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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Simzy
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Unfortunately, the bow and arrow were weapons without copyright.
If you had ancestors who lived closely with beasts, that weapon, which you were bound to use, soon came flying to block our advancing steps.
[Whoosh-! Whoosh whoosh! Ting! Thwack thwack! Thwack!]
But I, who had already accumulated a considerable amount of battle experience through several battlefields, had doubled the size of the shields to be used in this expedition. As long as the armor technology had not yet risen to a satisfactory level, this was a wise judgment.
[Thud! Patter! Thud thud!]
“Keep advancing! Do not break the formation!”
“Match your steps! Hold the line!”
“Forward! Forward!”
Storolf and the lieutenants shouted for advance until their throats were raw, and normally we would have had to stop for a moment and take the enemy’s arrows, but thanks to the changed training and equipment, we continued to close the distance with the enemy without any particular hindrance.
[Swoosh! Swish swish swoosh-! Swish swoosh!]
‘Isn’t the trajectory too low?’
From the sound of it, our own army’s fire followed, seeming to pass right over our heads, and the arrows, which received a much stronger tension from a much larger bow and flew powerfully, flew unerringly toward their targets.
The enemy’s ranks, collapsing here and there with a thudding sound.
If it were the old me, I would have charged in right away, but just as my warriors had become more elite and organized, my command had also developed one step further.
“Prepare to attack!”
“Prepare to attack-! Take out your hand-axes!”
“Prepare to throw!”
There would be no problem at all if I broke through alone, but what I had felt, especially while fighting in the civil war of the Eastern Roman Empire, was that unexpected losses occurred from my warriors trying to catch up with my charge that had shot out ahead.
So my conclusion was, in a confrontation of infantry versus infantry, to first cut down the enemy’s ranks one more time.
[Whoosh-! Whoosh-! Ting! Thwack!]
[Thump! Thud!]
I broke the arrow that had flown to my shield with the guard of my greatsword, and as I powerfully lifted my sword, the column that had been walking heavily began to approach a little faster, at the speed of a trot.
[Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!]
The rhythmic steps became a rhythm and a flow, and not only we, who had entrusted our bodies to it, but also the forces of Edmund who were blocking our path, now had no way to escape.
“Warriors! Let us fight without fear! Glory awaits us-!”
[Swoosh-! Swish swoosh! Thud! Thwack thwack!]
Once more, the arrows that had flown from behind our heads shook the enemy’s ranks, and now that we were within a distance where we could identify each other’s eyes, noses, and mouths, we had no choice but to reach a conclusion.
Kicking the ground powerfully, as if spurring a horse’s belly, I smoothly let go of the hand holding the greatsword and drew the hand-axe from my waist and threw it.
[Whoosh- whir whir whir!]
The hand-axe, thrown only with the snap of the wrist, rotated fiercely, and in that gap, the moment I grabbed the hilt of the greatsword again, the enemy who had been glaring at me fiercely from right in front of me collapsed with a dull sound, his head crushed.
[Thud! Whoosh! Whoosh- whir whir! Thud! Thwack thwack! Thwack!]
“Gack!”
“Ugh!”
“Aaaaargh!”
The reason a hand-axe is scarier than an arrow is that its center of gravity is entirely focused on the blade, so if you block it carelessly, whether it’s a shield or armor, it will shatter it all.
In front of the high-quality consumables that the craftsmen of Aros had diligently prepared during the past winter, the enemy’s front line was greatly shaken once again, and by the time our column, with me at the head, crashed into them, they had already begun to flee.
[Whooosh- shhlick! Slice!]
“Keuk! Grrk… gack..”
The masterpiece of the master blacksmith, Reginn, danced smoothly in my hand, and everything that came within its huge sword strike was split fairly.
Even though I had never eaten it in this life, it felt just like cutting a pure white piece of tofu with the side of my hand.
Even though this was the first real battle, the sensation, as if my arm had gotten longer, was strange.
“Geuk.. grk…”
[Whoosh-! Thud!]
“Keuk… …”
I had cut down three with one slash, but one of them was spouting bloody foam from a thin cut on his neck, so I quickly ended his breath.
The blade that had pierced his chest passed through the man’s bones as if they were a joke and shattered the enemy’s heart.
A performance that should be called destructive.
I made a mental note to give Reginn another reward, and looked at the enemies who had all turned their backs and were running away after a single slash.
“Yaaaaaaah-!”
[Thud! Thump! Clang! Shhlick!]
The sound of clashes and the sound of blades scattering chainmail from here and there.
Certainly, in front of our military power, which had qualitatively improved in every aspect since the last time I had come to Britain, the enemies, who looked to be about equal in number, could not come to their senses.
A sight that was dumbfounding even to my warriors, whose bodies were now a little heated up.
“They are weaklings! Konungr Helgi!”
Storolf, who would mercilessly slander those who were hostile to me, shouted with a deeply flushed face.
Since it had ended before they could even let out a battle cry like ‘Valhalla-! Hel-!’, it seemed he was a little disappointed.
However, this campaign had only just begun.
“They were not their main force. Carelessness is not permitted. Occupy this hill and wait for Refil’s rear guard.”
“Yes! Konungr!”
The sight of Storolf, who moved quickly with a flustered expression at my stern appearance, was like that of a bear. A bear with golden fur, very nimble for its size.
Next, the archers who had joined the infantry… although I called them archers, they were closer to multi-purpose infantry, and they also lent a hand in cleaning up the battlefield.
Since we had not been able to prepare much due to crossing the sea in a hurry, it was unfortunate, but for those who were severely wounded, ending their lives would be a mercy.
Those who could be saved on their own were gathered and classified as prisoners, and after checking our own wounded and dead, there were no losses except for five with minor injuries from enemy arrows.
‘The kill ratio is a bit strange, isn’t it? I wish every battle was like this.’
Bjorn, who was once again sitting in the seat of the acting Konungr, would send supplies and troops as soon as the traffic of the mainland jarls was sorted out, and then we would be able to move more actively.
And I had my trump card too.
Of the consumed hand-axes, the usable ones were gathered again, and the ones with broken handles or bent iron were gathered in a corner.
The warriors took turns resting or taking the time to clean up the battlefield while maintaining a state of alert in case of an enemy counterattack.
Just a little further like this, and we would be at Beodericsworth.
By now, Edmund must have known that his detached force had been shattered, and Guthrum and Sigtryggr of Beodericsworth must have known as well.
‘What will you do, Edmund. Will you see this through here? Or will you retreat?’
I had already made my move, so the next turn was Edmund’s.
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“We cannot withdraw the troops.”
“That is the Cyning’s thought. The warriors of Mercia did not come here to die.”
On a hill a little away from Beodericsworth.
A disagreement was occurring between Edmund and the Mercian general.
“How dare you…!”
“Hunta, calm down.”
“…”
In a place that dealt with life and death, the battlefield, it was possible for spirited men to have different opinions… but was not the Cyning in this very place? The rightful ruler of East Anglia.
Just look at the insolent attitude of that Mercian general, speaking so bluntly in front of such a noble person…! From the perspective of Edmund’s loyal retainer, Hunta, it was something he could not bear.
However, unlike his subordinate’s anger, Edmund was facing reality. Without the power of Mercia, victory could not be achieved.
“Then what is your plan? Ealdorman Cœnred.”
Cœnred, a powerful figure from the west, which could be called the backyard of the current king, Burgred, when Mercia was divided into east and west. The strongest card Burgred could play, in the midst of the unrest of all the lords of eastern Mercia, which would become the main stage of the future war with those mighty Northmen.
The warriors he had led were 5,000. Behind them was Burgred’s main army of another 10,000. Edmund knew well that even that was with some reserve strength left, but it was not something he could say, asking why he was not using his full strength.
Because the forces from the northern marshlands that Edmund had brought were barely 2,000.
“Although we have burned their fields all the way to Beodericsworth-”
‘My fields… my people… my kingdom…!’
“-After trying a siege, I could see that they had not retreated to the castle because they were weak. It was not a castle that would fall in a day or two. It seems we were not the only ones who had prepared for war during the past winter.”
“Huuuhm-.”
He stroked his beard out of frustration, but that did not mean a solution that had not been seen would pop out from somewhere. Edmund’s mind became more and more complicated.
‘The information was not wrong. It was a certain fact that those cursed sons of Ragnar had all left their posts. But if there was a problem, it was that their response was too fast…’
How could this be? When he had first broken through Sigtryggr’s defense and rushed in, glory had been right in front of him, but now, in the face of their inexplicably swift response, he could no longer even be sure of victory.
“But it is too early to be disappointed. First of all, since the troops that were blocking the southern road have been defeated, we cannot face the enemy from both sides. We will withdraw the camp until the exact number of the new army that has come up from the south is identified.”
Although it was a map drawn with crude details, Cœnred’s finger moved along a line that was sufficient for everyone present to understand, and the hand that had moved steadily to the left from Beodericsworth finally stopped at the part where a small hill was drawn, on the left of the River Granta.
“Grantebrycge, next to the River Granta. A place where an old castle is located. The bastards will have to cross a bridge to cross this place, so we will have to wait for Cyning Burgred there.”
“Grantebrycge…”
The old castle of the former Middle Anglia. A fortress that all the people of that area called the ‘Ruin Castle.’
‘If it’s that place, we can certainly stop the enemy, but…’
That meant that once again, Edmund had to retreat from his rightful territory.
However, all a powerless king could do was to accept reality.
“I understand… that seems to be the best way. Let us do so.”
Cœnred, who had bowed his head to Edmund, who had not lost his pride and had maintained the dignity of a Cyning until the end, hurriedly headed out of the tent, and the eyes of Hunta, who was looking at his bowed master and the rude Mercian Ealdorman, sank frighteningly.
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“Konungr Helgi!”
The enemies had retreated.
When operating an army, the most difficult thing when the number exceeds a thousand is advancing and retreating. Going forward and backward.
Looking at it from that point of view, at the very least, the abilities of Edmund and the unknown commander who must have been next to him were by no means to be trifled with.
“Guthrum! No, should I call you Jarl Guthrum now?”
Guthrum, the competent adjutant who had been with me on my first expedition with Ivar. This warrior, who had risen to the rank of jarl after his deeds were recognized in the awarding of merits and he received the vacant eastern coastal land of East Anglia as his fief, greeted me with a bright smile.
“What does my title and name matter! Call me as the Konungr wishes! Welcome! Those pesky bastards have finally retreated!”
“Konungr Helgi, thank you for saving us. Beodericsworth is yours.”
Unlike Guthrum, who was so excited he looked like he might dance, Sigtryggr’s complexion did not show a single trace of being flustered.
“Jarl Sigtryggr. I’m glad I wasn’t too late. If you hadn’t moved quickly, we would have had to face a more difficult situation. I will give a reward that is not lacking to you two and the warriors who have worked hard.”
“I only did what I naturally should have.”
“Ooh! Thank you!”
The sight of Guthrum, who was openly happy next to the modest Sigtryggr, was funny in contrast. That was the Northman style.
“Uh-. I also only did what I naturally should have, Konungr Helgi! It was not something I did hoping for a reward!”
When I had first seen him, he had been a calm adjutant, but now it felt like I was looking at a slightly less tense Strolf. It was probably because the excitement of the battle he had just fought remained.
“Haha. Do not worry, I am not a man who makes empty promises. You must be tired, but the war has just begun. I have a task to entrust to you two, can you do it?”
No matter how well we had prepared, in the end, whether it was a siege or a defense, it was not something a person should do.
It felt like I was doing a terrible thing to the two who must not have been able to sleep well, but since I could not control the enemy’s intentions, it would be right to make our preparations perfect.
“Of course, Konungr Helgi. My body is just now warming up.”
“Just give the command.”
The faces that had been smiling broadly, in an instant, focused all their mind and attention on my voice. A sight like that of trained hunting dogs.
“Good. Sigtryggr will sort out the current situation of East Anglia with Leif and report to me, and Guthrum must establish a plan to securely protect the road connecting this place, Sutton Hoo, and Rendlesham. Strolf, you will divide the warriors under your command and operate a guard patrol and a scout patrol.”
“I understand.”
“Yes! Konungr!”
“Just leave it to me!”
My, they’re full of energy.
“Then let us move right away. I will repair the collapsed parts of the castle and look at the state of the citizens. Leon will go with me.”
[Thud!]
My vassals, who gave a military salute all at once and quickly scattered. Following them down the castle walls where traces of battle remained here and there, the next moves of us and the enemy repeatedly appeared and disappeared in my mind.
‘The enemy’s forces are smaller than expected. The main force must be in the rear. Did they retreat because they wanted a big battle? Or are they planning to block us and wage a guerrilla war?’
Whatever the case, since the paths out of East Anglia to Mercia were limited, in the end, there was only one place we would face each other.
The old Roman road I had ridden up when I had struck Aella of Northumbria before. The strategic point that blocked the River Granta in the middle of that route.
‘Grantebrycge.’
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