Chapter 155
Chapter 155
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 155
Chapter Title: Confrontation with the Elan'd Knights
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“Sir Prabow. Look over there.”
“Hmm.”
Sir Prabow halted his horse and raised his visor.
His face darkened sharply at the sight of the army gathered in the distance like a storm cloud. It was undoubtedly the main force of the Beowulf warriors he had spotted earlier.
“I thought it was just two or three hundred at most…”
“Those idiot mercenaries! That’s no goblin rabble—how can they call that a few hundred?”
Even the voices of his fellow Elan’d knights were thick with concern as they eyed the force that numbered well over a thousand.
They were strong. Every one of them possessed the skill to cut down dozens of bandits with ease.
And when ten of them banded together like this, not even well-trained soldiers or seasoned mercenary companies could stand against them.
But against an army of that scale, there was nothing they could do.
Even so, they couldn’t just turn tail after strutting out with such bold declarations.
“Sir Prabow, shouldn’t we first find out which house they belong to? Nobles on the mainland with that many troops are exceedingly rare.”
“Hmm. We’ll have to approach and speak with them first.”
The leader of an army that size was surely a noble.
Even if not, he wouldn’t dare mistreat Elan’d knights in front of his men, if only to maintain face.
‘One of the factions vying for the throne? If so, it wouldn’t hurt to scout their leader and gauge their troops’ quality while we’re at it.’
With that thought, Prabow tied his handkerchief to the tip of his lance and spurred his horse forward.
As the distance closed, the army’s size and equipment came into sharper focus.
“Hmm.”
Prabow and the Elan’d knights’ expressions hardened further.
This army of unknown origin wasn’t just a mob of ragged conscripts.
Their discipline looked ironclad, and their armaments were exceptionally fine.
‘Heavy infantry? And that many heavily armored knights?’
Hundreds of heavy infantry clad in full chain mail, armed with spears, swords, and shields—that alone was astonishing. But nearing fifty knights rode forward on barded warhorses, clad in plate mail.
Most shocking of all, dozens of Beowulf warriors were uniformed in identical armor.
And that could mean only one thing.
‘They’re not just mercenaries tagging along. Beowulf warriors formally enlisted under someone’s banner…’
It defied reason, given their towering pride and warrior ethos.
The closer they drew to this mysterious army, the heavier Prabow’s heart grew.
“Whoa, whoa.”
When they were less than fifty meters from the vanguard, Prabow and the Elan’d knights reined in their horses.
From the army’s side, four mounted knights rode out to meet them.
“Larrma Tino Bror Valin Elan’d Emashia?”
One knight spoke in the Elan’d tongue, and Prabow’s eyes widened in response.
“Ja. Lar il Lano Valin?”
“Ja. Durak es Lanslo.”
Prabow nodded as he saw Lanslo raise his visor and grin.
“So, a knight of House Durak. Commendable that you haven’t forgotten the blood that flows in your veins.”
“Haha. Being born to House Durak means learning the Elan’d tongue is unavoidable.”
“Even that is a proud tradition proving House Durak’s descent from Elan’d. In any case, greetings, Sir Lanslo Durak. I am Prabow of Elan’d.”
“Ah, so you’re Sir Prabow.”
Prabow smiled faintly as Lanslo feigned familiarity.
“You know me?”
“Who doesn’t know Elan’d’s Sword Master? Glad to meet you, though the circumstances make it a bit awkward for celebrations.”
“…”
Prabow’s expression stiffened for a moment.
To recognize him yet respond this way meant the man was either supremely confident or trusted in that army—or both.
Whatever the reason, such conduct was unfamiliar and grating to Prabow, Elan’d’s Sword Master.
And for the other Elan’d knights, less tempered than Prabow, it was downright infuriating.
“Sir! Have you sold your manners?”
“Aren’t you a knight of House Durak, heir to Elan’d blood? Even if we’re not allies, how dare you show such insolence?”
“Show some respect! Knight of Durak!”
Most in their forties or fifties—mere youths by Elan’d standards—the knights couldn’t contain their hot blood.
Moreover, aside from Prabow, none had set foot on Brantia mainland before, and until now, they’d only dealt with Baron Mondello and similar figures who fawned over and honored them.
In other words, someone treating them as ‘equals,’ like Lanslo, was a first.
“These elf bastards just insulted you, didn’t they? Right?”
“Not quite an insult, but nothing complimentary.”
Galpredic, who’d arrived with Lanslo, asked, and Lanslo shrugged. Randolf the vampire banneret spoke cautiously.
“They’re demanding respect while criticizing Sir Durak’s demeanor. The knight who spoke with Sir Durak is Elan’d’s Sword Master—a noble of high standing on their side. They’re displeased with your attitude.”
“These X-damned elves are throwing a fit. Lanslo, forget it—just ask that Sword Master blowhard if they’re backing Baron Mondello.”
Though spoken in the Kailer Kingdom tongue and incomprehensible, Prabow’s gaze turned to Galpredic at his distinctive aura and coarse speech.
A face somewhat paler than a human’s, and the peculiar ki he’d sensed earlier—Prabow realized Galpredic, Randolf, and Clay were vampires.
“So, knights of the Dark Clan. Are you this army’s commander, sir?”
“Sir Galpredic asks if you are the army’s supreme commander.”
Galpredic chuckled darkly at Randolf’s translation.
“What’s it to you if you know? Anyway, relay my words quickly.”
“Yes.”
Randolf nodded and addressed Prabow.
“This is Galpredic, a high noble of our clan and knight commander of our army. He asks if you are indeed allied with Baron Mondello.”
“…”
Despite the pointed question coming out of nowhere, Prabow didn’t flinch.
But the younger Elan’d knights, lacking his composure, showed clear agitation at Randolf’s words.
“Gotcha. Their faces say it all. These ragtag elves were Baron Mondello’s backers.”
Galpredic grinned wickedly. Though the words were unintelligible, Prabow read the realization in that smile.
Yet Prabow remained defiant.
“And what if we are? Yes, Baron Mondello has chosen to stand with Elan’d. So listen well: the moment you and that army invade Mondello lands, you declare war on Elan’d. Elan’d’s elite troops, blessed by the great spirits, will annihilate and slaughter your forces. Withdraw your army now and leave this land.”
As he spoke, Elan’d lightly tapped his longsword. A masterwork blade with a silver-plated scabbard. He feared no high noble of the Dark Clan.
Randolf translated Prabow’s words verbatim to Galpredic.
“Uhahahahaha!”
Galpredic burst into laughter, leaving Prabow and the Elan’d knights taken aback.
“I was worried they’d wriggle out of it, but they straight-up admitted it.”
“Indeed. They’ve barely left Elan’d, so they’re clueless about the world.”
Lanslo chimed in agreement. Though in the Kailer tongue, Prabow and the knights’ moods soured at the knights’ attitudes alone.
“How dare you! Are you unafraid of Elan’d’s wrath?”
“Apologize and begone! We’ll tolerate no further rudeness!”
Lanslo flashed the furious Elan’d knights a meaningful smile.
“Oh, right—they still don’t know who we are.”
“Hmph! House Durak’s fame is impressive, but I’ve never heard of any House Galpredic. I don’t care what kingdom you hail from, but if you show more insolence, once Elan’d unifies Brantia…”
“You’re under a grave misunderstanding.”
Lanslo cut Prabow off.
“Our army’s lord and supreme commander is right over there.”
Following Lanslo’s gesture, Prabow and the Elan’d knights’ gazes turned naturally.
Beneath a black dragon banner fluttering in the wind, a knight in full black plate armor watched them.
At that instant, Prabow’s eyes narrowed at the man’s overwhelming presence and intimidation. Lanslo continued.
“To be precise, that is His Highness, Duke Yann Eugene Bartolla.”
“Wh-what!?”
Prabow nearly dropped his reins in shock, and Lanslo gave him a knowing smile.
“Baron Mondello’s allied with Elan’d? Perfect timing—we were heading there to confirm just that.”
“Th-that’s…”
“Excuses won’t help. House Mondello has long been a vassal of House Bartolla. The duke granted their title, so he can revoke it too.”
“…!”
“Yes. His Highness Duke Eugene will hold Baron Mondello accountable for betraying his ducal house. And since Elan’d’s Sword Master himself confirmed their alliance, further talk is pointless.”
“Urk!”
Prabow bit his lip.
A blatant blunder.
He should have identified the foe first before proceeding, but their insolence and his complacency from holing up in Mondello’s castle had dulled him.
“But antagonizing Mondello lands means war with Elan’d…”
“Hm? Didn’t you bribe one of Bartolla’s longtime vassals first?”
“Absurd! baseless slander without proof…”
“We captured Sir Roberi, one of Baron Mondello’s knights. He confessed: someone stuffed him with silver to hire mercenaries and play bandit.”
“…!”
He’d suspected as much, but their retreat was already cut off.
“What will you do? Block Duke Bartolla’s rightful reprimand and wrath in Elan’d’s name? Know this: if House Bartolla and Elan’d become enemies over this, it’s on you, Sir Prabow.”
Lanslo’s voice remained clear, but his eyes had turned icy cold.
Galpredic, Randolf, and Clay eyed Prabow and the Elan’d knights, ready to fight at any moment.
Trapped between advance and retreat, Prabow ground his teeth inwardly.
Losing their Brantia foothold over this stung bitterly.
They feared neither Elan’d nor lacked just cause to punish Baron Mondello.
“I…”
He opened his mouth, resolved to withdraw for now.
But then.
“We are knights of Elan’d! Great Elan’d bows to no one!”
“Waaah!”
The Elan’d knights, rage boiling over, roared and drew their weapons.
‘You fools!’
Startled, Prabow tried to restrain them, but it was too late.
“Excellent! Gotta respect the elves’ guts! Hahaha!”
Galpredic laughed uproariously and leveled his lance, while Lanslo and the two vampires gripped their longswords.
“No…!”
Refusing to give up, Prabow turned to speak—just as his eyes flew wide.
“Grroooaaarrr!!! ”
The Beowulf warriors charged toward them like beasts.
But that wasn’t what startled Prabow.
“ZweeEEEEk!”
A streak of black hurtled toward them like a dark meteor, slicing the air with deadly whoosh.
“At this range!?”
Prabow’s eyes bulged as he recognized it as a black javelin.
(To be continued)