Chapter 17: The Tank
Amidst the forest filled with splitting screams and gurgling bloody gasps, it was extremely difficult to hear any approaching footsteps. Detecting someone drawing near was even harder.
That was part of why I deliberately kept my distance from the campfire. With bright light nearby, it becomes challenging to face those already adapted to the night. To confront those concealed in the dark, you must also enter the shadows.
Only then can eyes adjusted to the darkness perceive the enemy – just like right now.
I gripped the sword seized from the ambusher with both hands and corrected my stance. Shielding the flickering campfire’s glow on the blade with the back of my hand, I took a step forward.
Simultaneously, I did not withhold advice for John, experiencing firing a crossbow for the first time in his life.
“Just act like you’re aiming. Don’t shoot until I call your name as a signal.”
“Y-Young Master…”
“Here they come.”
As much as I wanted to encourage the trembling John, the enemies who ambushed us with clear malice would not let this chance slip by. All the servants who came with us were dead, and most of the guard forces were trapped.
In this situation, sending just a soldier or two would suffice to achieve their goal. Sure enough, beneath the pitch-black night shrouded even from the moon, a heavy silhouette began to emerge.
The figure was a man donning a hooded cloak over a gambeson. At a glance, his meager arms could be mistaken for some militia or bandit group. Naturally, since a gambeson is just thick padded armor.
But considering I was still an unfinished child of twelve years, it would be no easy feat. Though lightly armed, he clearly underwent quite rigorous training.
The firmly grounded, steady footsteps. The way he gripped the sword hilt like a vice. The unwavering sword tip. And the even breathing maintained even in this tense situation.
From his demeanor, I sensed Yubas’ sincerity – this was no halfhearted affair. They seemed to have been driven quite a corner. I leveled my sword tip at the enemy, leaving John one final piece of advice.
“John, you’re taller than me. That means you can shoot over my shoulder at the enemy.”
“Huh? Ugh…”
“I’ll hold him, so take the shot.”
Then, the sound of pounding footsteps charging at full tilt reached my ears. Keeping my gaze fixed on the enemy, I took a step back and pulled back the arm holding my sword to be able to thrust it out in one swift motion.
The raw physical strength of a child’s body would not be enough to withstand this. If I just evaded, my stamina would be drained first. What I needed now were refined techniques to compensate for my lacking power.
As soon as the enemy swung his sword with all his might, I spun my own blade half a turn and thrust it forward with equal force. The first thing meeting the diagonal sword path was my sword tip. Had I stopped there, my sword would have been deflected.
But my sword tip kept advancing. The recoil generated from reversing the blade gave me enough force to deflect the enemy’s sword strike. His blade temporarily lost power, sliding along the path of my sword.
Seeing this, I instantly shifted my weight to the pommel side, batting his sword up.
This entire process took merely seconds. To simply state what was shown without extra explanation:
With a resounding clang of steel, the enemy staggered from that single counterattack. Of course, due to still lacking strength, I failed to fully disarm him. But it was enough to throw him off balance.
The cry of shock from the attacker who initially struck without a word was proof of that.
“Wha…what is this…!”
The bewildered voice pierces my ear through the pained groan. Well, he probably let his guard down seeing a child wield a sword. I could fully understand and empathize with the sense of dissonance he felt.
But that’s that, and this is this.
As I readjusted my stance, shifting my feet and recovering my sword while pressing the tip into the ground, I called out:
“John.”
Crack! The sound like shattering pottery made me look. John was far a better marksman than I expected – the bolt shattered the enemy’s teeth before penetrating straight through his throat.
Only then did the enemy fully lose his grip on the sword. Flailing his arms as if swimming, he touched the embedded arrowhead in his mouth and stared this way, as if trying to say something.
But the only one who could speak for the dying attacker was me. Strictly speaking John could too…but the atmosphere was not quite right. I offered the attacker a somber consolation.
“Consider yourself unlucky. Don’t feel wronged. When you came to kill me, you must have assumed I was the unlucky one too, no?”
“…”
“Otherwise…well, you’d have no right to be consoled even in death, being such a cheap life. It’s quite fortunate, really. Neither of us has reason to feel wronged, does it?”
Hearing my warm solace, the attacker coughed up froth and collapsed. He had let go of any lingering attachments to this world before his demise. It was then that John’s voice came from behind me.
“Is…is he dead?”
“He was bound to die anyway. Rest assured.”
“Pardon? But just a moment ago…”
“From the moment he came to kill me, he was a dead man. Now come, reload that crossbow, or grab one already loaded.”
I wasn’t just trying to change the subject. With one failing, another would reveal himself. This new one was dressed identically. Though his camaraderie seemed steadfast, as he could not divert his gaze from his fallen comrade’s corpse.
It seemed like provoking him gently would make him easier to handle…So I addressed him in a soft voice. The ongoing clashes of blades from the forest beyond the campfire suggested Sir Topa and the soldiers were still alive.
From their sporadic appearances one or two at a time, I could roughly grasp the situation unfolding.
“I wondered why they mobilized an army. It must have been urgent, but from the time they forced this arranged marriage, they had already infiltrated mercenaries with fabricated identities. They induced military tensions to draw in mercenaries seeking work, taking advantage of that. Perhaps this side was the target from the start. They pre-deployed forces to be ready to move when the time came.”
“…”
“Yet the initial ranging shots to signal the ambush were inaccurate, with quite a gap until the next volley. The focus seemed to be sowing chaos and herding rather than slaughter. Moreover, this is Povius territory. Too large a mobilized force risked being detected outright, causing the ambush itself to be aborted.”
By this point, the enemy could no longer just stare at his fallen comrade’s corpse. From shock to awe, from awe to killing intent – his gaze shifted rapidly, taking no more than 3 seconds. Yet feeling slightly unsatisfied, I decided to provoke him further.
“You don’t have that many in number, do you? At most twenty, maybe fifteen. You left the rest to erase your trail or as reserves to pin down Sir Topa? But that’s not the important part.”
I raised my sword, flashing an arrogant smile just provocative enough to infuriate him.
“I can guess who among you is the liaison conveying Yubas’ instructions to me. What do you think?”
This friend had a decent reaction. As I persistently prodded and needled him, his responses came promptly. He drew his sword with a degree of composure, baring his teeth.
“…The third son of Povius. You’ve just given yourself another reason to die.”
“Hahaha!”
Quite the amusing fellow.
“Oh? Do I get less killed if I only have one reason?”
The cordial exchange ended there. He charged forward with heavy footsteps, swinging his sword down with full force. This could not be easily parried – I needed to deflect it as much as possible.
Gripping the hilt with my right hand and the blade with my left, the moment his blade met mine, I twisted my body forcefully to deflect the strike while shouting:
“John, just aim!”
“Y-yes!”
John’s virtue was that he was too cowardly to flee alone. John was a passive man who did nothing unless instructed. But if told, he would simply do it without thinking.
This was why I brought John along. Despite being short and weak, having at least ADC let me endure to an extent. The enemy’s attention was divided by the bolt’s sharp point wavering about aiming at him.
Thanks to John the ADC, I could deflect each sword swing, each sword point aimed to shoot. The enemy and I clashed our blades in rhythm, fiercely battling each other.
One side was preoccupied with focusing on the ADC, while the other side was putting forth all effort to take the other down – this deadlock dragged on.
“…Povius, you may have learned strategy but not honor!”
I had no leisure to rebut such drivel. Sweat streamed down my cheeks as I constantly scraped our blades together to repel him. The sword gradually felt heavier, and I could no longer hide my waning strength.
The wavering sword tip was clear proof, something this composed attacker would surely notice. Reinvigorated, his eyes shone feverishly.
“It is for a greater cause. Your bloodline, all of this land’s, shall be spilled for it!”
The moment the sword strike came down, my strength failed first.
Ssshhhing…with the ringing of metal losing tension, my hand lost its grip on the sword. Staring at my trembling arms and hands, I mocked myself inwardly.
‘I held out well enough, I suppose.’
I dropped to my knees as if collapsing. Before any interference, the enemy raised his sword high to kill me – whether to stab or swing, I couldn’t tell.
But one thing was certain.
“John.”
He had lost sight of everything else. Even in this chaotic scene, John did not miss my voice. The trigger was pulled, the bolt nocked let loose.
And this attacker’s martial skill was not sufficient enough to deflect arrows or bolts with his sword.
“…!”
The bolt pierced straight into his right eye. Unable to even scream properly from the pain, he staggered. Only then could I retrieve the fallen sword.
With that sword, I precisely drove the tip into his throat. The chilling sensation of taut muscle severed by steel, scraping bone…I shoved him down with all my might, burying the blade deeper.
Until the sword point pierced through his neck to the ground. Only then could I finally stand and straighten my clothes. Of course, I did not omit the usual spiel for the wide-eyed John.
“Well done, John. Thanks to you, we both survived.”
“…”
“John?”
“…Didn’t you collapse from exhaustion just now?”
He must have truly thought I was dying. Unable to hide my laughter, I answered in a bright tone. Our John is so kindhearted, even a fool can see it.
“Feigning crisis is the easiest way to throw off the enemy’s judgment.”
“…”
“It seems the others have finished over there too.”
At some point, the clashing of blades had ceased. The survivors were Sir Topa and the soldiers. Though only two of the original eight soldiers remained, the fact they survived was what mattered.
Sir Topa wiped his sword dripping with blood and fat on his surcoat before bowing his head.
“The reinforcements you spoke of, Young Master.”
“Reinforcements?”
As Sir Topa and the soldiers parted to the sides, those reinforcements came into view. Just three priests in black robes with shaved heads except the top knots, no other accessories except swords at their waists.
But judging by the pungent stench of blood wafting from beneath their sword hilts, they must have played a significant role. One of the three priests, with a kindly appearance and dignified air, stepped forward to speak.
“It went as you said, Young Master Narva.”
***
The kindly priest introduced himself as Sertell.
He then patrolled the camp perimeter like a hound before stopping in front of the horses tied to stakes. Sertell observed the horses calmly grazing on grass and hay with a grave expression.
“It’s the power of Ise.”
“Pardon?”
“Someone used the power of Ise to calm the horses. No, it would be more accurate to say they were rendered oblivious.”
Unsure what Ise was, I blinked as another priest approached to whisper:
“Ise refers to the era when the old gods and their followers ruled this land before Inse.”
“Ah…”
Definitely a tale I had heard before.
The one I brushed off as likely just a fairy tale or myth?
