17. Atop the Tower of the Necromancer Count's Castle
17. Atop the tower of the Necromancer Count's castle. A beastkin woman gazed down at the fierce battle below with lonely, sorrowful eyes. Regina stared relentlessly in one direction with a deeply worried expression.
There stood Ian, his back soaked in blood, sweat pouring down as he seemed to have lost consciousness. Supporting and protecting him was a black-haired woman who had drawn her sword, fending off charging enemies and incoming arrows.
"......Ugh."
How the hell did things end up like this? Ian should have safely returned to the people peacefully waiting for him. No, what was the point of denying it? Regina knew everything.
She knew this was a trap dug by the count. That Ian had been used as bait and fallen into it. And that she, knowing all this, had no choice but to stand by and watch.
The knight escorting Ian to his companions had swung his sword at his back long ago—and she'd been watching from this spot as he left. On the count's orders, she'd been waiting here from the start.
I'd rather the count's trap had failed.
Regina bit her lip hard, recalling the words the count had spoken when he summoned her.
"Tomorrow, when they come to pick him up, we'll ambush them."
"Uh...?!"
Didn't he say the negotiations went well? An ambush? Tilting her head in confusion, the count continued.
"Exactly as it sounds. They'll be off guard, thinking the deal's done. Even if they're not, it doesn't matter. We've got a few more cards up our sleeve anyway."
"U, uaa...?"
"Regina, stay up on the tower. If our forces start losing ground, provide support."
With that command, the count glanced her up and down and added in a threatening tone,
"I know you like that guy quite a bit, Regina. But he's still the enemy. Remember that. If you disobey my orders and help him on your own, I'll punish Jubi."
Under that threat, Regina could only nod silently. The inescapable instinct of a beastkin. Of course, the drive to protect the child... and more.
"Sis... that guy down there... Isn't that Ian oppa? Is it really okay not to help him?"
Jubi's question. Her eyes and tone felt a bit different from her usual monotone girlishness. But with her mind in turmoil, Regina didn't dwell on it. She barely managed a nod without moving.
"......Uaa."
"Really?"
This tiny child looking up at her trembling hands with concern—she couldn't bear to imagine her suffering because of Regina's mistake.
Regina had no choice but to pretend ignorance while watching Ian get ambushed. No, if pretending was all it took, she'd count herself lucky. She might even have to join the assault, potentially killing him herself.
If the situation turned dire, the count's order was for her to join the attack too. All Regina could do was...
"......Ugh."
...hope she wouldn't have to step in. A little. A lot. Desperately.
The number of oncoming enemies was formidable. Surrounded by the count's army, Karlson and the Red Evil Mercenaries, along with Behena and her knights and soldiers, shrank back slightly at the encircling foe.
Behena approached Karlson, trembling.
"Wh-what do we do, Karlson?"
"Don't worry, Lady Behena."
Karlson reassured her, then bellowed to his men and the nearby soldiers.
"Everyone, get it together! The enemy's got numbers, sure, but they're all rabble! We can handle this! Hell, this is familiar territory, isn't it? Snap out of it! No need to fear just 'cause we got ambushed after all this time!"
As Karlson said, the Red Evil Mercenaries had always fought as an elite few. They'd faced outnumbered enemies far more often than not—enough to count on one hand otherwise.
For them to cower at a mere numerical disadvantage would deny all their hard-earned experience.
"Yeah, those guys are all weaklings anyway, right?"
"When have we ever picked fights based on numbers?"
One by one, gripping their weapons tighter, the Red Evil Mercenaries stepped forward. The battle began.
Under Karlson's command, they overwhelmed the count's soldiers, pushing them back swiftly. The enemy lines crumbled. The frail soldiers died without proper resistance to the mercenaries' blades.
"Good, keep it up like this!"
Break through quick and link up with the queen. Just as Karlson thought victory was in hand—
"Lady Behena's orders! Attack those bastards!"
"Gaaahhh...!"
"What the fuck, you traitors!"
"Betrayal! Betrayal!"
Several of Behena's vassals and knights had turned their soldiers against their allies. And over half of Behena's troops at that. Lady Behena's orders?!
The shocked Behena cried out.
"Wh-what are you doing?! Sir Hebern!"
"Just wait a moment, Lady Behena! We'll come help soon! We'll wipe out these Red Evil scum on your orders!"
"Wh-what nonsense?! When did I ever give such a ridiculous command...!"
Behena paled, her face drained of color.
"Karlson! N-no, I didn't...!"
Frantic explanation, fearing he might think she'd betrayed them. But Karlson nodded as if he'd known all along.
"No need to worry. I know, Lady Behena. It's their obvious ploy."
As if utterly convinced she couldn't have betrayed them. Because the betrayers? They'd planned it from the start. And they'd attacked the mercenaries, not Behena's own soldiers. Karlson wasn't dumb enough to fall for such a crude wedge tactic.
...Should've purged them sooner. They'd gone quiet after the queen arrived with her group, so he'd let it slide. That was the mistake.
"Those are the ones on the list Kalon passed us—the ones plotting betrayal before our queen even arrived, right?"
"Y-yes..."
Leaving the answering Behena behind, Karlson racked his brain. The situation was dire. But the real problem wasn't the betrayal itself.
Treachery hurt in a manpower crunch, sure... but linking up with Bella would solve it. The biggest issue now was...
The lord consort took a blade to the back.
Ian had been struck in a cowardly ambush before the encirclement. Then the enemy swarmed, so no one knew his status after. But the blood spraying from his back alone screamed fatal wound. He needed treatment immediately.
Time's critical...
They couldn't stay pinned here forever. Karlson gritted his teeth and roared.
"Kalon...! Kalon, where are you?!"
He was calling his own brother, the mercenaries' vice-captain. Slicing through charging foes, Kalon beheaded his opponent and shouted back.
"Brother! Here!"
"Take your squad and break through to the lord! We need to rescue the consort now."
"Yes, brother! Everyone, follow me this way!"
Kalon led his subordinates toward Bella's battlefield.
...That leaves Kalon to handle that side.
Now, secure an escape route for when the queen rescued the consort—and ensure key figure Behena's safe evacuation.
"Lady Behena."
"Yes?"
"Stick right behind me. If they capture you, we lose our legitimacy."
"A-ah, yes! Got it!"
Behena's nodding face flushed beet red, her shy demeanor like a lone flower blooming amid the carnage. But Karlson paid her no mind. To him...
"We'll break through the opposite side! Clear a path so the queen can escape with the consort and her group the moment they're safe!"
"Yes...!"
...his queen, to whom he pledged utter loyalty, and her true love, the consort. Their happiness and radiant future mattered more. A loyal vassal's mindset, blind to his own life.
"Out of the way, you vermin!"
The Red Evil Mercenaries charged to open a path for their queen and consort. But it didn't last.
After cutting down foes for what felt like ages...
"What? Why the fuck are these bastards coming back to life?!"
"Shit, undead! There's a necromancer in the enemy ranks!"
The ones they'd surely killed—or left combat-incapable—were rising again. Even their own fallen soldiers...
The more they killed, the more revived. If barely clinging to life, the count's knights beheaded them into corpses.
No sides mattered—just cannon fodder. Rebel, and they died for it; can't fight, died anyway. Brutal.
And it wasn't just that. The moment undead appeared, arrows flew indiscriminately. Fodder to resurrect anyway? But those arrows were lethally accurate, aimed to kill them first.
Undead and soldiers charging. Now arrows too. Karlson cleaved a zombie soldier and clicked his tongue.
"......Goddamn it. What kind of bullshit is this."
Betrayal followed by necromancers. The polar opposite of his ironclad loyalty—a utterly hopeless situation.