I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

Chapter 112: Revolution Defense War - Decisive Battle (4)

In this war, the Imperial Army had never once felt they were taking the initiative.

In the first battle, they suffered immense losses against an obviously inferior enemy force, achieving only a pyrrhic victory. Since the enemy had voluntarily withdrawn, the frontline soldiers couldn't even properly feel the triumph.

All that followed was the hellish destruction of their supply lines and the starvation and suffering caused by poisoned supplies.

In the Decisive Battle in the Western Plains of Besançon, Grand Duke Leopold succeeded in luring Marquis Lafayette into a trap, but the result was a devastating defeat when Kroxx intervened in a battle that seemed all but won.

From the perspective of the frontline Imperial soldiers, it felt as if the entire war had been nothing but the Imperial Army manipulated by Marquis Lafayette’s traps.

In such a situation, a single word uttered unconsciously by an unknown Imperial soldier.

Trap.

The ripple effect of that single word was enormous.

To temporarily boost the Imperial Army's morale, which had plummeted to rock bottom, Grand Duke Leopold meticulously prepared stratagems to counter the areas where they had been tactically outmaneuvered by the Revolutionary Army.

This offensive had been sustained because it instilled the hope in the Imperial soldiers that they were winning.But the thought that all that hope was an illusion, intentionally orchestrated by the Revolutionary Army.

The moment that realization permeated the Imperial Army, the painstakingly restored morale was reversed, plunging into an even deeper abyss.

“What happened to all the troops that went over the hill? Where did they go!”

“Can't you see? They're all dead! Dammit, this is madness! I, I can't fight anymore!”

“It's another of Lafayette's traps! Run, run!”

The countless comrades who went over the hill had vanished somewhere, and instead, the sight of the Revolutionary Army pouring down from the hill threw the Imperial Army into a complete panic.

Grand Duke Leopold gripped the telescope in his hand so tightly it seemed it would break. The despair and cries erupting from the front lines did not reach where the Grand Duke was.

However, merely from the troops turning their backs and scrambling to flee, rather than even thinking of fighting, he could tell that the collapse of morale, so feared by the Imperial Army commanders, had actually occurred.

“Y-Your Grace.”

Duke Heinrich, the Chief of Staff, couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

But this battle too was ultimately lost; they had to retreat.

That intention, at least, was conveyed mercilessly to Grand Duke Leopold.

The Grand Duke gritted his teeth with an audible creak.

“No, not yet.”

On the hellish battlefield where the Revolutionary Army charged down the hill, launching a counterattack, and the Imperial Army crumbled, fleeing from it.

Grand Duke Leopold spat out, glaring at the intermingled Heavy Cavalry of the Revolutionary Army and the Imperial Army that had just clashed.

“Commit all Reserve Units to halt the offensive, even if only for a moment! We must prevent enemy light cavalry or infantry from joining the cavalry battle!”

“Ye-Yes, Your Grace!”

If they were defeated here, having thrown everything into this last stand, this war would end here.

All those countless deaths would be for nothing.

With things having come to this, only one path to victory remained for the Imperial Army.

If Count Wittelsbach’s cavalry and assassins succeeded in striking down Marquis Lafayette,

If only that happened, they could unsettle the Revolutionary Army, reverse the Imperial Army’s morale, and somehow recover.

Grand Duke Leopold clung to that faint hope, an anxious expression on his face as he watched the cavalry melee raging in the distance.

*

The battlefield of Heavy Cavalry, filled with the neighing of warhorses, shouts, and the clash of swords.

As I swung the sword, the blade of the mithril sword, richly infused with mana, glinted.

“Kuaaargh!”

An enemy cavalryman, his arm severed along with his sword, screamed, clutching the bleeding stump with his other hand, and fell from his horse.

Immediately after, a dagger flew at me, but I instantly parried it with my sword.

'Familiar angle, familiar sensation.'

'I know better how assassins targeting knights will interject, and at what moment.'

I immediately drew a dagger from my belt and threw it; the assassin, never imagining a counterattack so soon after his hidden weapon was lightly blocked, fell from his horse with an expression of disbelief.

'A dagger embedded in his brow.'

“Don't be afraid! Assassins whose presence is known are merely vulnerable in open combat! Don't rely on the Magic Barrier; trust in your martial arts and skills!”

As I shouted, spurred my horse, and charged in again, cleaving another cavalryman, the knights and Cuirassiers, who had initially been somewhat bewildered, began to gain momentum.

“Fo-Follow His Excellency the Marquis!”

“Die, Imperial invaders!”

At that sight, the Empire's Cuirassiers began to panic, and I once again dodged an incoming dagger and threw my own.

“Th-This is absurd...”

Another assassin, a dagger embedded in his chest, muttered with a vacant expression and collapsed.

“Ugh, how...?”

The Imperial Army's Cuirassiers are clearly shaken.

Assassins are a double-edged sword.

They resort to tactical maneuvers because they know they're outmatched, and the moment that maneuver is shattered head-on, they become worse than useless.

If their existence was unknown, a surprise attack might work. Gaston fell to one, after all.

But assassins are inherently raised to be used for surprise attacks and then discarded.

Ultimately, no matter how high the skill of these disposable pawns on the battlefield, it cannot match a knight's.

Besides, the skills I learned are precisely their skills.

I learned assassins' techniques to somehow find an opening against knights whose overwhelming strength and mana I could never match.

I parried another incoming dagger, threw my own, embedding it, and then laughed at the cavalrymen hesitating before me.

“What's this? The Empire's hired assassins are this pathetic? Is the Empire out of money? And their elite Cuirassiers, cowering behind assassins like rats.”

“U-Ugh. Attack!”

“How dare you insult the Empire's Cuirassiers-! Kugh!”

“Protect His Excellency the Marquis!”

The enemy cavalryman who charged was struck down by a Revolutionary Army cavalryman intervening from the side.

I cut down another cavalryman rushing at me and immediately drew a dagger to deal with another assassin.

I know better than them how and where to target a knight effectively.

If I project myself forward like this, the assassins will naturally target me instead of the regular cavalrymen, which makes it easier for me to predict their actions and for the other cavalrymen to fight effectively.

If there were a blind spot, it might be dangerous, but thanks to me rampaging at the front, our cavalry, superior in basic capabilities, is following and widening the path.

I cut down another cavalryman and quickly scanned my surroundings.

Assassins targeting me... none visible for now.

Perhaps I've killed enough of them.

After I rampaged like that for a while, a young man who appeared to be a commander emerged from the Imperial cavalry.

“......Astonishing.”

“You are Count Wittelsbach?”

“Indeed. Count Albert von Wittelsbach, at your service. You must be......”

The Count's gaze shifted from the black rose brooch on my chest to my face again.

“Marquis Pierre de Lafayette, I presume. Your fighting style is more akin to an assassin than a knight; I almost mistook you.”

As I let out a smirk, Count Wittelsbach spoke again.

“I am curious. How can you, a Marquis and a knight, fight more like an assassin than an assassin, and deal with extremely dangerous assassins so effectively?”

“Hmm. Did I spend about five years training them?”

Assassins sound incredibly terrifying, but in reality, they're just consumables used to kill a target, one way or another.

So, if their training takes too long, it's not cost-effective, and even if an assassin shows outstanding results or talent in the field, they're used to train other assassins, not deployed to the field themselves.

“......You speak as if you know the nature of assassins well.”

To Count Wittelsbach’s words, I replied with a smile.

“Of course, I know them well. I hired assassins and learned their techniques. The time I've spent training and in actual combat is more than double that of the ones you hired.”

Count Wittelsbach's lip twitched.

“A Marquis barely in his mid-twenties has practiced assassination techniques for over ten years? I didn't know the Revolutionary Army's famed general was prone to delusions.”

“Believe it or not, I don't care.”

It's the sum of before and after regression.

I'm not foolish enough to be taken down by mere assassins used as consumables.

I raised my sword and gestured with a slight tilt.

“Supposedly the Empire's finest knight, did you earn that title with your mouth?”

Count Wittelsbach's face contorted hideously, and he instantly drew his sword and charged.

The Count's saber rapidly aimed for my waist, and I parried it instantly.

No sooner was it parried than the sword, appearing almost to bend, drove towards my chest.

I parried it again, trying to create distance, but the Count immediately closed in, swinging his sword relentlessly.

“Indeed, your technique is quite impressive.”

Count Wittelsbach swung his sword instead of replying.

Right shoulder? No, chest.

Next, left leg, right leg, waist.

He relentlessly thrust and slashed, pushing me back.

The fluid attacks, with unorthodox and agile movements, are difficult to block.

But-

After a long exchange of blows, it was the Count who retreated first.

The Count, parrying my sword and creating distance, spoke, gasping for breath.

“What, in the world? How?”

I too breathed slightly raggedly, but composing myself more easily than the Count, I smiled.

This man must have been confident in his swordsmanship. It's certainly skilled enough to warrant confidence, but...

“It's certainly quite formidable, but the matchup is bad for you.”

Those who can overwhelm me with personal might are like the Blue Knight, Gaston, or Kroxx.

They crush technique and skill head-on with overwhelming mana and strength.

But this man relies on finesse and technique, and coincidentally, so do I.

My swordsmanship was developed precisely to defeat enemies I couldn't possibly beat in a frontal clash.

And if it's swordsmanship fought with the same finesse-

“You, you've never properly fought an opponent as strong as yourself, have you? Lack of experience.”

Across both before and after regression, I trained to overcome those who surpassed me in both talent and physique from the start.

Witnessing their overwhelming skill, I had to desperately improve myself to even slightly catch up to them.

But what about him? With his talent and skill, he'd be among the strongest in Francia, so there probably wasn't anyone comparable in the Empire.

I smirked, a corner of my mouth lifting.

“I guarantee, if you had fought Gaston, your head would be gone.”

“Yiik......! Kugh!”

Count Wittelsbach, provoked into trying to charge at my taunt, was startled and hastily swung his sword, but was a fraction too late to prevent a dagger from embedding itself in his leg.

“See? It is a lack of experience.”

Getting swept by emotions in a duel between knights, and not anticipating a surprise attack with a hidden weapon after a provocation is proof enough.

“H-Huh! The Count is losing!”

“Protect His Excellency- Aaargh!”

I ruthlessly cut down the enemy cavalrymen trying to protect Count Wittelsbach and shouted at my own men, who had been blankly watching my duel with the Count.

“Are you planning to let the invaders go peacefully! Attack!”

“A-Attack!”

“Retreat, retreat! Escort His Excellency the Count!”

As I charged at the enemies desperately trying to retreat, another dagger flew at me.

“Tsk, persistent!”

I parried it with my sword, but the enemies were already getting away.

I immediately took the bow slung on my back and nocked an arrow.

Count Wittelsbach is-

He is completely shielded by his cavalrymen, rendering him invisible.

Instead, I fired an arrow at the standard-bearer riding beside where the Count should be.

The standard-bearer on horseback, pierced through the neck by the arrow, stumbles and falls—Count Wittelsbach's flag, held in his hand, drops to the ground.

When the cavalry of both sides clashed, one side's flag was taken, and the other's disappeared.

Everyone on this battlefield will realize what that means.

I turned my gaze to the Imperial Army, completely collapsing and retreating as their last hope vanishes in the distance, and the Revolutionary Army beginning its pursuit.

I let out a small sigh of relief.

Grand Duke Leopold's prepared cards surprised me quite a bit, but the fact that we had a more difficult battle ironically made it easier to lure the enemy.

I was confident I could survive the assassins, and again, the plan to use myself as bait succeeded, leading to victory.

......What excuse will I make to Christine?

I'll think about that later.

I commanded the Cuirassiers surrounding me.

“Send a Messenger to General Morel. Tell him we will join him, so he should wipe out the enemy light cavalry and prepare for pursuit.”

“Understood, Your Excellency Marquis!”

“And send a Messenger to Desaix and Commander Millbeau at the main camp. Pursue moderately, then regroup and advance immediately to Nancy.”

This is a perfectly seized victory. I can't just waste it.

“Gentlemen, it is time to completely drive the invaders from this land.”