Chapter: 278
Elizaveta looked down at the soldiers, who were arranged in formation, from the high platform. The morale of the soldiers was so low that it was beyond words.
They knew that they would likely not live longer than today. In the face of certain death, a soldier is just as terrified as any ordinary human.
To begin with, the Seven Dragon Lords are beings that humans should not confront. They are the gods of their race. In a battlefield where gods tread, there is little that a mere mortal can do.
Moreover, the full power of the 2nd Legion is not gathered here.
“The 2nd Legion without artillery.”
The artillery division of the 2nd Legion was currently establishing a defensive line in the rear. Their role was to buy time until that defensive line was completed, and just like any breakwater in front of a tsunami, it was evident that they would be swept away.
The 2nd Legion’s composition mostly consisted of artillery, while the remainder was defensive forces to support the artillery’s bombardment. Thus, combining all the forces except the artillery, there were only about 5,000 infantry, and the cavalry strength was limited to light cavalry meant for creating a communication network at the front line.
This meant they would have to hold off the main force of the demon army and the Seven Dragon Lords for at least two more days with merely around 300 light cavalry and about 5,000 infantry, while the enemy’s numbers were difficult to estimate.
“A miracle will be needed.”
Elizaveta laughed self-deprecatingly. She had never lived a pious life, but at this moment, she had no choice but to lean on religion.
The Borodin Plain, in a basin, was filled with the vast forest beyond, covering the horizon. In the dawn, before the sun had fully risen, she quickly made the sign of the cross, gazing towards the rising east.
The king has no right to fall into despair.
She quickly regained her posture. In response to her signal, a mage cast a sound amplification spell on her.
At this moment, as the soldiers murmured amongst themselves, she stood up from the platform and stepped forward.
“Are you afraid? You, sons of Krasilov. Are you afraid?”
The soldiers’ gazes turned towards her. Some of the soldiers, inappropriately, spat on the ground or turned pale with fear.
It’s understandable. She had nearly forced them to gather to prevent desertion. The agents of the Counterintelligence Command had spent the night trying to prevent desertion attempts, and the surveillance over them was just as rough as dealing with peasant soldiers.
In such a situation, it was unreasonable to expect loyalty like before. Their hometowns were even now isolated and crumbling moment by moment.
“Are you afraid of the demon army’s offensive? Are you afraid of the impending death? Is your life that precious?”
-…
The expressions of the soldiers upon hearing her voice were unusual. The bodyguard held onto his weapon tightly as a precaution against a riot while staying close to the queen.
But Elizaveta pushed the bodyguard aside, trying to shield her with the shield, and spoke.
“Your hometown is burning, and your lives are like lanterns before the wind. The future of this country is grim beyond measure, and there is no chance of victory for us here today!!”
“Your Majesty!!”
The bodyguard, bewildered, tried to stop Elizaveta. But she struck the guard’s leg, causing him to kneel, and took an additional step toward the soldiers.
“Today! None of us may face tomorrow. Today!! None of us may return alive! But, today!! Krasilov will not fall, your hometown will not burn, and your families will not die while you still draw breath!”
Elizaveta’s fervent shout continued.
“The enemies will gather. The blasphemers whom they worship as gods will descend upon this land! Your deaths will be confirmed, and defeat on this front will be unavoidable!! But, but sons of Krasilov. For every moment you are alive, for every second and minute you endure! For that time, Krasilov will not fall to the enemy!!”
They will surely target me.
Elizaveta looked back at the soldiers with fiery eyes. Those soldiers who met her gaze involuntarily took a step back.
“Endure!! For as long as you endure, your families will live! Endure! If just one of you survives and continues to fight, Krasilov will not fall today!! The end of this fight is death, and the process is also death, but that time will prove the lives of you and this country!!”
The soldiers’ fear slowly began to dissipate. It was a battle they could not escape death from. However, every moment they survived would become the time to protect their families.
Death was still terrifying. Certain death would inevitably bring fear. But what was more frightening than death was the sight of their families’ corpses littering their hometown.
Not everyone had become an elite capable of overcoming the fear of death at this moment. It would be unreasonable to expect that level of mental fortitude from every single soldier.
But still.
“Sons of Krasilov. You finest warriors. The king of this nation promises you. Your king will never die later than you! Sacrifice your lives for this country, for your hometown, families, and neighbors!! In exchange, I willingly lay down my own life!! Face death!!”
-Face death!!
Some soldiers, nearly unconsciously, began to shout. Elizaveta scanned them and yelled again.
“Face death!!”
-Face death!!!
Now, more than half of the soldiers were banging their weapons against the ground, shouting. They were crying, tears mixed with fear and excitement.
“Face death!!! Raise your weapons! Look at the enemy!! Sons of Krasilov!! If even one among you fights to survive, Krasilov will not fall today!! Fight, do not submit to death!! Face death!!!”
-Krasilov! Krasilov!! Krasilov!!!
-Face death!!!
All the soldiers raised their voices loud. With bloodshot eyes, hoarse voices, and veins bulging in their arms, they slammed the ground, stomped their feet, and shouted.
The earth trembles. The forest beyond the horizon shakes in response to the shouts of the men present.
Death was still terrifying. An unavoidable disaster was bound to be frightening. But now, there was no man who would give up and flee.
Elizaveta stepped back, feeling the sound amplification spell fade. The bodyguard approached and draped a cloak over her shoulders.
“Give me my weapon.”
Receiving the familiar sword from the guard’s hands, she turned her gaze towards the horizon. Then, in a voice that would not be heard by others, she whispered.
“What about the dwarves?”
“They say they will launch an attack at any signal you give.”
“Good. We just need to hold out for two days.”
She murmured, as if to reassure herself. A battle where even a single day would require a miracle, if they could just hold this position for two days, that would be sufficient.
She could not engage in a battle that was likely to end in defeat. A great field commander gives order for the soldiers to face death, but at the same time prepares a minimum strategy to ensure those soldiers can withdraw alive.
So this carefully chosen ground is here. The basin shape would mean that the enemy would naturally seize the high ground, and the situation would inevitably turn unfavorable, so there was a risk of encirclement.
It looked as if she was stalling for time with the intent of suicide.
However, a basin also means it is closer to the underground than any other terrain.
“I will buy enough time to retreat for two days. If the defensive line is established around that time, then the real battle will begin then.”
The conscription decree had already been issued to the southern lords. If they had set out after the decree, the reinforcements would likely be completing their assembly near the defensive line by then.
Just two days, only two days of stalling and retreating through underground tunnels, and then it would be her victory. Yes, it was enough to gamble her life for just those two days.
If she does not risk her life, the demon army will not act directly, nor will the Seven Dragon Lords.
This was the strategy she had managed to squeeze out with slim odds. If she did not gamble, it was impossible to prepare within a situation that had no potential.
A truly excellent commander typically spends more time on marching, supply, and terrain selection than on the battle itself. She had done just that. She had not prepared for battle. For her, war was an extension of intrigue.
The war of the highest commander of the Cleanup Unit, Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov, was always conducted in this manner. To deceive both allies and enemies while concealing her daggers.
Now all that remained was for the soldiers who had been deceived by her to risk their lives to buy her two days.
However, one thing set her apart from other conspirators. That she too would place her own life as a chip in this game of life.
The arrogance of a king commanding the people to risk their lives comes with the duty to mirror that bet with their own life.
This burden is what the royalty of Krasilov must bear. Elizaveta would never abandon her duty.
*
The forest shakes. Birds rise into the sky. From the east, west, and north.
Above all the forests, flocks of birds soar like clouds. Terrified creatures rush about. The beasts of the forest held their breath, burying themselves deep within the caves, waiting for the waves to pass.
Death walks. A god who has lost its sanctity walks the land. Thud, thud. The god’s steps were heavy and sticky.
Gold flowed like a river, gathering again and merging into one. As the morning sun shone long across the forest, the gold, rising up as if to rival the sun, burned brilliantly like the sun.
A giant walks. The forest trembles beneath it. Literally, all the forests within sight.
The demons were gathering, crossing down through the Grand Gate, scattering again as they trampled through the entire land.
Under the command of their god, all kinds of tribes walked, each grasping their spears and blades.
– Buuuuuuuuuuuuuu—!!
In the eyes of the god, an encampment of humans was visible. A human standing guard at a makeshift watchtower sounded the horn frantically with a face pale with fear.
Chaos ensued. The encampment shook precariously, as if it were a frightened beast gasping for breath. And in that moment of turmoil, the god spotted a human.
A silver-haired woman, she glared at him while drawing her sword. Their eyes met. Even though they were still far apart, they could feel their gazes locked onto each other.
[Not bad.]
The voice of the god pierced through the distance. The color of the woman’s complexion was pale, yet she stared unwaveringly at the god.
[Your trivial resistance will provide quite the entertainment. But you. O king of humans. You shall not die easily. I shall allow your death only after your people’s last breath has been drawn and their final scream has ended.]
The voice of the god resounded thunderously beneath the heavens. The humans trembled, turning pale merely from the presence of that being.
And the king, facing that gaze directly, supported his trembling body, having driven his sword into the ground—
With a smile, he shouted.
“Your words are lengthy.”
She drew the sword that had been planted upside down on the platform and pointed it at the god.
“Come at me. Krasilov shall become the grave of false myths, as it always has.”
EP47. A Prayer Towards the Sunrise.
