The Extra Wants To Live

Typically, the left wing focuses on stalling the opposing right wing's attacks and buying time, so it deploys many discarded units such as conscripts.

The center also usually focuses on holding its ground. The main attack is on the right wing. Naturally, the position that can make the greatest contribution is on the right wing.

Left-handed line infantry are never placed on the right wing because of this background.

They are always on the left wing.

Even if they are left-handed, they are made to fight with a spear and sword in their right hand. This ensures that they can protect themselves and their comrades with shields and maintain the ranks.

However, if they are going to place a left-handed soldier on the right wing, there would be no reason not to step forward.

"Hmm… it's not enough."

There were quite a few left-handed people, but Baduan looked dissatisfied. Feeling a bit anxious, Carl tried to match the number as much as possible, even picking out ambidextrous people.

Everyone found it strange that Baduan treated left-handed people so differently. Left-handed weapons are usually used in surprise attacks, melees, or duels that require unpredictability, rather than in battles between front-line infantry.

But after a while, when Baduan himself came forward and began to explain the tactics, everyone understood the reason.

Their task was to execute tactical movements that were extremely painful and difficult to perform, with no room for error. It was one of the most difficult, yet simple, and therefore beautifully clear tactics that the line infantry could pull off. The faces of those who were beaming at the thought of occupying the most honorable position hardened.

"Why do all of you have such faces?"

Baduan asked the men, who now had black, dead expressions. Even though Baduan knew the reason best, he asked with such a calm demeanor, pretending not to know.

It was disgusting. "Are you insecure?"

"…I may be presumptuous, but yes, that's right. If the battle were to take place tomorrow, there wouldn't even be time to train, right?" one knight responded to Baduan's question.

The task they had to perform was too difficult for them to brag that they could do it. Even the most highly trained elite soldiers needed to train separately for at least a week.

If they were knights, their understanding of tactics was on a whole other level, and some of them were mana users, so they might be able to manage.

But what about the soldiers? What about the right wing, which had a high proportion of soldiers, especially those who were left-handed?

"You must do it even if you are not confident. Now we cannot retreat. When you stand before me with your banner raised, when you speak your glorious name, do not say that you came without even thinking about what mission you will undertake."

"…This is not a matter of will. Even if everyone perseveres with an indomitable spirit, it is a tactic that will fail if everyone doesn't execute it perfectly." Continue your saga on My Virtual Library Empire

"That's right." Instead of being angry at the knight's bold attitude, Baduan nodded in satisfaction. He's a young guy, but he's a bit cocky. Isn't that the privilege of youth? We should be lenient about that.

"So, His Highness the Grand Duke and I will personally command the battle line."

"… … ."

"You just have to listen to the voices of the man who plants laurels and the best infantryman in the empire, and fight the enemy before you. And will you still say things like you can't do it, it's impossible, and you'll fail?"

No one dared say anything after those words.

The 4th Prince of the Empire, Grand Duke, and Planter of Laurels, Carl Feld Hardion.

Baduan Zigel, the captain of the Imperial Central Army's infantry, the best at handling infantry in the Empire.

The two most noble and capable men in Hardion's army currently in Tumaria had said they would stand in person to command the most dangerous front-line infantry!

"If you make a mistake or flee, His Highness the Grand Duke and I will be in danger. Usually, you will be killed. If you are lucky, you will be captured, and if you are unlucky, you will be put in a situation worse than death."

Capturing the Grand Duke of the Empire and the Central Army Infantry Commander? In the long run, it might be better to receive a ransom and send them back, but no one knows what the Tumari rebels might do. They could keep them alive, dragging them around like dogs and beating them. And that's not even the worst outcome.

"This is not a tactical exercise or a child's war game. Even if you think you can't do it, we must, for the sake of victory. Those who give up will be dealt with by military law for disobeying orders, and others out there will take your place in the line of battle. Those who are weaker, less physically fit, and less mentally strong than you."

Only the best were selected. But if the best say they can't do it, what else can we do? We have no choice but to use the second-best. But can they really do what the best said they couldn't?

After such a defeat, if Carl and Baduan, who took risks and commanded at the forefront, were killed or captured, it would all be their fault for giving up.

Even if it was something that happened under the decision of the command to push forward with an unreasonable tactic, it will clearly remain in their minds as their fault.

In the minds of the knights and soldiers, the image of Carl running in full plate armor, encouraging the soldiers, supporting them, giving them water, and now lying down on the ground.

"If you can't do it, then get out right now. I can't leave my fate to a coward like that."

Baduan said heavily.

As a result, not a single one of them went out, and Baduan nodded in satisfaction.

Baduan soon led the line infantry into their first and only training exercise.

There will be a battle tomorrow, so I can't waste a lot of stamina today.

Fortunately, Baduan was right in his confident words, as the man best at handling infantry in the empire.

When Carl, who had collapsed, heard that Baduan was training, he got up from his exhaustion and participated in the training.

Since Carl had only seen this tactic in historical documents and had never actually tried it himself, he had to experience it firsthand under the command of the experienced Baduan.

And, fortunately enough, Carl had a talent for strategy and tactics that was more than enough.

Carl had only participated in Baduan's training once, and he was able to handle it well enough.

The most important problem of line infantry was solved.

But there are so many other preparations that need to be done as well.

Carl shook off Milton's pleas for more rest and prepared for battle.

"Your Majesty! If you do that, you will die of exhaustion before the battle!"

The cries of the elderly doctor Milton, who collapses like an abandoned woman and desperately calls out to Carl, are heard in melancholy.

Carl barely registered Milton's cries as he pressed forward, focused on the tasks at hand. His mind raced with the countless things that still needed preparation. Ammunition needed to be distributed, formations solidified, and morale raised. Tomorrow's battle would not allow any room for error.

The light from the setting sun bathed the camp in an orange hue as Carl moved from group to group, offering words of encouragement and advice. Despite his exhaustion, his determination was unwavering. He had to ensure that everything went according to plan.

"Your Majesty, please, at least rest for a moment," Milton's voice, hoarse from his earlier shouts, followed him. The elderly doctor's face was pale with concern, eyes filled with worry. He'd served the Hardion family for decades and had seen many campaigns, but even he had never witnessed such relentless drive in Carl before a battle.

"I can rest after the battle," Carl replied firmly. He wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his sword at his side, moving on to the next group of soldiers without another word.

Milton sighed in resignation, knowing he could do nothing to convince Carl otherwise. He watched as the prince marched toward the next division, his armor clinking with each step. The prince's sheer willpower was inspiring, but Milton feared that this might be too much even for him.

At the training grounds, Baduan was shouting orders, his voice booming across the field. The soldiers were drilling hard, executing the complex maneuvers that would decide their fate on the battlefield. Carl approached and watched them in silence for a moment. They were doing well, but he knew that one mistake could spell disaster. He clenched his fists, willing them to succeed.

Baduan spotted Carl and immediately called a halt. He strode over, sweat dripping from his forehead, but there was a fire in his eyes.