He Died and Receive an Overpowered Tyrant System

Battle Ignited

In the governmental office, Louis Nicholas was talking with Ernest, a detailed map of the western region was laid on the table. Ernest was looking at the map, with a cursory glance, Ernest asked Louis.

"So, what's the plan?" Ernest asked.

"With 200 troops, we will march towards this strategic location here." Louis pointed to the map. "It's the Poeta Mountain Range. Due to the uneven terrain, we can only march 200 troops, but that also goes to the enemy battalion."

"So you're saying that they can only send a hundred troops?"

"No, they could reach thousands."

"Thousands? Really?" Ernest couldn't believe it. "Is there even a road wide enough to accommodate thousands of troops?"

"In the Poeta mountain range, it was a struggle just finding somewhere where to stand. However, there was a single, wide, smooth road that cuts across that treacherous terrain.

A few generations ago, when the Kingdom of Crentis had ordered the Libea family to break ground to the south, they'd carved their way through the mountains and built the mountainous region's only road capable of supporting carriage traffic."

With that brief information, Ernest cut in. "Naturally, such a path had a checkpoint...correct?"

"I see." Ernest nodded, "Okay, I trust that you can bring victory to the Reich, Obergrupphenfuhrer."

"Yes, Volksfuhrer."

The two saluted.

…

It was midnight, a few days after the Divine Spear of Fiery Heavens had set Eighbury on fire.

The stone brickwork checkpoint had barred the way to the mountain's wide valley, and it boasted a gigantic gate easily thirty feet tall.

Normally, it had fifty or sixty Brachride soldiers stationed in it, keeping watch twenty-four hours a day. Now that they were on high alert, though, that number had quadrupled. The checkpoint stood two hundred guardsmen strong. They were split into three teams, each taking an eight-hour shift, and together, they made sure to survey from every direction.

"Argh...I'm freezing my balls off here. Looks like we've got another blizzard today, too."

"Hey, it's time for the shift change."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver. If I had to stay in this drafty rat trap any longer, I'd probably freeze to death."

"Yeah, they could at least put up some glass windows or something."

There were a number of little watchhouses mounted atop the stone ramparts stretching across the mountain valley. The soldiers stationed in one of them glanced off in the blizzard as they shivered from the bone-chilling cold.

"Nah, the glass would get all fogged up. Can't keep watch if you can't see."

"Who the heck cares? Not like anyone would be stupid enough to try crossing Poeta in the winter...Only savage winter demons are capable of doing that...Now, c'mon, let's get back to the barracks already. I wanna sneak some booze and jerky from the larders on our way back.

Hearing the gaunt-faced soldier say that took his stubbly, stern-looking partner aback. "Hey, whoa they execute people for that kind of stuff."

"Not if they don't find out. The cold storage is always packed to the gills during the winter, and with how they're preparing for war this year, it's practically overflowing. Who's gonna notice if a bottle or two goes missing?"

"I agree, I say go for it. The battalion commander turns a blind eye to that stuff on purpose. After all, going to sleep in weather like this without a little something to warm you up means you risk not waking up at all."

Seeing the relief-shift soldiers agree so strongly turned the sterner guardsman's opinion around. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Then hey, let's…"

But right as the two off-the-clock watchmen made to leave their post, something unusual happened.

The sound of an explosion rocked the ears of the four guards, and a mighty tremor ran through the floor.

"Wh-what's going on?!"

After frantically grabbing torches, they made for the ramparts and looked down. The soldiers stationed at the next watchhouse over looked to be doing the same. Below, they spotted it: a massive hole blown in the side of the wall's masonry.

"The-there's a hole in the wall?!"

"If someone broke through, d-does that mean the noise just now was a cannon fire?!"

From atop the ramparts, the soldiers squinted in disbelief out into the thick darkness. At the very same moment, a number of sparks flashed in the rumbling gloom.

"Gah?!"

A few soldiers toppled backward, blood gushing from their bodies.

"What...the...what is that?!"

"We're under fire!"

Bullets were barreling out of the blackness, speeding toward the soldiers visible atop the ramparts. At that point, there was no doubting it. One of the soldiers let out a cry of alarm.

"We're under attaaaaaaaaack!!!"

No sooner had he done so than the alarms bells affixed to the watchhouses all began sounding, and the checkpoint came alive. The guardsmen had already been on high alert, so a squad of crossbow archers was ready on the wall in no time.

However...

"Gugh!"

"Gagh?!"

"Agh!"

"What are you doing?! Hurry up and return fire!"

"We can't, Captain! I-It's too dark to see, so we don't know where to shoo...get?!"

"Rgh….!"

The lack of light and the raging blizzard meant the soldiers had no recourse against the unbelievably accurate bullets but to roll over and die. The resident Knight-Captain had no idea what to make of it.

They were getting fired upon by an unknown weapon. It produces this repeatedly and incessant roars that can wake up all the living things in the checkpoint. He couldn't discern what weapon but it's more terrifying than the crossbows the knights had. Even using crossbows wasn't effective in this season where blizzards were rampant, it'll affect the trajectory of the arrows, making them ineffective.

What's more, defending the southern region hadn't exactly been high on the kingdom's list of priorities. As far as the knight knew, the region barely had any weapons at all. Most people in the southern region are fishermen, farmers, and miners. So how had the rebels got their hands on such an unknown yet powerful armament? Perhaps more importantly even if the insurgents did have such weapons that can shoot projectiles…

"How are they shooting us so accurately when it's this pitch-black…?!"

The answer to that question lay in the hands of the UNSP's supreme leader, Ernest Gonzales. He summoned equipment that let the soldiers see the night as if it was a day: night vision goggles. Though only fifty of them are equipped with it.

"These are great! Still wish we had some sunlight, but even with how dark it is, I can totally make the enemies out!"

"The guns are nasty, too. Wind's completely nuts, but most of our shots are still landing. This gear of the UNSP is no joke."

The fifty soldiers from Eighbury were equipped with night-vision goggles and assault rifles, making their ranged battle against the hundred-odd crossbow archers decidedly one-sided. Little by little, the United National Socialist Party's Protection Squadron whitted down their enemy's ranks while the Brachride army remained unable to land a single bolt. Eventually, the imperial side seemed to have their hands full reloading, as their crossbow fire died down for a moment.

It was now the time…

Obergrupphenfuhrer Louis used that pause to give his orders. "All Eibard Squadron concentrate your fire on the top of the fortress wall! Don't let them stick their heads out!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Louis Squadron, you're with me! Charge!"

"Ooooooraaaaaaaah!!!"

At the command, thirty or so soldiers who'd been chosen in advance roared as they charged through the snow toward the checkpoint's bastion.

"A battle cry?!"

"This is bad! They're rushing toward that hole they blew open!"

"Don't let them inside! Shoot to kill!"

Having finished reloading their crossbows, the soldiers obeyed their captain and leaned out over the ramparts to take aim at the now visible insurgents.

As brave as a frontal charge may have seemed, the snow was up to the incursion's calves. Getting anywhere fast was out of the question. Even through a blizzard, they were like sitting ducks.

However…

A fierce barrage of gunfire hammered the ramparts and stopped the archers in their tracks. Two storms surged through the mountain pass now, and one was made of lead.

"I-it's no use! We're taking too much fire! For us to risk sticking our heads out!"

"There's too many of them! They'll blow us away the second we stand!"

"ARRGGHH!"

The Knight Captain couldn't even rebuke what his men were saying. He himself was thinking the very same thing. The leaden squall pounded over their heads without letting up for a moment.

To the warriors of this world where guns are unknown, they were the firsthand to experience the terror of getting hailed down with torrents of bullets. Every bullet that impacted the bastion sent a nerve-wracking feeling to the soldiers. Peeking over the bastion was no use, one could get its head blown off. They can only hope for it to stop.

…

It had been a short while now since the battle started on the Louis side of the checkpoint.

From the Brachride side, the back of the door attached to the main gate swung open, and five soldiers waved into the snow. Each was a messenger tasked with delivering the news of the enemy raid to the main army down in the foothills.

With a desperate expressions on their faces, the five rushed through the snow. Each was eager to escape the hellish site of battle as quickly as possible Then, right as the sounds of the insurgent's gunfire began to fade into the distance.

"Ah?"

"Eh?"

"Huh?"

Bang, bang, bang.

Sparks flashed from the dark nearby, and all five couriers crumpled onto the ground. A little while afterward, five figures robed in black cloth crunched across the snow.

"...This is as far as you can go. Our lives and feelings were similar to yours the day you attacked us." The voice speaking to the dead men was dignified, despite its youth. It belonged to Ernest Gonzales. In order to cut off any messengers the checkpoint might've sent, the young Volksfuhrer had led a small group around to its Brachride side.

Suddenly, a chattering sound was heard from Ernest's shoulder. A radio.

"Sir, we have the knight captain surrounded along with his troops...what do they do?"

Ernest yawned and declared his verdict. "Kill them all."

"Copy that…"

The transmission ended, on the side of Nicholas, he glanced at the knight captain and his troops. His eyes gleamed cold. He raised his G36 and aimed it at the enemy soldiers that were cornered. The Protection Squadron followed suit.

A second later, the Protection Squadron pulled the trigger, killing the enemy soldiers.

The killing went on until all troops from the imperial side were neutralized.