Chapter 128
Chapter 128
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: Pursuit Through the Forest
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“Heh heh! Looks like the Half-Orc Baron is good and pissed.”
“Yeah, who told them to crawl into the forest and blunder around separately like idiots? An army commanded by a Sword Master isn’t all that impressive.”
In just minutes, over ten Beowulf warriors who had swept through the rear mercenaries like a storm and escaped were cackling from the trees, hundreds of meters away from Baron Riward’s forces.
“Speaking of which, thanks to the armor the Dark Lord gifted us, we didn’t get a single scratch. All of you too, right?”
“This stuff’s the real deal. A bit cumbersome when moving, but it bounces off spears, swords, axes—you name it.”
“You let those weaklings land a hit on you? You bastard, cut off your tail.”
“Uh, well, that’s...”
“But aren’t you guys hungry for meat?”
“Yeah. We got all riled up, and now I’m suddenly starving... Gah!”
Ptui! Ptui! Ptui! Ptui!
“Grraa?”
Sure enough, as their chatter veered off into nonsense again, a few Beowulf warriors took off their helmets and rubbed their eyes. Then they widened them in surprise and glanced around.
“They say if you mess around, water gets in your eyes. It’s actually true.”
“Can the Dark Lord use magic too?”
“Well, those little fangs originally have some talent for magic.”
Oblivious to the fact that it was the Water Spirit’s phlegm, the Beowulf warriors marveled anew at Eugene and nimbly descended from the trees.
“Huh? Looks like something’s happening up ahead.”
“Perfect timing. Heh heh!”
Catching the humans’ screams carried on the wind, the Beowulf warriors bared their long fangs in laughter.
This was the forest.
And the forest was a place perfectly suited for vampires and Beowulfs, whose senses far surpassed those of humans.
Unless hundreds gathered in one spot, humans marching in long lines of dozens could never withstand vampires and Beowulfs.
Especially when the most threatening knights, equipped with superior arms, were absent.
“Alright. Everyone, heighten all your senses to the max and follow. We attack again once the knights pull away.”
“Got it. Same as before?”
“Yeah. As fast and fierce as possible.”
Grrrrowl!
Letting out low chuckles, the Beowulf warriors crouched low and dashed silently through the forest.
* * *
‘They’re coming!’
Sensing the presence from beyond the forest—distinctly different from the Beowulf warriors—Eugene yanked his claws out of one mercenary’s torn chest and shouted.
“Scatter!”
Groooar!
The Beowulf warriors, who had torn through over fifty mercenaries in a single minute, bolted in all directions without hesitation.
Eugene, armed only with claws and Black Scale Mail without plate armor or weapons, also kicked off the ground with his limbs and raced through the forest like a beast.
“Over there!”
“Beast! No, a monster!”
A few who closed in quickly spotted Eugene and the Beowulf warriors and bellowed at the top of their lungs.
But with few mounted except the knights, they couldn’t catch Eugene, who had camouflage abilities, or the beast-swift Beowulf warriors.
Minutes later, Eugene had widened the distance to the mercenaries by over hundreds of meters, then climbed an appropriately tall tree like a flying squirrel.
With the scales perfectly blended to the tree’s color, the mercenaries wouldn’t spot him.
At that moment, Mirian flew laboriously toward the tree where Eugene perched, flapping her wings.
“Kieeh~ Kieeeh~ Ugh, I’m exhausted! Masteeer~”
“What about the warriors in the rear?”
“I spat a few times since they were talking shit again, and they snapped out of it.”
“Good job.”
“Kiehehe!”
Turning from the spirit whose mouth split wide in delight at the praise, Eugene immediately heightened all his senses.
‘They’re finally gathering in one place.’
Reading the movements of Baron Riward’s family forces, Eugene smacked his lips in regret.
The forest was extremely advantageous terrain for vampires and Beowulf warriors, but when hundreds converged in one spot like that, it wasn’t easy to attack with their numbers.
Still, the timed ambushes from front and rear had slaughtered well over a hundred—a resounding success. It was time to pull back.
‘But the forces seem smaller than expected? Hmm... Huh!?’
Reviewing the battle in his mind, Eugene’s eyes shot wide.
Every sensation and scent in this forest right now belonged to armed humans. Not a single unarmed one.
‘No main supply caravan? No supply unit either.’
It didn’t make sense for hundreds of troops on an expedition this far without a trailing supply unit.
That meant—whether main caravan or supply unit—Baron Riward’s forest main force had separated from it, and it was moving independently.
Whoosh!
“Kieeh? Masteeer! Take me toooo~”
Leaping from the tree, Eugene dashed toward the rendezvous point with the Beowulf warriors.
* * *
“Damn it all...”
Baron Riward’s curse spread with his breath into the cool night air.
Hundreds of torches lit the night as the troops’ march filled the forest with clamor.
Over three hours since the last ambush, without rest or food, Baron Riward’s army traversed Veilin Forest.
The attacks had stopped, but moving in a dense formation slowed them drastically.
Thanks to sharp-eyed mercenaries who knew the stars well, they wouldn’t get lost, but at this rate, they’d exit the forest only at sunrise tomorrow.
“Baron, the troops are exhausted. How about eating and resting briefly?”
“Hmm.”
Narrowing his brow at the knight’s advice, Baron Riward eventually nodded.
“Exactly thirty minutes. Tell them to scarf down some dried meat.”
“Yes, sir.”
Baron Riward’s orders quickly reached each unit, and the troops flopped down right there with heavy thuds.
But they couldn’t rest easy.
Shocked and terrified from the daytime assaults, eight or nine out of ten stared nervously into the dark forest beyond the firelight.
“Gasp!”
“E-enemy!?”
Even a small rustle had them scrambling up, ready to fight. Rest was no rest at all.
Nor could they set up camp properly. No suitable spot, and scattering risked another ambush.
“Master, have some water.”
“Hmm.”
Gulping from the water skin politely offered by his squire, Baron Riward soothed his churning gut.
“Gah! To think the Crolmarin bastards hired Beowulfs.”
Baron Riward gnashed his teeth.
Compiling eyewitness accounts of the attackers, they were definitely Perseos Beowulfs with ties to Crolmarin territory.
“Indeed. But where’d they get the money to hire them? At least ten, so minimum 100,000 selings.”
“And didn’t they say relations soured last year after Beowulfs caused a big incident? It’s odd.”
The knights chimed in.
“That’s not the point now. They’re watching us from somewhere even at this moment.”
“But if they show up again, they won’t escape this time.”
“Good thing we brought silver arrows and the weapons we took from the continental knights, just in case.”
The knights exuded confidence.
And that was precisely why the Beowulf warriors avoided clashing with Riward territory knights.
Armed with gear mass-captured from continental knights during the Prayer Book Wars, and born Brantians who knew well how to fight non-humans.
In small skirmishes, Beowulf warriors held the edge, but against hundreds gathered like now, they’d be surrounded and annihilated.
“Should’ve traveled with Duke Pitamoras?”
Sage Pitamoras of Roptimo Mountain was a druid skilled at animal control, piercing darkness to track mana stone bearers with magic.
His scariest trait: cursing any race, including humans, with potent spells.
Even if briefly, he could turn healthy folk into rats or toads.
“Duke Pitamoras would’ve made it easier. But someone had to escort the main supply caravan.”
“True. Only you, Baron, or the revered druid can control those unruly mercenaries.”
“Sigh. You’re right. Somehow exit the forest by morning, rendezvous with the caravan... What!?”
Baron Riward suddenly bulged his eyes and shot to his feet.
“...?”
“What’s wrong, Baron?”
As the knights looked baffled, Baron Riward ground his teeth and raised his voice.
“You damned fools!”
“B-Baron?”
“Rest’s over! Everyone, prepare to march now! We bust out of this shit forest as fast as possible! Forget formation—run!”
The baron bellowed, and knights along with mercenary leaders rushed over in shock.
“Baron! We haven’t rested ten minutes!”
“What about the Beowulfs? Traversing forest at night without formation...”
“You goblin-fucked idiots!!!”
“Eek!”
Unleashing his presence unchecked, Baron Riward mounted up and roared.
“Don’t you get why those bastards stopped attacking? They’ve already left the forest! They realized the caravan and supplies are separated from us!”
“Gasp!?”
“N-no time for this!”
Chaos erupted in an instant, sparking an impromptu midnight race through the forest.
* * *
“Which bastard’s cursing me? Why’s my ear so itchy?”
A Beowulf warrior trailing Silyon scratched his ear with sharp claws.
“Hunger from no meat?”
“Maybe?”
“Aaah! Craving meat.”
Still veering into food talk, the warriors left the dimly moonlit forest at a brisk pace.
Horse-like speed with far better endurance—Baron Riward’s army still in Veilin Forest had zero chance of catching them.
“Just a bit more. Few more hours.”
“Got it!”
Looking back, Eugene saw the Beowulf warriors respond vigorously.
As Baron Riward suspected, Eugene had exited the forest with the warriors right after the last ambush, heading for Patos.
Precisely, en route to the road to find the other Beowulf warriors he’d sent on a wide detour.
‘I told them not to attack rashly, just scout the route, but something feels off.’
Escorting supplies was basic tactics.
Baron Riward, a fairly renowned Brantian knight, wouldn’t send supplies unguarded.
But fewer troops than the main force, obviously. Eugene worried the detached Beowulfs hadn’t overreached for glory.
“Huh? Dark Lord, there!”
At one warrior’s word, Eugene’s eyes pierced the dark to a small woods hundreds of meters away.
The woods sat just dozens of meters from the road—ideal for ambush.
Even Eugene would’ve hidden there to watch the road.
“Blood scent!”
“Our kin’s smell!?”
Nearing, the thick blood stench excited the warriors past Silyon toward it.
Moments later, arriving between woods and road, Eugene narrowed his eyes.
No bodies—cleaned up—but blood, flesh flecks, beast fur littered the grass.
Clear signs of fierce combat for any observer.
“No one in the woods!”
“Damn it all!”
They could’ve sniffed it out, but the warriors who searched anyway couldn’t hide excitement and anxiety.
“Did our kin fall?”
“Fucking cowards! Die after cutting your claws at least.”
“Useless bastards.”
Ignoring the cursing warriors, Eugene dismounted—no, on foot?—and examined the ground closely when Mirian flew up and spoke rapidly.
“Master, master! Mana smell here!”
“Mana smell?”
“Yeah! The kind from magic! Different from ugly troll’s, but super similar stench everywhere!”
Only then did it all click for Eugene.
Why strong Beowulf warriors, who could devour dozens of mercenaries solo, had vanished.
Brantian mages wielding unique, mystical magic unlike the continent’s.
“Baron Riward must’ve called in a druid.”
No wonder things went too smoothly.
(To be continued next time)