Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: The Lingering Gaze
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Crushed by the boulder, Bjornsen died instantly, never to rise again.
His wide-open eyes seemed filled with lingering resentment.
*Indeed.*
Carlyle thought he understood why Bjornsen couldn't close his eyes.
Denied entry to Valhalla even in death, it must have been the most agonizing end for him.
“Well done, rookie.”
Begman approached and placed a hand on Carlyle’s shoulder.
“Thanks to you, we’ve avenged Derek.”
“It was nothing.”
Carlyle didn't feel smug.
He had only exchanged greetings with Derek once.
He had only spoken of avenging him to sway Helen and get the mission approved.
A pretext to kill Bjornsen.
“But why did you do it like that?”
“Do what?”
“I mean, why’d you do *this* to the bastard?”
Begman asked, gesturing toward Bjornsen’s corpse, pulped by the rock.
“I’m not sure.”
Carlyle replied as if he didn't know.
“For some reason, I felt like I had to give him the same treatment.”
“Vicious.”
“Suddenly?”
“It’s not easy to act like that unless you’re a real piece of work, especially when it wasn’t even someone you were close to who died. And what you said to that barbarian bastard—that must have been more painful than death for him.”
“…”
Carlyle didn't answer.
He had never really thought of himself as a ruthless person.
“Anyway, well done.”
“Wasn’t that an insult?”
“Why would that be an insult? It’s a compliment.”
“…?”
“A member of the reconnaissance team is supposed to be vicious.”
Begman said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Damn right.”
Wilson, who usually looked down on Carlyle, nodded in agreement with Begman.
“This time, I’m impressed, rookie.”
Wilson flashed a grin at Carlyle.
It seemed Carlyle's idea to crush Bjornsen with a boulder had really appealed to him.
“Alright, now that Derek’s been avenged, let’s pack up and head back.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Begman turned to the team members and declared the mission complete.
*Ding!*
A notification window appeared before Carlyle’s eyes.
[Notification: Progress for has reached 20%! (2/10)]
* * *
The reconnaissance team beheaded Bjornsen, put his head in a bag, and returned directly to the fortress.
Dragging the entire mangled corpse back would have been a monumental effort, so they opted to just take the head.
As soon as he returned to the fortress, Begman reported to Helen, who was overseeing the cleanup of the battlefield, and presented Bjornsen’s head.
“Here is the head of the enemy commander.”
“So you succeeded.”
Helen was visibly surprised.
She had believed the chances of killing him were extremely low, even if they managed to find him alive.
“Private Carlyle’s contribution was significant.”
“…Is that so.”
Helen’s gaze shifted to Carlyle.
“Private Carlyle.”
“Yes, Sir Helen.”
“Good… work.”
Helen forced herself to praise Carlyle.
Even acknowledging him when she approved the mission had been difficult; praising him now seemed to be a true ordeal.
“Your actions will be reported to high command without embellishment.”
“Yes, Sir Helen.”
“And…”
Helen’s gaze swept over the reconnaissance team.
“As the commander of this fortress, I, Helen, commend the courage and efforts of the reconnaissance team.”
After speaking, Helen ordered Bjornsen’s head to be displayed before the fortress gate.
Having killed the enemy commander and taken his head, it was standard practice to display it to boost allied morale and demoralize the enemy.
“Waaaaaaaaaaah!”
A roar erupted from the soldiers as they saw Bjornsen’s head being mounted.
“Hah! Ptui!”
“Serves you right!”
“Good riddance, you bastard!”
The soldiers vented their fury, cursing, spitting, and throwing stones at Bjornsen’s head.
For all he knew, Bjornsen’s head would hang on the wall for as long as a month, subjected to all manner of desecration.
*What’s the big deal about a corpse?*
Carlyle had no interest in Bjornsen’s head.
To him, the severed head was just a piece of rotting flesh, nothing more than a grotesque ornament.
But someone saw through Carlyle’s thoughts.
“You don’t understand, do you?”
Kudo asked, approaching him.
“I don’t really understand it myself. It’s just a corpse, after all, and venting on it won’t change anything. But it does seem to be a rather efficient method.”
“An efficient method…?”
“Does it make more sense if you think of it as a latrine? A latrine for the soldiers to relieve their emotions. Things like… anger, hatred, or the desire for revenge.”
“Ah.”
Carlyle understood Kudo’s meaning and nodded.
He realized that if it served as an outlet for the emotions built up on this hellish battlefield, then displaying the enemy commander’s head wasn’t such a bad idea.
“So, how does it feel? Experiencing a proper battle.”
“I wouldn’t say I have any grand feelings about it… just that I need to get stronger to survive.”
Carlyle said, recalling his fight with Bjornsen.
He was lucky to have the team with him. If it had been one-on-one, Carlyle would have been the one to die.
And that was against a mere 4-star barbarian warrior.
“Heh.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“I laughed because that’s such a Sigmund-like answer.”
“…?”
“It must be an instinct etched into your bloodline. You’ve always been like this. The Sigmunds constantly pursue and crave strength.”
“Is that so.”
Carlyle couldn’t agree with Kudo.
Strictly speaking, he wasn’t a Sigmund.
“Does it not trouble you? Or frighten you?”
“Not at all.”
“Just like a Sigmund.”
Instead of replying, Carlyle gave Kudo a suspicious look.
*Just from the way he talks, there's no way he's a mere soldier. Hmm.*
Kudo was, without a doubt, an incredibly suspicious character.
A mere soldier shouldn't be able to wield aura.
It also made no sense that such a person had been knocked out by Bjornsen’s headbutt.
*Is he someone I know?*
He wracked his brain, but nothing came to mind.
It was highly likely that Kudo was a figure from the past who didn't exist in the timeline of the game [Overlord].
It wasn't just Kudo.
The entire Bowden Fortress was like that.
At the start of the game [Overlord], Bowden Fortress was already barbarian territory.
Which meant…
*They might all be dead men walking.*
Carlyle thought that might just be the case.
* * *
The next day.
Rain began to pour from the morning on.
Helen ordered the bodies of the fallen to be placed in a cave about a kilometer from the fortress.
Normally, they would have been sent straight to Decaron, but it was impossible to travel the nearly 150 kilometers in such harsh weather.
Besides, they couldn't keep the rapidly decaying bodies inside the fortress.
“Dammit. If we just had one mage, we wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“What do you expect in a pissant little fortress like this?”
“True enough.”
The soldiers assigned to body recovery lamented the lack of a mage at Bowden Fortress.
If there were a mage, they could use preservation magic to stop the bodies from decaying, and they wouldn't have to move them to the cave…
Meanwhile, the reconnaissance team members gathered before Derek’s body, each holding a glass of strong vodka.
“To Derek.”
“To Derek.”
The team members paid their respects to Derek, then downed their vodka in one gulp.
*Why in the world do northerners drink this strong stuff?*
Carlyle grimaced.
The smell of the cheap vodka was so strong it felt less like alcohol and more like poison.
It burned all the way from his throat to the pit of his stomach.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The sappers moved a large boulder to seal the cave entrance.
This was to prevent monsters or beasts, drawn by the scent of death, from getting in and devouring the corpses.
Perhaps for that reason, the surface of the boulder was covered in what looked like claw marks from monsters or beasts.
*They shouldn't be leaving them here.*
Carlyle had a bad feeling about leaving the bodies of the fallen outside the fortress.
Why?
Because this area was the domain of the evil necromancer, Crowley.
Recalling that his specialty was creating and commanding the undead, this didn't seem like a very good idea.
*Isn't this like leaving fish with a cat?*
Despite his thoughts, Carlyle decided to keep quiet, as he couldn't think of a good excuse to persuade Helen otherwise.
It also seemed they had been using the cave as a temporary morgue for years without incident, and he didn't want to stir up trouble for no reason.
“Reporting. The entire reconnaissance team has completed the interment of the fallen and returned safely.”
“Good work.”
Helen’s expression was grim as she received Begman’s report.
“Is something wrong, Sir Helen?”
“A messenger just left.”
“Don’t tell me.”
Begman frowned.
The faces of the reconnaissance soldiers contorted in dismay.
“You know how dangerous it is to force an operation in this weather, don’t you?”
“This isn’t the first time.”
“Even so, it hasn’t even been 24 hours since the battle, and now another operation…”
“They say mana stone production is low. We have no choice.”
Helen closed her eyes, looking pained herself.
“But our unit’s production is sufficient.”
“High command’s explanation is that other units have been fighting the barbarians frequently, so their production has fallen short.”
Wilson burst out angrily.
“Goddammit! Why do we have to make up for the incompetence of other units!”
“That’s right!”
The other team members echoed Wilson, voicing their complaints.
But that was short-lived.
“Everyone, quiet!”
Begman roared, silencing the team.
“You all know perfectly well that Sir Helen isn’t happy about this either! We are soldiers of Decaron, the honorable reconnaissance team. We live and die by orders. Have you forgotten?”
“…”
Begman’s outburst silenced the soldiers.
“…There will be a mission briefing in one hour. Rest until then,”
Helen seemed to find it difficult to give the order, leaving after she spoke.
“A soldier’s got to do what he’s told. What choice do we have? Fuuuck.”
“Dammit.”
“Days like this are the most dangerous.”
Carlyle stepped outside for a moment to escape the tense atmosphere in the barracks.
*Mining for mana stones in this rain.*
*Swoooosh!*
The downpour had intensified to the point where he could barely see in front of him.
*Fsssh!*
Looking to the side, he saw Kudo leaning against a wall, lighting a cigarette.
“Hooo.”
Kudo exhaled a cloud of smoke and offered him the pack.
“Care for one?”
“If you’re offering.”
Kudo lit Carlyle’s cigarette for him.
“Unexpected. Knights usually refuse when offered a cigarette.”
“I’m just a lowly private.”
“That’s true.”
Kudo let out a small snort.
“Were you a smoker before?”
“I just didn’t feel like refusing.”
The reason Carlyle answered that way was because he had been a smoker in his previous life.
Since becoming Carlyle van Sigmund, he had unintentionally been abstaining.
* * *
*Swoooosh!*
Meanwhile, Bjornsen’s head, displayed before the fortress, was still being battered by the torrential rain, its eyes wide open.
*Drip, drip.*
As the rain streamed endlessly down from Bjornsen’s wide eyes,
*Blink, blink.*
Bjornsen’s eyelids flickered as if blinking on and off.
Then, the lifeless, glazed eyes slowly turned.
The dead man’s gaze fixed upon the reconnaissance team’s barracks.
More precisely, upon Carlyle, who was sharing a cigarette and conversation with Kudo…