Chapter Sixty-Six: The Sudden Advance

At dawn the next day, the Thirteenth Corps set out as expected. General Adrick personally led the First Banner Regiment on the march. The silver-haired man, Butler, who had previously led the vanguard in a show of force, had already sent back a report: in the northern part of the Albacte Plain, there had been two small skirmishes with the Odin forces, each involving around a hundred men. Each side had claimed one victory.

The location of these battles had shifted several dozen miles south from the small grove where Shaya and his companions had previously encountered a scouting party ambush. Clearly, the Odin army was advancing steadily southward, extending its reach deep into the heart of the Albacte Plain.

As a member of the Guards, Shaya donned his full cavalry gear and departed with the main force. The only disappointment was that he did not receive the legendary “cavalry equipment” Cato had once described: the four-meter-long lances, the enormous shields that reached up to a man’s chest, or even barding for the horses.

Instead, he was issued the same standard light cavalry kit as before: a double-edged sword for fighting on foot, a footman’s shield, and a long weapon for mounted combat—which he once again chose to be a halberd.

On the march, he confided his doubts to his comrades, and his confusion was quickly addressed. It was the former strongman of the Guards, Sharba, who explained—though, since losing a wrestling match to Shaya, he was now second strongest. The burly giant laughed heartily. “Cato misled you. The gear he spoke of belongs to our heavy cavalry: full suits of armor, four-meter lances, those massive shields, and horses in armor too. Just imagine how heavy all that is. Ordinary soldiers can’t possibly bear it. Only elite warriors, carefully selected, can fight in such gear; the likes of Cato would be crushed flat under their own armor!”

He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Besides, think of how much iron it takes to equip even one such knight! And the horses need to be the best, bred for strength and endurance. In the Thirteenth Corps, we have only a single banner of such heavy cavalry—the Fourth Banner. If you want to be one, you’d best ask the General for a transfer when you get the chance.”

Shaya was at ease after that—such a heavily armored unit could not possibly be deployed en masse, and he realized his earlier expectations had been naive.

Strictly speaking, the First Banner Regiment, where Shaya served, was not truly cavalry at all. The First Banner was, in fact, a mounted infantry unit—meaning they were classified as infantry but used horses for rapid movement, dismounting to form infantry lines in battle.

After all, while cavalry was powerful, it could not operate alone in large-scale engagements and required the support of infantry. Generally, cavalry rarely faced infantry head-on in open field battles—except in surprise attacks. The sight of thousands of horsemen charging directly into enemy infantry lines was exceptionally rare. The real strength of cavalry lay in using them on the flanks to envelop and penetrate, carving through the enemy like peeling layers from a potato.

Thus, the Thirteenth Cavalry Corps, though designated as cavalry, included infantry units. To preserve mobility, these infantry were upgraded to mounted infantry, able to move rapidly but still dismount to fight. In siege battles, pure cavalry was of little use; infantry were indispensable.

The First Banner had set out to rendezvous with the vanguard Third Banner, which had gone north some days earlier.

As he marched with the Guards, Shaya listened to his companions discuss the Thirteenth Corps’ combat methods. Though they might not be seasoned experts, their proximity to the General meant they often overheard military councils and dispatches, giving them broader knowledge than the average soldier.

※※※

On the first day, Shaya experienced for the first time what it was like to march with a force of over a thousand men. He’d heard tales of legendary armies of tens of thousands, but even this two-thousand-strong banner stretched in a dark, unbroken line across the plain. The Thirteenth Cavalry Corps was renowned for its strict discipline—marching in neat columns, silent and solemn, exuding a sense of imminent violence that filled Shaya with awe.

This was only a single banner. What would it be like if an entire corps—or several—were gathered together? The thought stirred his imagination.

That night, the column did not halt. The soldiers of the Thirteenth Corps were used to such marches, eating, drinking, and even snatching moments of rest in the saddle. They rode on until dawn the next day, when General Adrick finally gave the order for a brief halt.

The Guards were a special case—the only true cavalry within this mounted infantry force. Each man had a spare horse. Shaya happened to be on rotation, assigned to the General’s side, along with Kevin and a dozen other Guards, escorting Adrick.

The General wore the same black leather cloak as when Shaya had first seen him, his brows knit in a deep frown, eyes glinting with a cold, leonine ferocity.

“Rookie.”

Just as Shaya was covertly observing Adrick, the General turned and gave him a brief smile.

“Er?” Shaya immediately straightened up.

“A major battle is about to begin. Are you nervous?” Adrick’s lips curled in an odd smile.

The other Guards looked at Shaya, curious that the General would single him out for a question.

Shaya thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not especially.”

“Oh?” Adrick seemed pleased. “Why is that?”

“Killing a beast or killing a man, either way it’s killing. If they want to kill us, we kill them. There’s no real difference,” Shaya replied without hesitation.

“Ha! An interesting view.” Adrick regarded Shaya for a moment, then shook his head. “You’re a promising lad—remind me of someone I once knew, though you’re not as formidable as he was. Do your best. You’re skilled. If you distinguish yourself in this campaign, I’ll see that you’re promoted to troop leader when we return.”

The nearby Guards looked on with envy. Adrick glanced at the bald man beside him. “And you, Kevin—if you come back alive, you’ll command a company.”

Kevin let out a rough, excited roar, his face flushed, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight.

Adrick, apparently in good spirits, waved his hand to end the rest period and was about to mount when his expression suddenly changed. He looked up at the sky.

There, between blue sky and white clouds, a gray shadow circled with outstretched wings. It looked like an eagle, but smaller than average, and its circling flight was oddly unnatural. After several loops directly above the First Banner, it twisted and fluttered in the air.

Adrick’s face darkened instantly. Kevin squinted, then blurted, “General, that’s an Odin—”

“Yes, a scout eagle.” A sharp glint flashed in Adrick’s eyes. “With a scout eagle here, the Odin army must be close.” He turned abruptly to an officer. “How long since Butler’s last report?”

“The last messenger returned at dusk yesterday. No word since,” the officer replied.

Adrick’s face grew grim. “Map!”

His adjutant immediately produced a map. Adrick studied it for a moment, then pointed at a location. “How far is this from us?”

He indicated a long, narrow stretch of land, slightly sunken in the middle of the plain, flanked by woods on both sides and a hollow at its center.

“Not far at all,” Shaya answered without hesitation. “I know that place. If we ride at full speed, we can be there in two hours at most!”

“You’re sure?” Adrick fixed Shaya with a piercing gaze that made his eyes shine with terrifying intensity. Meeting that look, Shaya braced himself and replied, “I’m certain! I’ve been there twice. I know the area well.”

“Something’s happened!” A dangerous light flickered in Adrick’s eyes. “The Odin scout eagle is watching us. Butler’s group must be in trouble—otherwise the eagle wouldn’t be scouting this far south, and we haven’t had any messengers from Butler all night.”

After a moment’s thought, he looked at his deputies, then fixed on the bald man. “Kevin!”

“Yes, sir!” Kevin straightened, bursting with excitement as if electrified.

“I’m putting all the Guards under your command, plus the Third Banner’s recon squad—two hundred cavalry in all. Take them and break off at full speed to the north! Butler must be in trouble. Your job is to support him. You’ll meet resistance on the way—you know what to do!”

Kevin raised his mace and roared, “Tear them apart!”

“Idiot!” Adrick snapped. “Don’t get bogged down—break through any opposition and get to Butler. Support and extract his force. I’ll follow with the main body.”

He paused, then glanced at Shaya. “Shaya knows the terrain. Let this rookie lead the way.”

He looked up at the eagle circling above, suddenly irritated. Reaching back, he grabbed a bow from a nearby soldier’s saddle, drew an arrow, and aimed at the sky.

Twang!

The bowstring sang as the arrow shot upward in a gray streak, but it was an ordinary army bow; even at full draw, the arrow lost momentum well short of the eagle’s shadow and fell earthward. Adrick, furious, drew again, this time harder, but with a sharp crack the bow snapped in his hands.

“Damn it!” he roared. “If only Via were here—” He glared at Kevin. “Why are you standing there? Carry out your orders!”

Kevin barked in reply, then dashed off, gathering the Guards and all available scouts, quickly forming a squad of about three hundred cavalry. “No spare horses! No rations! Ditch anything unnecessary! Move out now!”

The Thirteenth’s elite training showed: within moments, three hundred riders were ready, Kevin easily arranging them in wedge formation before leading them off at a gallop.

Shaya and Kevin rode at the front, Shaya guiding the way. After about half an hour’s hard ride, the terrain ahead became hilly, with a sparse wood on a high ground to the left. Shaya called out, “We’re close! Past that high ground, keep going straight!”

No sooner had he spoken than a troop emerged from the woods atop the hill. Each man was clad in leather armor, tall and burly, with wild hair, brandishing axes or greatswords and carrying round shields. There were about a hundred of them, charging out to meet the cavalry head-on.

They were mounted, not on horses, but on strange beasts—about the size of horses, but even more robust, with black-striped coats and long antlers.

Shaya stared in surprise, but Kevin shouted in alarm, “Odin reindeer cavalry! Ride them down!”

The two forces crashed together with a thunderous clamor.

At the very front, Shaya and Kevin plunged into the Odin line. Unfortunately, Shaya’s horsemanship was still lacking; a huge reindeer slammed into his horse, sending its head lurching aside, and Shaya was thrown heavily from his saddle.