at the foot of the platform, and shouted his report.
"How many are they?"
The commander, his gloom suddenly gone, strode to the platform's edge eagerly.
"Roughly a thousand. They'll arrive within half an hour."
"Half an hour..."
The news quickened the commander's steps as he paced the platform, but soon he issued orders:
"Lucon, take your men to the south and west gates. Reinforce the defenses there."
"Yes, sir!"
Captain Lucon answered crisply and jogged off to his company.
The Pillars of Gus indeed offered ample defense, holding the enemy outside. But with a contingent of Night Knights still inside their lines, all situations had to be considered. Of course, the commander also glanced at the priest for approval—but seeing him remain silent, he knew the arrangement had met no objection.