Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Back into the Fray
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Thrummm…
Grimungandr was vibrating so violently that Carlyle’s waist and thighs began to tremble.
‘This is unusual.’
Grimungandr had never vibrated this intensely before.
Not even during the night battle three days ago had it shaken this hard…
‘I need to move.’
Carlyle sprinted toward the nearest work site.
In situations like this, the role of reconnaissance soldiers like Carlyle was to buy time for their retreating allies.
As elite troops, the reconnaissance soldiers were obligated to fight at the rearguard, helping their comrades retreat safely.
Their role was even more crucial for a unit like the one at Bowden Fortress, where the majority of the forces were non-combat engineers.
“All troops, grab your weapons and move out!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Stay calm! Maintain formation! If you run off trying to save yourself, you’ll be the first to die!”
Following Helen’s orders, the engineers were retreating, abandoning their carts and tools.
Fweee, boom!
Just then, another red signal flare shot up from the same distant location as the first.
‘What in the world is happening?’
Carlyle kept watch at the rear of the retreating engineers, his eyes fixed on the direction of the work site.
Two red flares in a row meant .
In other words, it was a signal to abandon them, that all hope was lost.
They were going to be wiped out anyway, and any rescue attempt would only lead to more meaningless deaths…
‘Damn it.’
Carlyle fought back the urge to run toward the location of the red flares.
If he had been alone, he might have done just that.
But right now, his priority was protecting the allies retreating with him.
He didn't have the luxury of offering help, either.
Vmmm! Vmmm!
The constant vibration of Grimungandr was a clear sign that a large number of barbarian warriors were approaching.
‘Getting out of here is the priority. I need to get these troops back to the fortress safely before I can even think of helping the others.’
A faint glow!
The old, crude bracelet on his left wrist began to glow faintly.
It was the [Whisper of the Earth], an artifact created by the earth spirit shaman, Evangeline, using his grandmother's keepsake.
[Notice: The effect has been activated!]
[Notice: The earth spirit will guide you to a safe path!]
Ding!
A green arrow appeared in the distance, bobbing enticingly at Carlyle.
As if to say, *this way is safe*…
In contrast, a red arrow hovered over the path his allies were taking, clearly marking it as dangerous.
“Wait!”
Carlyle quickly moved from the rear of the column to the front and shouted.
“Not this way. Let’s go that way.”
“What are you talking about?”
The engineer platoon leader frowned.
“That’s the long way around. Two red flares just went off, and you want us to take a detour? Are you insane?”
“That’s not it…”
“Get out of the way, you bastard!”
The engineer platoon leader shoved Carlyle's shoulder hard as he passed.
“You may be one of those high-and-mighty Sigmunds, but you’re still a world-class degenerate and a damn private. Who are you to give orders? You trying to get us all killed?”
“Just hear me out. There’s a reason…”
“Shut up!”
“...!”
“If we all die, will you take responsibility?”
The one who answered was not Carlyle.
“I’ll take responsibility. What about it?”
“You… you’re.”
“He’s just a private, but you won’t even listen to what he has to say? What’s your problem?”
The owner of the unnatural-looking mop of hair.
The one who had stepped forward on Carlyle's behalf was his fellow ‘Barber,’ Wilson.
“B-but…”
“He must have had a reason for saying it. Right?”
At Wilson's question, Carlyle silently nodded.
“See?”
“Hmph.”
“And…”
Wilson whispered in his ear.
“He may be a private, but if you call one of our family a bastard one more time, I’ll kill you. Got it?”
“Gasp.”
“You’ll be scalped by my hand before the barbarians get to you. Understand?”
“Y-yes.”
“Hmm. Now that I look at it, you have a fine head of hair. Care to donate some to me while you’re at it?”
Shake, shake!
The engineer platoon leader trembled like a leaf in the wind, shaking his head violently.
It was no wonder. Wilson was a figure of terror even within the reconnaissance team.
Anyone who had witnessed him scalping barbarian warriors couldn’t help but fear him for his madness and cruelty.
“Hey, rookie.”
Having settled the situation, Wilson turned to Carlyle.
“You’re saying this way is dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll go that way. You take the lead, rookie. I’ll cover the rear.”
“Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for.”
Wilson snorted.
“We’re the ones who should be thanking you. We’ll be saving our skins thanks to you.”
“Haha…”
“What are you waiting for? Lead the way. Let’s go before those bastards catch up to us.”
“This way.”
Carlyle led his allies along the path shown by the [Whisper of the Earth].
* * *
The path shown by the [Whisper of the Earth] was indeed safe.
Vmmm, vmmm!
As Grimungandr vibrated and fell silent in turns, the unit Carlyle led didn't encounter a single enemy until they were nearly at Bowden Fortress.
Despite taking a clear detour, they were able to return to the fortress safely.
But even that had its limits.
“There they are!”
“Get them!”
Just as they neared Bowden Fortress, dozens of barbarian warriors closed in from behind.
“We’ll hold them here.”
Carlyle quickly moved to the rear and, along with Wilson and the other reconnaissance soldiers, confronted the charging barbarian warriors.
“R-run!”
“Aaaah!”
“Eek!”
The engineers screamed and ran for their lives toward the fortress.
“Fight while falling back slowly! If we get surrounded, we’re dead too!”
“Yes, sir!”
The reconnaissance soldiers under Wilson's command bought as much time as possible for the engineers to escape safely.
And among those soldiers, Carlyle's performance was nothing short of dazzling.
Shwwwing!
“Ugh!”
Every time Grimungandr traced an arc through the air, a barbarian warrior would fall, spraying blood.
Carlyle's swordsmanship was exceedingly simple.
It was merely a repetition of the most basic of basics: slashing and stabbing.
And yet, the barbarian warriors were unable to properly defend against his blade.
The sharpness of Grimungandr was a factor, but it was primarily possible because Carlyle’s swordsmanship was so highly refined.
Soul Soother Sword: [Genesis] and [Loyalty].
It was the swordsmanship of a hero who had defended the North, defended Decaron, from the barbarian invasions of the past—a style he had spent a lifetime honing to perfection.
Just like that, Carlyle sent every charging barbarian warrior to their Valhalla.
Like an angel of death.
“Y-you monster.”
Wilson clicked his tongue in amazement as he watched Carlyle fight.
“Is this what they mean when they say some people are just built different…?”
Even though he was a reconnaissance soldier, Wilson was a common soldier, not a knight.
From his perspective, the Sigmunds seemed like a different species altogether.
Even Carlyle, a man said to be such a degenerate that his own family had disowned him, was cutting down barbarian warriors with ease. It was no surprise Wilson thought that way.
Swoosh!
A rain of arrows poured down on the barbarian warriors.
“We’ll provide cover! Retreat immediately! Now!”
Helen's shout came from the distant fortress.
“Let’s go! Run!”
“Yes, sir!”
The reconnaissance soldiers sprinted toward Bowden Fortress in unison.
The barbarian warriors didn't dare pursue them.
The fortress was too close to continue the chase, and they lacked the numbers to press on through the Decaron army's covering fire.
K-thump!
With Carlyle the last one through, the wide-open castle gate slammed shut.
[Notice: The progress of has reached 70%! (7/10)]
“Gasp, gasp!”
“Pant, pant, pant!”
The reconnaissance soldiers who had returned to the fortress gasped for breath.
They had sprinted nearly a hundred meters at full speed; it was only natural for them to be panting, no matter how great their stamina.
Only one person.
Carlyle alone seemed as calm as ever.
This was thanks to the numerous potions he had drunk from the Sigmund family's secret vault before coming to the battlefield, which had permanently increased his endurance.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m too sticky.”
In response to Wilson’s question, Carlyle wiped at the blood caked on his face with his hand.
“I’m so covered in it that a handkerchief won’t do. I’m going to wash it off with some water.”
Just how many had he cut down in that short time…?
It was no exaggeration to say Carlyle was drenched in blood, as if he had a bucket of it dumped on him.
And yet, there was a strange charm to it.
His handsome face was covered in blood, but rather than looking grotesque, he exuded a decadent sort of beauty.
So much so that even Wilson couldn't help but compliment him.
“Damn, you’re handsome.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Ah, well. Thank you.”
Carlyle scratched the back of his head awkwardly and headed straight for the well.
“He’s so shy.”
Wilson smirked.
* * *
Though they had returned safely to the fortress, Wilson seemed to have no intention of resting.
“Commander Helen.”
“Speak, Corporal Wilson.”
“Requesting permission to redeploy. I will go and bring back our comrades.”
“That is…”
Helen couldn't make a quick decision.
Sending troops who had just returned safely back out was an excessively harsh order.
It was that dangerous outside the fortress.
They still didn't know exactly what was happening, but with two red flares, she couldn't rashly send out troops.
Nevertheless, the fact that Wilson requested to redeploy without hesitation was a testament to his bravery as a reconnaissance soldier.
“If you truly wish to redeploy… I will permit volunteers to go.”
“Thank you.”
Wilson looked back at the other reconnaissance soldiers.
“You all heard her. If you’ve caught your breath, let’s go.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’re coming.”
“Gods, my back and knees.”
One by one, the reconnaissance soldiers dusted themselves off and got to their feet.
“Where are you going?”
Carlyle, having returned from washing the blood off at the well, asked Wilson.
“You’re back? We’re going to get our comrades.”
“Ah.”
“What about you? You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Only volunteers are redeploying.”
“Of course I’m going.”
Carlyle didn't shy away from redeploying.
‘It doesn't matter if I die out there or in here. It's just a matter of dying a little sooner or a little later.’
Judging by the way things were going, the fall of the fortress was a foregone conclusion unless reinforcements arrived immediately.
He was certain that in a few hours, a massive enemy force would arrive and begin a siege. And that would be the end.
Besides, it was no exaggeration to say that Carlyle was the only one who could save their comrades fighting for their lives outside the fortress.
Not just because of his combat prowess, but because he was the only one who could guide them along a safe path.
If there had been someone else to take his place, Carlyle's personality was such that he wouldn't have stepped up…
“Kid. The more I see of you, the more I like you.”
Wilson grinned at Carlyle.
‘Ugh.’
Carlyle found Wilson's smile unsettling.
He probably meant it as a sign of favor, but to Carlyle, the unnatural wig made it look nothing short of sinister.
“Hey! Open the gate!”
“Yes, sir!”
The reconnaissance soldiers headed out the gate.
“Let’s go. To our deaths.”
A grin spread across Wilson’s lips as he marched toward certain death—the smile of a brave warrior who did not fear it.