Jilk surveyed the battlefield through the scope on his rifle. “Looks like ships from the rear have moved to the front. Our side must really be feeling the heat right now.”
He knew already that they were at a serious disadvantage. Even with most of the Demonic Knights off the field, the empire’s regular forces were sufficient to outmatch Holfort’s own. It was only thanks to the combined help from all the AIs that they were putting up some resistance.
The drones handled the more fearsome enemies, which reduced the strain on the royal army, but even those drones were falling one after the other. The empire was winning through sheer numbers.
“Kill their sniper first!” bellowed an enemy.
Jilk had been sniping foes one at a time, and the successive shots had overheated his barrel. His gun was losing accuracy and efficacy; his most recent round barely grazed the enemy’s shoulder.
“That’s another gun down,” he said to himself. As an enemy charged him to try and end his sniping spree, he tossed the rifle aside in favor of a handgun. His blast pierced right through the foe’s cockpit, sinking them.
Jilk turned to the closest drone. “I need a new rifle,” he told it.
The drone carried a container on its back similar to the one Arroganz used. At Jilk’s request, it approached and pulled out a new rifle to give him.
He snatched it, leveling the scope so he could look through it via his monitor. Once he located an enemy, his breathing slowed to a pause. His finger squeezed the trigger. He’d timed it perfectly so that, as two enemies overlapped, the bullet pierced straight through both. Two birds with one stone. Without pause, he began searching for his next targets, pulling the trigger each time he found one.
“I really hate this,” Jilk said. “The way people lose their lives so easily.”
A few years ago, he’d known he would eventually become a knight, and he’d been confident that he wouldn’t fear battle or anything that came with it. Fighting was part of knighthood. If someone outwitted or outmatched him, he would die, and he was willing to accept that.
But everything had changed.
After serving alongside Leon these past couple of years, and fighting on numerous battlefields, Jilk had realized war was something to avoid. Moreover, he had realized how foolish he’d been when he was younger.
“I’m far better suited to desk work. I’d rather fire guns at targets than at people.”
Assuming he survived this, he would avoid war as best he could in the future. Fortunately, the new king was a pacifist. No, that’s not quite right. He’s more an idealist. But Jilk was fine with that. It’s a retainer’s responsibility to support their liege’s weak points. That’s exactly why neither Leon nor I can afford to die out here.
Inwardly admonishing himself for his growing desire to run from the enemies pressing in on him, Jilk hunkered down, intent on carrying out his duty.