In a World of Reversed Chastity, I Strive to Become an Honorable Male Knight, but Lustful Women Keep Targeting My Body - 279

Chapter 279: The Kukkoro Male Knight and a Joint Battle Line 4

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Continuing to fight while retreating was no easy task. One misstep and it could quickly turn into a true rout. Even so, the joint unit of the Liseben Army Marines and the Elder-faction Elf soldiers fought tenaciously.

One unit laid down suppressive fire while the other maneuvered. By alternating this repeatedly, we were able to fall back while minimizing casualties. It was the classic “fire and movement” tactic—shoot, move, shoot, move… After stubbornly repeating that for half an hour, we somehow succeeded in retreating into the forest near the river port.

“Don’t let the barrage lapse! Keep the enemy suppressed!”

Dragging a wounded soldier into the shade of a tree, I shouted that. Even without wearing full plate armor, a fully equipped soldier was quite a heavy burden. With cover from Sonia, who was firing her breech-loading rifle nonstop, I managed to pull her to safety.

Even if we were fighting in an orderly manner, it was impossible to reduce casualties to zero. The enemy Martyrs launched unpredictable attacks from unimaginable places. The Elders mocked them as mere youngsters, but there was no doubt they were formidable foes.

Dry gunshots rang out in succession, and the Elf soldiers who had been firing their fairy bows fell. Unlike guns, bows required limited firing postures. Shooting effectively while hiding behind cover was no easy feat. Although there was a considerable difference in rate of fire between shortbows and muzzle-loading rifles, this difference in characteristics meant that rifles did not lose as badly in practice as raw catalog specifications might suggest.

“Hey, hey! Keep it together. That’s just a scratch! Spit on it and sleep, and it’ll heal. Don’t give up on me!”

Slapping the pale face of the wounded soldier, I shouted that. A thick, short arrow distinctive to the fairy bow was lodged in the shoulder of the hyena beastman soldier.

“Owowow… I think your spit would work better than mine, Castellan. Mind putting some on for me?”

“If you can joke like that, you don’t even need treatment!”

I laughed it off, but nothing soured my mood more than seeing my subordinates wounded. Unlike the knight corps, who were equipped with full armor as standard, the infantry of the marines were issued no protection beyond steel helmets. Some wore privately owned armor, but most had only standard field uniforms. With such flimsy equipment, it was hardly reassuring.

If possible, I would have liked to at least issue them breastplates. But we had neither the money nor the materials. To begin with, Liseben only had two professional armorers. Even the gunsmiths we brought from the royal capital had only just begun operations recently…

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

A flustered medic arrived, so I handed over the hyena sister. With practiced movements, the medic snapped the embedded arrow in half and poured disinfectant—just strong liquor, really—over the wound. Then she tightly bound the area near the wound with a cord. Crude treatment, but there was only so much that could be done on the front line. Anything more would have to wait until evacuation.

“That liquor disinfectant must taste awful. I’ll bring you something better later.”

I patted the groaning soldier on the shoulder as I said that. Idle soldiers placed her on a stretcher and carried her to the rear. It went exactly as trained. I felt a little proud. It was precisely during real combat that textbook movements mattered most. Half a year ago, they had been nothing more than street punks. Now they had become proper soldiers. It made all the time I had bought through steady negotiations worthwhile. If full-scale combat had started earlier, we would not have performed nearly this well.

“If it’s plum wine, I’d like a share too.”

An Elf approached the shade where I was hiding and said that. Looking closely, it was the Elder from earlier. She wore a slightly exasperated expression, probably because I, who was supposed to have fallen back, had returned to the front again.

“Sounds good. Let’s have a feast once the shooting stops.”

“I look forward to it.”

The Elder shrugged as she said that. Lowering her posture, she peeked out from the tree’s shade to observe the enemy. Several arrows came flying with sharp whistling sounds, embedding themselves in the trunk of a tree right beside her. She pulled her head back and grinned.

“They may be youngsters, but their skill with the bow isn’t bad. They’re worthy opponents.”

She had nearly been skewered, yet she was utterly fearless. Not just her, the entire Elf force was like this. It was terrifying. Their nerves must have been made of orichalcum.

“Skill aside, their numbers are greater than expected. The enemy’s forces seem inexhaustible. Just how many Elves are cooperating with those Martyrs?”

That was my honest feeling. The enemy numbers were truly overwhelming. No matter how many we defeated, reinforcements kept coming. Sighing, I drew my revolver from its holster and began loading bullets.

Since it wasn’t a modern metallic-cartridge revolver, I had to press lead balls and powder into the front of the lotus-root-shaped cylinder. And I had to do that five times. (It was technically a six-shot revolver, but since it lacked a safety mechanism, these old-style guns were prone to accidental discharge, so it was standard practice not to load the first chamber.) Loading took quite some time.

“Well, you brought some of this on yourself.”

The Elder said that while watching my loading process with interest. The Elves were surprisingly curious—intellectually curious, too—and deeply fascinated by our weapons. Some had even asked if we would sell them firearms. …If these already ferocious Elf soldiers started carrying guns, they would be unstoppable. Naturally, I had politely declined.

“Brought it on myself?”

Setting that aside, I could not ignore that phrase and asked back. What exactly had I brought upon myself? I had tried to maintain a conciliatory attitude toward the Elves as much as possible… Had I stepped on some unseen landmine?

“Of course you did. For the past hundred years, we’ve lived in an extreme surplus-of-women situation. In that state, if a lecherous man like you struts around the village… it’s only natural that many would think about making you theirs.”

The Elder grinned as she said that. Then she added, “Of course, the same goes for the other men you brought.”

…So the group that already wanted to eliminate me had been joined by a bunch of pink-brained barbarians driven by lust? Their moral standards were like monkeys. Terrifying… though, at this point, was I really surprised?

“Seriously…”

That was an unavoidable landmine if I ever saw one. Should I have cross-dressed to disguise my gender? …No, by this world’s standards, my usual clothing was already halfway to cross-dressing.

“…”

Sonia, standing behind me, patted my shoulder with an indescribable smile. What was with that warm, indulgent look? Honestly! I fumed as I holstered the fully loaded revolver.

“Well, putting that aside… the operation’s entering its final phase. Let’s give it one more push.”

Earlier, a birdfolk messenger had brought word that both the Dalaiya and Josette detachments were in position. All that remained was to draw the enemy into the designated point.

“Oh ho, this is getting interesting. Let’s see just how skilled the Castellan of Liseben truly is.”

Taking out the fairy bow from her back, the Elder nodded. She looked genuinely excited. Honestly, every single Elf seemed like an irredeemable battle maniac. Well… I was no different.

“All units, retreat! Re-treeeaat!”

Feigning that we could no longer withstand the enemy assault, I shouted that. The allied soldiers who had been barely holding the line broke off and began running as if released from tension. Of course, Sonia, the Elder, and I followed.

This was the critical moment. When fleeing with our backs to the enemy, unit losses would be at their greatest. Normally, I would never use such a dangerous tactic. But we had a reason to sprint from this place at full speed. If we retreated slowly while continuing to fight, we would be caught in our allies’ attack…

“Hey! They’ve started running!”

“Don’t let the poisonous man escape! Take him alive!”

“Uoooooh! A man!”

Shouting barbaric cries, the Martyrs began their pursuit. Their movements lacked any coordination whatsoever. The enemy force was a mob of highly skilled individuals. A tough foe, yes, but easy to lure.

“If they catch me, this won’t be funny!”

Laughing at their conduct, which was far removed from that of forest fairies, I pumped my legs. Just a little farther to the designated lure point. I supposed I’d better run for my life, unless I wanted to be captured and made into someone’s plaything.

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