Chapter 33: The Battle of Kabachi Plains (Latter Part)

Humanity’s first long-range attack tactic was “stone throwing.” The edge of hitting the enemy from afar without risk didn’t just make hunting safer. It opened wild new plays—like flushing prey by flinging rocks in crazy directions. Long before civilization, humans hunted and warred with nothing but a good throw.

Civilization grew, so did the throws. The hunger for bigger destruction, farther away birthed “mechanical throwing.” Catapults to hurl boulders no man could lift. Ballistae to fire arrows with bone-crushing power. By the time the Holy Felcis Kingdom rose, these weapons were perfected. Giant ballistae already lined the walls of Valihart Grand Fortress.

In Tolmakia year 202, under Ziltania Fizz Tolmakia, a massive breakthrough hit pulley-and-lever machines. “Firearms” arrived. Black powder blasts that launched shells to wreck distant targets rewrote military history. Catapults and ballistae were huge, slow to move, impossible to hide, and couldn’t rapid-fire. Superhuman Holy Knight Paladins laughed at predictable attacks anyway. So these weapons stuck to sieges and sea fights.

The Kabachi Plains Battle in Tolmakia year 202 August became legend as humanity’s first field use of firearms. More than that, the “Holy Knight Paladin versus firearm” showdown between two named Chevalier heroes still sets hearts racing centuries later…

BOOM.

The earth-shaking roar hit first, then the shockwave. Pillars of dirt exploded skyward. Soldiers screamed. Phalanx narrowed his eyes and scanned the chaos. One impact and his perfect formation was shattered. Men lay everywhere. Even his staff officers looked rattled by the sudden dirt geysers.

“W-what the hell? Magic?”

“But they’re still five hundred meters out! No spell reaches that far…”

Another ground-shaking roar. Holy Knight Paladin Gratina Wackenheim leapt from her horse, sword flashing once. A thirty-centimeter iron ball split clean in two and thudded to the dirt. The ground shook again. Horses screamed and bucked. Soldiers panicked. Two hits and the Iron Wall Phalanx formation was gone. But Phalanx’s next call was pure genius.

“Raise the black flag!”

The signal for “scatter and retreat.” In the collapsing chain of command, it let every squad pull out on its own. First time Phalanx had ever flown it since becoming general.

The jet-black banner snapped open. Captain Rukken of the hundred-man unit couldn’t believe his eyes. The undefeated Belgarad Phalanx ordering escape? He froze. His vice-captain’s shout snapped him back.

“Captain!”

“…Retreat! Everyone, pull back now! Move!”

Cracks spider-webbed through the ranks. Squads peeled off in controlled chaos, like scattering spiders yet perfectly drilled. Only Phalanx’s personal three thousand stayed, forming the rear guard. Austro Tolmakia let out a low whistle at the beautiful withdrawal.

“Fast… As expected of Phalanx. I figured he’d eat at least three more shells before folding.”

“But it’s within predictions, Your Highness. Just as we thought—he’s staying with his direct troops to cover the retreat. Perfect chance…”

Chief of Staff Partina Sircury pressed forward, voice tight with excitement. Ten years as the kingdom’s shield, the legendary Belgarad Phalanx—now was the moment to take his head. Austro raised his right hand.

Third shot fired. Dirt pillars erupted around the personal guard. Most missed. The retreat was already rolling. Phalanx watched, nodded once, satisfied.

“So it’s not magic. Some new weapon. Their aim can’t keep up with our movement… means it takes time to adjust…”

Even in crisis, that faint smile never left his lips. Gratina approached holding one of the iron spheres. He glanced at it, then called a young rider barely past twenty.

“Werner. Orders. Take this to the fortress and deliver these exact words. The empire has developed a new weapon that fires iron balls. Tremendous range and power. But operation is flawed…”

“G-General…”

“Go. Don’t make your unborn child fatherless.”

“Guh… The empire has developed a new weapon that fires iron balls! Tremendous range and power! But operation is flawed!”

He bellowed the repeat, snatched the sphere from Gratina, and galloped off. Phalanx wasn’t watching anymore. The enemy was moving. Cavalry pouring from both flanks, starting a half-encirclement. No retreat now. The infantry were still too close. He had to bait them here, buy time with his own neck. And he couldn’t just defend. A static formation would get showered by arrows from every side. Three thousand versus thirty thousand. Hopeless odds. Yet Phalanx laughed.

“Nfufufu… You really came prepared. I knew you’d try something, but this? Even this situation is exactly what you predicted, isn’t it? Take the Arus River, secure the bridgehead for the fortress, and claim my head all at once… Brilliant plan. However…”

Phalanx stretched out his right arm. A retainer handed him the jet-black spear he’d carried since his first battle. Steel fingers tightened with a creak. A savage light filled his face—the look of a warrior who’d crossed countless battlefields and slaughtered countless foes.

“…Don’t underestimate me. They call me the defensive Phalanx, but I excel at offense too. Listen up, everyone. Enemy: thirty thousand. Us: three thousand. But man for man, we’re far stronger. Weak soldiers who need toys like that weapon? They’re nothing to fear!”

HOUU!!

The steel soldiers roared. Eyes blazed. Power surged through every limb. The cannon fire had stopped. Three thousand formed a single black mass and faced the thirty-thousand-strong army head-on.

Gratina shot her husband a questioning glance. The two of them alone could still flee. But Chevalier Walter Wackenheim gave a tiny nod and drew his sword. That was enough. Gratina understood. He meant to fight to the death. The Holy Knight smiled, proud. This is why they call him the legendary Chevalier.

Spears rose. Three thousand war cries shook the plains. The black mass charged straight into the enemy lines.

A little way from the battlefield, inside a small copse, a group waited. Kaito, four Holy Knight candidates, and a hundred former soldiers. They had slipped out of Valihart Grand Fortress at night, circled the fighting, and reached this thicket. Only two and a half kilometers from the lines—close enough, yet hidden from imperial scouts. From the empire’s view it was left-rear flank, tiny woods. Nothing worth noticing.

“What the… What’s happening out there?”

Kaito climbed a tree, eyes narrowed. Glasses existed in this era, but telescoping lenses didn’t. All he saw was enemy lines belching smoke. Then came the low drum-like booms. He shifted his gaze to Phalanx’s formation. Dirt pillars erupted. Decision made. He dropped down and explained.

“General’s lines are under attack. Unknown method. Could be magic, could be a weapon. Either way the formation’s collapsing. We stay put and we lose.”

“Lose? Wait, the great Belgarad Phalanx losing? You serious?”

The hundred ex-soldiers scowled. Their respect for the undefeated general bordered on faith. They’d come mostly because the general’s daughter begged, not because this guy convinced them. That daughter—Elsa Phalanx—stepped in front of the men and faced Kaito.

“Kaito. Papa’s losing? You sure?”

“He’ll lose. Phalanx army’s strength is iron cohesion. That attack rips it to shreds. Even a genius can’t rally a broken command chain fast.”

“So what do we do?”

“Miss, wait a second…”

The men tried to stop her. Elsa spun, bowed deep.

“Sorry, everyone… I don’t get tactics or battle flow. But I trust Kaito’s judgment. If he says Papa’s in danger, then he is. Please… lend us your strength!”

“…”

They traded looks. A red-haired beauty begging with raw pain on her face. Their hearts were still too young to refuse. These were soldiers forged by the legendary general himself, even if retired now. They’d come to be useful. No one was turning back.

“…Let’s do it.”

One muttered.

“Yeah, let’s go…”

More voices joined. Do it. Let’s wreck them! Arms and legs that had lost limbs or strength suddenly burned with the old battlefield fire. Kaito nodded.

“Then here’s the plan. Enemy thirty thousand, us a hundred. Straight fight? Impossible. So we create a phantom army… and strike Austro Tolmakia’s mind.”

Phalanx’s three thousand slammed into the enemy like a black hammer. Exactly as Austro had foreseen.

“That’s right. When you’ve got nothing left, you charge with brute force. Signal both wings. Encircle them completely and crush them!”

Gongs rang. Nearly ten thousand soldiers each flank surged forward, cutting off every escape. The only way out was a central breakthrough. Any turn and they’d get slaughtered from behind. Austro wasn’t about to allow it. His center—wooden barricades and steel shields—braced for the onslaught.

“Your Highness, it’s about time I…”

His own Holy Knight asked permission. The only force that could break the encirclement had to be eliminated. That resolve burned in his eyes.

“Your real first battle, huh? Go.”

The Chevalier nodded.

“HAaaaaah!”

Holy Knight Paladin Gratina Wackenheim used an enemy shield as a springboard and vaulted the barricade. No human jump. Mid-air twist, sword sliced through the spears above. The instant she landed, five heads flew. Blood fountained. The men froze in horror. Gratina dashed toward her own lines, carving a path. But shields closed in. Spears thrust from every direction. She split her legs wide, dropped low, dodged, then cut crossed spears with her right blade while pivoting on her left arm into a handstand spin. Legs still spread, she whirled like a top, kicking shields away, then launched again on left-arm strength alone.

“M-monster…”

In the enemy’s stunned gap she blasted another shield aside. Breakthrough. Phalanx troops poured through. What they saw next was despair. Fresh steel shields and barricades had already reformed.

“On the palm of his hand, huh…”

Walter clicked his tongue. But he wasn’t giving up. His Holy Knight was unharmed. Do it again. Gratina clearly thought the same—she was already sprinting. She leapt over the next wall of spears. Silver-haired beauty soaring gracefully—then a golden-haired beauty launched at the exact same height and slashed at her. Gratina barely blocked, slammed to the ground. She looked up. On the shield wall stood a golden-haired woman, armor barely covering shoulders and elbows, silver sword in one hand, other on her hip, looking down like she owned the sky.

“Holy Knight Paladin Gratina Wackenheim, I presume. I am Aisis Elenskaya, Austro Tolmakia’s Holy Knight Paladin. I’ll be your opponent.”

“So you’re Holy Knight Aisis Elenskaya… I know the name. First time we meet face to face though.”

The golden-haired knight dropped lightly to the ground and closed at inhuman speed. Gratina charged too. Holy Knight versus Holy Knight. Swords sparked. Legs slammed trying to kick the other off balance. They parted a split second, then crashed together again. Watching, Walter Wackenheim’s brow furrowed.

“Equal with Tina? Austro Tolmakia… you were hiding her for today! In that case—”

Walter rode to Phalanx.

“General. Enemy Paladin has appeared. We’ve lost momentum. At this point the only path is to sacrifice and open a rear escape. Me and Gratina will break through behind us. Then retreat—”

Phalanx only gave a sideways glare and shook his head.

“Then you two retreat alone. With your strength it’s more than possible.”

“General Phalanx!”

Ignoring the shout, Phalanx stared forward and murmured. Amid the battlefield roar the words should have been lost, yet Walter heard them clear.

“The era is changing. Strategy, brute strength of warriors, heroes and Holy Knights… The age of fighters ends. Now numbers and weapons decide victory. A cold, joyless kind of war…”

Phalanx swung his spear once. Wind whistled. Warrior light flared in his eyes.

“Nfufufu… No joke. I refuse to lose to a toy like that. Bows are fine. Catapults I’ll allow. But that? Never. Accept that and we become nothing but murderers!”

Not the words of a general. The pride of a warrior who had lived through the age. Walter said nothing. He simply saluted, pulled his horse alongside.

“Then we ride with you. Let’s fight until our hearts are content.”

He told Phalanx, then looked up at the endless blue sky. Peaceful. He kicked his horse’s flanks. Roared with the men. No calculations. Just raw power in every limb. They slammed into the iron wall.

“Close…”

Austro Tolmakia murmured, watching the fierce fighting ahead. He had faced Phalanx many times as imperial general and never once hated him. If anything he respected the man.

Some in the imperial army still refused to accept cannons. But Austro was Crown Prince. Future emperor. He couldn’t judge by warrior pride alone. To bring peace to the empire he needed overwhelming force. And for that he needed Belgarad Phalanx’s head.

“We have them fully surrounded. Phalanx’s movement has stopped. They’re forming a circle. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Once Phalanx falls the rest will surrender. No harm to those who yield. Treat the wounded properly. And handle the dead with every courtesy…”

Partina bowed silently. Then urgent news arrived.

It wasn’t Austro’s fault. Every soul at imperial headquarters believed victory was theirs. Soldiers dreamed of triumph rewards. Officers pictured promotions. Maybe that’s why the report hit like a bomb.

“Report! Enemy cavalry approaching from left-rear flank! Estimated two thousand!”

“What?!”

Austro’s face twisted in shock. He rode personally with Partina and staff to confirm. The scale of the dust cloud, the banners—they made him bite his lip.

“Dust indicates cavalry, roughly two thousand. Problem is five Chevalier banners among them. But impossible. Two thousand riders should have been spotted. Decoy, right?”

Partina didn’t need to say it—Austro already felt it. The dust cloud kept coming. Soon the lead riders appeared, straight at them, one kilometer out. Squinting, he spotted four female figures behind the lead rider. Other staff noticed too.

“Women. Can’t tell if they’re Paladins but…”

“Your Highness, orders?”

“…Let them close to five hundred meters.”

“But two thousand cavalry plus five Paladins hitting our rear will collapse us. Phalanx’s circle is solid—breaking it takes time. Pull the left wing back and prepare—”

He knew all that. But Austro refused to accept it. Everything had gone perfectly until the very end. If he broke the encirclement now, let Phalanx escape, and the mystery cavalry was a feint… the taste of defeat would linger. Unacceptable.

“Your Highness! We’ve already won! The objective—control of this land—is achieved. Even if Phalanx escapes, victory remains ours. Are you really going to get greedy and throw it away?!”

“Kh… Left wing, orders—prepare for rear attack!”

At the supreme commander’s command the encirclement around Phalanx loosened. Imperial and kingdom soldiers alike had no idea what was happening. Field officers were lost, but orders were orders. Left-wing troops pulled back fast. Phalanx wasn’t one to miss it.

“Single-point breakthrough! We’re pulling out!”

Phalanx troops concentrated and punched through the thinned wall, then began full retreat toward their own lines. No pursuit came. New orders, plus the enemy was exhausted from fighting Phalanx troops. Same for Phalanx’s side—three thousand down to half, every man wounded.

“W-what the hell just happened…”

Bloodied staff officers panted. Two arrows stuck from Walter’s shoulder. Gratina’s face had several cuts; blood ran from her upper arm and thigh. Phalanx had lost his left eye. Everyone was wrecked, yet they only had strength left to run. No one answered the mutter.

“Kaito! Enemy’s moving!”

Kaito’s riders saw the imperial lines shift. He raised his left hand—halt. They were still dozens of meters from the five-hundred-meter retreat line he’d set in his head.

“Good. Everyone, cut the ropes. We run!”

They had tied branches to horses and dragged them wide to kick up massive dust—like two thousand riders. From here they couldn’t see if Phalanx held. Only luck now.

Wind blew. Dust cleared. A hundred riders appeared.

“…Just as I thought—a feint! All units, pursue—”

“Stop!”

Partina started to order. Austro cut her off. He rode forward and stared at the man on horseback five hundred meters away.

“…This battle is over. More fighting is pointless. Besides—who is that man?”

The rider stared back at the imperial army a moment, then wheeled his horse and vanished. Austro kept watching that back until it disappeared.