The Rural Officer Who Was Once a General

Part 1, Chapter 24

While the Tryaev unit was engaged in fierce combat, the Fade unit had only one task: marching.

And it was a rather fast-paced march.

The core of the strategy Fade had in mind was speed, and so his centurion unit had adopted a truly reckless approach.

The soldiers, seemingly not even considering battle, dashed through the forest barehanded without proper light armor, and their weapons and heavy gear were loaded onto wagons pulled by strong horses.

“Ugh, shit, shiiit!”

Having been ordered by Fade not to raise their voices, the soldiers could only grit their teeth and mutter curses under their breath.

The horses pulling the wagons would run like mad, and when they collapsed from exhaustion, they were left behind with just a water bottle and some hay.

They had procured quite a few horses beforehand, so they simply switched them out whenever one got tired.

So, what was the resulting marching speed?

It was even faster than the speed at which each person would normally ride a horse in full armor.

They marched like that for a full day.

The soldiers were divided into three groups. Taking turns, one group would eat meals that didn’t require fire or get some sleep on the wagons, while the rest just kept running.

The soles of their boots began to wear out, and those who had opted for lightweight shoes to shed even a bit of weight ended up having to sprint barefoot, pounding the ground.

The bitter taste in their mouths wouldn’t go away.

When their legs hurt so badly they thought they’d die, their hearts started to ache. When their hearts felt like they were about to give out, their arms, swinging constantly, began to hurt.

After flailing their limbs like that to the point of breaking, a brief rest would come.

A rest on the rattling wagon.

Motion sickness made them want to puke, and their numb bodies made it difficult to even take a sip of water or a bite of bread.

At the end of that agonizing sprint, they finally reached a point near the swamp.

“Rest until the signal.”

That was all Fade said, and the soldiers who had run for sixteen hours straight in one day simply collapsed onto the grassy ground.

Some were moved to see their limbs still attached. A few passed out the moment Fade closed his mouth.

One soldier buried his head in a bush and unleashed a stream of curses, while others, having dismounted the wagons, vomited here and there.

Even in such a state, some were calmly chewing on bread, and a few, not long after, were already walking around cheerfully.

The rangers and a few light infantry that Fade had specially assigned stood watch in the meantime, but it wasn’t particularly arduous.

This was a central route in the forest, and the area was thickly covered with traps.

The rangers only had to silence any still-living enemies when they heard a trap trigger, and reset the trap afterward.

Then, a clear signal pierced the sky.

***

The watcher, who had departed early from the central watchtower, was able to see the tower riddled with arrows.

There were signs left behind of the struggle his comrades had fought.

And the despicable bastards of the Khanate were still crossing the swamp.

Some were using transported materials to build a supply depot and fortifications.

Grinding his teeth, the watcher looked elsewhere.

He saw a path littered with dead horses and archers.

All around were traps that had outlived their usefulness.

That bloodstained path stretched on until it ended at a single figure—a collapsed corpse.

The face was unrecognizable, as was every part of the body. Nothing about it hinted at what he had looked like in life. Yet, by instinct, the watcher recognized the corpse’s owner.

“Captain…”

The watcher bit his lip.

Blood welled up from the edge of his teeth.

The black outfit reinforced with metal plates in places, the excessive number of arrows nearby—

It was Blathyun’s corpse.

“Those… fucking bastards…”

The watcher’s body trembled.

He stood there in silence for a moment, then melted into the bushes.

He sprinted silently through the underbrush toward the western watchtower.

Thunk.

He stabbed a patrolling infantryman with a dagger, quickly covering his mouth.

“Gkkhh…”

After throwing the fallen soldier into the bushes, the watcher quietly approached the watchtower pillar.

Tatadak!

With practiced movements, he climbed the pillar and landed on the second floor.

The slope to the third floor seemed too steep, so he decided to take the stairs from the second to the third.

“Kuuuuh…”

The soldier dozing on the third floor got a spear through the head.

Sssff.

The watcher struck a match and lit the fuse of a firework, then slid down the watchtower pillar.

He immediately leapt toward an assassin on patrol and stabbed him in the neck with a dagger, dragging him into the bushes as they fell.

Once he confirmed the life had left the assassin’s body, the watcher quietly weaved through the underbrush toward the area where the fortifications were being built.

Paaaaang!

As the firework shot into the sky, the watcher climbed a tree.

“What the—what’s going on?”

While the soldiers stared blankly at the firework, he leapt onto the half-built supply depot.

He swiftly took down the engineers working on the roof with a few thrown daggers, then lit all his remaining matches and tossed them onto a haystack.

Whoosh!

Flames surged up in an instant, engulfing the supply depot.

The watcher used the fire to light some pre-prepared dry wood, then set fire to the wagons lined up around the depot.

“Enemy attack! Enemy attack! There’s an enemy over there!”

By the time the Khanate soldiers understood what was happening and spotted him, the word ‘escape’ had already vanished from his mind.

Fwish!

Reflexively thrown daggers sank into the necks of several infantrymen.

Thwack!

In return, an arrow came flying and dug deep into his thigh.

“Gkhh…”

Groaning, the watcher ran toward the makeshift fortification under construction.

“Stop that arsonist bastard!”

Infantry blocked his path, but by then the firewood in his hands had already vanished into flames.

“Damn it! That bastard threw a torch!”

A tall soldier thrust his spear forward.

“You’re not going anywhere!”

Twisting his entire body, the watcher brandished his short spear.

The arrow embedded in his thigh tore the wound wider as he moved, but he didn’t care.

For some reason, he couldn’t even feel the pain anymore.

Thud!

The short spear crushed through the plate armor and lodged itself in the chest of the tall soldier.

Whooosh!

The flames, sparked from the embers, spread rapidly and engulfed the Khanate's encampment.

“Goddamn it, kill him! Kill that bastard!”

“You idiots, put out the fire fir—”

Thunk!

A short spear flew in and burst the head of one of the shouting centurions.

“Uwaaaaah!”

The watcher screamed and hurled throwing weapons at everyone nearby, one after another.

With each throw, arrows began to fly at him, one by one.

Papapapak!

Soon, the watcher—now a human pincushion—collapsed to his knees.

It wasn’t because of the pain.

His torn, ruptured leg muscles could no longer support his body.

“Now! Get him!”

Two soldiers wielding halberds rushed in.

Swish.

The watcher, mustering the last of his strength, deflected the first strike and drove a dagger into one soldier’s abdomen.

Riiip!

The shaft of the other soldier’s halberd slammed into the watcher’s head.

The world spun, but the watcher finished what he had started.

It wasn’t willpower—his body simply moved on ingrained instinct.

He twisted the dagger and pulled it out, coughing up blood.

Craack!

This time, the blow landed squarely—a clean strike to the head. His skull split open, spilling his brains.

“Ahh… fuck this…”

***

The second firework.

It was, of course, the signal Fade had been waiting for.

A sign that chaos had been sown in the enemy’s rear.

As the events he’d envisioned played out one by one, Fade decided it was time for the next phase.

“All troops, arm yourselves.”

The soldiers glanced at Fade with slight dissatisfaction, but when they looked into his deep blue eyes, they lowered their heads and began putting on their armor.

Once they had strapped on their weapons—swords, spears, and the like—Fade continued with his orders.

“We advance. Our goal is to cut the enemy in half. If we fail here, we’re all dead.”

Fade kept his voice as calm as possible.

Even with him only recently in his twenties, the weight in his tone was unmistakable.

“Karun.”

“Yes, Centurion!”

“Kill everything you see. Don’t think—act on instinct. But keep your ears open. You still need to hear my commands.”

“Yes! As you command!”

With that, Karun mounted his horse.

He couldn’t fight from horseback, but it was at least a way to conserve his energy before the clash.

Clack-clack! Clack-clack!

With Fade’s rapid charge, the Fade centurion unit surged through the thicket.

“Karun, the moment battle starts, shout. Make sure Rakula knows we’re here.”

“Got it!”

Karun, visibly excited, swung his axe in the air.

Hoo... so this is where it begins.

The fun part.

Fade curled his lips into a grin as he spotted the enemy.

“All units, crush the savages on the field.”

Slash!

As he rushed toward the flank of the enemy cavalry, Fade sliced through a soldier’s neck.

"Chargeeeee!"

Karun, now dismounted, let out a roar and charged in, prompting the other infantry to join in the shouting.

“Well then, shall we put this to the test?”

Fade swept through the nearby cavalry with his sword.

Around five hundred of them in sight.

So these bastards really brought only cavalry, huh?

Fade glanced backward.

There were quite a few heavy cavalrymen among them, but in this chaotic melee, they likely wouldn’t dare charge recklessly.

“I’d been wondering about this anyway.”

Fade readjusted his grip on his sword.

“How well can I fight now?”

He had trained his body over time.

Sure, his abs still showed no sign of definition—

—but through countless sparring matches while training his soldiers, he’d regained his touch.

Yet he had never pushed himself to the limit.

To him, limits were only revealed in real combat.

How much of his former self had he reclaimed?

How far was he now from the days of the Ten Fingers?

Hundreds of cavalrymen—just the right opponents for such a test.

Fade swung his sword without hesitation.

Strategy?

If they lost this battle, any tactics would be meaningless anyway.

What other choice was there but to throw everything he had into it?

The cavalry would manage on their own, and the infantry would do just fine under Karun’s command.

In this chaotic melee, there was no need for command.

All that was left for him was to cut down the enemy—again and again.

Fade extended his sword and struck a single point.

Right where the heart of a light cavalryman happened to be—he collapsed, blood pouring from his chest.

“Hah!”

Fade spun, creating more and more points in a single flowing motion.

When turning his upper body wasn’t enough, he pulled his foot from the stirrup and rotated with his lower body as well.

As he completed a full turn and returned to his original position, a red circle bloomed in the path his blade had traced.

“Huah!”

Once the nearby light cavalry were dealt with, Fade charged at the mounted archers ahead.

Shrrrk—Shk!

Every time his sword fell and rose again, ragged red lines stretched in its wake.

Srrrng!

Where his blade swept horizontally, a deep crimson arc followed, unbroken.

Though the swordsmanship was backed by decades of experience, its logic was brutally simple.

Where the sword passed, blood erupted.

***

Part 2

In the eyes of the Khanate cavalry, it looked like a hell forged of blades and blood.