MrJazsohanisharma

I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Revolution Era - The Witch of the Storm

In the capital Lumière, reinforcements drafted were allocated to the northern and southern forces, each swelling their ranks to 19,500.

With Archduke Leopold’s move to Lorraine, the revolutionary forces, now 39,000 strong, found themselves clashing with an enemy 40,000 in number.

At first glance, the forces seemed relatively even, but an urgent piece of news soon gave us a headache.

“Imperial Guard Mage Unit? Was there such a unit in the empire?”

At the strategy meeting with the revolutionary leadership gathered, Raphael Ballian furrowed his brow in question.

At least, this is a unit that did not exist until the fight against the Kingdom of Francia and the Kingdom of Krafte. Naturally, there was little known about it.

“The information is reliable. It’s said to be an organization composed of powerful mages.”

This was urgent news sent from Christine in the capital.

The information was obtained through trade with the Aquitaine Merchants’ Guild, currently in dealings with the Holy Church, and Christine had verified it, so its reliability was beyond doubt.

“There are about 20 of them. Mostly empire nobles who studied abroad in the Mage Kingdom of Holland, along with mages hired for money or titles.”

“Mage Kingdom origin, you say.”

Ballian stroked his chin thoughtfully, his expression souring.

Ballian, a mercenary through and through, was naturally ignorant about the weaponry of high-ranking individuals like mages.

Everyone dreams of becoming a knight, so the magicians are talented commoners, but the same goes for us, the nobles of Francia, who use them in moderation.

“...So, how much of a threat do they pose, exactly?”

At the question from Alexandre Werther, the chief of staff of the northern army, silence enveloped the room.

That was the problem—no one knew.

We needed to know the extent of their threat, or at the very least, what they were capable of, to devise a countermeasure.

The most we knew about Francia mages was their ability to call down a deluge from the sky to prevent the use of gunpowder in a small area or to incinerate clustered troops.

The mages from the Mage Kingdom are renowned for their skills, but fundamentally, they are people who prefer research over combat, making them rare sights on the battlefield.

“First off, the leader of their group, Wilhelmina von Weinfeldt, was the top student during her time at the Magic Kingdom’s university and has been nicknamed ‘The Witch of the Storm.’ ...Such nicknames are only given to mages recognized as sage-level. There are only three sages in this era.”

Christine had shared this information, having established connections with the Mage Kingdom to enroll Louis, but honestly, it’s hard to grasp the full significance.

“A sage, huh. Hmm, I’ve heard old tales about the magic unleashed by sages.”

Everyone chuckled at Dezy's comment.

Those stories are often so fantastical that they’re problematic.

Tales of a meteor brought down to shatter city walls in one blow, floods summoned from the bare ground, or immense flames conjured to engulf entire forests in an instant...

They’re not much different from the exaggerated myths of ancient heroes.

Why would one of the top talents from the Mage Kingdom, of all people, come to such a battlefield?

They could easily make a fortune just by comfortably conducting research, publishing papers, teaching students, and crafting artifacts.

I sighed lightly and traced my finger over Wilhelmina’s name noted in the report Christine had sent.

“The Witch of the Storm. ...Such a nickname wouldn’t be given to a sage-level mage without reason. It must be related to her abilities.”

The commanders of the revolutionary forces exchanged serious glances and each offered a thought.

“Did she earn it by unleashing magic like a storm?”

“Just the thought is terrifying. Perhaps she specializes in wind magic.”

“Hmm. How on earth are we supposed to counter that?”

As everyone looked troubled, Damien de Mirbo tentatively raised his hand and spoke up.

“Or, what if she really can summon storms with her magic?”

Silence fell for a moment.

Soon after, snickers erupted here and there.

“Pfft, haha. That sounds like something straight out of a myth.”

“Right, if the Mage Kingdom had such power, why haven’t they conquered the world already?”

Damien put his hand down with a disgruntled look, but I couldn’t help feeling a chill run down my spine.

That person might look like that, but he’s surprisingly sharp. Calling forth a storm?

...No way.

But then again, it’s not just a matter of ‘no way.’ If she really does something like that, how are we supposed to counter it?

Ballian and I looked at each other.

We both looked like we were seeing our doom, and I probably had the same expression on my face.

“...For now, we have no choice but to fight. I have a request, General Lafayette.”

“Speak, General Ballian.”

“How about dispersing the knights and placing them in each regiment? If they happen to launch a magical attack, we hardly have any means to defend against it, but knights could at least respond to some extent.”

“...Hmm.”

Originally, knights lead the heavy cavalry, but using them as a defense against magic.

However, indeed, considering our almost non-existent magical forces, this might be an effective countermeasure against their mages.

“Let’s put it on the tab.”

Ballian gave a bitter smile.

“Ah, this makes it twice already.”

“Anyway, we’re not fully aware of the enemy’s capabilities. In this battle, consider retreating before the damage escalates if necessary.”

Spreading out the knights and with the support of my sniping, along with Eris and our mages, we might be able to respond to some extent.

...We should be able to.

***

Ballian and I tried several times to disperse or lure the enemy, but maybe because Duke Karl was in command, the enemy didn’t fall for such tricks.

Eventually, the enemy completed their consolidation and maneuvered, and we had no choice but to face them to protect Bahua.

On a clear, sunny day.

Under the summer sun, nearly 80,000 troops from both sides filled the plains.

Tens of thousands of men in white uniforms surged like waves, and from our side, tens of thousands in blue uniforms advanced, creating a spectacular scene on the battlefield.

While the cannons from both sides played a relentless cacophony of artillery fire, I, like the other knights, was at the forefront of the formation on horseback.

Glancing back, I could see Raphael Ballian far away, frantically busy with overall command.

Though temporarily taking over the command of the Southern army, I had to play every card we had.

I’m fairly confident in my archery skills.

An arrow imbued with my magic can pierce through not just an amateur mage’s spells but even soldiers attempting to shield themselves.

That’s why I had hoped it would be somewhat effective against the Imperial Guard Mage Unit they’ve brought as their secret weapon.

With that thought, I urgently grabbed the reins tighter and kicked my horse’s flanks.

Just as my horse neighed and leaped forward unexpectedly, a cannonball whistled past, slicing through the air beside us.

Screams and the terrible sound of something breaking and snapping came from behind.

Cold sweat trickled down.

Damn, I nearly met a miserable end.

Thinking of Eris being out here in this environment makes me uneasy...

-“I may not look it, but I’m a saintess. Blind cannonballs will be stopped by God.”

-“...I thought you didn’t believe in God, Saintess.”

-“Hmm. Hmm- Maybe I’ll start believing today?”

...Recalling my conversation with Eris before the battle started only made me more anxious.

My reverie was cut short by the sound of trumpets.

From the northern army’s formation, I saw light infantry armed with muskets, the chasseurs, advancing in unison.

These must be the same troops Ballian used when he captured the knights of Duke Lorraine.

As both sides’ line infantry advanced towards each other, the leading chasseurs lowered their stance and began firing in scattered positions.

Looking through my telescope, I saw soldiers falling here and there within the enemy ranks.

Perhaps because these soldiers were trained for aimed musket fire, they seemed to manage well, hitting their targets from beyond the engagement distance of the line infantry, even while hit-and-run tactics.

I might need to consider training some light infantry like Ballian has.

At any rate, the artillery duel was evenly matched, and Ballian’s light infantry was already chipping away at the enemy’s strength with their hit-and-run tactics.

The flow of the early battle isn’t too bad...

I shifted my telescope.

Finding the enemy mages wasn’t too difficult.

Even from a distance, their flamboyant and diverse robes made them stand out.

The problem was the distinct gestures they were making.

Could they be casting spells from that distance?

The skirmishers have already advanced, but the distance between the two armies is still well over 300 meters.

From a range where even my arrows wouldn’t reach?

Just as I had that thought, one of the mages conjured a fireball and hurled it forward.

***

“To think that I, who even served as the deputy commander of the southern forces, would be out here in the front lines...”

Damien de Mirbo grumbled as he watched Ballian’s skirmishers hit and run against the enemy infantry.

Knights dealing with incoming magic because the enemy has mages?

It seemed like a mockery, using nobles and knights like him as mere escorts for common soldiers.

Just as he had this thought, a fireball was launched from the enemy lines.

And it began hurtling straight towards Damien’s location.

“Damn it, me first?”

Damien quickly drew his sword and imbued it with magic.

He spurred his horse forward, intending to approach the incoming fireball as he would usually confront mages on the battlefield, but-

“...What?”

From a distance, he hadn’t realized, but the fireball was about twice the size of Damien on his horse.

“How am I supposed to block this!”

Damien screamed, but he needn’t have worried about blocking it.

The fireball, arching high in the sky, flew over Damien’s head at a height his sword couldn’t reach and plunged into the infantry advancing ahead.

Despite passing high above, the scorching heat was palpable, making Damien shrink his shoulders as cries of terror erupted from the infantry.

“Huh!”

The infantrymen tried to scatter and evade the massive fireball, but it exploded upon impact with their formation before they could get away.

“Aaaaargh!”

“It’s hot! It’s hot! Aaaagh!”

Watching dozens of men engulfed in flames and writhing to their deaths, Damien turned away with a pale face, only to witness more fireballs covering the sky, flying towards them.

***

“Damn it, to hell with this!”

Are these mages?

They’re on a whole different level from the mages we’ve known so far!

I desperately spurred my horse, racing towards Ballian amidst the chaos.

As I did, fireballs continued to spew their scorching heat, flying right over my head.

How are we supposed to counter such monstrosities?

“Ah, ahhhh!”

“Run away!”

“Save me, save meeee!”

The infantry formation had already descended into complete disarray.

Just as the troops were panicking and falling apart even before engaging with the enemy, a curtain of golden light appeared in the sky, causing the incoming fireballs to explode into sparks upon impact.

There’s only one person who could do this.

“Eris!”

From afar, behind the infantry, I saw Eris, staggering as she held her hands up towards the sky.

“What, what’s happening?”

“It’s the Saint! The Saint is protecting us!”

“Hold the line! Don’t run! The Saint is watching over us!”

“Ohhhh, God is great!”

The soldiers, exhilarated by the miracle that had just occurred, were babbling excitedly, while commanders and knights scrambled to rally them with any words they could muster.

Eris, seemingly buoyed by their shouts, tried to stand upright with the help of Sir Beaumont, pretending as if nothing was amiss.

I bit my lip.

It was a relief that Eris was here on the battlefield.

But how many more such spells could those mages cast? How much longer could Eris hold out?

Just as I had that thought, I felt a chilling sensation as if all the magic in my body was standing on end, and I quickly turned around.

In the middle of the enemy lines, likely near their command post at the very rear, a mage was floating slightly above the ground.

Raising my telescope, I could clearly see that mage at the center, with several others assisting, as the ambient magical energy converged towards the mage in the air.

What is that?

The flow was so intense that I could visually see the ambient magical energy being drawn out, with something taking shape in the empty space around the floating mage.

It appeared to be a magical circle, woven out of glowing magical threads, a realization that dawned on me slightly later.

From above the mage’s head, the circle began to form, slowly completing itself as it spiraled clockwise.

I drove my horse madly towards Ballian.

“General, are you seeing this?”

“I am. I’ve ordered the artillery to concentrate fire, but...”

No sooner had Ballian finished speaking than the cannons roared, launching their shells. However, hitting a single human floating in the distant sky proved far beyond the dismal accuracy of the cannons.

Besides, even if we hit, could we penetrate that immense magical energy and kill him?

What kind of spell could possibly require such a tremendous gathering of magical power?

In the chaos of my rush to Ballian, the magic circle had reached about a third of its completion.

In the meantime, another volley of scorching fireballs flew from the enemy lines, only to be shattered again by a barrier of golden light.

Below, our mages clustered around a staggering Eris, trying to support her as much as they could.

Damn it, it’s clear Eris is at her limit.

“The strategy has completely failed. This is beyond what the knights can defend against. Even if we attempt a full-frontal battle, we have no idea what that mage is preparing.”

“Ugh...”

“We should retreat. If we keep this up without a plan, the casualties will snowball.”

“Damn it...”

Retreating now would mean relinquishing Bahua, which Ballian had managed to capture in the previous battle.

Aware of this, Ballian grimaced.

“We can retake land if we preserve our forces. But if we lose our soldiers, we lose everything.”

“Alright. General Lafayette, let’s pull back.”

The retreat signal sounded.

“The cavalry will hold off the enemy’s light cavalry!”

The infantry, advancing towards the enemy, immediately turned back, and the cavalry, upon receiving their orders, charged out.

While our artillerymen scrambled to relocate the cannons they had deployed, enemy shells relentlessly bombarded our infantry lines.

Ballian and I could only watch the scene, biting our lips in frustration, feeling utterly powerless.

As time passed and both cavalries engaged in a standoff, the enemy mage’s magic circle was nearing completion just as we finished our withdrawal preparations.

“How the hell are we supposed to deal with those damned things?”

Just as our artillery began to retreat and our main forces were pulling back, dark clouds started to gather in the sky.

“...No way.”

The sky was quickly shrouded in darkness.

“What’s happening?”

“God, what is this...?”

Suddenly, a torrential downpour began from the pitch-black sky.

- Or, what if she really can summon storms with her magic.

Damn it, crazy. Damien’s cursed words have come true.

As if half the sky was sliced off, only our side was under a dark cloud pouring rain, while next to us, under a still clear sky, the advancing enemy forces seemed almost surreal.

Then, thunder roared.

Not just once, but repeatedly.

With the fierce thunder, lightning struck down, slicing through the units that were unfortunate enough to retreat late, now floundering in the mud turned battlefields by the downpour.

The sound of screams was drowned out by the thunder.

The cries of the soldiers, the shouts of the commanders, none of it could be heard.

An overwhelming natural disaster engulfs powerless humans, beyond any resistance.

That’s the Witch of the Storm.

If we had hesitated and not retreated, that would have struck down upon all of us.

Amidst the chilling realization, Ballian, with a pale face, looked back at the catastrophe behind and muttered softly.

“...Damn... Fuck. War’s a bitch.”

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