Damon's Ascension-Chapter 55: Frontal Assault 4

Sir Garnet tapped his cheek with his index finger, his lips pursed in controlled anger. When he had proposed this attack to the Parliament, he had assured them that he would achieve almost no casualties in the battle while completely routing the foe based on his understanding of the local savages.

However, the current reality was a bitter pill to swallow. Over 20 platoons, each consisting of 20 British soldiers and 5 support personnel, were completely routed, amounting to a loss of 400 troops and 100 support personnel, one-fifth of his entire force!

Even if he found the culprit right now and skinned him alive for his insolence, his enemies back home would never let him live it down. The British army was not a cohesive whole, with countless competitions occurring within the ranks, especially at the level of Sir Garnet and his colleagues.

To even win the chance to lead an army into savage lands, the price he had paid was not small. Everyone with a brain knew that Africa was a land of savages who did not even have basic artillery like catapults due to their natal architecture, so any small force equipped with matchlocks could become an unstoppable force.

It was basically free military merit waiting to be claimed!

He needed to come up with a countermeasure for this problem, which was why he was pensive at this moment. It was at this time that his strategist, Colonel McNeil, finally raised his head, his tense worry giving way to calculated firmness.

The man exhaled sharply, clenching his fists softly as he leaned over the campaign table. His thick mustache shivered from his twitching lips as his brilliant eyes traced the rough map of the battlefield.

The Colonel tapped a finger against one of the marked encampments on the map, his voice level but edged with urgency.

"This isn’t the work of a scattered force, sir. This is targeted. Systematic." He straightened, turning to face Sir Garnet directly.

"The enemy isn’t engaging in a full assault. They’re picking off our men in isolated groups, moving between positions faster than any conventional force should be able to. A single platoon being overwhelmed, perhaps two, might be bad luck... but twenty?" Colonel McNeil shook his head with doubt.

He drew a finger across the map, marking the positions in which Damon took the squads down. "We’re dealing with an unorthodox individual or a very small but elite unit executing these strikes with surgical precision."

Sir Garnet’s fingers drummed against the hilt of his saber as he leaned back into his seat, his icy blue eyes darkening as he spoke in a cold and deadly tone. "Then it’s no savage horde, no tribal uprising—it’s a wolf among the sheep."

His eyelids dropped slightly. "A wolf that has already bitten too deeply."

McNeil gave a slow nod. "Precisely, Sir. If we continue sending platoons out in their current formations, we’ll keep losing men."

Another officer in the tent spoke in a sullen, low tone. "This isn’t a battlefield. It’s a hunting ground, and we’re the prey."

A murmur passed through the nearby officers and aides, a ripple of unease in the command tent.

The idea that their mighty British army - the pride of their Empire - was being hunted by an unseen foe was deeply unsettling.

Some clenched their jaws, while others shifted uncomfortably, their grips tightening around holstered flintlocks or sheathed sabers.

Sir Garnet let them stew in their discomfort for a moment before he spoke again, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"We shall turn the hunter into the hunted."

McNeil’s gaze sharpened. "You have a plan, Sir?"

Sir Garnet’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Indeed. The enemy has thrived on attacking the soldiers under predictable conditions, striking swiftly and vanishing before we can mount a proper response."

He flicked a finger towards the map. "So we shall give him exactly what he has come for!"

McNeil’s eyes narrowed in thought as he understood what his commander was suggesting.

"Bait."

"Naturally." Sir Garnet confirmed, his smirk disappearing.

He then turned toward his officers, his voice growing louder, sharper. "We will continue sending out patrols, but each will have a hidden contingent - a second unit of men lying in wait, concealed and ready to spring the trap."

"These decoy troops will be given new orders. The moment an attack begins on them they are assigned to, they are not to fight conventionally. They will feign disorder, retreat in a controlled panic, drawing the enemy into a killing field where hidden sharpshooters and reinforcements will be lying in ambush." Sir Garnet concluded with a placid expression.

A low murmur of approval rippled through the tent as the strategy took shape. The discomfort in the soldiers’ eyes was slowly replaced by confidence, pride, and especially, cruelty. How dare these mere savages from the bushes dare to resist their noble advance?

Colonel McNeil continued on behalf of the few in the tent who were unable to understand the ploy. "If our enemy is bold enough to follow, we can lock them in our ambush formation and finish them."

Sir Garnet nodded. "I want gatling guns repositioned to key retreat points. No more matchlock volleys and bayonet lines, we will bring down a storm of lead upon this phantom before he even realizes he’s been caught."

Even the soldiers began to feel fear on behalf of Damon. To be led into a trap like a dog and then surrounded on all sides by gatling guns... even a Demigod would be ripped to shreds, right?

Colonel McNeil hesitated but still inquired. "Sir, are we to make any attempts to capture the target for interrogation?"

After all, it was also important to learn how they were able to achieve this effect. The British forces invading various areas of Africa had not really experienced such a strong setback, so it would help to find out what method had been used to come up with countermeasures.

"Not at all. No matter how the situation develops, their entire squad must be routed to the last man." Sir Garnet emphasized while glancing at everyone.

He was not interested in finding out whatever method this group used. He wanted no more variables in his sure victory over these savages, so he deployed extreme force to ensure that the culprits were killed and for the battle to end with their crushing victory as before.

Colonel McNeil nodded. "It will be done. Deploy!"

................

Damon was currently snacking on some beef jerky provided to the soldiers at the front, his teeth easily ripping apart the stiff meat while his stomach turned it into usable nutrients twice as fast as before. He was going strong with the killing when he suddenly felt immense weakness due to hunger, forcing him to take an impromptu break.

They say hunger is the best spice, and it was definitely true. This lightly and spicy beef jerky was not something he would eat on any normal day, nor was it something he would have ever eaten, but now, it tasted heavenly.

"I need to find a solution for food issues, otherwise things will become troublesome." Damon lamented as he licked his fingers, using the water from a soldier’s canteen to wash his hands.

Damon was seated on top of a pile of corpses from this firing position, his body language conveying relaxation and comfort. In the slightly more than an hour’s worth of time between when he took down the first platoon to when he took down this one, he had become even more comfortable with killing.

Damon was able to kill previously because he recognized the reality of the situation, not to mention that he knew that his adversaries would not hesitate to put him down. However, the current him was clearly far more comfortable with the act, able to do it without much resistance internally.

This was an inevitable change in psychology that came with inflated power and constant killing. Damon, though, was not too bothered by his subconscious changes, rather focused on the total Worldly Essence he had gained so far.

23 Officers and 553 soldiers from the firing positions coupled with sentries and other encounters on the battlefield had led to this number.

6,680 Worldly Essence, enough to pay for his next Level Up, but not enough for the one after that. Still, it was not like he could do anything with it anyway, so he put the matter out of his mind and glanced in the direction of the British Command Tent from afar.

Damon knew that in order to fulfill his objectives and get a high score, killing all the invading soldiers was not enough. He needed to find a way to resolve the situation once and for all, discouraging the British from moving on the Ashanti Empire in the future.

Even if he managed to rout the entire army, the only outcome would be enraging the British, compelling them to respond with an even larger and more formidable force, one determined to obliterate everything as a brutal warning to the savages.

If there was going to be any completing his objective, and at an EX rating, he would need to enter the command tent and meet with the commander, Sir Garnet, himself.