novelraw Chapter 245: 245. Abyssal Holy War – Final Resistance (4)
Chapter 245: 245. Abyssal Holy War – Final Resistance (4)
Chapter 245. Abyssal Holy War – The Final Resistance (4)
Left Flank, Imperial Army Defense Line.
“Damn it, to think I'd see human wave tactics even more extreme than the Imperial Army's.”
Jill von Leonhardt was astounded, watching the sickeningly endless wave of Drones.
No matter how ceaselessly the cannons roared, firing shell after shell, no matter how much the soldiers fired, the enemies just didn't seem to dwindle.
It was bad enough for the soldiers facing the sickening tide of enemies before them, but from his high ground, Jill's eyes could see in real-time the endless waves of enemies pouring in from behind.
“Commander, Your Excellency, can we even win this fight?”
At his subordinate general's worried question, Jill chuckled lightly.
How would I know that?
No one here would know.But this wasn't the first fight without certainty he'd fought.
In fact, he'd often fought without even knowing why he had to.
The moment he opposed his father and the family elders' idea to incite a peasant uprising in the west when the Revolution broke out.
He thought it was wrong. And yet, he understood their motivation to protect their family by any means necessary, knowing there was no other way.
Not to mention the things he did while wandering as a mercenary after leaving his fief. For a mercenary, there was no justice; money was justice. But the chivalry he had learned his whole life never vanished, and it always left him with a sense of unease.
The moment he finally fought alongside the Revolutionary Army as a spy for Krafte. He agonized every second. He scorned himself for using Louis d'Aquitaine's good will and felt conflicted every moment he saw Lafayette fighting on the frontline, risking more than anyone.
After all that, he was now here.
By the personal will of none other than Empress Dowager Cecilia.
-I apologize, but, Your Majesty, Empress Dowager. I am a foreigner. This is an undeserved position for someone like me, who has served the Empire for only a few years.
-That is precisely why, Gilles de Lionel.
-I apologize, but because I am ignorant, I cannot grasp Your Majesty's will…….
-The Imperial Army has not escaped the influence of corrupt lords. The reforms you and your subordinates introduced have shown some results, but their influence is still minimal.
The Empress Dowager had not sent them here dreaming of romance.
-Where you are going is without a doubt a death trap, and I know that the Imperial Army you've reformed is still far lacking compared to the strong armies of the Central Continent, like Krafte or the Revolutionary Army. But I command you nonetheless to go to that death trap and survive.
Most of the people here were those without any real foundation in the Empire. They were either from low-ranking noble families or were officers of foreign origin.
-By doing so, show them that the Empire has not yet completely fallen, that it stood shoulder to shoulder with the strongest army of the Central Continent in the great holy war against that threat. Seize that glory and become a hero of the Empire, not a foreigner, and please assist the Emperor.
-…I will follow your orders, Your Majesty, Empress Dowager.
-I bestow upon you the surname 'von Leonhardt'. May the Empire and God's blessing be with you.
The smile on the Empress Dowager's face, now laden with the fine wrinkles from the weight of the years, was still etched in Jill's mind.
Jill looked at the generals staring at him, their faces filled with anxiety.
There was no certainty of victory.
But this was a battlefield where they had to fight.
A battlefield where they must win.
Jill von Leonhardt was, at the very least, certain of that fact.
And how much of a blessed thing was that?
"Hey, what are you going to do if you run away from here? Go back to your fiefs stuck in some rural corner? To be mocked by those pot-bellied, pompous nobles who sneered at us, wondering what we could possibly do?"
The officers chuckled lightly, and Jill laughed with them.
"At least right now, we're not the mavericks of the Empire, but playing the damn impressive role of the Barrier of Humanity."
Jill said with conviction.
"Honestly, I have no confidence in winning... but it's still worth fighting for. At least we know what we're fighting for. And if we win and go back, Her Majesty the Empress Dowager will reward us handsomely, even if it's just to spite the other nobles!"
"Hahahaha!"
The officers and generals burst into laughter, and Jill, smiling, turned his gaze back to the battlefield.
There was motivation, and there were smiles.
Then there was a chance of winning, too.
He chose to believe so.
*
Right Flank, Krafte Army Defense Line.
"Feuer!"
"Show them the overwhelming firepower of the Krafte Army!"
Under General Scharnhorst's command, Krafte's artillery batteries relentlessly spat fire, and the field of fire formed by the light infantry and Schützen cut down every drone that approached.
The field of fire defense line formed by the Revolutionary Army was, in the first place, designed by Krafte, which boasted the most superior gunfights.
The defense line, designed even more meticulously than the Revolutionary Army's, acted like a living fortress, intercepting every enemy that approached.
Occasionally, enemy troops armed with breech-loading rifles attacked, but as soon as the fortified soldiers, leaning against pre-placed sandbags, engaged them, the artillery's concentrated fire shattered the demons into pieces.
"Do not retreat!"
"Victory for Krafte!"
"Let us reclaim the glory of being humanity's strongest right here!"
The Krafte Army's line infantry, with their overwhelming discipline, did not yield an inch even in melee combat with the Drones.
King Heinrich I of Krafte stood firm, his sword propped against the ground, watching the chaos of the battlefield.
He was different from the Great King.
While he could find glory in the chaos of the battlefield, he could not feel the melody and amusement the Great King had.
"Your Majesty, this place is dangerous. Perhaps you should stay further in the rear..."
Hearing Scharnhorst's words, Heinrich I chuckled lightly.
Nevertheless, there was at least one thing he ought to emulate from the Great King.
"Did the Great King ever leave the front line?"
"Ah, no, he did not."
He was different from the Great King. To him, war was not a purpose, but a means.
Yet even the Great King held his position on the battlefield until the very end, only permitting himself death after taking responsibility as the one who started the war.
If that was the case, then he must do the same.
"I will be with you all until the moment the war ends."
"...It is an honor, Your Majesty, King!"
As General Scharnhorst retreated again, Heinrich I turned his gaze back to the Krafte Army, which faced the demons with the pride and discipline that the nations of the Central Continent had thought long collapsed.
Behold, oh, Demons.
The army you considered a means, the army you nurtured to draw blood, is now quenching its thirst with your own.
*
Center Army, Revolutionary Army Defense Line.
The demons' military forces swarmed in like a wave.
Even with the infantry arrayed in double and triple lines on the hill for crossfire, even with the concentrated bombardment relentlessly pouring explosive shells and grapeshot, the Drones that couldn't be stopped charged forward.
"Hold, hold!"
"Hold! Don't fire!"
The officers repeated General Nicolas Nere's thunderous shout, and the soldiers swallowed dryly, saving their final shot for as long as possible.
When the Drones finally reached close range, Nicolas Nere cried out.
"First row, fire!"
The kneeling infantry fired in unison, aiming for the heads, and the charging Drones fell down in droves.
But the Drones, without any fear or terror, simply advanced, regardless of their comrades falling.
"Second and third rows, fire!"
The second row aimed their muskets, and the third row, resting their guns on the second's shoulders, fired at once.
With that alone, more than half of the first wave of approaching Drones fell.
"For Francia!"
"Brace for impact!"
"Long live the Allied Forces!"
General Nicolas Nere shouted as he drew his sword, and the officers followed suit, drawing their own swords and yelling their own cries.
As the infantry thrust forward their gleaming bayonets, they formed a wall of blades, and the first wave of Drones crashed into that sharp spear wall, starting the melee combat.
Right behind General Nicolas Nere, at the defense line command post of the most fiercely contested salient,
"Keep bombarding! The enemies are swarming behind them anyway, so just pour it on ceaselessly without worrying about friendly fire!"
"Yes, Sir!!"
Because the defense line hugged the hill, it was possible to use direct fire cannons to strike the enemy position over their own troops' heads.
The artillery corps had already been in engagement for hours, but thanks to ample rotation personnel, they were still holding on.
Damien De Millbeau, in charge of the salient, clenched his fist as he observed the vast battlefield.
They had dealt with countless Drones, but despite that, the Drones were still relentlessly swarming in.
With an automatic expression of weariness, Damien muttered to himself.
"Damn Lafayette."
To be in another death trap like this because of that damn bastard.
But...
Damien glanced at the blue mana mass slowly descending from the sky and then lowered his gaze again.
This time, there was a definite time limit, and it wasn't for him, but for the enemy.
Anyway, if we hold out, that's all that matters. If we hold out.
When it came to holding out while at a disadvantage, he had crossed the brink of death countless times.
"Let's do this."
Damien muttered, frowning as he compared the war situation with the operation map.
"Damn it, how can anyone look at that and give pinpoint sniping instructions?"
That woman really should be a general.
And, 'that woman' was on the high ground of the hill, giving orders with Louis d'Aquitaine, the Magic Corps, and a few messengers.
"Over there! A machine gun nest!"
Louis followed the direction Giselle Davi pointed with his eyes, focused his mind, and soon lightning struck from the sky, hitting the machine gunners who were just setting up and preparing to fire.
On a battlefield swarming with nearly a million Drones and demons, the enemy was preparing to set up machine guns by surprise whenever they found even a little high ground.
A moment's delay would lead to the disaster of the Allied Forces, resisting the Drones in their dense formations, being wiped out in one fell swoop.
Louis let out a small sigh of relief and turned his head—
"This way! Eliminate it!"
—and saw Giselle Davi had already found another one and was giving instructions to another mage.
Louis let out a hollow laugh and turned his gaze back to the battlefield.
A clash of one million against one million.
The battlefield, a scene of pandemonium and chaos too vast to be called merely 'huge', dizzily disorders the field of vision.
Yet, on this massive battlefield, amidst all that chaos.
"Relay to Commander Millbeau! The attack is concentrated on the 24th Regiment, tell them to reinforce! Ah, there! Machine gun!"
"Yes, yes, sir!"
Not only was she not swept away by the waves of chaos and read the war situation accurately, but she also meticulously observed the enemy's movements every moment, unfailingly finding targets to snipe with magic.
Should it be called genius talent, or monstrous concentration?
Still.
"Enemy magic, incoming!"
As soon as the warning was heard, Louis, along with the other mages, raised his hands to the sky and focused his mind.
A barrier of mana soon unfurled, and the fireballs launched by the mages of the demonic faction crashed against it, scattering and dispersing in mid-air.
"Whew, well done."
Seeing Giselle Davi sigh in relief, Louis also smiled faintly.
Certainly, he was being of benefit.
For now, that was enough for Louis.
But in the next moment.
"Hah!"
"Th-that's—!"
Seeing the giant wave of aura, covered in violet magic, rushing toward them, Louis swallowed dryly.
The qualitative and quantitative gap in the composition felt from that overwhelming mana instilled a sense of helplessness in the mages.
This was a calamity beyond what mere humans could ever hope to match, a disaster they couldn't help but realize could never be blocked by mana, no matter how much they wished otherwise.
Nevertheless, they did not despair.
Because a flash of light soon covered the entire battlefield, and a golden barrier was erected.
Louis watched in admiration the mysterious light that, despite being bright enough to blind, was somehow easy on the eyes—
and was filled with hope as he watched the overwhelming violet death, which seemed impossible for a human to block, crash against it and crumble along with the barrier.
We can win.
Even while facing the demons with their tidal wave-like momentum, everyone on this battlefield shared that hope.
*
Baal was furious.
Three times already. He had been blocked three times.
The overwhelming martial prowess and mana he had built up over the long years of his life.
None of it was something mere humans could ever approach.
And yet, the fact that his sword attacks, containing his very essence, were being continuously blocked meant.
It was the same as God being with them.
That enraged Baal.
Why?
400 years ago, in the war that drove Francia to the crisis of destruction.
The humans of the Central Continent had joined forces to fight back, but they were insufficient to push back the demons, and even under an incompetent and greedy Demon King, they were more than enough to face all of humanity.
Even when more regions than ever were ruled by the demon races in the hundred-year war, even when countless humans had met their death, God remained silent.
At that moment, the being closest to God's miracle was the half-human, half-demon succubus, Gremory.
Baal, who was already preparing to rebel against the Demon King at the time, thought it was God's will to end the war.
Then why now? Why was He blocking his path now?
Baal gnashed his teeth and raised his gaze, looking at the blue sphere slowly descending from the sky.
A Great Demon of Baal's stature could understand the structure of that magic just by looking at it.
That was a horrible magic that would literally twist and corrupt the very mana structure of demons, changing them into an inferior element that could no longer be called a demon race.
It was, in short, the very destruction of the demon races.
Even a demon race could not manifest such grand magic with a single power.
But those inferior humans, beings who were born with mana inherently more poor than the demon races.
By resorting to all sorts of tricks, they had managed to manifest a grand magic that surpassed even the magic of the demon races.
God was protecting them, and humans had manifested a magic to surpass the demon races.
Baal was angry at the absurdity of it, at himself for feeling threatened by them.
"What will you do, oh, Demon King?"
Baal grit his teeth at Paimon's question from beside him.
Despite his noble pride, the reality was that he could not win by simply standing here loftily and sending out sword attacks.
Baal gripped the swords on his back with both hands—
and drew the symbol of the Demonic Hero.
"I will strike them down myself."
This was their land.
He was the pride of the Demon Race itself.
Therefore, the option to retreat from this place never existed.
"Follow me."
As he commanded, holding the two swords that had cut down the entire Demon King's Guard and finally the Demon King himself, the demons prostrating themselves like shadows behind him immediately rose.
"Since they desire a Final Holy War, we shall grant it."
Overwhelming destruction to them all.