Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Unfinished Business
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Talent, by its very nature, always finds a way to shine.
Marder was such a case.
Born the son of a hunter, Marder had been close to the bow since childhood.
He played with a toy bow from the time he could barely walk, and by the age of three, he was shooting apples from the tree in his front yard.
At seven years old.
“Straighten your posture. That’s it, good. Take a deep breath. Yes, like that. Hold it. Now, release gently.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, just like that.”
His father began to formally teach young Marder how to shoot a bow.
Two years later, when Marder turned nine.
While out hunting with his father, Marder spotted a badger and raised his bow.
*Whoosh!*
*Thwack!*
“Keng!”
The badger fell with a single cry.
“...!”
Marder never forgot that memory, and he knew he wouldn't until the day he died.
The thrill of his arrow hitting its mark was a pleasure beyond words.
After that, Marder roamed the mountains, fields, and forests with his father, making a name for himself as a young hunter.
Those were the happiest days of Marder’s life.
Those dozen or so years spent learning hunting and archery from his father, hunting together, sharing the bond between father and son…
But happiness did not last forever.
The year Marder turned nineteen.
While out hunting as usual, father and son unfortunately encountered barbarians who had crossed the border.
A desperate chase ensued.
Being skilled hunters, the pair did not go down easily.
But no matter how skilled they were, it was no easy feat for ordinary hunters to completely outrun and survive against barbarian warriors.
“Go!”
“F-Father…!”
Marder’s father sacrificed himself for his son.
“Live! You must survive!”
“But… but…”
“Go! Now!”
Marder fled, swallowing his tears, and ultimately managed to survive.
“He’s alive. My father isn’t one to be taken down so easily.”
Marder had no doubt his father would return safely.
It was a desperate wish, a hope for a miracle.
Cruelly, no miracle occurred.
A few days later.
Marder’s father was found by the knights of Decaron, a cold corpse.
“You shouldn’t look.”
“I will look.”
“It will be a great shock.”
“I have to see him anyway.”
Despite the knight’s attempts to dissuade him, Marder forced himself to look upon his father’s gruesome remains.
“I’ll never… forgive them… Never… I will have my revenge. I swear it…”
Marder made a firm vow.
He would avenge his father with the archery skills he had been taught.
A year later.
Marder enlisted in the army, became a soldier of Decaron, and pleaded to be sent to the Blood-Soaked Land, Kuberin.
His reason was that he could frequently encounter the barbarians he despised.
Sent to Bowden Fortress, Marder fully utilized the hunting and archery skills he had learned from his father, earning recognition for his abilities and distinguishing himself as a member of the reconnaissance team.
And today.
*I won’t let him get away.*
Marder’s eyes followed Bjornsen, who was flying in a parabolic arc.
“Hoo.”
*Take a deep breath. Yes, like that.*
His father’s voice seemed to echo in his ears.
*Hold it… and release gently.*
*Twang!*
Marder’s hand released the bowstring.
Just as his father, a brilliant hunter and archer, had taught him.
*Whoooooosh!*
*Thud!*
The arrow of vengeance struck Bjornsen squarely in the back.
***
*CRASH!*
Bjornsen, who had been soaring over the stockade, was struck by Marder’s arrow and plummeted to the ground.
Although he had already cleared the wall and didn't fall inside the fortress, it was a clear fact that he had been shot down mid-[Thunder Leap].
“...!”
Everyone was stunned.
It was a magnificent shot that made everyone’s eyes widen—friend and foe alike, from the Decaron soldiers to the barbarian warriors.
To think he could shoot down a barbarian warrior in the middle of a [Thunder Leap]!
“Ooooh!”
The gazes of the reconnaissance team members turned toward the watchtower where Marder was positioned.
Marder smoothly lowered the brim of his helmet with the hand that had just released the bowstring, acknowledging his comrades’ looks of awe.
In that time.
“Retreat!”
“Everyone, fall back! Retreat!”
The barbarian warriors receded like the tide.
It was partly due to the command of their leader, Bjornsen, but also because the resistance from Bowden Fortress was so fierce that they could no longer press the attack.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
A roar of victory echoed through Bowden Fortress.
“How do you like that, you bastards!”
“Puhahaha!”
“That’s right! Run like the scared dogs you are! You pathetic barbarian scum!”
The soldiers of Bowden Fortress hurled insults and jeers at the fleeing barbarians, reveling in the joy of their victory.
Meanwhile, Helen was not caught up in the celebration.
As a commander, she knew all too well what needed to be done immediately after a battle.
“Tend to the wounded first! Now!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“The enemy may launch another attack! Post sentries on all sides and maintain a thorough watch on the perimeter!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
There was another who was not drunk on victory.
*He’s not dead.*
Carlyle was certain of Bjornsen’s survival.
It was naive to think a single arrow could kill a 4-star barbarian warrior bearing the [Primal Vitality] tattoo.
It might have been a different story if the arrow had hit his head, but a mere shot to the back was unlikely to be fatal for Bjornsen.
The surest ways to kill a barbarian with the [Primal Vitality] tattoo were to destroy their heart, sever their neck, or shatter their skull.
At least, that was how the Bjornsen from *Overlord* that Carlyle knew worked.
*Should I just let him escape like this?*
Carlyle deliberated.
*If I let him live, he’ll definitely become a problem. He’s a cunning one for a barbarian. He might show up in a few years and cause trouble for Frey.*
Carlyle knew Bjornsen’s character all too well, so he could easily predict what would happen.
The Bjornsen he knew was relentlessly persistent, cunning, and a thorough nuisance.
*He might become a problem for me even before he gets to Frey.*
If Bjornsen decided to seek revenge, there was no telling how much he would torment him.
And Bjornsen was exactly the type of character to do so.
In that case…
*I’ll eliminate him now.*
Carlyle made his decision.
Letting Bjornsen escape now felt like missing a golden opportunity to remove a future headache.
“Dame Helen.”
“We’ll talk later.”
Helen seemed preoccupied with her duties as commander, tending to the wounded.
“This is important.”
“Is there anything more important than tending to the wounded right now?”
“No, but this will only take a moment.”
“Hah.”
Helen let out a sigh, paused what she was doing, and turned to Carlyle.
“What is this important matter, Private Carlyle?”
“Are you planning to just let the enemy commander go?”
“The enemy commander should be dead, no?”
Helen frowned, recalling Bjornsen’s fall.
In her judgment, no one, not even a barbarian warrior, could survive a fall from that height after being shot with an arrow.
As someone who had fought against barbarians in this Blood-Soaked Land for the past five years, her assessment was reasonably sound.
“He’s probably alive. The tattoo in the center of his chest…”
“I know what you’re talking about. The Primal Vitality. Did you think I wouldn't know? Barbarians with that tattoo are notoriously hard to kill. But a fall from that height is a different matter.”
“Then, at least let me confirm the body.”
“I cannot permit it.”
Helen shook her head.
“It’s dangerous outside the fortress. You should know that recklessly venturing out could lead to a counterattack.”
“I have this Succession Sword. If there’s an enemy ambush, I can detect it beforehand…”
“Enough.”
Helen spoke as if there was nothing more to discuss.
“Even if the enemy commander isn’t dead, I will not send you outside the fortress.”
“But…”
“You’ve already achieved sufficient merit in this battle.”
“…”
Carlyle realized Helen had misunderstood him.
She seemed to think he was just itching for more glory, but the problem was he couldn't exactly deny it.
*How can I tell her I have to chase him because he's Bjornsen? She wouldn’t believe me anyway.*
Even Carlyle wouldn't have cared if it had been any other barbarian, so he couldn't think of a suitable excuse.
*There’s no other way… Ah.*
A thought suddenly occurred to Carlyle. He deliberately hardened his expression and spoke to Helen.
“Private Derick died at his hands.”
“That… that is…”
Helen’s expression stiffened.
She had been trying to push aside the thought of Derick’s death while focusing on her duties as commander.
*It’s working.*
Hoping this approach would succeed, Carlyle pressed on.
“Are you telling me we can’t even confirm the status of the enemy commander who killed a member of our reconnaissance team? We have no time to waste. If we move now…”
“Private Derick’s death is a tragedy, but I cannot approve a reckless operation because of it. Private Carlyle, say no more. That is an order.”
“…”
Carlyle had no choice but to back down in the face of Helen’s firmness.
He knew her judgment and decision were by no means wrong.
But then.
“Well said, rookie.”
Reconnaissance Team Leader Begman stepped forward, lending his support to Carlyle’s opinion.
***
Begman was only the beginning.
“I won’t be satisfied until I scalp that bastard tonight!”
Wilson said, fuming.
“We must have our revenge, shouldn’t we?”
Kudo said with a bloodthirsty smile.
“If he’s alive, I’ll put an arrow through his head this time.”
Marder, who had come down from the watchtower, agreed with his fellow team members.
“We can’t just let the one who killed Private Derick go. I want to at least confirm the body.”
Russell, who had recovered from his [Berserker] frenzy, also seemed unable to contain his boiling animosity.
And that wasn't all.
They weren't the only ones in the reconnaissance team.
“Please authorize the operation.”
“We beg you, Dame Helen.”
The rest of the reconnaissance team members earnestly pleaded with Helen to let them track Bjornsen.
“But…”
Helen couldn't make a decision easily.
She knew all too well how dangerous it was to send soldiers outside the fortress in a situation like this.
“Dame Helen, Derick is dead. That good kid died a horrible death, unable to even close his eyes.”
“Sergeant Begman…”
“Please, for the sake of our old friendship, just this once, approve the operation. I’m begging you. I will never make such an unreasonable request again.”
“…”
Helen was clearly conflicted by Begman’s plea.
Their relationship was a special one, and while she might have refused others, turning him down was not so easy.
A moment passed before Helen spoke.
“Mission… approved.”
A smile flickered across Carlyle’s lips.