Chapter 9: First Battle (3)
The company commander listened to my words, then chuckled with an impressed tone and said,
“I understand that, as a student platoon leader, this being your first battle, you are keen to give it your all. Even so, aren’t you being overly zealous? It’s just the first day; take it easy.”
Although he expressed a slight complaint with those words, his reaction could be considered quite positive.
Having just fought at the forefront with the soldiers, the company commander, despite his own exhaustion, was willing to entertain the idea of a novice like me.
No, more precisely, he was willing to listen to a makeshift platoon leader like me who hadn’t even formally graduated from the academy.
“If the Company Commander permits it, during the next rotation, I’d like the Yaeger platoon, symbolizing the student platoons, to stand at the center of the attack, holding our flag. If we can show dominant combat during the collision with the enemy, just as we did in the previous attack, I’d request support by mobilizing the whole company.”
When a novice platoon leader, comparable to a senior-year intern in a corporate context, makes such a proposal to the company commander, unless it was a situation where he’d have to face political pressure from a noble family for slighting their heir, one would expect him to be rebuffed.
“What do you know? Is war a game to you? Do you think you have two lives?”
Accompanied by some crisp cursing and a poor performance review.
But what if those words came from someone who, despite this being his debut, didn’t cower in fear or rashly break ranks and led from the front with superior results compared to other platoons?
It would be deemed worth considering.
“... Ha, you really have a knack for volunteering for hard tasks. If any other student platoon leader had said that, unless your father was a count or something, I would’ve scolded you and rejected the idea. However, you’ve shown merit up to now, so I’ll hear you out.”
Feeling quite pleased that things were proceeding as anticipated, I continued,
“From our recent skirmish, I felt that the enemy troops were weaker compared to our company. And their battalion leader, having lost three mages and several soldiers in today’s initial combat, will be grinding his teeth.”
“Indeed, they might.”
“If they find out that the core unit of the company that dealt them significant damage is the student platoon, with less than half the regular strength, they might underestimate us. Thinking it’s their chance, they could aggressively attack, and we could counter-attack. Even if they don’t fall for our provocation, as you saw in our recent combat, our platoon has the capability to stand and fight on par with any other platoon. We promise to show our worth when placed at the forefront.”
Without waiting for the company commander’s response, I added one more thing,
“The Division Commander, right now, is eager to showcase to the Crown Prince that he’s nurtured fledglings into outstanding officers. If reports reach him that my platoon, under your command, fought at the core of the company, it would likely assist you in future personnel evaluations and promotions.”
After hearing all this, the company commander nodded in agreement, seemingly convinced.
“Understood. Then, in 15 minutes, position your unit at the center and follow the plan as suggested. Tell the standard bearer to change your unit’s flag to the student’s banner.”
“It’s an honor that you trust me.”
“I really want to rest properly for the remaining 15 minutes, so quickly finish your tasks and take even a minute’s break if you can.”
15 minutes later, I took my place at the center of the first line, where the fiercest fight was unfolding within the Yaeger unit.
After switching positions with the 1st company fighting in front, our unit began to move slowly towards the enemy.
It seemed as if the enemy’s battalion commander noticed that our newly arrived unit wasn’t holding a regular banner but a student’s banner.
He then signaled his battalion to charge by raising a blue flag, and he shouted in a booming voice, loud enough to be heard over the din of the battlefield from about ten meters away.
“Unlike the company we just fought with, there’s a unit led by a greenhorn student over there! These fools have brought mere students to face the great Francois Republican army! They are just chicks. Let’s teach them the terror of the Francois Republican armies. Wipe them all out!”
In response, the enemy’s officers and soldiers also began to shout threats, like dogs barking, before tearing into their prey.
“Damn Empire scum! Sending even students to the frontlines shows they’re at their wit’s end! If they haven’t already admitted defeat, then what is it? Let’s cut their throats to spare them from the hardships of life!”
“The soldiers who can take that bastard’s head will be promoted by one rank! For the Republic, charge!”
“Newbies, shine brightly in your armors!”
As the distance between the two sides dwindled and the tips of our spears were about to clash, I used the spear technique I learned at the academy and swiftly knocked the opposing soldier’s spear aside.
His spear tilted to the right, revealing his face, which was filled with the horror of impending death.
If our regiment seized this moment and charged with full force, we could annihilate Valliere’s regiment.
So now, it’s the time to gamble with only success in mind.
“Signal bearer, immediately raise and lower the charge flag twice and request full-speed support! The enemy regiment is trying to reform their ranks, but a broken formation doesn’t mend quickly!”
At my words, the vice platoon leader, Sergeant Schmitz, and the other platoon members momentarily looked horrified, but they all quickly prepared to charge with all their might.
Normally, one wouldn’t dare charge at full speed at the enemy infantry.
But a scattered unit was vulnerable to even a minor assault.
About 10, no, 20 seconds later, signals from the battalion commander and other friendly battalions came in, approving the strategy.
Gripping my spear tightly, I targeted the disoriented enemy regiment commander and yelled, “Charge!” and “Follow me!” as I dashed forward with all my might.
Following me, an entire battalion formed a solid line and rushed towards the heart of the Francois Republic’s Valliere Regiment with overwhelming force. The enemy, still organizing and not expecting our assault, began to panic.
Valliere’s regiment commander was shouting amidst the paralyzed soldiers, trying to form a line and charge back.
“Formation! Create a formation as quickly as possible! Otherwise, not only I but all of you will die!”
However, the hundreds of soldiers, lacking even the basics of moving in unison due to their training, couldn’t meet his expectations.
They merely staggered and collided with each other, failing to form any effective line.
This sight seemed pitiable, but what could be done?
Ordinarily, a troop that hadn’t learned to move as a group would naturally be incapacitated in critical situations.
Having such thoughts, I placed my over 4-meter-long spear on the ground and drew the sword that was hanging at my waist.
The distance between me and him shortened: 5 meters, 3 meters. I could see the terror dawning on the enemy regiment commander’s face, surprised at how quickly he was cornered by a mere student platoon leader.
In such a situation, Valliere swung his sword at my neck and shouted,
“How dare a low-ranking officer like you challenge me, a regiment commander? Insolence!”
Whether one died at the hands of a noble or a mere commoner, death was still death. Why was he making such a fuss about it?
“When you die, everyone goes to Deus’s side just the same. You sure talk a lot! Republican men are as chatty as women!”
Instead of swinging my sword in response, I slightly sidestepped, using the momentum to kick him full force in the face with my iron-booted foot.
I felt the sensation of crushing human bones and muscles through my metal greave.
His body crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from his broken face and neck, drawing his last breath instantly.
I cut off his head with the sword in my hand, raised it high with my left hand, and shouted,
“Peter Yaeger has killed Raphael de Valliere, the regiment commander of the Valliere Regiment! Clear the way and surrender if you don’t want to die!”
It would have been great to continue the war with this momentum.
However, immediately after, the sun set, and retreat signals echoed from both armies’ headquarters.
I felt significant regret during the retreat.
Glancing back during the withdrawal, the corpses of the Francois Republican soldiers littered the ground, and my soldiers were covered in their blood.
From the scene before my eyes, it seemed that, with our platoon as the core, we had succeeded in annihilating the Valliere Regiment.
There was a saying that if you ate too much from the beginning, your stomach would burst. So, for now, I should be content with this.
However, next time, I’d achieve even greater accomplishments and climb higher.L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
