New chapter of May Our Village be Happy is out (1/2 chapters)

 

 

Decisive End

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“……” (Raymond)

Raymond, overcome with a sense of restless unease, watched the tide of battle unfold before his eyes.

At the front, the conscript soldiers fought desperately, struggling to break through the wooden palisade. Further behind, it appeared that Sergei was locked in combat with the enemy commander, a wielder of magic, for logs and stones flew violently through the air in a spectacular display.

The conscript soldiers of the main force had suffered such mounting casualties that their momentum had been entirely spent. The detachment that had attempted a flanking maneuver had been struck down by an enemy detachment that appeared suddenly, a group comprised largely of women and children hurling stones and was nearly annihilated before the charge could be completed. In the end, it seemed that only Sergei had managed to breach the enemy’s formation.

To have committed over 100 soldiers and brought about such disgrace. What a pitiful spectacle. Never had Raymond imagined that the battle would prove so arduous.

Yet despite their struggle, it was not so simple a matter to issue a command for retreat. Before his clan, his retainers, and the in-laws from whom he had borrowed men, he had proclaimed with certainty that their expedition would bring them a resounding victory. To return having suffered grievous losses and without even achieving triumph was unthinkable.

Thus, though he watched the battle in mounting frustration, soon after, the fierce clash between sorcerers at the rear of the enemy line vanished from sight.

At last, had Sergei slain the enemy mage?

Just as Raymond allowed himself a breath of relief–…

“What is that…” (Raymond)

From behind the enemy lines, one severed head and one headless corpse rose into the air. There could be no doubt that both were the remains of the trump card of the House of Howells.

“Are you telling me Sergei was defeated? That he has been slain?” (Raymond)

“…My lord, if I may speak frankly.” (Knight)

Raymond, struck with horrified disbelief, was addressed by the knight at his side.

“If Lord Sergei has fallen in battle, and our flanking attack has failed utterly, then for the main force, already suffering great losses, it will be nigh impossible to breach the enemy’s line of defense. I grieve deeply to counsel such, but it would be best to order a withdrawal at once and return to the lands of the Howells. These conscripts are a precious source of labor for our society at home. We cannot afford to squander them needlessly.” (Knight)

Hearing this counsel from his closest confidant, the very knight who, before the battle began, had borne the message of surrender to the enemy, Raymond fell into contemplation.

The casualties had already grown too numerous, and above all, the irreplaceable strength that was Sergei had been lost. Even the criminals he had sent toward the manor, disposable pawns whose success would have been a welcome fortune, had apparently failed, for they never appeared.

The time for consideration was short. In this situation, Raymond had no choice but to acknowledge that his confidant’s words were correct.

“Order a full retreat. Send word to the encampment at the rear as well. We shall withdraw to the northern side of the hills before the day is out.” (Raymond)

“As you command.” (Knight)

The confidant immediately relayed Raymond’s command, and the withdrawal began. One of the guards surrounding Raymond blew the retreat signal upon a whistle, while a knight mounted his horse and rode as messenger to the encampment atop the hill.

 

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“The enemy flees! Victory is ours!” (Mika)

When Mika proclaimed it in a ringing voice, the common folk raised their fists high in jubilant answer.

“Mika-sama, shall we pursue them?” (Marcel)

“…No. Our people too are exhausted, and I do not wish to risk some counterattack should we chase them. Let them flee as they will. They are unlikely to mount another assault in any case.” (Mika)

While lowering the corpse of the enemy physical magic-user, Mika gave this reply to Marcel’s inquiry. Marcel nodded and conveyed the command of the lord to all.

Though Mika had dearly wished, if possible, to slay the enemy commander Raymond, accomplishing such a feat on this occasion was far too difficult. Despite suffering heavy losses, the majority of the enemy yet remained unscathed, and their main camp still held many knights and regular soldiers. To break through them all and strike down Raymond, who would surely retreat on horseback, was no realistic prospect. Hence Mika restrained his desire and merely watched the enemy army’s retreat.

The aftermath of battle then began. By Marcel’s direction, tending to their wounded allies was treated as the utmost priority. Jeremy ran to the lord’s manor to convey news of their victory, summon further hands to aid in the work, and gather supplies for treatment.

“…Somehow, we prevailed. How frightening it was.” (Mika)

After confirming these proceedings, Mika murmured softly. Only Dimitri, standing beside him, caught the subdued words.

“It was my own inadequacy that brought peril upon you, Mika-sama. I am ashamed.” (Dimitri)

“That is not true at all. From the beginning, I intended to defeat the enemy mage myself. You held down the enemy conscripts and guarded my back firmly. Moreover, when the mage showed an opening, you acted with quick wit and created the moment I needed. That was an achievement most worthy of praise.” (Mika)

To his attendant, whose expression bore regret, Mika offered words with a gentle smile.

While Mika fought against the enemy physical magic-user, Dimitri had commanded the commoners holding the flank and battled the enemy detachment of conscripts. He swiftly struck down those before him and came to Mika’s aid as Mika began to struggle. In the end, through an unorthodox maneuver, he bought Mika the precious seconds required to draw his crossbow and take aim.

In slaying the enemy mage, the trump card of Lord Howellz, Dimitri had played a role of utmost importance. Alongside Marcel, he could rightly be called one of the architects of victory.

“In truth, the one lacking was me. I underestimated the enemy. Because of that, I nearly brought us to defeat. I must ensure such folly never occurs again.” (Mika)

The enemy mage had wielded the physical magic most common among the magical arts. Though empowered with mana, it was still but a mortal body. Mika had assumed that the brute force of telekinetic magic would surely prevail, and so had thought of nothing but striking with flying logs.

The consequence was what had nearly come to pass. He had never imagined that a seasoned knight, wielding the gift of physical magic, could become so formidable. Mika had trusted too much in the might of his own telekinetic magic.

Psychokinesis magic was neither omnipotent nor invincible. He had known that truth. Magicians would always be formidable adversaries. That, too, was an obvious truth. With painful clarity, Mika resolved never again to forget these two realities and to etch them into his heart. Soon after, Bianca and other women from the manor arrived to tend to the wounded, and the tally of casualties was completed.

“At present, there are no dead. Five are gravely wounded. Of these, two are in critical condition. One has lost an arm, the other has been pierced in the abdomen by a spear.” (Marcel)

“…I see. At least no lives have yet been lost.” (Mika)

Upon hearing Marcel’s report, Mika spoke.

The main force had fought but clumsily with crude weapons across the palisade. Furthermore, many of the enemy conscripts, shaken by the initial barrage of stones and logs, had fought without spirit. For this reason, and by fortune as well, no lives had yet been lost on their side. Mika gave thanks to the gods.

“For the two in critical state, use the magic potion stored at the manor.” (Mika)

“…Are you certain? Those are of considerable value.” (Marcel)

“It does not matter. The equipment stripped from the fallen enemy knights and soldiers can be sold to cover the cost of potions. As lord, I must say that the loss of precious people of our domain must be avoided. And as for myself personally, I cannot abide letting lives slip away when every one of us seems likely to survive this battle.” (Mika)

At Mika’s words, Marcel smiled gently and nodded.

“Understood. I shall send someone at once to fetch the magic potion.” (Marcel)

With that, Marcel departed, and thanks to the swift labors of the people, tending the wounded and clearing the field proceeded steadily.

In the end, the army of the Howellz Household suffered 21 casualties, including one knight and two regular soldiers. The majority of these perished from thrown stones or hurled logs, while fewer than 10 fell in close combat, even counting those who attempted to infiltrate the manor. Nearly 30 more were grievously injured, such that nearly half the force was either slain or severely wounded. Since Lord Raymond had delayed too long in ordering a retreat, the losses had been magnified.

By contrast, the forces of Valentine territory suffered no casualties and five severely wounded. By weakening the enemy early with ranged assault and afterward fighting across the fences while supported by psychokinesis magic and skilled stone-throwers, they achieved victory with minimal sacrifice.

 

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