"Hyaaah!"
"Whoa, whoa!"
The horse archers thundered past no more than twenty meters from where we lay prostrate. They shouted rather boisterously at one another, likely to pinpoint each other's positions accurately. When you can't tell where the enemy is in the dark, collisions are practically inevitable.
The cavalry swept past me and Laura. They paid no attention to their flanks whatsoever. Well, just focusing on their own positions and keeping their eyes forward was already draining every last ounce of their concentration.
This is why night battles should be avoided. Of the five human senses, sight is the most critical. Fighting for your life while your vision is sealed — just how much mental energy does that drain from an individual soldier… Any army that attempts a night raid proves itself elite, and deploying horse archers — a unit type notoriously difficult to coordinate — in a night assault means they aren't some conscript rabble but professional soldiers.
What did it matter?
Being professionals didn't mean their necks would survive being broken.
"……."
I silently clenched my right fist tight. It wasn't any predetermined signal. It was merely a movement governed by my own will alone.
But the effect was absolute. From the ground, dark things oozed upward, seeping out like a viscous fluid made of shadows. In the blink of an eye they took on the form of Death Knights — clad in flawless armor, yet still half-submerged in darkness. The chirping of insects in the surroundings fell silent. Even the crickets had hidden themselves away from the overwhelming aura of death. Twelve Death Knights. They were the night itself, shrouded in mist.
Kill them.
The Death Knights exhaled. It was a bitterly cold breath — nothing like the warm exhalation of a living being performing a natural biological function. It was the remnant of mana, the substance that kept undead monsters from crumbling to dust. I could feel it. The Death Knights were chillingly honing their killing intent.
Now.
The horse archers opened fire on my unit's encampment. In any era, any military branch is most vulnerable in the moments right after launching an attack. And at the very instant the cavalry wheeled their mounts around to retreat, the Death Knights surged forward with the speed of bullets and fell upon them. A single strike. Twelve Death Knights cut down twelve horse archers in one clean sweep. The horse archers — mounts and all — were cleaved in two.
"W-What — …"
A handful of horse archers who had been fortunate enough not to be targeted first let out dazed cries. It was too dark to see, but their eyes were probably wide as saucers. They didn't have time to scream. The Death Knights, naturally, swung their swords once, then swung again, and on the second pass the remaining horse archers all fell dead. A twenty-man horse archer detachment had been annihilated.
— Groooaaan.
The Death Knights lowered their greatswords and looked toward me. Is that all? Is our enemy finished with just this? They were grumbling as much.
True to their status as high-ranking monsters, they formally acknowledged me as their master but constantly flexed their pride. Pearls on a pig's neck, one might say. Their monster level (A) was excessively high compared to my Demon Lord level (E), and they looked down on me for it.
Well, anyway, they followed orders, so it was fine. There was no need to share a deep spiritual bond with every monster. They were different from Bling or the fairies. The Death Knights were strong. That was enough. I nodded in satisfaction.
After that, we swiftly began subduing the mounted archer units stationed elsewhere. I led twelve Black Knights and ten fairies as I moved out. After about three engagements, it turned out that the mounted archers never gathered in groups larger than forty, no matter how many there were. That number was easily manageable on my end. I used various methods to thin out the mounted archer units.
"Hey, we've got a major problem! The enemy's launched a counterattack!"
I rode up to the mounted archers on horseback. When I suddenly emerged from the fog, the archers grew wary.
"Who goes there? State your affiliation."
"Friederitz. I serve as a retainer to Lord Lefheim."
That was the name of the soldier I had just killed. Before dispatching him, I had checked his identity through the Status Window.
"Listen up, gentlemen — our unit has been splitting up one by one, running around like dogs in summer heat, all to relay battlefield updates. The monsters have finally gone into heat and started charging blindly."
The mounted archers exchanged uncertain glances. I looked human enough, wore human-exclusive armor, and spoke fluent Habsburger — so their suspicion seemed to have faded considerably.
"However, we haven't received any response from our side yet..."
That was when it happened. The Death Knights, having closed in right behind the mounted archers in their spectral state, burst up from the ground in unison. The horses reared in fright, lifting their front hooves. In the moment the panicked archers fumbled for the swords at their waists, the greatswords of the Black Knights came flying in even faster.
Crimson blood sprayed through the air. Bodies, severed of their heads, swayed for a moment before helplessly toppling from horseback. Thud. Thud. The corpses collapsed onto the grass one after another. A few warhorses, freed from their riders, fled beyond the fog. The remaining five or six horses seemed unaware their riders were dead, whinnying and tossing their heads.
"My lord, we must press on without pause."
"Agreed."
Laura and I each seized a horse and mounted. Now that we were certain the mounted archers were no match for the Death Knights, it was wiser to cut down the enemy as quickly as possible rather than waste time on ambushes.
"Knights, hear me! I understand full well that you are dissatisfied at having to serve me as your master instead of Barbatos. But this is a battlefield!"
I bellowed grandly and raised my right arm high.
"Shelve your pride. Honor is something only soldiers who have won the right to speak of it may discuss — the rest can be thrown to the dogs! Swear your swords for the sake of your true duty, for the sake of your allies who are right now barely holding against the enemy's onslaught! If you cannot even do that, are you not smearing the face of Barbatos himself, the one who bestowed you upon me!"
— Groooooooar.
The Black Knights roared with displeasure at my cry. They were clearly irritated. But I could feel them coming around to what I said. Then there was no problem at all. All you need to do is follow my orders in silence!
I served the 8th-ranked Demon Lord and then suddenly had to bow to the 71st-ranked trash — of course there'd be resentment. But here's the thing you're overlooking: the one who fought and won against that very 8th-ranked Demon Lord is me, Dantalion. The battlefield doesn't afford the luxury of indulging hurt feelings, and you combat professionals know that better than anyone!
"There's no need to etherealize! Ride!"
I spurred my warhorse and galloped toward the next position. Raura clung close at my flank. On either side, the Death Knights followed at superhuman speed, and the fairies flew alongside. Warhounds scattered throughout the area fed me the enemy's positions from above. Moments later, we crashed straight into a unit of mounted archers.
"The Demon Lord Dantalion is here!"
The mounted archers gaped in shock as they turned toward us. They reacted with astonishing speed, nocking and firing arrows in a flat volley. Impressive reflexes. I ordered the fairies to conjure wind magic, forming a wall of air directly in front of me. With a hiss of displaced wind, the arrows deflected past Raura and me.
—Graaaaaah!
The Death Knights took a few hits, yet they didn't slow their charge by even a fraction. The mounted archers never got a chance to loose a second volley. The Death Knights swung their greatswords and cleaved through the Imperial cavalry's heads — brute force through and through. The blades stabbed, carved, hacked, and in the blink of an eye roughly twenty mounted archers were cut apart. It was like a chariot rolling over infantry.
"How pathetic! You're slower than even a weakling like me! I suppose Barbatos's training wasn't as brutal as all that!"
Seeing one whole unit wiped out, I let out a booming jeer while hiding the satisfaction that warmed my chest. The Death Knights bristled at the blatant provocation. Proud as they were of serving alongside Barbatos for centuries, they cherished above all else the prestige of being the army of the 8th-ranked Demon Lord. I exploited that pride.
Just then, drawn by the commotion, a fresh unit of mounted archers poured in from the flanks. Unlike the ones we'd ambushed so far, these came ready for a proper fight. They unleashed a synchronized volley first, then drew their longswords from their hips and charged.
"It's the Demon Lord! Kill the Demon Lord!"
This time the scale was considerably larger — nearly forty by a quick count. Two small squads merged together, or more likely a unit led by a commander of some standing. The soldiers transitioned naturally from mounted archers to heavy cavalry, roaring war cries and raising their swords high. Two of them slashed sabers at me.
But no blade ever reached me. Just before the curved steel struck my chest, a greatsword swept in to intercept. Clang! — a piercing ring of metal resounded. A single greatsword blocked two cavalry sabers simultaneously. A Death Knight had materialized at my side, extending its greatsword to shield me.
—Graaah!
The Death Knight deflected the cavalry blades aside and immediately pivoted the greatsword in a retaliatory arc. The massive blade sheared through the waists of two horsemen in a straight line. Armor shattered and steaming innards burst free. Blood sprayed across my body.
—Grrrgh.
The Death Knight glanced at my face for the briefest instant. A heartbeat, no more — if you could even call it a glance. Through the visor, I felt a cold gaze pass over me. Then it turned and charged into the cluster of cavalry. Wherever the greatsword parted the dawn air, jaws shattered and torsos split. The forty-strong cavalry unit was annihilated in a matter of seconds.
"R-Retreat!"
"That one is the commander!"
I roared at the horsemen who were trying to organize a fighting withdrawal. One Death Knight hurled its greatsword like a javelin. The two-meter two-handed sword embedded itself squarely in a cavalryman's shoulder. The soldier's right arm was torn off at the forearm. He screamed and was thrown from his horse. Unable to break his fall, he hit the ground headfirst and almost certainly died on impact.
After that, it was a one-sided massacre. The light cavalry never stood a chance against the Death Knights, the heaviest infantry there was. The Imperial forces boldly engaged in close combat, but their boldness was just that — boldness — and they paid with their lives for their courage. That area was settled. I shouted to the Death Knights.
"Move on to the next target!"
Over the course of roughly thirty minutes, we encountered twelve units of horse archers. Sometimes we engaged them in close combat, sometimes we chased them or they chased us. In close quarters, we annihilated them without mercy; in pursuit, we let them escape just enough. My goal was simply to force the Imperial army to abandon horse archer tactics altogether. If they retreated willingly, there was no real need to chase them down.
Mid-battle, an arrow managed to slip past the elves' wind barrier and lodged itself in my thigh. That was the only damage I sustained across the twelve small engagements. It hurt like hell, but that was all. A Demon Lord's body had remarkable regenerative abilities. I wasn't about to die from something like this. Come to think of it, I'd also taken an arrow to the thigh right after being dropped into this world. Hm, a peculiar bit of misfortune.
In the final engagement, I unfortunately lost one Death Knight. Among the cavalry unit, there was an actual knight serving as commander. He must have been the overall commander of all the horse archers. There was even a battle standard, so I was certain of it. For the first time in my life, I ended the battle by capturing a battle standard.
"I think this should be enough."
Laura spoke with a voice that clearly showed her exhaustion. She hadn't killed a single soldier. She had only commanded the Death Knights and the elves alongside me. I was slightly tired myself, so I nodded.
"Yes. I'd appreciate it if they'd withdraw at this point, but……."
I estimated we'd killed around two hundred and forty soldiers. A comparable number had retreated. The Imperial field commanders would be debating by now whether to continue using horse archer tactics or not. If they decided it wasn't their call, they'd report to Margrave von Rosenberg. In other words, the right wing of our 6th Army Corps had bought itself that much more time…….
Far off on the horizon, the sun began to brighten. The sun was completely shrouded in fog, casting only a pale, milky glow. Even though dawn had broken, visibility hadn't improved at all.
I looked in the direction of the enemy forces. No matter how many horse archers they threw at us, we wouldn't come out. The engagement you're hoping for will never happen. So what's your next move, Imperial army?