Chapter 202
Chapter 202
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 202
Chapter Title: Chapter 5-1. These People Here Are Gifts Prepared for You.
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The man of unknown identity glanced at Via as he said this. Bold as brass, he winked at her with one eye. There was no intent to disparage his looks, but the wink simply didn't suit him. Even if only briefly, staying in the elves' castle—where even passersby were paragons of beauty—had made his appearance seem particularly unsightly.
"……."
Via stared at the man coldly, her brow furrowed, and spoke to Judah.
"You need to withdraw now, right?"
Obvious words.
Judah wanted to ask why she was stating the obvious, but there was no time for petty arguments right now.
"Yes. If you're late, you'll get surrounded."
Even now, the enemies marked on the were closing in to complete their encirclement. The elves under Via's command were all elites who could infuse mana into their arrows. He wasn't sure if the units led by the other Spirit Sword wielders could use mana as well, but with their already meager forces, they couldn't afford to lose any more. The thought of not losing even a single one dominated Judah's mind.
The elves under Via's command could all infuse mana into their arrows. They were no different from a special forces unit, and among their scant numbers, they were the ones who absolutely had to be preserved. Losing even one or two would be a waste.
"Oh? Planning to run? Since we've run into fellow Spirit Sword wielders, how about a quick spar?"
The man grinned as if delighted and raised his sword, but Via replied in a voice devoid of emotion.
"As much as I'd like to kill you rather than fight... regrettably, we don't have the time."
She lifted her sword to her left shoulder. Flames engulfed the blade of the slender longsword. Seeing this, the man widened his eyes like he'd witnessed something wondrous, his face lighting up with childlike anticipation. Via gazed at him with the disgust one might reserve for a loathsome insect, then swung the flame-wreathed sword.
Kwaaaaa!
Three streams of fire erupted from Via, and a sudden wind swirled around them, birthing three blazing infernos. Their splendor and heat melted all the surrounding snow and seized every gaze.
"What are you standing around for? Let's withdraw."
At Via's words, Judah nodded and fell back. Whether by some signal, the elves providing covering fire from the rear were already retreating. Checking the , Judah relayed the current situation to her. Via glanced around, nodded once as if trusting the information, and quickened their retreat. The widespread encirclement was tightening.
"Can we break out?"
Judah nodded. Fortunately, with the elves retreating first, they should escape before the net closed. He glanced back. One of the three flame pillars had vanished.
'They're giving chase?'
They were approaching stealthily and swiftly, but the clearly marked their positions. Yet once they successfully broke out before the encirclement tightened, the pursuers all halted. They'd nearly faced a disaster. Via and Judah returned to the castle with the elves.
+ + +
Ort let out a sigh at the sight of the retreating elves.
"Urgh— so close."
He'd chased them, but the elf woman who sent chills down his spine—and the human fleeing alongside her—made him hesitate to charge in.
No matter that he was a Spirit Sword wielder, taking on two was too much. And with elf arrows—imbued with mana—potentially flying from anywhere, pursuing recklessly would mean dying pointlessly without even a proper fight.
"Tch-"
Regretfully, he clicked his tongue, sheathed his sword, and scratched his jaw. Rough stubble prickled his fingers.
A quick scan revealed the infantry who'd been trudging through the darkened forest with torches to form the encirclement now turning back.
Were they disappointed at missing a fight with the elves, or angry at marching like dogs through the night with nothing to show for it?
He wondered which. Just as he thought he should head back too, he spotted a cavalry unit approaching with torches.
Whinnies rang out as the horses halted. Moments ago, he'd been thrilled at the prospect of facing Via and Judah, but now his face filled with annoyance as he eyed the riders. He soon had to change his expression, though.
"Oh! Duke. You came out yourself?"
His employer! The one who'd paid him a massive advance. Looking closer, the torch-bearing cavalry was the duke's personal guard, the secret knight order of Xyran known as Radiance. Duke Iyes, clad in ornate furs, looked down at him from horseback with evident disappointment.
"I did come out myself, Ort. But you let them slip away, so it was all for naught."
"Haha! Surely you're not disappointed—I have to believe that. There were two Spirit Sword wielders; how could I charge in alone? Well, if Star Saint or one of the others from the other units had been here, it might've been different."
Lame excuses.
He'd simply chickened out of fighting, hadn't he? Part of the duke wanted to demand why he hadn't done his job properly.
Even capturing just some of those elves would more than make up for the black knights and mercenaries lost tonight.
If only Ort had bravely charged in and held them, then once the encirclement completed, the combat clan <Iviren> from Calypso and Radiance could have joined and supported him.
Fuming at the squandered heaven-sent opportunity.
But with the war just beginning, he couldn't afford to rebuke one of his few Spirit Sword wielders. Duke Iyes furrowed his brow and let out a small sigh.
"I hope you'll take it seriously next time. We hired Spirit Sword wielders like you believing in your skills, hoping you'd aid us in this war."
Ort grinned.
"Don't worry. Next time, I'll put on a duel so splendid you'll fall for me."
"…I'll look forward to it."
"Ah, heading back?"
As the duke tugged the reins toward the main camp, Ort asked. Obvious, really. Anticipating a night raid, he'd kept the soldiers awake. Without rest now, they couldn't march tomorrow.
And the duke planned to receive reports from the commanders of the eleven prongs advancing separately.
Time was short.
"Indeed. Obvious, isn't it? Haha, then, Duke—mind giving me a ride? Didn't notice when I ran out, but walking back seems exhausting."
A Spirit Sword wielder running at full speed outpaced a horse. What use was that sturdy body if not for this? Duke Iyes glanced at a subordinate. Radiance dismounted as if reading the duke's intent and handed his horse to Ort.
"Thanks."
The duke found Ort's hearty laughter grating. Upon returning to camp, he politely told him to rest well before entering his tent. He brushed off the sentry's salute and stepped inside, fatigue washing over him.
He longed to collapse into the soft bed and sleep, but duties remained. The duke activated the expensive magic orb he'd commissioned. Eleven windows appeared, and soon the commanders of each unit materialized within. After saluting him, they began their reports in turn.
Eight of the eleven units had faced raids. None suffered major losses, and his own—the only one hit at night—was the sole exception.
'Come to think of it, Ort said there were two Spirit Sword wielders.'
As expected of long-lived elves; their population belied the number of Spirit Sword wielders. Spending a fortune to recruit Star Saint, mercenaries, and wandering wielders had been wise. Aside from the raids, no issues arose, so they agreed to press on as planned.
"Hoo-"
After the reports, the duke exhaled lightly, shed his outer coat, and slipped into the soft bed in his tent. He strove to maintain dignity and charisma before others, but alone on his bed, he relaxed.
Well-rested, the duke departed not at dawn but when the sun rode high, linking up with the two other armies that had split off—without incident—and by sunset, arriving before a small fortress likely built by the elves. Sneering at the distant structure, he remarked,
"Never expected a fortress here... Built during the war a century ago? They prepared somewhat, but it's laughable."
Tiny compared to human citadels, in a forest offering no terrain advantage, it seemed no great hurdle. Thorny vines—likely magically forced to grow—clung to the walls, and numerous magic circles were etched, but it was still just a fortress. Time for the siege engines he'd prepared just in case.
"Pass the word to all units: rest thoroughly. Attack as soon as siege engine assembly completes."
The order spread swiftly. Under strict watch, they rotated rests to shed the march's fatigue. The specially crafted, disassembled engines—hauled by wagons—arrived late morning next day and were ready before nightfall. But with darkness too thick, the duke delayed the assault by a day.
He checked reports from the scattered units.
The eleven prongs toward the World Tree had merged midway into five. Star Saint's unit and Cheriu—the combat clan from Langritsa Magic Tower—continued independently toward it.
The rest converged on his main force: three each from east and west. The eastern units finished engine assembly like his, while the western reported an afternoon assault after quicker prep. Lacking time for winter attrition, the duke planned a full assault tomorrow to seize it.
But things didn't go as planned.
"Your Grace! Emergency! You must come out at once!"
The duke jolted awake to the sentry's frantic midnight call, groaning softly with eyes closed. What could warrant waking him? Suppressing irritation, he grabbed his fur coat from the rack—then belatedly noticed the commotion outside. Eyes snapping open, he threw it on and flung open the tent flap, sealed against the wind.
"What's all this racket…!"
Before finishing, he saw it. Massive flames.
Fierce fires raged from within the fortress walls, belching black smoke. The structure he'd planned to take tomorrow was turning to ash. Quick-witted and sharp as ever, even the duke struggled to grasp the situation now.
"This... insane."
Unlike him, he spat a curse.