Command

"How long has it been since the Tenth Battalion set out?" Count Perez asked his aides.

"It's the second day," someone replied.

"That was quick… or is it that the barbarians were just that weak?" Although Count Perez voiced his doubts, he was, in fact, quite excited.

"Tell Knight Derek that I'm giving him credit for the first victory," the Count said, standing up and pacing around before sitting back down. "Have him send the severed heads and prisoners here. And… assign this area to him as well."

Once the messenger had left, the Count turned his attention back to the map. If the other battalions had similar success, there would be plenty of opportunities to capitalize on this.

…

When Derek received the new orders, the captured heads were already on their way to the command post. It was impossible to keep all the spoils for himself, of course. However, by sending the severed heads and prisoners back, the other spoils could be kept—an unspoken understanding.

There might even be a share in future distributions or perhaps the spoils could be converted into military merits. Despite this early victory and the substantial spoils, Derek knew it wasn't enough to rest on.

After a day of rest, Derek left behind some of the wounded and set out once again. The new mission area was larger and closer to the main barbarian force, making it significantly more dangerous.

Once again, Simon led the cavalry ahead to scout. Derek was fortunate to have the luxury of assigning this task to elite knights; normally, such forces wouldn't be used for this purpose.

"The situation is worse than we thought. At least half of the villages have been overrun, and even some towns have been looted. There's currently a group of several hundred barbarians stationed in Three Rivers Town," Simon reported back with grim news. As expected, the closer they got to the main barbarian army, the more enemies they encountered.

The barbarians had taken over a town, meaning they had access to basic facilities, making a direct assault costly in terms of casualties. Furthermore, this group of barbarians seemed to have unified command; regardless of the leader's skill, they wouldn't be easily intimidated.

It was like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over Derek, snapping him back to reality. Some of his earlier thoughts now seemed more like wishful thinking.

While it's said that kindness doesn't befit a commander, Derek realized that forcing his way through this tough battle would only leave his forces depleted—what would happen next?

He didn't believe for a second that securing a victory against this group of barbarians, while suffering heavy losses, would result in any great reward.

"Let's first deal with the smaller barbarian groups nearby!" Derek decided to set up camp right next to the larger barbarian force.

The barbarians tried to attack the Tenth Battalion before they could establish themselves. Unfortunately for them, they were met with a well-prepared Derek, who gave them a sound beating. After losing thirty to fifty men, the barbarians retreated in disgrace.

Derek then sent his cavalry out on a frenzied series of raids, with elite infantry units taking turns following closely behind. The small barbarian groups of a few dozen men each stood no chance and were quickly overwhelmed.

The barbarians attempted another cavalry assault, hoping to break the deadlock. But Derek's tightly-formed infantry formations held firm, pushing them back once again.

The two sides traded blows, each suffering some losses, gaining a clearer understanding of each other's strength.

"Where did these troops come from? Why are they so much tougher than the ones we've faced before?" Barbarian leader Donik stood on a low wooden palisade, eyeing the Rock soldiers. Some were even calm enough to continue training. Had he not been beaten back in every skirmish, Donik would have led his men out in an attack by now.

Though the barbarian king had granted him the title of baron, as the head of a small tribe, Donik still organized his people in traditional tribal ways.

"The chief's orders are to delay the Rock forces' progress. We don't need to leave the town," Donik reassured himself, though he would never admit he was afraid of the enemy. Tribal warriors had much stronger cohesion, but as the leader, he couldn't afford to lose too many of his people. Otherwise, his tribe could easily be swallowed up by others.

The barbarian kingdom still retained the primitive tribal system, unlike the Rock Kingdom, where the noble Senate safeguarded inheritance rights.

With the barbarians holed up in the town, Derek didn't hesitate to sweep up the smaller groups around them, even moving past their defensive lines to operate near Ironwall City. From there, Ironwall was only a three-day journey north. The barbarian army wasn't far away.

The closer they got, the more barbarians they encountered, and more towns and villages had been destroyed. Though there were no major victories, the frequent Rock Kingdom raids could not go unnoticed by the barbarian camp.

The pressure fell entirely on the barbarian leader's shoulders. Despite launching several assaults, he still couldn't defeat Derek's smaller force.

As time passed, the other battalions also advanced, pushing close to the front lines. One or two battalions even launched fierce attacks, reclaiming lost ground at the cost of heavy casualties. The others began to mimic Derek's tactics of relentless harassment.

It was clear that the number of barbarian troops still active outside had decreased significantly, even affecting the siege on Ironwall City.

Derek's forces managed to claim another hundred or so heads. Then… a new army arrived.

"Oli Palmer, Centurion of the Eighth Battalion, Northern Province Provisional First Legion." The man in front of Derek had the title of baron but looked more like a merchant than a soldier.

Derek quickly made a simple assessment.

"Greetings, Baron. I'm Derek von Rock, Centurion of the Tenth Battalion, Northern Province Provisional Second Legion."

After a brief introduction, Baron Palmer presented Count Pereira's orders.

"Our task is to break through this town and continue advancing."

"What's the objective? How far are we supposed to advance?" Derek asked.

"As far as possible. If we can reach Ironwall City, all the better." Palmer's expression was one of resignation, showing he clearly understood the risks involved in the order.

"Knight Derek, we need to watch each other's backs this time. We can't afford to fall here," Palmer said, clearly uneasy. He knew they were being used as bait, and one wrong move could spell disaster.

But Derek saw an opportunity in the situation.

"The first thing we need to do is deal with the enemy in front of us," Derek said with determination. He had learned a lot over the past few days, and he had a good understanding of the situation in the town.

"There are only about five hundred barbarians in the town, and after several defeats, their morale is low. A strong attack should be enough to take it."

Derek was confident. Hearing this, Baron Palmer brightened up.

"In that case, why don't we each take a direction and attack together? We should be able to take the town quickly, right?"

Derek realized that Palmer truly had no military experience.

"Surrounding three sides and leaving one open is a basic tactic. If the enemy realizes there's no escape, they might fight to the death. Even if we win, the cost would be heavy," Derek subtly reminded him.

Baron Palmer, though inexperienced, was no fool. He quickly understood Derek's point and admitted honestly, "You're right. To be honest, this is my first time—and my family's first time—participating in a war."

He wasn't sure what he had said wrong, but he knew it was best to let the experts handle things. So he offered, "Knight Derek, why don't you take command this time? I've heard you served in the Pereira Knights. I'd love to see the skills of a Northern knight in action."

Command is a delicate subject. Even among brothers, it should be handled with care, let alone between strangers. Derek, however, overlooked a crucial detail: in an era where knowledge is immensely valuable, military knowledge is no exception. For instance, the Order of Knights under Count Pereira only teaches the basics, while the advanced military secrets passed down by noble families are closely guarded. A new noble like Baron Palmer, lacking generations of military experience and the hard-earned, blood-soaked knowledge that comes with it, is at a severe disadvantage.

Baron Palmer had tried his best to recruit knights but struggled to maintain his army, and when it came to advanced tactics, he was essentially guessing. So, when he speculated about the plans of the higher-ups in the legion, he lost confidence. He wasn't arrogant enough to think war was merely a numbers game or that he was a military genius. The more likely scenario was that he was simply inexperienced. Thus, when he met Derek and learned about his background, Palmer chose to trust him out of necessity. Derek hesitated briefly before agreeing. "Thank you for this opportunity," he said, showing no signs of pushing his advantage or mocking Palmer.

Derek quickly took command of the 8th Battalion of the 1st Legion, except for Baron Palmer's personal guard. His approach was straightforward—he sent his knight attendants to temporarily take command of each unit. This move made Baron Palmer envious as he noticed these knight attendants were far more capable than his own recruits. "So, this is what it means to be a military noble?" Palmer thought, forming a misconception about the elite soldiers. With that, the last of his doubts were temporarily set aside.

The infantry outside the town had been working on makeshift siege equipment. At dawn, Derek began assigning tasks, splitting the remaining forces into four groups, mixing elite soldiers with regular troops. As the commander, Derek aimed to minimize casualties on his side. Palmer observed, hoping to learn something, and realized that Derek's level of command was beyond the average person's capabilities.

Derek kept a few hundred-man squads as reserves while assigning five hundred-man squads to three sides, leaving the northern side undefended. Five hundred barbarians couldn't hold the town, so the only question was the cost in casualties. Derek ordered a direct assault, using the lives of his men to create momentum and buy time. Attacking from three sides simultaneously, the taskmasters enforced discipline behind the lines. The front ranks, though somewhat disorganized, maintained basic order. Derek used the 8th Battalion as cannon fodder, showing no mercy.

A few of Palmer's officers wanted to protest, but he silenced them, acknowledging the cost of learning. "Baron Palmer, the first wave is just to probe their defenses. The real assault will be carried out by the elite infantry," Derek explained. His tone was harsher than before, making it clear that the 8th Battalion was only fit to be used as cannon fodder. Palmer was not pleased but asked how long it would take to break through. Derek replied that it depended on the barbarians' will to fight. If their morale was low, they would breach by nightfall; if high, it might take until the next day.

Derek didn't elaborate, but he knew that if he were willing to accept more casualties, the siege could be completed faster. War, despite its apparent complexity, is actually quite simple—will to fight, numbers, training, and morale all determine victory or defeat. With the small number of barbarians, they wouldn't last long. Derek observed the battlefield from his elevated position, realizing that the 8th Battalion's losses had successfully tested the enemy's strength.

The barbarian commander had some skill but employed rigid tactics. Derek ordered increased pressure on the eastern side. The elite hundred-man squad, composed of Derek's seasoned troops and newly integrated into the 10th Battalion, moved out and scaled the wooden walls with ease. The barbarian commander, shocked, led the defense, but it was unnecessary as the gap between the sides wasn't large enough for a quick victory.

Derek continued the relentless assault all day, wave after wave, denying the barbarians any respite. As night fell, the barbarian casualties were staggering. Derek confidently predicted that the battle would likely end that night. Despite Palmer's skepticism, Derek understood that once the barbarians counted their losses, their morale would likely collapse. Observing the enemy's intent to retreat, Derek saw that tonight was the best opportunity to finish the fight.