Chapter 10
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Broomstick War
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"Wait, just hear me out for a second. Bix! There are circumstances beyond my control here...!"
Thwack!
"Guh!"
Walter scrambled toward the nearest person, Bix, desperately begging for his life. In response, Bix let his fist do the talking.
Walter, his face battered by Bix's punch, spitting out broken teeth and a stream of blood from his nose, crawled toward someone else. This time, it was Garet he pleaded with.
"G-Garet! You'd understand my position, right? I had no choice—it was to protect my family! Those bastards threatened to kill them all...!"
"Shut your damn mouth!"
Thwack!
Garet kicked Walter square in the head with all her might, like she was punting a soccer ball.
As Walter lay there dazed from the blow, unable to even gather his wits, Garet unleashed a torrent of abuse.
"You claim to care about your family, yet you left them here to fend for themselves while you tried to slink away alone? You trash!"
"H-Henderson!"
Walter crawled toward Henderson as a last resort, slithering like a worm...
"Here, take this money! It's all yours! Just please spare me...!"
"Whose money is this?"
"H-Huh?"
"I said, whose fucking money is this, you piece of shit?!"
Henderson yanked Walter up by the collar with terrifying force and slammed his face into it.
Crack!
It was Henderson's helmet-crushing headbutt.
Walter's facial bones shattered, his nose crumpled, and his teeth all broke loose, spilling onto the ground in a bloody froth of saliva.
"Ughhh..."
"Still alive? Just die already."
Walter could only groan in agony, too overwhelmed by the pain to even scream. But that wasn't enough for Henderson, who reared his head back for the finishing blow.
"Henderson!"
"Hey, man! No matter how much of a bastard he is, you can't just kill him on your own!"
"Let go! Of this! We can't let scum like him breathe another minute! Raaah!"
Bix and Garet desperately held him back, while Henderson glared at Walter and roared like a beast.
The other subordinates, wary of Henderson's mood, cautiously dragged Walter over and dumped him in front of Gellpin.
"What should we do with him?"
Gellpin asked Johann for his opinion on Walter's fate. Johann watched the fallen traitor for a moment before replying.
"He was your comrade. We'll go with whatever you all decide."
"The Resistance's new leader is you, Sir Alpha. Your word is our will."
"Heh, now that's an answer I like. Let's see... then..."
Everyone assumed Johann would execute Walter on the spot. The mood demanded it. But instead, he suddenly hoisted Walter up and slung him over his shoulder.
"Come on, you piece of shit. Time to make some medicine."
'Medicine?'
"Medicine? What bullshit is that? We should be killing him right now—we don't have time to waste!"
"Who knows. He's got something up his sleeve. Let's just watch for now."
Though puzzled by Johann's actions, they all agreed to observe quietly.
Back at the hideout, Johann dropped a bombshell.
"Tonight, we hit Viscount Domos."
"What?!"
No one could hide their shock at Johann's declaration. Gellpin, now the vice-captain, steadied his pounding heart and asked,
"Wasn't the plan to raid Viscount Domos tonight just a ploy to flush out any hidden spies among us?"
"Nope."
"..."
Gellpin racked his brain, wondering if he'd somehow forgotten hearing about this part of the plan, given how casually Johann replied.
But Johann had his reasons for striking tonight.
"Viscount Domos may be an idiot, but he's not that incompetent. By tomorrow, he'll know we caught the spy. Cut off from Resistance intel, he'll double down on defenses—make them way tighter than now. At my current level, taking him out would be a real hassle."
If Johann's Mana Circuit was like an eight-lane highway without a single blockage,
the mana flowing through it right now was like a toddler just learning to walk—not a sports car.
'Mana's accumulating faster than before my regression, but it'll take a while to reach that level. Going after Viscount Domos alone in my current state is way too risky.'
"Any more delays, and he'll learn about me. If word reaches House Crimford, the earl himself might step in."
"Th-the earl himself?!"
"Yeah. You all know that'd spell the end for this group."
In the end, Gellpin and the other executives had no choice but to accept that tonight was both their greatest crisis and their best shot.
"What do you need us to do?"
"You all will..."
As Johann outlined the raid on Viscount Domos's territory, the executives' expressions shifted dramatically by the minute—a sight to behold.
"A-Are you really going through with this?"
"If it goes wrong, it'll be the end not just for us, but everyone we're protecting!"
"You wanna sit around sucking your thumbs and die? This is our only shot—otherwise, we're all dead. Anyone who wants to bitch about it can stay here and croak when it fails."
Gellpin asked with a worried look at Johann's resolute decision.
"Will the others follow? They've never even seen a battle."
"War isn't just swords and spears. Eating and fighting is war. Every struggle to survive is war. If they don't like it, they can die. I won't stop 'em. Those who want to live will move. Everyone here came because they want to survive, right?"
"Then maybe you could convince them, Sir Alpha..."
"It'd be more efficient if our vice-captain—someone with way more respect and trust—handled it. I'm counting on you."
In the end, Johann dumped the trickiest problem on Gellpin.
Knock knock knock!
"My lord! Emergency!"
"Haa... What now?!"
Just as he'd drifted into deep sleep, Viscount Domos was rudely awakened. He flung open the door in a foul mood.
"Th-this...!"
After reading the secret letter from the steward, his drowsiness vanished, and his eyes bulged.
[Urgent: Confirmed mysterious external allies with the Resistance. Tonight, approximately 4,000 troops will assault all four gates—east, west, south, and north.]
The letter was none other than a fake penned by Walter, at Johann's offer: cooperate, and he'd be quietly smuggled out.
Johann kept his word. He just didn't lie to the executives asking about Walter's whereabouts.
At the same time.
The scouts, under the steward's orders, were cautiously patrolling the forests best suited for hiding troops near the four gates.
But then...
While spread out searching the woods, one scout silently collapsed and was dragged behind a tree.
Moments later, that same scout reemerged as if nothing had happened.
Something about him felt slightly off.
But in the dark of night, with everyone focused on enemy ambushes, no one noticed the subtle shift in their comrade's demeanor.
That's when it happened.
Cuckoo. Cuckoo.
The scout captain let out two cuckoo calls. His scattered men swiftly and silently gathered around him.
As they assembled, the captain pointed deeper into the forest.
Dust clouds billowed there, obscuring any clear view. One subordinate signaled his opinion.
-Looks like at least a thousand troops moving. Shall we get closer?
-No. If they spot us scouting, they might attack before we're ready. Head back now. Report to the lord.
The captain signaled back, then slipped out of the forest with his men.
Once the scouts were gone, the people in the woods who'd been kicking up the dust sighed in relief.
"Whew... Thought we were dead."
"Tell me about it. If they'd charged, we'd all be goners. Right, folks?"
A middle-aged man wiped cold sweat and exhaled as others nodded in agreement.
Truth was, these weren't soldiers—they were ordinary civilians from the Resistance hideout.
They'd swept the ground with brooms to fake a thousand-strong army. Only a hundred actual guards protected them.
"Still, I feel kinda proud. Always felt bad just being protected—now we've got a real job. And they said this broom-sweeping is super important!"
"Less yapping, more sweeping! Don't you all wanna go home?"
At the old man's shout, they sweated buckets but kept at it.
Watching, Bix felt a mix of awe and dread toward Johann, the plan's architect.
'No way to make dust clouds this big on foot without horses. Makes sense to mobilize nearly every refugee, man, woman, child... but...'
If the ruse failed, most here would've died or been gravely wounded.
Bix hated calling this gamble a "plan."
Yet it was working in their favor. He even caught himself hoping for dawn's new life.
'Since we're this far in, make it succeed. I'll be your slave—or worse—if you do.'
Meanwhile, the frantic eastern gate scouts reported to the guards upon arrival.
"Urgent! Ambush in the forest! At least a thousand strong—tell the lord to send reinforcements to the east gate now! Critical!"
"G-Got it! Send the messenger and light the beacon!"
The guard captain paled, dispatched a rider inward, and lit the signal fire to alert troops of war.
Finally catching his breath, he tilted his head at the scouts.
"Hang on, doesn't the headcount seem off from when you left? Like one's missing..."
"No way... Huh?"
The scout captain, caught up in the chaos, only then realized a man was gone.
'Weird? We had ten coming here...'
"Is the missing one Bass? Where's Bass? I told him to report even for a piss."
"We'll search right away!"
But Bass was nowhere. And with 4,000 enemies closing in, they couldn't dwell on it.
Countermeasures were urgent.
Thus, Bass's disappearance was shelved—for now. No one could predict the consequences.