Chapter 79: Raising the Flag

Beneath a thin lamp's glow, the shadows of three people crossed one another.

It was the second day since making contact with the resistance. The unfolded map bore pale smudges of accumulated grime, and upon it, newly obtained intelligence had been marked. The main Niboria Empire force's direction of movement, the cavalry's position, and the anticipated routes of their raids.

Information that the Antelopes had never once managed to get their hands on—the enemy's perspective, laid out in full detail.

"Here."

Luma Critang's finger pointed to a single spot on the map.

"From the moment they cross this point, they've been moving at consistent intervals each day. It aligns precisely with the timing of the nomad raids."

Calix stared down at the markings of the Imperial cavalry with an expressionless face. Yet within those eyes, a quiet fury burned.

Soon, Royce spoke.

"When is the next raid?"

"I'll let you know in good time. Before those bastards move, carrier pigeons always come flying in."

"It needs to be certain."

"Naturally."

Despite the implicit pressure applied, a composed voice returned. Count Critang's nephew answered with confidence, as if to say there was nothing to worry about.

"We are fighting a war, after all. Times like these are ideal for spies."

"Are you saying you have a spy within the Imperial forces?"

"Nothing to be surprised about. I'd wager there are Imperial spies mixed in among those nomads right now."

He was right.

Royce gave a nod.

War was, by nature, a battle of information. The reason the Antelopes had been unable to take the offensive until now was that they had no means of obtaining intelligence on the enemy.

And what that meant was—

"Then that settles it. Things will be different from here on."

Calix raised his head to look at the leader.

"As long as we know when, where, and how those bastards move… We can strike first."

The surroundings fell quiet.

The Antelopes shared a single emotion in silence. Until now, they had only ever taken hits. They had been forced to adopt the strategy of those who retreat, and the Imperial cavalry had rewarded them with flanking maneuvers, ambushes, and deception.

But now, it was different.

"At last……"

Vice-captain Marik murmured low.

"We'll be able to fight properly."

Hadiya fidgeted with the hilt of her sword, and Zahira straightened her back. Gregor rapped the surface of his shield, and Basim likewise raised his fist to beat against the protruding bone of his hip several times. It was the dwarven way of showing resolve.

The spirit spreads.

As though they had made a pact, the hunched shoulders rose, eyes sharpening as they lifted their heads. The next question was already decided.

"So when, and where do we go?"

The eyes of the leader and vice-captain met. The members had finished steeling themselves—it was time to emerge from the burrow.

"There is no fixed battlefield. Wherever the Imperial forces enter is where we raise our blades."

"Making use of hillocks or streams would be wise. If we can know the direction of the raid in advance, there's more than enough room to work with."

To Royce's answer, Calix's proposal was added.

"Above all, flexible response to the enemy's movements is crucial."

All eyes converged.

"Until now, if we had retreat and defense in mind, from here on we must design the battlefield and advance aggressively. We must pour out everything we have."

"……So he says. Does everyone agree?"

A night breeze tapped at their shoulders and urged them on, and a stark light flickered in the eyes of the Antelopes.

* * *

Even across a plain, there is variation in elevation. Where a stream trickles along, the land sinks into shadow, while gently rising terrain exists elsewhere as well.

And at the foot of a hillock, a band of nomads had settled. They lit fires, straightened warped splints, and divided rations. At a glance, they appeared exhausted and utterly defenseless.

The Imperial cavalry observed that scene from a distance.

"Couldn't be more foolish. A number that was never large enough to conceal behind a hillock to begin with."

Laughter spread.

They were an elite mounted unit composed of 110 junior knights and 20 senior knights. Dealing with wanderers was an easier task than twisting a child's wrist.

"Sir Sarante, why not take this opportunity to dispose of all of them entirely?"

A natural question. But the knight commander shook his head.

They had been drawn from separate knight orders and assembled together on the grounds that a swift response was urgently needed. Their organizational cohesion was not particularly strong. But more than that, what mattered was the clear directive they had received from command.

"I understand your sentiments, but our mission is to pin down the Antelopes. There is no need to kill every last nomad. Inflicting injuries and breaking their morale must come first. Above all, we must not suffer casualties ourselves."

After dampening the young knight's fighting spirit, he extended his hand and issued the order to advance. The Imperial cavalry lined up in formation and soon began to advance at a steady pace.

"Once we clear the hillock, our targets will be exposed immediately! There is no need for mercy! Remember only your loyalty to His Majesty!"

"Ha!"

The sound of hoofbeats gradually quickened.

"Cavalry—!"

As they reached the ridge, the mounted commander's shout erupted.

"Charge!"

Drdrdrdrdr.

And so, just as they were about to launch their merciless charge—that was the very moment.

Dust rose from the right flank.

"……What!"

The horses reacted before their riders. Starting from those at the far right, the horses' heads twisted as they broke formation.

The Antelopes, some fifty mounted fighters, burst out from nowhere.

"Right flank! Enemy on the right!"

The response came a beat too late. It had been a single-column charge, which left the flanks correspondingly vulnerable. Three or four knights at the far end had their backs seized, and in an instant, they were cut by flaming blades and unseated.

Whoosh.

Calix took the lead.

Without whipping his horse, he advanced swiftly, naturally matching the animal's rhythm. As though the undulations of the ground did not exist.

At this, Knight Commander Sarante called out coldly.

"Break left! Activate the barding!"

Shwoooosh.

Simultaneously, the eyes of the Imperial warhorses glowed red. As the mana stones mounted on the barding drew out their output, pale steam rose from the beasts' bodies.

The Imperial cavalry's speed surged explosively.

They abandoned the raid and wheeled around on the spot. In an instant, the distance between them widened enormously. There was no shortage of time—they would return to the main force and come back again.

Drdrdrdrdr.

But this time, the Antelopes did not stop.

"We give chase!"

At Royce's order, the members gave a nod. They knew the horses were weary, but they pursued regardless. For this purpose, the horseshoes had been replaced, sufficient rest had been given, and countless reviews had been conducted.

Yes.

Everything was going according to plan.

"Ha! Those bastards have lost their minds!"

Amidst all this, a scornful voice burst from within the Imperial cavalry.

"Exactly! We only need to swap horses and we're back to peak condition!"

"They'll give up soon enough! They'll fall behind before long!"

Then, all at once, another cavalry unit appeared from one side of the plain.

"……What is that?"

Some ninety riders approached from the left flank of the Imperial force. They wore no barding, but for that very reason, they were faster under normal conditions.

Screeeeech—thwack!

Whirrrr!

And soon, they embroidered the air with red flames.

Fire arrows.

"The Resistance!"

"Those are Count Critang's subordinates!"

"Ignore them! Their barding and neural accelerators are worthless! Less than nothing!"

And so it was.

Thudthudthud, thump!

The arrowheads snapped with ease. Despite a volley being loosed, not a single person was hurt. It was for this reason that long-range weapons had disappeared since the age of neural accelerators dawned. They were used only for civilian hunting.

But the beasts were startled.

The horses raised their heads and stared into the sky. In those black pupils, a burning sky was reflected. For animals prone to fear, it was devastating.

Soon, the warhorses began to struggle to break free from their riders' control.

"Easy now! Easy!"

"What in the—why are you acting up over mere arrows!"

With fire arrows raining down ceaselessly, their pace gradually slowed. It was a truly bizarre sight. Not a single casualty had been suffered, yet their feet had been caught.

In that time, the distance between them and the Antelopes had narrowed to a mere three hundred meters.

"Sir Sarante, give the order!"

"Don't panic! The main force is right ahead! Just a little further to run!"

The commander injected hope at the right moment. Sure enough, the soldiers of the main force could be seen waving. Infantry alone numbered over a thousand. Including reserve knights and escort personnel, the total count reached several thousand. If the enemy pursued them this far, it would be less a chase and more akin to suicide.

At that very moment, the Antelopes all reached into their garments simultaneously.

What they drew out were small, transparent glass vials. Within them, liquid of a beautiful color sloshed about. Then, as Calix—standing at the head—pressed the top of the vial, a needle shot out from the bottom.

It was the diluted Physical Enhancement Agent—extracted by force from Sier Lagrin, the Doctrinal Chancellor of the Elvra Holy Empire.

Knight Commander Sarante glanced back at the sight and let out a quiet groan.

A physical enhancement agent, huh…… No matter what they do, they can't kill thousands of soldiers. This is a battle they cannot win.

And soon, as Calix plunged the needle in, a shout erupted.

"Have they lost their minds! Those— those insane fools! Do you even know what that substance is!"

Sarante momentarily forgot his standing and released a voice filled with astonishment. He knew just how precious a physical enhancement agent was.

The Antelopes had not used that precious treasure on themselves. Instead, they plunged it into the necks of their horses.

He was left speechless. The physical enhancement agent was a treasure so rare that even knights of the Niboria Empire were allocated, at best, one vial per noble house. A miraculous drop that amplified the circulation of mana within the body and pushed it to its absolute limit.

And yet they had given it to a beast.

The misunderstanding deepened because he was unaware it was diluted—but before any of that—

Prrrr, thump.

The warhorses' cries rang out across the field.

* * *

Saliva sprayed from the horses' muzzles. Their ears twitched and folded back, and even as they ran, they drew deep, heavy breaths. In succession, their bodies trembled faintly. Muscles spasmed. They twisted their necks side to side, releasing cries that sounded like screams from their mouths.

It was not pain. They were rejoicing. The fatigue that had crept into every corner of their flesh was swept away. As the muscles that had been suppressed gained freedom, the horses raised their heads one by one.

Life returned to their eyes.

The beasts understood instinctively. That the chains had been broken.

With that, the rhythm of the hoofbeats changed.

Thuddd.

Thwack, thwack, thwack—

Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

The hooves no longer pressed down upon the earth. Before the ground could crumble beneath them, the next foot had already been placed. At that moment, the mana within their bodies reached a state of oversaturation—and flowed into the mana stones set within the barding.

The warhorses' eyes turned red.

Rather than being pushed back by the wind, they cleaved through it and surged forward. Though they were running in the same direction as the Imperial cavalry, the distance shrank in an instant.

A mere hundred paces.

"Battle formation! Prepare for collision!"

"Prepare for collision!"

"Faster……. Faster!"

At this, Royce relayed the order, and in time, Volga—standing in the center of the second column—raised a pole. Three meters in length. To some it would be nothing more than an ordinary wooden rod, but to them, it was a flagpole.

Carried on the breeze, the Antelopes' emblem billowed.

A flag.

It was the identity and symbol of the Antelopes. Proof of the bond that connected them through sworn covenant, and on the battlefield, a compass that stood in place of the commander's voice.

"R-run!"

"Damn it, we're almost there!"

"Block them, you bastards! Come out and block them!"

The Imperial knights screamed desperately at the soldiers of the main force, but…… It was far too late.

Calix, standing at the head, put a whistle to his lips.

Pheeeeeee!

It was the signal announcing the final charge.

"Chaaaaarge!"

Royce and Marik, Volga and Gregor, the dwarf Basim and Zahira, and all the rest—without exception, they cried out a single word, and—

A red line was drawn across the battlefield.

CRAAAACK!

The Antelopes crashed into the Imperial cavalry almost simultaneously, yet there was no need to concern themselves with the presence of the main force infantry. Warhorses' hind legs buckled, saddles went flying, and armor was torn apart.

CRACK!

Neeeeigh!

And then, hooves became entangled from every direction. Mounted soldiers toppled in a chain, one after another. As legs buckled and balance was lost, riders were hurled to the ground along with their mounts. The massive bodies crushed their masters. With the added weight of barding, there was no means of escape.

"No, no—!"

Crunch!

The finishing blow was left to the hooves that came trampling down.

Thud, THUD!

The Antelopes continued to advance without pause. Shields were shattered, spears were broken, and throats were cut. Following the flag, they pressed forward, eyes fixed on a single objective.

"Kill only the mounted ones!"

"Don't leave a single one alive!"

They wanted the Imperial force's mobility destroyed. The main force infantry could be ignored. What could infantry do? Having once known what it was to walk the earth, they understood all too well how helpless it made one. The speed born of mana, the mass added to that speed—it was this terrifying.

For some time after that, the knights fell without being able to raise a hand. Even Imperial knights had never learned to fight with their backs exposed.

An unfair battle.

And on that day, the Antelopes inflicted damage on the Imperial cavalry approaching total annihilation before withdrawing with ease. In a span of time not even enough to finish a cup of tea, they had brought down an entire pillar of the battlefield.