I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution Chapter 22

Civil War Period – Lafayette’s Front (3)

I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

Written by – 카르카손
Translated by – Mara Sov


 

Civil War Period – Lafayette’s Front (3)

 

 

After the cannon fire, the majority of Knights and cavalry were reduced to lumps of meat and viscera.

 

Those who were lucky enough to survive were either writhing on the ground while screaming, clutching the places where arms or legs were supposed to be, or were completely frozen, having lost all sense of reason.

 

Even my own soldiers who witnessed this massacre were either staring blankly at this scene or were clutching their mouths to contain their rising bile.

 

Seeing this, I spurred my horse towards them and shouted.

 

“Snap out of it! The battle is not over yet! Quickly, reload the cannons!”

 

“Reloading!”

 

Even if we managed to wipe out most of the Knights with our ambush, the enemy still outnumbered us.

 

Fortunately, the enemy also seemed to be frozen in place, dumbstruck by the sigh of their strongest force composed of Knights and heavy cavalry being slaughtered like never before.

 

The cannon fire resumed once more from the high ground. 

 

As another cannonball flew into their disorganized ranks, it was clear to see that the enemy troops were becoming increasingly panicked.

 

“Reload the muskets! Artillerymen Prepare to fire at my command!”

 

“Yes, My Lord!”

 

“The cannons are ready!”

 

“Fire!”

 

The artillerymen covered their ears as the cannonballs flew towards the enemy troops.

 

At this distance, I could see the soldiers being crushed by the cannonballs, while their miserable screams filled the plains.

 

“The musketeers are ready, My Lord!”

 

“Fire!”

 

Following my order, the muskets spilled fire as more soldiers fell victim to the bullet rain and panic spread throughout the army.

 

“My Lord! Enemy mage sighted!”

 

While the musketeers continued to reload their weapons and prepare for their next volley, a torrent of water fell upon their heads, and in a single instant, dozens of muskets became useless.

 

However, this changed nothing!

 

“Reload the functioning muskets! The enemy has already lost their cohesion!”

 

The moment is near. 

 

Suddenly, a cavalry burst from within the forest with Sir Gaston at their lead charging toward the enemy’s flank which was still disorganized from the barrage of artillery and gunfire.

 

At last!

 

I too drew my sword and shouted.

 

“All soldiers! Draw your swords! Prepare to charge!”

 

“Draw swords!”

 

“Prepare to charge!”

 

The musketeers hastily tossed their guns aside and drew their swords, as the spearmen stepped forward, but it was frustrating to still see some hesitation from my forces.

 

“Chargeee—! Sweep the enemy away!”

 

As I spurred my horse and rushed forward, the soldiers lost their hesitation and followed my lead.

 

“Follow the Lord! Attack!”

 

“Charge at them men!”

 

The enemies who were too panicked to form an organized response were quickly overwhelmed by the last barrage of cannon fire. 

 

Seeing their panicked faces while we closed in, I became certain. 

 

That we had won.

 

 

Damien De Millbeau’s face was pale, as if his very soul had been extracted from his body. The events happening before him were a nightmare, as the army continued to be plundered by a barrage of gunfire and cannonballs.

 

“Ah, hahaha I see! I’m dreaming aren’t I?”

 

The Heir of Lafayette.

 

Whenever he believed that victory against that man was certain, he would be defeated in the most unbelievable and cowardly way possible.

 

Even so, after all his experiences, Damien was still completely gobsmacked as he never imagined such a devastating defeat.

 

4.000 troops against a mere 1.500.

 

Moreover, they had a large number of Knights on their side.

 

Yet, every single Knight and Heavy cavalryman who charged at the enemy, including the Duke and his Father, the Count, vanished in an instant. 

 

Literally, every single head of the army had perished in an instant, leaving the majority of forces clueless about what to do.

 

“Y-young Master, no, Your Grace! You are in charge now!”

 

“Hah? W-what?”

 

Damien dumbly answered the familiar voice of his trusted Knight, Sir Casselle, who continued to shout. 

 

“Both the Duke and the Count have fallen in battle! Damien De Millbeau, you are now the commander of this army!”

 

“My Lord! The enemy has ambushed us! Our flanks are being attacked by a cavalry that emerged from within the forest!”

 

Desperate cries for orders echoed all around him.

 

While Damien had achieved his ambition and had become the Count of Millbeau, his face was not one of joy, but utter despair as the army, despite its numerical advantage, was on the verge of total collapse.

 

Before his very eyes, the forces commanded by the Lafayette Heir advanced like an incoming tide. One Knight led their charge, waving a banner with the Lafayette coat of arms.

 

The crest of the roaring lion. Seeing this familiar coat of arms, Damien’s whole back shuddered with a piercing phantom pain.

 

The sensation of being thrown from his mouth by that man in their first encounter, and the nightmarish memory of being stuck by his arrow during their second encounter…… And the subsequent torture he suffered from that witch, sent a chill through his spine.

 

“I…I cannot win against that man.”

 

“Come again?”

 

“Retreat!”

 

“Your Grace! Just what nonsense are you sporting?!”

 

The Knights and vassals who were stationed in the rear had the front row seat as they watched Damien scream with a pale, ashes face.

 

“Retreat! All troops, fall back! Every man for himself!”

 

 

“Argh, Aaargh—! G-Get away! No—-”

 

I sliced the back of a fleeting soldier with his sword and threw a dagger, dispatching another unlucky fellow.

 

Looking around, I could see that the enemy’s command structure had collapsed completely as Sir Gaston and the cavalry were chasing the enemy through their flanks, further expanding our kills.

 

The exact level of enemy casualties was still unknown, but it was clear to see that they suffered major losses, while my army had gotten away with minimal damage.

 

While I examined the battlefield, I spotted a group approaching on horseback, and I immediately drove my horse to meet them.

 

“……Congratulations, My Lord. Truthfully I was rather concerned with this whole affair, but this victory while welcomed is greatly unexpected.” 

 

I glanced at the leader of the group and the one who said those words.

 

She wasn’t wearing her usual attire, but a military one with a stylish hat adorned with feathers. 

 

Even in this situation, Christine’s preference for black clothes was a welcomed respite.

 

“Ah, My Countess, I must thank you for the support you provided to our rear, I’m grateful for your efforts.” 

 

Christine was the one commanding the artillery fire from a high ground in the forest.

 

As per my request, she had secretly trained a militia of 1.000 men and joined us just in time, as her artillery fire helped in instigating the Duke to act.

 

“So, what are you planning to do next?”

 

“I’ll reorganize our forces and march towards the Nivernais Plains.”

 

“You’re going to support the Marquis.” 

 

“Yes. We may have achieved a victory on this front, but if the main force collapses, this will be for naught. However……”

 

“Baron Charon is gathering his forces and will march towards here. Leave the annihilation of the enemy remnants and the defense of the Marquisate to Aquitaine.” 

 

“……That’s very generous of you. Are you sure of this?” 

 

We won a great victory today, but the enemy’s forces continued to be overwhelming. Even if they’re now a shattered bunch of ragtags, I can’t simply leave the Marquisate unguarded and charge toward the next battle.

 

I was going to ask her this myself, but Christine seemed to read my mind as she proposed this herself.

 

Bringing the forces I commissioned from her was part of our deal, but using the Aquitaine’s forces is clearly a participation in this Civil War.

 

“What’s with this sudden worry? I already sent a warning to the King. Should you have lost this battle, I would have retreated to my lands and pretended that nothing happened, you know? But luckily for us, you won.” 

 

Having said those words, Christine laughed deeply and then continued.

 

“It’s a shame, but I must inform you that our secret alliance ends here. From now on I will be your official partner. And as your partner, shouldn’t I lend you a hand and reap the harvest from a battle that was already won?” 

 

Ah, I seriously can’t handle her sometimes. 

 

“I’m glad to be your partner, My Countess.” 

 

As I said this and offered a handshake, Christine smiled as she accepted it.

 

“What a delightful coincidence. I was just thinking the same thing, My—-Ara?” 

 

Pulling her hand, I quickly secured her in my arms and whispered in her ear just to be sure one would hear this.

 

“Be careful, Christine. There must be some Knights who managed to flee.

 

Your safety is worth more than any victory.” 

 

Christine’s smile bloomed and with a strange glint in her eyes, she said, unfazed by my sudden pull.

 

“……Look who’s talking. I’ll say the same to you, Pierre. Be careful. I’ve invested a great deal in you, so take care of yourself.” 

 

With a sudden chuckle, I released my hold on her and stepped back.

 

“Haha-. Understood, My Countess. However, I must ask, surely you’ll share the spoils collected from all my hard work, right?” 

 

“Hmm, that will depend on how you’ll behave, My Lord.”

 

Sigh-. As always, she never concedes even an inch.

 

Shaking my head, I raised the banner.

 

As my officials recognized the signal, they gathered for a meeting.

 

While they organized themselves, I looked at Christine.

 

Her back was turned to me as she was busy ordering her vassals around.

 

With a strange sense of rightness, I also trusted my back to her as I now marched for the next battlefield.

 

To partake in the main dish — King Louis himself.

 

—-

 

In the eastern territory of Francia.

 

The forces of Duke Orleans and Duke Lorenne had several skirmishes for the first days after their initial encounter, but they soon found themselves entrenched opposite to each other.

 

A tall man wearing a fancy uniform with a stylish fur hat turned his horse away from the smoke rising in the distance as he galloped towards his camp.

 

“Captain.”

 

“Sir!” 

 

“Everyone’s working hard today, I see. Well then, shall we go in?” 

 

“Y-yes, Y-yes, everyone is keeping their swords ready, Sir.”

 

With a rather casual dialogue, the man entered the tent at the center of the camp and immediately frowned at the loud snoring sound coming from within.

 

The supposed loud snoring was coming from a bundle curled up in a blanket in the corner of the tent.

 

“Hey.” 

 

Of course, he received no answer, so the man walked closer to it and kicked the sleeping figure.

 

“ZZzzZZzz–. Agh! Wha, what the—!” 

 

“Sleeping on duty I see. No matter how stupidly the nobles fight, this is a bit too much, isn’t it?” 

 

The man tumbled out of his resting place, rubbed his eyes, sighed, and pressed a hand to his forehead.

 

“No, Jerome it’s not. We’re not going to fight anyway, you know? Those noble bastards won’t even bother with inspecting us because they know that too.” 

 

“Ah for god’s sake! What are you now? A bloody prophet?” 

 

“No? I’m your superior officer, and you are my subordinate, Jerome Morelle.” 

 

“Huh, well so you know this! You’re a real piece of work, Mr. Valliant. A common man like me cannot dare to grasp the workings of your profound foresight, so I’d appreciate it if you blessed me with an explanation?”

 

As Jerome Morelle put all his available sarcasm into his words, Raphael Valliant looked at him and yawned lazily before speaking.

 

“Our army is 6.000 strong, but we have almost 0 Knights here. Who in their right mind would be so desperate to contract city militia like us as mercenaries? That stuck-up Duke of Orleans never intended to fight in the first place, we are just here to make pretend, and maybe stall that Lorenne Duke or something. I bet that the main forces with all cool Knights and fancy mages are all gathered on the main front in the center. Looks like the King really wants the Blue Knight’s head.” 

 

“Huh.” 

 

“At this point, Duke Lorenne would have to be an idiot to not notice something was wrong, but what do you know? He’s indeed an idiot. Just another petty noble who’s more focused on conserving his troops to see the big picture. So because of this, there won’t be any true engagements. So we’ll just stay here, look good while doing it of course, get our pay, fill our bellies with good food, and go home. Got it?” 

 

After this long explanation, Raphael Valliant yawned again, picked up his blanket, and wriggled back into his makeshift bed.

 

“Now that I have enlightened you, please don’t disturb my precious nap anymore.” 

 

“Fuck. Here I was hoping we would get to ride into a fight and be the heroes at least once, but I’m stuck here?” 

 

As his friend continued to complain, Raphael yawned……again, and with a sleepy tone, said.

 

“Exactly. It would be fun if we got to see some action. But I don’t think I would last much in a fight in this damned Knight Kingdom.” 

 

With a face that had become the epitome of laziness, Raphael rustled inside the blankets searching for the optimal position to take his nap he paused for a moment before adding one last line as his eyes were closed and his mouth curled into a slight smile.

 

“Ah, if only this country would flip over its head! That way I’m sure some interesting stuff would happen.” 

 


TL NOTE: And here’s here lads and lasses.

The man the MC feared the most, the legendary Rapheal Valliant….is a slob….

I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

Score 9.08
Status: Ongoing Released: 2021 Native Language: Korean
As a noble of a corrupt kingdom, I died after failing to quell the Revolution. When I opened my eyes, I returned to the time before the Revolution erupted. Now, to survive, I must join the Revolution.

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