Here’s the chapter, enjoy~
Chapter 35 – Where’s The Bullet?
I was mistaken at first.
I didn’t know much about warfare against cavalry, and I hadn’t thought about how to deal with it. So I thought that a horse fence was a barricade to prevent horses from charging.
“I wasn’t completely wrong, though.”
Before the war began, old man Heimann, a dwarf who was assigned to be a gunner at the machine gun position, was fixing barbed wire to logs to build a position and telling me about its effective placement.
“Cavalry soldiers have eyesight more than ten times that of a normal human, and if they were to charge at us, even a spear or a war hammer, not to mention a sword or a bow, would not be able to deal with them. Therefore, it is true that the objective is to prevent them from rushing forward.”
However, he added, referring to the number of logs he had prepared and the size of the plains.
“Stopping the rushing cavalry completely is impossible and pointless. Unless they’re foolish, they won’t come at you knowing that you can stop them. So, by showing them gaps and rough spots, you can make them think that they have broken through the enemy lines of their own volition and lead them on. Yes, for example…”
Machine guns, in the space for annihilation.
“My name is Kirk Weistl of the First Kingsguard Cavalry! Now is the time to show the barbarians the courage of the Weistl family…!”
The first one that jumped out at us was a strong knight holding a cavalry spear horizontally and flipping a crimson cloak over his shining silver armor.
He was a nobleman of some sort, who had declared his affiliation and family name and declared himself the best spearman, and as he raised an exuberant yell, drunk with the intent to kill, his whole body was ripped apart by bullets.
As the horse’s body collapsed in a spray of blood, the rest of the horse was caught up and fell one after another.
A few of the horses that tried to break through the side were also blown to the side by bullets that came from another direction. I wondered if some of the bullets with different damage at the time of impact were hunting warheads. I can’t see them from my eyes because they are too far away.
Without knowing what had happened, hundreds of cavalrymen fell, their consciousness cut off from their lives. Piles and piles of dead horses and soldiers blocked the way for the rest of them, obscuring their vision. The hesitation stops them in their tracks, kills their momentum, and kills them themselves.
It was not a battle. It was just a slaughter.
The group of light infantry that had rushed in, keeping their bodies low and using the corpses of the cavalry as shields, could not escape being overrun by gunfire. Their blood and flesh were trampled down by the horseshoes of the desperately struggling cavalrymen and mixed with the mud.
No one could escape. No one can.
The soldiers are blocked behind by their own troops, who continue to rush forward, and they throw themselves in front of the bullets as if they were being pushed out, and then they sink into the puddle of blood as dead bodies like a stream of work.
An inaudible pleading cry of “help” or “forgive me.” A high-pitched chain of voices echoed in the air, but they were drowned out by gunfire and screams of rage, making them indistinct.
I am looking down from a height of more than 100 meters at the dozens or hundreds of strong soldiers being slaughtered without a care in the world. In the big picture, it’s like an anachronistic pachinko machine. The silvery grains rush toward the entrance of the canyon, bouncing here and there, making a big circle, but they get stuck in front of the big prize slot. The red and silver-colored grains are accumulating near the bottom of the machine.
The hellish scene was quite comical to witness, but it turned out to be quite monotonous from a distance. This tragedy is still going on. Somewhere in the back of my mind, and then I let out a sigh. I can’t run away, and I can’t look away.
This is the result of what I’ve started.
The next thing I know, Myrril is standing next to me, looking down at the disaster with a blank expression on her face. Both she and I are saving our ammunition for the second half of the battle, as our guns are short on range. The time we have on our hands reminds me of unnecessary emotion.
“So this is what hunting is all about, huh?”
Myrril murmured quietly.
“Wrong. It’s a mistake, a big mistake.”
Myrril then returned to her mortar observation support. I agree with her. I absolutely agreed, but I didn’t want to accept it.
“Yeah, you’re right. …I never thought this would happen either.”
No, that’s a lie. I knew it. I understood it clearly. And it’s going to be so much worse.
I look at the sunspots floating in the sky in the direction of the royal capital. They were getting bigger and bigger. More than a dozen in total. Or maybe more. This is the real deal I’ve been waiting for.
The winged dragon.
Chapter 36 – Exploding Dragon Scales
“Whoaa! What’s with this height? Whoa, it’s fast! Stop shaking it, hey! It’d be a disaster if we fell down like this!”
The sage’s voice, as he was being shaken around on the hastily installed backseat, was laughed off with enthusiasm by the captain of the magic dragon cavalry, Yell Meinermann.
“It’s okay! Sage-sama is surprisingly thin-hearted, isn’t he! Winged dragons are flying on magic power instead of aerodynamics! As long as it doesn’t take a direct hit from large-scale attack magic, the winged dragon will not fall!”
“But hey, they have bows and arrows, too. It will be a target when flying, isn’t it? Is that okay?”
“No problem. No arrows can reach this altitude, and the winged dragons have strong dragon scales and the impenetrable magic barrier!”
This time, Yell left the troop commander’s role to his second-in-command, Meifel, and guarded the sage at the very back.
It’s a shame that he can’t take the lead, but in the first place, dragging out the dragon cavalry, the strongest force in the kingdom’s army, to clean up the remnants of the savages is out of the ordinary.
Now they are simply a bunch of losers with no strong walls, no powerful weapons, no friends to work with, and no wise leaders. It is the predecessors of the magic dragon cavalry who made them the losers. Yell is proud to be a part of that lineage.
Yell stifled the sigh that had almost escaped his mouth. Is this person who is trembling in the back seat also a summoned person? The distrust is not only for the hero with his suspicious eyes but also for the saint who always hangs around with the knights. However, this sage is particularly timid, lazy, complacent, and fragile in body and mind.
In addition, he doesn’t seem to be very smart either.
To put it simply, he is not just a force to be reckoned with but a complete liability to the kingdom’s army. He seems to have a good amount of magic power, but he has no way to make use of it, nor does he have any intention of studying it. Although he had been told early on when the war would start and told of his assigned role, he had not yet mastered any powerful offensive magic.
The result is like this; Yell thought to himself as he tightened his grip on the reins.
Well, no matter. The summoned individuals are merely the toys of the king.
“We will be breaking in!”
They’re just above enemy territory, one mile high. The winged dragon was flying at full speed in the sky, where arrows and magic could not reach. When the dragon cavalryman in the lead gave the signal, the winged dragon folded its huge wings, tilted its head, and began to plummet.
The war would end quickly and easily. All the soldiers in the kingdom army thought so.
The remnants of the subhumans numbered less than 100 against the 30,000 elite soldiers. A touch of armor and sleeves. Triumphs and awards. This was simply an act of showing off to the neighboring countries and to the people from the occupied territories who had the seeds of civil war.
It was supposed to be.
Strong dragon scales that a bow and arrow cannot damage. Radiant flames with long attack power and effective range. Overwhelming rushing power. Above all, its existence itself was the most powerful weapon that made those who saw it tremble. Even though it was considered a medium-sized dragon species, it was an absolute powerhouse that reigned in the sky in the natural world. Just by the intimidation of its roar, ordinary creatures are deprived of their ability to fight.
A mere hundred or so subhumans, with an army of ten thousand in front of them, and if the rats come out, all the better, they will cut them down with a single swing of the sword. However, if they are planning to stay in their caves and play foolish games, they should be forced to lower their heads with simultaneous attacks from the mages, and when they are frozen and trembling, they should be subjected to punishment from above.
But that didn’t happen.
The winged dragon in the lead, which had been screaming in response to the dive attack, was blown away, as was the commander, Meifel.
The two following dragons were also shot in the wings and neck and fell flat on their backs. From the slightest trajectory, it appears to be a small piece of metal, which becomes countless shards of metal and flings the dragon cavalry away.
“Ridiculous; what about the magic barrier!”
Yell almost shouted, but then he realized. Yell noticed that the pale blue light vanished from the bodies of his subordinates who were falling down. It is a sign that the magic has been lifted because the magician is also dead. In other words…
“…A weapon that can penetrate the dragon scale as well as the magic barrier?”
On the ramparts of Casemaian, the giant elven man, Kemich, was in command.
On his shoulder was a long Simonov PTRS anti-tank rifle. He and the other six elven shooters around him with BAR light machine guns have spare ammunition on their hips, as much as they can carry without hindering their actions. Kemich desperately suppressed his impatience as he waited for the winged dragon to strike. The seven elven warriors now waited impatiently, their hearts pounding like males on the verge of maturity.
The winged dragon, once a symbol of fear and despair, is about to attack.
As the Casemaian Liberation Army chief, it was a given that Kemich would be on the front lines. The question was, where would it be? Where would be the most dangerous front line?
The heavy machine gun, the tiger cub, had to be handed over to the dwarves who were skilled in handling metal and operating machinery. The next step was to find a role that would allow them to fully exercise their abilities as a forest-dweller with a longbow, excellent eyesight, and stealthy movements.
And they got it. Now, this place, this time.
“My firing is the signal to open fire! Get behind cover and prepare for bursts of flame!”
“Aim for the first winged dragon, then shoot from there to the rear!”
They all understood what it was. They have confirmed over and over again, envisioned over and over again, and repeated over and over again. And yet, they still reaffirm it. The same actions, the exact words, the same quieting of the mind. To unify their minds.
“Not yet; let them get closer!”
The power of the BAR, which uses 7.62×63mm rounds, and Simonov, which uses 14.5×114mm rounds, has a different order of magnitude, but the effective range itself is not that different.
It was a quarter of a mile before the shooting reached its maximum effectiveness. This is a very close range for an elf’s arm, trained with a longbow, and for the eyes of an elf at one with nature. With wind magic, even air resistance can be manipulated at will. It is impossible to miss.
“Now, let’s get started!”
The 14.5 x 114 mm bullets that Kemich released with a shout definitely caught the winged dragon at the front and blew away its small head despite its huge body.
The dragon’s scales, which bounce off steel swords, its skull, which bounces off war hammers, its agility, which dodges longbow arrowheads, and even its magical barrier, which nullifies elven magic, are all rendered ineffective, and all are brought into contempt.
The monster that ruled the sky is turned into a mere piece of meat, dragon knight and all.
At the same time as Simonov’s gunshot rang out, the thirty-ought-six (7.62×63mm rounds) from the six BARs neutralized the following winged dragons one after another.
The two dragons that were in vertical descent, the four dragons that were circling behind them in preparation for their descent, and the six dragons that had sensed the danger and were about to enter an evacuation maneuver were all blown out of their heads with a single shot, or collectively reduced to a beehive.
Everything they see is just a target. It didn’t matter if they were out of effective range or not.
Because Yoshua had said so, if you just want to reach it, it can reach more than half a mile. The elves’ minds understood this. They could defeat an enemy that was more than half a mile away. It wasn’t just the power of the elven longbow that humans feared. It is the precise aim, blessed by the wind.
Direct or curved, as long as the arrowhead can reach the target, the elves can kill it.
“Damn, only the one at the far end and the two guards got away!”
“I think they guessed right, though. It’s close to the limit of our bullets’ range. They didn’t get close enough for us to take them down.”
Two dragon cavalries had given up on the attack early on and were trying to escape, and they didn’t seem like they were going to join the fray. Their magic barriers were thicker and more elaborate than the others. Are they military observers or viceroy officers? In any case, they have escaped, but it will not end with them running away.
They may come at any time. There’s always time to kill them.
“…Well done, boys!”
The steel firearms Yoshua brought were a true nightmare. For the kingdom’s army, as well as for the subhumans, everything that has been built up and defended up to now is denied once and for all.
But still, Kemich smiled. The elves under his command also laughed out loud.
Since the day they lost their country, friends, family, and pride, they had never laughed from the heart. The thought that they had wished for so much, so strongly, so sadly, and so disappointed, was burning in their hearts.
“We can reach them now.”
“Yes. We won’t lose anyone again.”
“This time, I will definitely protect Casemaian and the others.”
Yeah. The seven of them here have not forgotten a single moment of what happened.
They are long-lived elves, and a quarter of a century is as vivid a memory as if it were yesterday.
That was the time when the kingdom’s army invaded. They couldn’t protect their friends, families, or compatriots; they couldn’t even care for their dying comrades; they mourned everything and lived through it.
As warriors, they have survived with a stigma on their backs as if they were dead…
It was for this moment.
No words were needed. They all felt it clearly. Everyone shared the same feeling, completely and clearly.
Just now, they could finally feel it. A sense of reality. A response. The feeling that they had been rewarded.
“We have lived for this moment!”
…What the hell is this.
I left the mortar seat to Myrril and ran to the ramparts to check on the elves, who had quieted down.
On the ground, the crushed dragon… winged dragon, or the super huge remains of it, is lying here and there. There were also some bodies that looked like knights in armor, but all of the winged dragons and knights had had their heads blown off (probably by bullets), and their limbs were bent and crumpled from the impact of falling to the ground.
“Kemich! Are you alright!”
The castle walls were scorched by the radiant flames of the winged dragon, and the wyvern that rammed into it was stuck in it. As I teleported to the top of the castle walls, I was greeted by the elves with a big smile on their faces.
“Kuhahaha… Oh, Yoshua. How are you doing?”
“Huh? Hey, that’s not important right now. Are you okay”
“Fuhahaha… I’m fine, of course. I’ve never been this fine in my entire life.”
“Mufufufu… this BAR is a wonderful thing. It’s really a wonderful thing, you know?”
“Kukuku… Oh, yes. Strangely enough, I now have crazy love for Simonov. I don’t need money, alcohol, or women when I have this guy; that’s how much I love it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Me too. Me too.”
Hey, what’s with these people? What’s going on?
They were all bloody and dirty, with scrapes and cuts and shredded hair and skin, and one of the elves had a leg bent in a weird way, so why do they look so happy?
These guys are the type of people whose facial muscles don’t usually work at all, let alone smile!
However, the elves… even Kemich, who had been spreading animalistic intimidation and murderous intent, were all laughing heartily and happily.
Dangerous, did these guys hit their heads?