Kurz received the report of the night raid at two in the morning.
"De-Deputy Commander. We have a major situation."
"Right. From the way you came sprinting over with your uniform all askew, it must be something."
Kurz spoke in his usual crooked manner when he wasn't around his aristocratic superior. This was the real Kurz Schleiermacher.
When he had to deal with the noble officer, he obediently spouted empty pleasantries, but among his own men, he carried himself like the neighborhood uncle. That was the nature of a fortress garrison — after more than a decade of living and fighting together side by side, you couldn't just be a soldier.
The noncommissioned officer felt wronged. It was true he'd received the report from the messenger and come running in a panic without properly fixing his uniform. But if we're talking about looking disheveled, wasn't Kurz even worse? He was sitting with both feet propped up on his desk. He was chewing on jerky with his mouth wide open. It was as if he were deliberately testing how poor a posture a human being could possibly adopt.
That said, he did have a deeply furrowed brow as he looked over documents — apparently handling military administration. He had the candle lit despite the late hour. The NCO wasn't sure whether to call his superior diligent or negligent as he delivered his report.
"The enemy is attacking. Signal fires have gone up at the Blue Fortress."
"A night raid!"
Kurz shot to his feet. As if the lounging figure from moments ago had never existed, he straightened up in an instant. He buttoned his disheveled uniform and strapped on his chain mail. As he busily armed himself, Kurz was already calculating why the enemy had launched a night attack.
"Wake up every last one of our people. The ones in the Yellow Fortress too."
"Understood."
"Tell them there's no need to strike camp. This is a race against time! Move quickly!"
The garrison responded with impressive speed. Even though a sorty order had come in the middle of the night, they were lined up and ready in under five minutes. It wasn't solely because they were elite soldiers. Kurz had warned the NCOs in advance that a night raid was possible. The last one to finish preparing turned out to be none other than the aristocratic officer.
"Adjutant Schleiermacher! What on earth is all this commotion in the dead of night?"
"A night raid, Your Excellency. The Demon Lord's forces are planning to storm and seize the Blue Fortress with lightning speed before we can link up."
"W-What did you say! This is a disaster!"
The noble officer's eyes flew wide open. There was sleep crust in the corners. Under normal circumstances, Kurz would have pointed it out right away, but there was no time for that now. Kurz spoke clearly and deliberately, making sure both the officer and the soldiers lined up around them could hear every word.
"There is absolutely nothing to worry about. The enemy has realized that we intend to leave the fortress and pick them apart one by one. That's why they're attacking the Blue Fortress — to strike before we can deal them a blow. The enemy is getting desperate!"
From the crowd ablaze with fighting spirit, Kurz's voice rang out clear and strong. His words were measured, brimming with confidence. Woven into their content was enough logic to persuade any listener. The soldiers listened with bated breath, engraving into their hearts why they had to fight, why this battle was worth giving their lives for.
"Our plan has not changed one bit. The enemy has two divisions, and by now they should be pressing the Blue Fortress. One of those divisions is right in front of us, beyond that darkness — showing us their backsides. And we're going to kick their asses!"
The soldiers laughed. They looked relaxed. They knew full well the strength of the monster army they would be facing — roughly five hundred, including no fewer than five Ogres. And yet they laughed. Even knowing that a single one of these monsters could cause war-scale devastation in a minor territory, they had the nerve to joke.
Kurz felt a fresh surge of pride in the Imperial Army.
*Politics can be a mess at any time. But we are the ones who protect the Empire from external threats. If that's the case, governments can always change from within. Our valiant fight will lead to the Empire's brilliant future — and beyond that, to humanity's future!*
He shouted.
"Tonight, we deploy without breaking camp. The key to this battle is speed — strike fast, finish fast. The Blue Fortress is holding off the enemy's diversionary force. While they do, we crush them. We won't even pack rations for the march. We annihilate the monsters and resupply at the Blue Fortress — that's our only option!"
The noble officer felt Kurz's resolve too.
"…Adjutant Schleiermacher."
"There is no second chance at this battle! If we succeed, we annihilate the enemy. If we fail, we all die here. The archers will strike the monsters' eyes with pinpoint accuracy. The spearmen will not allow a single breach in the formation. We will win! Sir! Give the order to advance!"
The noble officer nodded. The flustered look of a man startled awake in the dead of night faded from his face, replaced by aristocratic composure. So — he hadn't forgotten what his role was on the big stage after all. Kurz smiled. The fool before him was a fool, but he was a decent enough fool.
The noble officer bellowed.
"Advance! Sieg Kaiser Habsburg!"
The soldiers roared.
"Sieg Kaiser Habsburg!"
"Sieg Habsburg—!"
Long live His Majesty the Emperor! Long live Habsburg! The entire army shouted as one. Without anyone giving the cue, they broke into the traditional garrison song. Just as they had trained for ten years, the soldiers fell into formation and marched at a swift pace. The darkness posed no hindrance to the march at all. This was the Black Mountains — their domain, their front yard. Better to die here than to lose!
"Adjutant Schleiermacher… what if the Blue Fortress falls before we arrive…"
Kurz quickly glanced around. No one besides himself had heard what the noble officer just said. The NCOs were busy dispatching scouts and aligning the formation. Kurz sighed inwardly with relief. You fool! What were you thinking, whispering something so cowardly as a commander?
Puppet commander or not, a commander was still a commander. If even a hint of the command's lack of confidence in victory spread among the soldiers, it would be disastrous. Even with defeat staring them in the face, the command had to stand firm. Fortunately, the noble officer had lowered his voice when he spoke… *He's not entirely without a clue*, Kurz thought.
"That cannot be. We dispatched scouts regularly to monitor enemy movements. Just an hour ago, we confirmed that the monster units were still at their encampments. That means they've been on the move for this feint for at most one hour. In one hour, they wouldn't have reached the Blue Fortress yet."
Kurz was meticulous. As long as the Demon Lord's staff officer wasn't an imbecile, he would have grasped what their advance in separate groups signified. What options did the enemy have?
Only two. Either retreat in a blitz, or launch a surprise assault on the Blue Fortress before they could move to pick off the stragglers. …The enemy had not retreated. Despite having suffered a strategic defeat, they had decided to fight to the bitter end.
Kurz sneered. War was about winning before the fighting even began. The opposition had already lost, yet they were trying to claw back through tactical superiority. In a word, they were throwing a tantrum. Had the presence of five Ogres made them overconfident? Either way, they were fools.
He did, however, acknowledge one thing. War was unpredictable, and a strategic defeat could be overturned by a tactical victory. But that was nothing more than gambling. Not ordinary gambling, either—a supremely selfish gamble where soldiers' lives were used as betting chips.
That was the level the Demon Lord's army operated at. They treated monsters not as subordinates but as disposable wagers. Win and it's a bonus, lose and so be it. That was likely how they saw it. Kurz was certain that the forces of the Habsburg Empire would never lose to the likes of them. It wasn't a matter of strength. They were simply a different class of army.
"Have faith in us, my lord. The garrison at the Blue Fortress is elite, just as we are. They can hold against the enemy's wave assault for at least six hours."
"Six hours. Six hours, you say."
The noble officer murmured, convincing himself. Kurz was satisfied. This was the noble officer's first large-scale battle. It was only natural that he felt anxious. But when the moment came to show composure as the commander leading twenty-five hundred soldiers, he had played his part. That was all that mattered. Nobody—not Kurz, not anyone else—expected tactical brilliance from the greenhorn.
"A monster unit spotted to the front!"
A scout reported. It had been just under two hours since they had begun their march.
"The monster unit is assaulting the Blue Fortress!"
Kurz clenched his fist. The fortress was still holding! The obvious could always collapse on a battlefield—that was the nature of war. With that, the last unstable variable had been eliminated.
"Confirmed with the naked eye?"
"The visibility is too dark to confirm visually. But war cries and the sounds of clashing weapons were unmistakable."
*Good.* Kurz issued orders to the entire force. The noble officer merely gave formal approval to Kurz's command. The man now leading twenty-five hundred Imperial soldiers was Kurz Schleiermacher, born of common stock. The senior officers from each fortress gathered to deliberate.
"Shouldn't we launch a raid?"
"The monsters' night vision is better than ours. They'd spot us before we arrive."
"We could at least cause confusion for the Demon Lord leading the monsters. If we deny them time to think…"
"We could light signal fires to let the fortress know we've arrived."
Whether red or yellow, the aristocratic commanders kept their mouths shut. The deputy commanders and non-commissioned officers who had defended the Black Mountains with their blood and sweat for decades spoke up instead. Kurz, the de facto supreme commander, addressed them.
"The enemy numbers five hundred. While our two wings press the flanks, the center will cleave through the enemy's battle line in a single stroke. Cut them in two. Then the wings surge forward and annihilate each half."
"The center's breakthrough power is the key. Who will take the center?"
"I will lead the mounted battalion through the center. As you can see, what matters more here than elegant command is the sheer fighting spirit of officers and soldiers alike. Once we've annihilated the enemy, we'll rejoin the Azure Fortress."
That was the entire plan. The Azure Fortress was already serving as the anvil. If they became the hammer and struck with enough force, the enemy would have no choice but to crumble.
"Attack!"
The commanders spurred their horses to the vanguard. In night combat, officers needed to be at the front lines — controlling troops in darkness was far harder than in daylight. With their officers leading the charge, the soldiers' morale soared and they surged forward. Before long, the soldiers were screaming war cries as they charged. The element of surprise might be somewhat diminished, but their fighting power would only increase.
"Sir General! Let me take command! Please fall back to the rear!"
"I'm an imperial soldier too! I can't leave everything to my adjutant! I may not look it, but I'm a fourth-rank warrior! I can take care of myself!"
The aristocratic superior officer shouted as he spurred his horse forward. Kurz laughed out loud. Not just a passable fool, but a brave one at that! Not bad at all. This was a superior who had been posted to the fortress through political connections, but at the very least he was no coward, and for that Kurz gave him a passing grade.
In an instant, the gap between them and the monster unit closed. Despite the darkness, the enemy was visible. Perhaps having sensed their approach, orc shield-bearers had already formed ranks.
The thrill of the battlefield engulfed Kurz in an instant. His eyes blazed with fire. Fools! Did they truly think that would stop the imperial charge? As if sensing its master's fury, the warhorse planted its front hooves with even greater power. Kurz raised his lance and roared.
"Tear them apaaaaaart!"
The soldiers howled like a wolf pack. Two hundred cavalry crashed headlong into the orc shield-bearers. But even well-trained shield-bearers were no match for a cavalry charge. When Kurz trampled an orc flat beneath its shield, he felt his primal nature explode through his entire body. It was the savagery of war. Bestial roars erupted from his mouth again and again.
Kurz imbued his lance with Aura. Then he plunged into the second line of orc shield-bearers who were forming ranks to halt the cavalry charge. The Aura-wreathed steel lance split a shield in two and cleaved the orc's chest apart. The warhorse stamped over the falling monster's corpse. In a heartbeat, the shield-bearers' formation shattered. Through that gap, the remaining cavalry poured in like a tsunami. Kurz realized he had single-handedly broken through the enemy's battle line.
"Kuhaahahaha!"
Kurz the commander vanished, and Kurz the third-rank imperial warrior appeared on the battlefield. Every swing of his steel lance sent orc limbs flying into the night sky. There was no need to even bother with the goblins — the warhorse crushed their chests on its own.
Ogre — where was the ogre?! Kurz instinctively searched for a worthy opponent. Either because of the darkness limiting his vision or for some other reason, no ogre was in sight. That meant the wings, not the center, would have to deal with the ogre. No problem — their numerical superiority was overwhelming. Sure enough, the two wings, each eleven hundred strong, were pouncing on the bisected monster units like wild beasts.
Kurz sensed instinctively that the battle was won. The Demon Lord's army had tried to take the fortress in a swift strike, but that plan had collapsed. Instead, their five-hundred-strong force was about to be shattered without mercy. All that remained on the Demon Lord's side were five hundred monsters laying siege on the far side of the Azure Fortress — and not a single high-ranking monster like an ogre among them. It was over! There was no force anywhere that could stop the imperial army's twenty-five hundred.
Just as Kurz was about to join the surrounding cavalry in mopping up the remaining monsters, the aristocratic superior officer rode up to him, shouting. The sword in his hand was drenched in blood. For the first time, Kurz felt a genuine fondness for his superior. Nothing forged bonds of brotherhood like rolling through the battlefield together.
"Kuh-hah-hah, the Commander is quite something indeed!"
"Adjutant! Something's off! Were these things really attacking the fortress!?"
What was he talking about? Kurz frowned. The fleeting fondness he'd felt just moments ago evaporated. He cut down another orc and shouted back.
"There are ladders on the wall, aren't there? Of course they were!"
"But there isn't a single monster conducting a siege anywhere near the walls!"
"They must have pulled back when they realized we were approaching from the rear! Damn it!"
Kurz cursed without thinking. He figured he was doing well just for not screaming "idiot" outright. Unlike usual, he was numb with battlefield excitement. Any thought of maintaining proper courtesy toward his superior had long since been blown away.
"But look! There are no friendlies on the walls either! If they knew we were coming, the least they'd do is cheer to welcome us!"
"Friendlies?"
Kurz looked toward the wall. He couldn't make it out clearly. But the sparse torches flickering along the ramparts showed no one there. No, there were far too few torches in the first place. This was a siege happening in the dead of night. They should have lit as many torches as possible... Kurz's brow furrowed deeper. He couldn't understand it. The rookie superior was right—for morale's sake alone, they should have been cheering for them... Why? Why was there no response at all?
Monster roars erupted from every direction in the distance. Kurz was startled. It wasn't the roar a few hundred monsters could produce! At least a thousand! A thousand were roaring all at once!
"Adjutant!"
The aristocratic superior stared at Kurz with a ghost-white face. Kurz felt his spine tingle from tip to base. He didn't know what was happening. But one thing was certain—Kurz's instincts were screaming bloody murder. This place was about to become hell!
"Sir! It's a trap! We've walked right into a trap! We need to retreat immediately!"
That was when the fortress gate, which had shown not a single response, swung open. Kurz whipped his head around. He saw a force pouring out from within. They weren't human. They were monsters.