Following the principle that if someone else had something good, he ought to have one too, Leo found it genuinely difficult to suppress his desire to possess a cannon. The most dazzling moment at the height of the battle had undoubtedly been the lancers' thrust.
Taking advantage of the explosive chaos created by their charge, Leo decided to fish in troubled waters. And if he was going fishing, he was going after the biggest fish.
Leo charged straight toward the cannon whose carriage he had just smashed apart. It stood in the gap between two West Empire formations, both of which were still in disorder. He had a brief window to accomplish what he wanted. Leaning down, he scooped up his war hammer and struck several times in succession, knocking the barrel completely free of its carriage.
The light three-pound falconet was four feet (1.2 meters) long and weighed five hundred pounds (220 kilograms). It was an excellent field gun. In sieges and naval battles, the raw power of artillery was crucial, so siege guns generally had enormous calibers. On a field battlefield, however, what mattered most was whether a cannon could reach the place where it was needed in time. That made light artillery the preferred choice for field battles.
By now, Catherine had cleared away the enemies around her. Leo had thrown his long shield to her so she at least had the means to protect herself. There was now something in Leo's eyes more important than the Count of Blackport's second-in-line heir.
Switching his war hammer to his left hand, Leo leaned to the right and wrapped an arm around the three-pounder, every detail of which radiated temptation. His D-Grade Cipher spell activated. The cannon's weight dropped from 220 kilograms to a little over sixty—roughly the weight of an adult man. Without looking back, Leo hoisted the three-pounder onto himself and began retreating toward the right side of the battlefield.
No guns, no cannons—the enemy will make them for us!
Who had come up with such a profoundly philosophical lyric? That fine old tradition of the rabbits from the Flower-Growing Nation in his former world had become the brightest spectacle of this battle.
The barrel was cast from bronze. The copper in the barrel alone was worth sixty gold pounds, and once the casting workmanship was included, its value approached one hundred gold pounds.
The West Empire had made a mistake born of experience: cannons belonged on carriages, cannons were hauled by draft horses, cannons were extremely heavy... In short, cannons were not supposed to be carried away on someone's shoulder like the one they were watching now. Queen Margaret above—a man from Blackport County was stealing your most precious treasure!
When Catherine turned around, she stared in astonishment. Leo East behind her was actually carrying a thick bronze column—the very new weapon that had just inflicted such terrible damage on them.
Her fear of the new weapon had now transformed completely into disbelief. Why did Leo East, who had been so quiet and inconspicuous at the Military Academy, keep astonishing her today? From killing Koliver Enwey, to the choices he had made throughout the fighting, to the bronze-column weapon now on his shoulder... Could this be what the instructors meant when they said some people were simply born for the battlefield—natural geniuses of war?
Leo, meanwhile, was frowning inside his helmet. He could not tell whether it was psychological or whether the warhorse beneath him was already growing tired, but he felt as though it had slowed down. The extra weight of another person had robbed the horse of its advantage in speed. Leo fell behind Catherine and became the last cavalryman to disengage from the battlefield.
His escape was never going to be that easy. Gunshots sounded behind him, followed by the distinctive hiss of crossbow bolts cutting through the air. Four lead balls struck Leo's backplate. His back armor, reinforced by his Cipher spell, stopped the balls, but four heavy impacts slammed into him in rapid succession. They nearly knocked him from his horse.
Another lead ball struck his helmet, leaving his head ringing. Fortunately, a matchlock ball was roughly equivalent to the attack of a D-Grade Haste spell and could not inflict substantial harm on Leo. Ignoring everything else, Leo threw away his war hammer and freed his left hand. He slung the falconet diagonally across his back, gripping the muzzle with his left hand while reaching his right arm behind him around the barrel, using the cannon to shield as much of his back and head as possible.
The West Empire's left wing had already been completely shattered, so nothing blocked Leo's escape route ahead. The danger came mainly from behind. In an instant, no fewer than four crossbow bolts struck him. Three buried themselves in his backplate but failed to penetrate the plate armor and therefore did him no harm. Those were probably bolts fired by D-Grade Haste Mages.
The fourth bolt, however, produced a distinctly different shriek through the air and nearly dealt Leo an injury his life could not withstand. The moment Leo saw the bolt leave the hands of an obviously high-ranking West Empire officer, he knew disaster was unavoidable.
A C-Grade Haste Mage!
The bolt curved around the falconet across Leo's back and flew straight toward the spot behind his heart. Leo twisted his body to the right as hard as he could. At the same time, he shifted the barrel diagonally across his back, trying to cover his heart with it.
The twenty-centimeter all-metal crossbow bolt tore through Leo's backplate. Even plate armor at four times normal density could not withstand a bolt fired by a C-Grade Haste Mage!
At that moment, Leo had reason to be grateful for this temporary spare suit of armor. It did not fit him well and made him look a size larger than he really was. Inside it, Leo pressed himself hard against the right side, leaving nearly eight centimeters of empty space on his left.
The bolt stabbed viciously along the outer edge of the ribs beneath Leo's armpit. Had it gone just one centimeter farther inward, it would have pierced his chest. Even so, a long wound had been carved from back to front along the outermost edge of his left ribs. The bolt then punched through the front of his breastplate as well, its point emerging from the armor over his chest.
Leo looked down. The blood coating the arrowhead was contracting under the surface tension of the liquid. Like a pattern forming by itself, it drew together into a web of blood over the point, exposing patches of metallic sheen beneath. As the horse ran, several dark-red drops of blood were flung from the arrowhead.
At first, under the effects of adrenaline, the area beneath Leo's left ribs was numb. He felt no pain. Then came coldness, as though something beneath his ribs were draining away. After that, the jolting of the horse shook the part of the bolt still lodged through his armor. Its shaft scraped viciously against the wound.
The wound began to burn. Agony... Leo could feel his strength draining away. His left hand could no longer hold the cannon barrel. With a hoarse roar, he used the last of his strength to swing the barrel around in front of him and lay it crosswise over the horse's back.
Then his mind went completely blank. He kept telling himself not to think about the wound under his arm and along his ribs. As long as he made it back, he could still be saved... This was war. Anyone could die. Even a transmigrator could die. If Leo had not become a D-Grade Cipher Mage, he would already have died during the first half of the charge.
His warhorse raced toward the Unicorn Legion with the remaining cavalry. Catherine saw the crossbow bolt protruding through the left side of Leo's chest and turned her horse toward him. She threw away the long shield and reached out to brace Leo by the shoulder, keeping him from falling from his horse. Leo did not even notice.
The horses began to slow. Gradually, Leo's awareness returned, and he regained control of his mind and body. It was somewhat embarrassing to admit, but that feeling of his mind going completely blank just now had perhaps... possibly... probably been because he was scared?
Not long afterward, the second wave of lancers—the cavalry from the other counties, including Caleb Winifred—also returned from their attack and regrouped beside the infantry brigade. The first wave, Blackport County's cavalry, had almost destroyed half of the West artillery and half of its left wing, so the second wave from the other counties had faced much less pressure.
Of the forty cavalrymen from the other counties, a full thirty returned. Of Blackport County's sixty cavalrymen, half were gone. After the two cavalry charges, the West Empire's landing force began to withdraw. The Count of Blackport did not appear to have any intention of pursuing them.
Everyone relaxed at once. Some of the cavalrymen lying on the battlefield were not yet dead. Small groups of Unicorn Legion infantry had already gone out to clear the field. By tacit agreement, neither side chose to continue fighting.
Standing high on the distant bow of a ship, Vice Admiral Helena Augusta looked toward the shore and said, “We lost a cannon... That Cipher Mage is certainly memorable. I didn't expect the Audrian Continent, rotted by indulgence as it is, to be somewhat stronger than we imagined...”
Seeing the atmosphere ease, Leo quickly removed his helmet so he could gulp down air. It also let everyone see his face. Come on, then. Worship him to your hearts' content. This was the real man who had carried back the West Empire's new weapon.
Unfortunately, one very inappropriate voice suddenly shouted, “Leo! Are you dying? Your heart's been pierced through!”
Brad Baker had also thrown away his helmet. He jumped from his warhorse and ran quickly to Leo's side. Leo stared in some surprise at the completely unscathed Brad. Some people really did have fool's luck.
“Brad! Stop shaking my leg! You're pulling at my wound! Help me off the horse!” Hearing how strong Leo's voice still sounded, Brad finally relaxed and hurried to help him dismount. Good heavens. One roommate had just died. His only remaining roommate absolutely could not die too... Brad thought.
At the same time, Catherine called over two knight retainers who had been waiting nearby and tried to have them lift the falconet off the horse. While Leo's Cipher mana was flowing into it, the cannon weighed only a little over sixty kilograms. The moment Leo let go, however, it weighed the full 220 kilograms.
“You two can't lift it. Get ropes and poles. Tie it securely and have four men carry it!” Leo dropped the falconet to the ground, and a full third of the barrel sank into the sand.
The two retainers looked at Catherine and waited for her orders. They were Catherine's retainers, after all. Catherine said, “Do as Mr. Leo East instructed.” The two hurried off to call others over to help.
With Brad's assistance, Leo began removing his knight's armor. The armor was complicated to put on and required assistance; taking it off was just as troublesome. If they handled it badly, they tugged at Leo's wound, bringing sweat to his forehead.
Catherine walked over to the two men as they fumbled around, motioned for Brad to move aside, and prepared to do it herself. Whatever else you might say, you had to trust a woman's talent for taking clothes off.
Comments