The Crusaders stopped advancing about 1 kilometer away from the Galahad fort and started executing their battle formation. Although the area was close to Daidaros, which has steep mountain roads, the area they were currently at was near the Galahad fort and had a width about 1 kilometer so they could easily deploy a large squad there.
And the formation they completed was one which forced the white robe slaves to be on the front line. No, they aren’t really trained soldiers so they were just pushed forward, that’s all.
Unlike the perfectly coordinated Spada army’s alignment, the slaves were all disoriented and looked mostly like a crowd of people. And in reality, they will be laying down their lives like it is worth nothing.
The death march will begin—I can’t stop it even if I want to.
Along with the annoyingly loud trumpet noise, the war slaves advanced through the snow. And in the frontline, there were also a Doltos mixed with them and they were the ones mainly creating the path to the castle walls. There was no fierce roar or war cries—it was a creepily quiet charge.
However, the silence didn’t last long either.
They will soon be greeted with waves of arrows since they will be entering the Spada army’s attack range.
“–Attack-!”
As if a lion roared, King Leonhart’s issued his command and the Spada army started its attack. In response to the defenseless charge of the people of Daidaros, the Spada army started attacking without mercy.
The Spada army’s strong and powerful soldiers tightly drew their bows to the limit and released all at once. And the blue skies of Galahad turned into an unparalleled volley of steel rain.
And after a short pause, the arrowheads reached their targets—countless preys squirming on top of the snow. It felt as if a red flower had just suddenly bloomed in the middle of a pure white land. The flower of fresh blood was in full bloom.
“…..d.a.m.n it.”
Although close to a thousand enemy soldiers’ lives were being taken in that moment, what left my mouth was a heavy sigh.
The war slaves were wearing white robes. They were just wearing light shirts and pants underneath. They didn’t even have any heavy outfit on to keep out the cold, let alone have any chain mail on.
Are you saying they climbed that snowy mountain in the middle of winter just to lay down their lives for no reason?
Am I feeling sentimental watching the defenseless war slaves fall down one after another in face of the rain of arrows because my resolution isn’t strong enough? Or is this hesitation the proof of being sane as a person?
“I have no other choice… the fight.. has already begun…”
Even then, at the moment, I don’t need sanity or morals or ethics. The only thing I need is strength.
Just as Shirazaki’s illusion brought forth by l.u.s.t Rose had narrated, I have killed many people up to this point. I don’t have the right to be worrying about that at this point.
“…..Lily, Fiona, let’s do it.”
Even without me saying it out loud, they should have started attacking the moment Spada army started attacking. I should have also started using Bullet Arts long ago.
But, the two of them silently waited for me. Without attacking, without criticizing—they just waited for me to start moving by my own. I feel they might have even retreated with me without complaining if I said I wouldn’t fight here.
“Yep, then let’s go!”
Lily said with a smile, giving a ‘banzai’ pose. And in both of her raised palms, two dazzling light spheres starting forming.
“Understood.”
As Fiona held her crimson wand ‘Spit Fire’ and swung it once, numerous fiery spheres were produced in the air. Apparently Fiona can do dexterous stuff like this as the mana control is done by the wand.
“Let’s go, Hitsugi ‘The Grid’ mode, Gatling gun.”
I received the jet black artillery from the black-haired maid from the shadow and aimed it towards the white army on the other side of the wall.
If this lot of them crowd around like this, it will probably hit no matter how I aim. The more I shoot, the more the enemy will die. I don’t have any grudge towards the people of Daidaros but they will have to die.
“I am sorry but—I have come here to war! Burst!”
Although I was trapped by the gloomy sentiments, the trigger was surprisingly light.
“Ahh, ah. I made it here, I have finally made it this far…”
A single goblin walked on top of the ice with heavy steps.
He was wearing a thin white robe made with cheap fabrics. And on top of that, his clothes underneath were also thin. It was weird even to him—how he hadn’t yet died of the cold.
“Wooh, it’s huge, huh? So that’s Galahad castle’s wall, eh? It’s even bigger than the one in Daidaros, isn’t it?”
The fateful wall—which the Dragon King Garvinal couldn’t cross even after trying 4 times. The prideful Daidaros knights might glare at it with resent but for a poor farmer like him, it was spectacle.
Ahh, really, how good it would have been if this was a field trip. And now, from that wall which has the ultimate defense, countless arrows were raining down along with cataclysmic fire and lightning magic.
When he looked right, he spotted a male war cat lying on top of the snow with an arrow coming out of his chest. It probably hit his lung and not his heart, unluckily. He was coughing up blood as he violently kept coughing in pain.
He won’t survive. And even if there was, who would extend their hand to him—other than the G.o.d of death?