The Extra Wants To Live

"Hang in there!"

"Kkaaaah…!"

Naturally, the first to collide with the enemy was the center at the very front of the crescent formation.

They were the most physically developed of the selected line infantry, and at the same time, they were also able to manipulate mana. However, even a knight who handles mana could do nothing in the face of overwhelming violence.

They staggered backward, reeling from the dizzying shock, only to be stopped by the wall of comrades supporting their backs. The spear was pointed forward, but they didn't know what or how they were aiming it. They just endured, putting all their weight on the shield.

What was especially painful was that the protruding center had to withstand attacks not only from the front but also from the sides.

The Tumarian rebels ordered a charge in single formation. But when a person suddenly appeared in front of them, they couldn't ignore it. Naturally, they became conscious of the center of Hardion and unconsciously changed direction to attack the center.

The center of the protruding Hardion was not just an empty phrase; it was literally to die for.

"Hang in there! Hang in there!"

Baduan shouted at the top of his lungs, encouraging his men from behind the center, which was being pushed back and squeezed by the enemy. However, eventually, the center was gradually crushed by the overwhelming mass difference and began to be pushed back. Continue your adventure at My Virtual Library Empire

"Stay in line! Stay in line! Trust your comrades! If you fight for them, they will fight for you and die!"

Carl banged his soldiers' backs and shouted in a huge voice that everyone could clearly hear even amid the din of the battlefield.

He had to pay special attention to the right wing because the ratio of knights was low due to the left-handed deployment, and there was a risk that it would be broken through or collapse under the enemy's pressure.

Even though it seemed like a trivial decision to place a left-handed soldier on the right wing, it had significant results. Holding the shield in their right hand allowed for much better side protection.

Thud! Thud!

Even while being crushed, there were those who tried to break through the crescent formation's weak point—the right wing—by slamming their shields, but they all clenched their teeth and held on.

"Ughhhh…!"

"Kahhak! Huh…!"

In the clashing battle lines, instead of battle cries or screams of pain, only crushed groans could be heard.

The Tumarian rebels had no room to swing their weapons, as they intended to break through Hardion's lines by charging with their overwhelming mass. However, Hardion did not even attempt to attack but just stood their ground and was able to block attacks from enemies six times their size while being pushed back.

Because of this, the front lines became completely frozen, and a literal "power struggle" was taking place. It was a really stupid fight with no clear answer.

"Fuck!"

It was not the commander of the small number of Hardion troops who spat curses at the foolish battle but the commander of the overwhelmingly large number of Tumarian rebels.

Hardion's line infantry had missed the crescent formation due to the sandy dust obscuring their vision.

When fighting a small number of enemies on a narrow battlefield where it was impossible to form complex formations with 40,000 troops, it was natural to engage in a battle of strength and attempt a breakthrough using mass.

Because that was the rule.

However, although it was a power struggle they had wanted so badly, it was definitely not like this.

"You have to step down!"

"If you fall back, it's over! The flanks of the cavalrymen who are tied down will be exposed, and the soldiers in front will be annihilated!"

The command of the Tumarian rebels was in disarray. They all knew very well what would happen if they charged their conscripts in a crescent formation of elite soldiers into this narrow battlefield.

"Attack the infantry with magic and charge the light cavalry on the left wing!"

As the conflict continued, Chandar gave a firm order.

The west was stuck, shackled by cavalry skirmishes in narrow spaces. The infantry fighting in the center also remained stagnant. So, the only troops that could be used were the wizards and the light cavalry slowly approaching Hardion's rear from the eastern slope.

Phew! Phew!

"...what?"

The commander of the light cavalry on the left wing of the Tumarian rebels, who had been patrolling down the slope, was startled by the sudden order to charge and turned around.

"Is that really the order to charge that I just heard?"

"That, that… yes, that seems right."

Everyone seemed embarrassed by the commander's careful question but gave the same answer. The cavalry commander made a cool-headed judgment.

"Tsk. Looks like I made a mistake. Go and check the orders."

"Yes!"

Immediately, three cavalrymen detached from the light cavalry on the left wing and ran toward the central headquarters.

It was unlikely that the commander would seriously order a light cavalry charge. They were only there to check and disturb Hardion's right wing.

There weren't many of them, and as light cavalry, their equipment was poor. Above all, Hardion's right wing was fortified with stone stakes running diagonally down the slope, and 500 archers were aiming their bows with their eyes wide open. There was also a small number of heavy cavalry waiting at the rear.

They could charge, but all they would achieve was a dog's death.

Even for heavy cavalry, charging into a built-up position was suicidal, so how could light cavalry survive?

Of course, it was a command error.

In this way, the left-wing light cavalry of the Tumarian rebels ignored orders and just circled in place.

"Fuck, shit! Fuck! Fuck!"

The wizards, who received the order, stepped on the shoulders and heads of the soldiers while swearing as they advanced forward. The soldiers were so tightly packed that they couldn't step on the ground to move forward.

The wizards could read despair in the faces of those being crushed and slowly dying.

"S-save me…"

"Let go! I'm coming to save you now!"

The wizards kicked away the grabbing hands and advanced.

"Attack now!"

"Hmm!"

Four magicians stood on the soldiers' shoulders and heads, preparing to attack.

But before they could even use their magic, a spear of fire flew fiercely toward them from the Hardion formation.

The Hardion Imperial Magicians, who had been waiting in advance, sensed the mana and reacted like lightning.

"T-this is…! You were aiming for this!"

Only then did the wizards, even those without tactical insight, realize the situation.

Hardion had been able to rain fireballs on the Tumarian rebels' infantry but had deliberately remained stationary without using magic. They had focused solely on intercepting any wizards attempting to break their fixation.

Wizards were selfish. They gave up their offensive to defend themselves desperately against the magic targeting them, eventually retreating.

Meanwhile, the infantry's battle situation grew increasingly dire.

"Crunch…! Ugh!"

The crushed soldiers, more precisely the soldiers of the Tumarian rebels, slumped down and trembled.

Some vomited as their internal organs were compressed, while others suffocated in the dry desert air. Furthermore, some began to die, foaming at the mouth from broken ribs puncturing their lungs or cardiac arrest due to their hearts being crushed.

The armor of the Tumarian rebels, which had a high proportion of conscripts, was not very good.

Although a variety of armors were mixed in, only a few of the standing army wore proper plate armor. So, when pressed from the front and back, the armor collapsed and failed to protect the body from the pressure.

"Hold on! Hold on!"

"Ugh…!"

On the other hand, Hardion's troops were all knights and standing soldiers. Especially in the case of the front lines, all wore full plate armor without exception.

Since there was no need to swing a weapon, they borrowed others' armor to equip themselves, even if it didn't fit perfectly. Structural defense was essential in plate armor.

Properly forged plate armor, an ergonomic marvel, provided space inside to protect the wearer from impact and pressure.

Thanks to this, Hardion's line infantry avoided being crushed to death, even though they were vomiting and urinating due to enormous physical exhaustion.

In this situation, changes began to appear in the overall ranks.

Hardion's infantry was in a crescent formation with a prominent center. Naturally, the direction of force applied by the Tumarian rebels' infantry to attack was not straight south but angled toward the center.

A lot of force was especially applied to the protruding center of Hardion.

"Take a step back! One! Two! Three!"

"under!"

Joaaaah!

"Eww!"

Under Karl's command, the infantry center retreats one step in unison.

In reality, the only soldiers who could follow that order were those positioned at the rear of the infantry ranks.

However, the opposing forces suddenly tilted, and the center of the infantry staggered and was pushed back in an instant.