Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Trap (2)
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Her heart sank at the sight of flames climbing against the darkness.
“…….”
Iriel and Allen exchanged glances, unable to speak. They stared at each other's dazed faces for a moment before snapping back to reality.
This was no time to freeze.
Scanning the surroundings urgently, Iriel spotted a horn trumpet on a bandit's corpse—the signal for enemy intrusion.
She snatched it up and blew into the narrow tube with all her might, as if emptying her lungs.
Bwooooo—!
A heavy resonance, like a whale's cry, echoed through the mountain stronghold.
“Enemies! The Imperial Army is attacking!”
Allen sprinted along the paths, shouting like a madman. The stronghold, deep in slumber, began to stir.
Bwooooo—!
Iriel kept blowing the horn toward the stronghold while watching the Imperial Army's movements. The torchlights flickered uncertainly, as if their presence had caught the enemy off guard.
Soon, the marching pace quickened.
The steady stream of flames surged forward like rapids.
It seemed she'd provoked them, but waking the bandits came first. No choice.
“What's going on!”
Bandits roused from sleep came rushing over, yelling.
Spotting their fallen comrades, they climbed the stockade in an instant and gaped at the Imperial Army entering via the narrow cliff path, speechless.
“Help me with this!”
Iriel shouted at them.
She was straining to close a gate someone had flung wide open.
The stockade blocking the stronghold's front wasn't as sturdy as a stone wall, but it could hold the enemy back for a bit.
Thud!
With the bandits' help, Iriel shut the gate. She scampered up the stockade like a squirrel.
The Imperial Army was closing in fast.
Even now, people stumbling out onto the paths milled about in confusion.
Allen and a few others dashed around frantically, but everyone was disoriented.
The commander's bandits had all been deployed on the assassination mission.
At this rate, they'd collapse without proper defense.
Iriel glanced between the advancing Imperial Army and the chaos inside the stronghold, biting her lower lip.
Moments later, having made a decision, she grabbed a bandit and yelled.
“We can't hold here!”
“What?”
“To the inner fortress.”
“You mean abandon this?”
The bandit’s eyes widened.
“We're done for like this! We need to fall back, regroup our forces!”
“B-but!”
The bandits exchanged looks upon hearing her.
Abandon the stockade and head blindly to the inner fortress...?
They couldn't be sure it was best.
Iriel bellowed at them.
“Hurry! You all want to die? Run to the inner fortress! Grab anything usable as a weapon! Tell everyone else! Now!”
Her confident shout made them nod hesitantly and follow.
“To the inner fortress!”
“Grab all usable weapons!”
“We'll fight back from the inner fortress!”
A clear order to the bewildered crowd sent them scurrying toward the inner fortress.
Watching them obey, Iriel felt unease wash over her.
She wasn't entirely sure of her choice either.
‘Either way, it's death.’
She steeled herself.
She didn't know if abandoning the stockade was wise, but its strength lay in blocking the narrow path up the cliff.
But it was too late for that now.
They'd be overrun before proper defenses were set.
That meant annihilation.
The inner fortress, though, was defensible, with narrow, sturdy walls ideal for concentrating firepower.
Better to fight properly than collapse in disarray.
No guarantee how long they'd last, though.
Seventy or so bandits remained in the stronghold.
Fortunately, the inner fortress had plenty of bows and arrows.
Those who rushed there climbed the walls to assess the situation.
Allen and Iriel finally faced each other again.
No battle had started, yet sweat beaded on their foreheads. But their minds were sharp now, unlike before.
Boom!
A distant crash—the gate shattering. The stockade had bought time, but only briefly.
As it crumbled, black shadows illuminated by torches poured in like a burst dam.
At least three hundred, easy.
Everyone stared, rigid.
Iriel asked Allen.
“...When will Sir Jenes arrive?”
“Something might've held them up. He could come sooner than expected.”
Iriel nodded. Circumstances suggested their group had fallen into a trap too. If there was a traitor in the stronghold, the main base wouldn't be safe either—they could infer that.
He'd surely hasten his pace.
Iriel said.
“Let's hold out through the night, at least.”
Unsure if Jenes would make it in time, he was still their only hope.
If they stayed alive, he'd save them somehow.
But the bandits' eyes trembled with anxiety, unlike theirs.
“Sh-should we surrender...?”
Some were already wavering.
“Everyone!”
Iriel drew their attention. She looked at the bandits—old folks, anyone who could fight, clutching whatever they had, out here.
A ragtag bunch, no doubt.
She said.
“Let's hold till dawn! The assassination team will return for sure.”
“And that fixes what!”
One bandit shouted.
Allen stepped up.
“Sir Jenes, who went with them, once slaughtered hundreds of bandits alone. A top-class Sword Master on the continent! Just till dawn! We can survive!”
“But can he make it by dawn? Not enough time.”
Iriel shook her head at their skepticism.
“Don't worry. He'll make it!”
...He has to.
She swallowed the rest.
Truth was, she didn't know when—or if—Jenes knew of this.
But they needed a firm goal to focus for battle.
For them, and her.
Their resolved gazes turned forward.
The Imperial Army now emerged clearly from the dark.
“Hold till dawn, somehow!”
“Let's try, damn it!”
“The boss'll come by then!”
A clear goal lifted their morale, thankfully.
* * *
A fierce gust scattered into a whirlwind.
The surroundings blurred into a rush.
I raced through the dark night at full speed.
Each step devoured space.
It had been ages since I'd run like this.
Or felt this urgency.
For the first time in forever, anxiety gnawed at me.
An emotion I'd buried deep, like junk in a drawer.
Having things to protect was such a hassle.
Could those two hold out?
The outer defenses were stockades, with an earthen wall linking cliff gaps.
Terrain favored few defenders for a siege, but a traitor lurked in the main base.
If ambushed in sleep, their forces wouldn't last an hour.
No wonder I was uneasy.
Still, I trusted those two to find a way.
Captured or not, just stay alive.
I'd rescue them then.
They knew that.
Yet anxiety lingered despite the thought.
My mind was already at the stronghold; progress felt insufficient.
My training was lacking.
Feeling my own shortcomings after so long, I pushed harder.
Thud!
Heavy steps propelled the world backward, faster, faster.
* * *
Boom!
The Imperial Army rammed the stockade timbers into the gate like a battering ram. Each impact shook it, spewing dust.
Defenders braced against it with their bodies, only to be flung back and press again.
Luckily, the night raid meant scant siege preparations.
Otherwise, they'd have fallen sooner.
Iriel held the firm earthen wall, repelling the enemy.
Her arrow loosed; an Imperial soldier's throat pierced, he crumpled.
But most shafts failed against shields and armor.
The battlefield dragged into tedium.
The narrow path to the wall prevented mass assaults; fighting concentrated near the gate.
A fortress linking cliff crevices—natural.
Few defenders sufficed.
But limits loomed fast.
Skill and numbers gap was vast.
Bandits versus regulars—predictable.
Without walls, they'd have folded instantly.
Kablooey!
A deafening boom; the ram's tip pierced the gate.
Pulled back, it tore a chunk free, revealing Imperial ranks beyond.
“We must hold the gate! It breaks, we're done!”
Allen yelled, pressed close.
Archers atop walls supported, but insufficient.
Enemies raised shields overhead, deflecting arrows easily.
Thud! Boom!
The ram kept shredding.
Kablooey!
Another roar shook the inner fortress.
The ram fully breached; sturdy oak splintered open.
“Fall back!”
Allen slashed a few entering soldiers. But the dam burst.
Imperials flooded in.
“Uwaaa—!”
“Slay the bandits!”
“Retreat!”
“Kill them all!”
“Fall back, everyone!”
Allies and foes clamored as one.
Wall defenders leaped down to stem the tide, but overwhelmed.
“Fall back! Everyone, fall back!”
“Argh!”
Gate guards fell pierced in seconds.
Holding the gate was impossible.
Bandits retreated, clustering at the rear minor stronghold. No strategy—just pushed there.
Women, children, elders unfit for battle sheltered there.
Last line of defense.
Imperials surrounded them, weapons aimed.
Battlefield halted.
Victory decided, really.
“Filthy vermin. End of the line.”
Their ranks parted; a man stepped forward. Short brown hair.
Towering height made him visible from afar, head above others.
He addressed the bandits.
“Those wanting life, drop weapons and surrender. Last chance.”
Allen and Iriel exchanged looks, hesitating. Stay alive, Jenes would save them.
Then the commander's gaze hit Iriel.
“Hoh, boy or girl?”
Lust gleamed in his eyes.
Iriel's brow furrowed fiercely.
“That dog's got an eye for it.”
She gripped her sword anew, abandoning surrender.
No weakened resolve now.
Surrender meant they'd ravage survivors—obvious.
“Better die than live as enemy dogs!”
A bandit realized, shouting boldly.
They knew their fate.
“Fuck it! Come on, bastards!”
Excited ones gripped weapons, cursing.
Allen gave Iriel a wry smile.
“Damn. Let's hold somehow. Can't die here.”
Iriel nodded.
She didn't want to die like this.
“We'll live, for sure.”
They leaned on each other, facing the foe.
“Idiots anyway. Spare women and kids, kill the rest!”
Imperials surged on command. They'd seen comrades die at the wall—battle-mad.
“I'll handle you myself.”
The commander licked his lips, advancing. Revulsion crawled over her like bugs.
“I'm your opponent. Earn your size.”
Allen blocked Iriel.
“Together.”
Iriel stood beside, sword ready.
His insignia: captain.
Expert beginner at least.
Too much for one.
“Not bad for bandits?”
He eyed them leisurely, intrigued. They stiffened; his aura fiercer than expected.
“Shall we see your skill?”
He charged, smirking.
Boom! Kablooey!
Blades tangled in a flash.
Silver flashes sparked everywhere, shockwaves booming.
“...Ngh.”
Iriel, clashing with his sword, groaned short, retreating. Delicate brows knit tight. Wrist ached heavy.
Even with Allen.
...Damn.
Bad thoughts flashed.
Few clashes revealed the outcome. Iriel shoved them down, gripping tight.
“Kekeke. Prettier up close. Never thought a beauty in these hills. Jackpot. You'll be my wife.”
“Fuck off and die. I'll cut that dangling middle, make you a eunuch. Wait up.”
Iriel raised her sword.
Dead serious, no bluff.
She vowed to emasculate him, win or lose.
“Swinging that, maybe you lack it too?”
Allen chimed in, chuckling.
“Still got a mouth.”
But the man stayed relaxed amid taunts. Gap clear.
High mana user to Expert beginner—one step, thick wall.
He seemed past peak beginner, eyeing mid.
Big difference.
Boom! Kaboom!
Steel clanged heavy. He parried their joint assault leisurely, pressing back.
Allen, clashing, groaned retreating; his blade pursued fiercely.
Iriel exploited the gap, thrusting.
Instantly, his sword snaked toward her.
‘Trap!’
Scraaaape!
Blades sparked. Iriel bit her lip, deflecting forcefully. Strain drew blood from her mouth.
Kablooey!
Then blade shades erupted, whirlwind.
Storm blades flung Allen and Iriel rolling. Aura rippled on his sword.
‘Shit.’
Desperate teamwork failed.
Iriel gnashed, rising. Sword hand trembled. Allen leaned on his, struggling up.
“Time to end it?”
Still casual. Breathing rougher, but that's it. Outcome sealed.
Dire.
Couldn't handle even together.
Other bandits swept away too.
Balance tipped.
Obvious.
Walls balanced forces. Breach decided it.
They'd aimed for dawn, but dark lingered; each minute eternal.
‘What now?’
No way out.
Iriel bit her lip hard.
No breakthrough.
“Done rebelling? All that fuss, nothing special?”
He grinned, approaching. Face demonic, vile.
“Till the end.”
Allen said; Iriel righted her sword forcibly. Couldn't lose to scum. But he loomed gigantic.
Then a black shadow blocked.
Lightning plunged vertically.
Boom!
Ground cracked spiderwebbed, dust billowing.
Sudden boom stilled the field; eyes turned.
Dust cleared with wind.
Familiar back silhouette emerged.
All worries scattered like the dust.
Eyes wide, thrilled, Iriel and Allen shouted in unison.
“Sir Jenes!”