Chapter 435: Out of the Smoke

On the way back, Barosi and Herto, who had come along as my attendants, burned with fighting spirit at the thought of Handendorf, the Lightning Knight, who had attended the count. They’d recognized his strength.

"Is this Handendorf the strongest knight in Basel?"

"Not just in Basel. He’s among the finest in the duchy."

And he was a righteous knight, willing to take up his sword gladly to save his men. It was a waste that a knight like that served under the Count of Basel. My generous assessment sparked a keen interest in Barosi.

"If the chance comes, I would like to face him myself."

"Ambition is fine, but don’t lose sight of our real objective."

Before long the sun climbed to its peak. The soldiers ate a solid lunch, formed up, and took up their weapons. The weather was far too bright and warm. It was a day better suited to an outing than a battle.

Before the fighting, the army chaplains gathered the soldiers to pray and read scripture, steadying their hearts. I watched quietly for a while, then closed my eyes.

The first thing that came to mind was Hilda.

To protect my family, it was my turn to find courage.

They say that in ancient Greece, when an eagle soared high overhead, people believed Zeus was watching. How trivial the petty squabbles of men must look, reflected in that eagle’s eye.

"Units, advance!"

"Move as you trained!"

The idea came from the tercio, but my men took my surname and called it Streit tactics. The concept was still unfamiliar, but wouldn’t it spread far and wide as time went on?

By then the world would know the name Streit. Maybe it would end up as a common noun for gunners rather than the name of a noble house, the way the Earl of Sandwich gave his name to the sandwich.

Ahead of us stood a giant hedgehog.

It seemed to move as though it were a single living creature.

That was the dense pike formation unique to the Swiss mercenaries, reckoned the strongest in the world. They were armed with that seamless wall of pikes, the combination of halberds and two-handed swordsmen, and an iron will that never yielded.

It was only natural that the pikemen’s morale plunged once word got out that they’d be facing Swiss mercenaries. Our side had a dense pike formation too, but its purpose was to protect the gunners, so it was nothing like that monstrous wall.

When pike meets pike, it turns into a contest between formations. Fighting that contest against the Swiss with our comparatively thin pike line would be hard. Anyone would think so.

Even so, I was betting on victory in this battle.

However outmatched our pikemen were, they could buy the gunners enough time to reload.

"My lord, the enemy cavalry has moved to the front."

"Hmm, he brought heavy cavalry."

To break through a pike formation, the heavy cavalry had brought far longer lances. Some fifty of them lined up front and center. Facing them head-on would be the gunners, not the pikemen.

"Shall we ride out and pin them down?"

"No. Trust the warriors of Streit."

The Streit gunners showed no fear at the appearance of that fearsome heavy cavalry. They’d drilled over and over until they could stand a cavalry charge bearing down right under their noses. The Gale Knights had helped a great deal with that.

In the beginning they used to wet themselves, but they’d seen so many charges by now that not a flicker of alarm showed. It was crude and simple, but it was the product of drilling by rote until it stuck.

And thanks to the effect of the 200% training, they’d gotten over it in a short time. My Streit gunners now stood armed with a will as strong as that of any elite troops.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!

The weighty charge of the heavy cavalry made a tremendous show of power. Only fifty riders, yet enough destructive force to shake the earth. The Streit gunners stood squarely in front of them.

Take aim!

The gunners took careful aim at the charging cavalry on command, steady as could be. It was a nerve-racking moment. However much they’d trained, a real cavalry charge was terrifying on an entirely different level.

Feuer!

Feuer!

Bang-bang-bang!

Heavy cavalry are an elite force built around nobles, or commoners with comparable wealth. They were the symbol of the medieval battlefield, and it’s no exaggeration to say they decided the outcome of battles.

But in this moment, the volley fired by the first rank sent those bravely charging riders toppling from their saddles in droves. Clad in plate armor, they still met a meaningless end at the hands of bullets fired by nameless farmers.

With the vanguard broken, the fallen bodies and horses fouled the charge of the riders behind. Some tripped over the corpses, so the momentum naturally bled away and their speed dropped.

Feuer!

Bang-bang-bang-bang!

Fire spat from the muzzles of the second rank. The thick fog of powder smoke blinded enemy and friend alike. The surviving riders pushed through the haze and charged anyway.

Without a single casualty, the gunners slipped behind the pikemen and began reloading. Loading while kneeling was impossible, so most stood, steadying their ragged breathing and concentrating on not making a mistake.

Crunch! Crash!

Aaargh!

Neeeigh!

Meanwhile the pikemen stopped the charge of the surviving heavy cavalry. Our pikemen took losses of their own, their pikes snapping against the steel plates that protected the chests of the warhorses.

"Damn it, get him down!"

"Aaargh! My hand! My hand!"

The handful of surviving riders had no chance of breaking the Streit pike wall. Horses and corpses blocked their movement, so they came to a full stop, with nothing to do but fend off the pikes jabbing at them from all sides.

Having taken heavy losses, they finally pulled back.

I was proud of the gunners for holding against heavy cavalry.

"Sir Debrecen, take the horse archers and harass the enemy flank."

"At your command! Horse archers, prepare!"

The Count of Basel had only a handful of riders left, so the timing for pressuring his flank was perfect. For scattering the enemy’s attention and relentlessly worrying the flank, horse archers were the ideal arm.

Barosi, who had been watching our own flank like a hawk, reported to me.

"My lord, a small body of cavalry is moving toward our flank!"

"Hmm, so Handendorf is moving. Well, the heavy cavalry got smashed in one stroke. The count must have been shocked."

"Let me go out and face them! Allow me to show the might of the Magyars!"

I could see the fighting spirit blazing in Barosi’s eyes. The Lightning Knight was a formidable opponent, but the greater mistake would be failing to trust a subordinate who was showing that kind of drive.

The moment permission came, Barosi shot off like the wind.

How was the Count of Basel, moving with the Swiss mercenaries, reading the battle? If his goal was the destruction of Vintenheim, he might not care much who won here.

This noble battle was bait to hold my attention on this side. I trusted Viktor and Beort to keep Vintenheim safe, and all I had to do was my own job.

Across a field still thick with powder smoke, the Swiss mercenaries, who had long reigned as objects of terror, advanced right up to the Streit gunners. That flawless pike formation and iron discipline were the pride of the Swiss.

Even with our horse archers harrying their flank, they paid them no mind.

As pike met pike and the lines tangled, our pikemen began to give ground. Then enemy halberdiers hooked our pikes and dragged them aside, opening gaps in parts of the formation.

Crossbowmen hidden among the mercenaries began shooting at our pikemen and gunners. Some of our men went down with bolts in them and the line shook badly, but our pikemen clung on doggedly.

Seizing the opening, the two-handed swordsmen, the most seasoned veterans of the Swiss mercenaries, readied themselves to push in. They were the bravest and finest warriors Switzerland had, the best paid and the most honored.

But they never got the chance to plunge boldly into our lines. Before that, they became targets for the gunners, who had finished loading and were waiting. Even as the pike line shook, the gunners had concentrated on nothing but their reloads.

Feuer!

Bang-bang-bang!

Aaargh!

Gaah!

The finest warriors went down spraying blood, and when the second rank fired its volley right after, the Swiss formation shook violently. Even the enemy crossbowmen who’d been tormenting our men fell helplessly.

Yet the Swiss mercenaries didn’t so much as blink. Reserves waiting calmly at the rear filled the gaps and the formation held. We would have to endure again until the gunners finished loading.

It must have felt like an eternity to our men.

But the Swiss had troubles of their own.

"Damn it! I can’t see a thing around me!"

"Fill the gaps! Hold the line!"

Because of the powder smoke, they were experiencing a battlefield wrapped in fog for the first time in their lives. And since I could tell friend from foe through the Commander Scouter, that gave me my opening for a surprise attack.

Crash! Crunch!

"Wh-what is that?! Aaargh!"

"Enemy cavalry! Agh!"

Crunch! Crunch!

My halberd tasted blood for the first time in a long while.