-BOOM—!!
The cannon roared loudly as it recoiled. The densely packed infantry scattered in an instant. Some were crushed into pulp. Many more—those who directly witnessed the scene—fell into panic and began to flee.
"Hold the line!!"
-BANG—!!
An officer in the rear fired his pistol. The head of a terrified soldier exploded, and the infantry gritted their teeth as they held their positions.
To those who aren't Transcendents, gunpowder weapons are like the grim reaper. More terrifying than a knight's charge or a monster's attack.
Unlike other causes of death on the battlefield, death by gunpowder weapons comes without process. When the sound of cannon or gunfire rings out, the soldier standing right beside you scatters into fragments.
Just 30 centimeters. This short distance between shoulders. That small gap saved lives. Had they been standing in the adjacent row, they would have been the ones to die. Here, individual ability was meaningless. This was death that couldn't be countered.
Against a cavalry charge, one could roll away and, with luck, avoid the hooves and have a chance to survive. Even in battles against monsters, there were numerous survivors who had fallen but lived, buried under the bodies of their comrades.
But firearms offered no way to respond. Because there was no process. Because you couldn't tell where they were coming from or which direction they were targeting. On the chaotic battlefield, from an infantryman's perspective, it was death itself—impossible to resist.
However.
-Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—!!
"Cavalry!! Cavalry charging!!"
"Spears up!!"
From a knight's perspective, firearms pose no threat. Most of the countless lines of fire that hit their bodies are blocked by armor, and they've been trained to block even the fatal trajectories.
The same goes for cannons. For the cavalry of this era, who can precisely identify where cannonballs will land, artillery isn't a god of the battlefield but merely a sacrifice for the cavalry.
-Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—!!
The cavalry charge continues. Lances held high, banners fluttering, horses spurred on, whistles and shouts ringing out.
The noise of hooves striking the earth, the impact from the recoil, the narrowing field of vision from battle excitement and concentration, the blind fury—all of this breaks through the battlefield.
-Wheeeeee—!!
At the sound of falling cannonballs, the wedge-shaped cavalry formation scatters in unison. A well-trained cavalry evasion maneuver. Like bees dispersing and regrouping, the charging cavalry becomes an unstoppable tidal wave, crushing obstacles as they advance.
Thus, on the field, cavalry remains the flower of the battlefield.
Unless you're Krasilov, who had to abandon cavalry forces after grinding too many Transcendents in the last war, or the elves who substitute magic for cavalry. In a world where the blessing of "Line-of-Fire Detection" exists, relying on cannons is the mark of a weak nation.
So naturally, only cavalry can stop this tidal wave.
-Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—!
"Charge! Charge! Chaaaarge!!"
"For Equitania!!"
"Vittorio! Vittorio! Vittorio! Vittorio!!"
Having lost most of their Royal Knights, Equitania's cavalry still charged across the battlefield with soaring morale.
Bellacreia's cavalry charged toward the enemy's artillery position, and Equitania and Albinia's cavalry units deployed to intercept them. Banners fluttered, and the sound of horns echoed across the battlefield.
The outcome of the battle hinges solely on this point. The infantry shouting and firing their guns, the cannon fire shaking the entire battlefield—all mere supporting acts.
Still, battles begin with cavalry and end with cavalry.
The only thing that matters is this: the side with more, better, and stronger Transcendent cavalry wins.
Therefore, no great tactics or strategies are needed in battle. The difference in strength between the two sides is the only criterion that determines victory or defeat.
"Spears up!!"
"Bellacreiaaaaa!!!"
-BOOM—!!
The two cavalry groups crashed into each other like fangs.
A Transcendent represents the limit of what humans can achieve.
Transcending humanity isn't an achievement possible through innate talent alone. While awakening magical power falls within the realm of talent, the process of becoming a Transcendent afterward is determined solely by effort.
It requires effort that cuts to the bone and grinds down nerves. Forcibly stuffing magical power into nerves heated to their limits, enduring, tearing overloaded muscle fibers, and reconnecting them. Repeat.
The Domain of the Transcendent lies infinitely close to death. To reach that position requires the courage and perseverance to move toward death.
Those who transcend humanity in this way are called Transcendents. The battles of Transcendents begin in this domain. Only those who can start from scratch, setting aside existing tactics and combat methods, become knights.
These are seekers. Desires for power and wealth aren't sufficient motivation to approach this domain of death. Their purpose lies in something more noble.
Therefore, the knights of this era, burning all their skills, talents, qualities, and efforts cultivated throughout their lives, raise their swords and spears for one thing alone.
The greater cause.
Their skills weren't honed to kill enemies. But to protect. As always, for the greater cause.
That's why the emblem of any knightly order in this era was a shield.
Above the charging cavalry, shield emblems bloom like canopies.
-BOOM—!!
In the first charge, he deflected the incoming spear with his shoulder and extended his sword to precisely pierce a gap in the armor. The armor crumpled with a crunch, biting into the blade.
In this fragmented time, where fluttering banners float and soldiers' shouts and horn blasts become faintly distorted.
In this time accessible only to knights, at the limit of neural acceleration.
-CLANG—!!
Two cavalrymen exchange sword strikes, and behind them, another charges in to thrust his spear. The spearhead shatters and flies off as a knight falls, spitting blood.
From that moment, the cavalryman's movement abruptly stops. It means he's left the Domain of the Transcendent. The knight, frozen in slowly flowing time, disappears beneath the warhorse's hooves.
It's a battlefield of silence.
-CLANG—!!
The sound of clashing swords is slower than the actual clash. The time it takes for human vocal cords to vibrate and produce sound doesn't exist in their domain. Therefore, from the moment of impact, their struggle is submerged in silence.
Blades deflect. Between them, a cavalry lance thrusts brutally. The armor visibly crumples...
Another person is preserved in time, falling behind.
Dozens of sword exchanges and hundreds of clashes bloom and fade in an instant.
"Waaaaaaah—!!!"
The moment that appears to the soldiers as a single clash has passed.
In the time perceived by soldiers, two groups of cavalry crashing into each other like fangs in a wedge formation appear to shatter and scatter instantly.
The battle of Transcendents, whose combined training amounts to hundreds of years, ends. The individual epics built through decades of training burn up in an instant.
Fallen knights disappear beneath hooves and dust.
The banners bearing shield emblems they carried are planted on the battlefield.
The victorious cavalry turns around, wheeling their front line. Seeing the banner fluttering above them, the command post chooses to retreat before the soldiers do.
Cavalry is the flower of the battlefield. Once the flower is broken, the war becomes nothing more than a slaughter.
Bellacreia's 2nd Corps was crushed. The holy war of the Albinia front was over.
This was the result of months of struggle, weeks of scheming, and days of confrontation. Looking back once more, in war, everything is settled in a single final moment.
"Rest in peace."
At the command post on high ground, the Saintess made the sign of the cross and shed tears.
"So this... is war..."
Isabelle swallowed dryly as she muttered. The only war she had experienced was the siege of Tilles.
The siege of Tilles consisted merely of barely holding out in an overwhelmingly disadvantageous situation. Even then, the tide was turned by Krasilov's intervention.
So this was her first experience of a proper battle in a well-prepared situation, especially one where knights led cavalry into battle.
"Watch carefully."
Ivan said, looking at the scattering Bellacreia soldiers.
"If the Hero Party fails, all their sacrifices will have been in vain."
Until the Hero Party assassinates the Demon King, it's known that at least 50,000 soldiers died each year maintaining the front lines and diverting attention. Exact statistics are impossible, but that's the rough estimate.
Therefore, failure is not an option for the Hero Party. Their failure would be an insult to the deaths of all others.
So in those days, the Hero Party had to look to the sky while cutting through demon territory. To overcome all that burden and pressure, they had to find hope in despair and keep moving forward.
The same goes for these young heroes now. Being unprepared isn't even an excuse. It's not about what they can do, but what they must do. That's all.
And that applies to Ivan as well.
Even if these still-unprepared young heroes fail, he must be ready to take their place.
Yes, this is actually for the best. I've prepared thoroughly. Perhaps I've been preparing for this my whole life.
His long-standing position was "reserve force." So he couldn't make excuses about insufficient preparation in any situation. That would be shameful before his old comrades whom he would never meet again.
With this day's defeat, Bellacreia's 1st Corps redirected its forces. The corps that had been marching toward Equitania via Elsros began deploying at the Albinian border.
Unlike this recent battle, which was closer to a surprise attack, it took the form of a full-scale war.
When border tensions reached their peak, the papal seal appeared in the Bellacreia military camp.