Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: Assault on the Main Force
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Chapter 207
“…….”
Madrica and the knights scanned their surroundings with eyes still burning from the thrill of battle.
The battlefield was a scene of devastation, with countless spear shafts and banners snapped and broken, stabbed into the ground amid the scattering rain and mist carried by the wind.
The blood spilled by hundreds had formed crimson pools everywhere, and the screams and groans of the severely wounded who still clung to life echoed intermittently through the storm.
Not a single enemy had escaped. Three hundred foes had been utterly annihilated.
In contrast, not one of their own had died, nor even been injured.
Madrica shuddered involuntarily.
‘They really wiped them out completely…….’
An indescribable elation heated his body further, the afterglow of battle refusing to fade.
A great victory?
No. Such an overwhelming triumph couldn’t be dismissed with such a simple term.
To have taken part in this battle, to have been one of its protagonists—this was glorious honor.
It was a lifetime achievement that would live on in epic war poems known to the entire world.
“We won!!!”
Unable to contain his emotions, Madrica raised his longsword, his face glistening with blood and rainwater, and shouted.
Uwaaaaaah!!!
The knights—participants in this historic battle that would endure in the annals of the Cayler Kingdom’s military history, and in time recorded as Maren’s heroes—roared their victory cry.
And the eyes of the victorious heroes naturally turned to Eugene, who had led them to this glory.
“This is just the beginning, my lords.”
Ooooh……!
Amid the burning passion, the knights’ eyes blazed.
“Gather up the survivors and bring them here.”
At Eugene’s command, the barely breathing wounded were dragged forward.
Eugene sustained their lives with low-grade mana crystals, then fixed them with a cold gaze.
“I am Duke Yan Eugene Bartla. Answer my questions sincerely, and I shall spare you. I stake my honor on it.”
“Ugh…….”
The prisoners nodded frantically.
Uneducated as they were, they knew the weight of a duke’s honor.
But more than that, this was the word of a demonic knight who had shattered their captain’s head—helmet and all—in a single blow and cut down countless comrades with spear and blade.
For men who bowed to the strong and bullied the weak, there was no room for hesitation.
“Your affiliation.”
“The, the Ash Heap Knights, my lord.”
“Knights? You lot?”
The implication was clear: with skills like theirs, they hardly deserved the name. But the prisoners had no time to take offense.
The man who had crushed the entire Ash Heap Knights—three hundred strong—with just fifty of his own had said it. What argument could they possibly have?
“We were originally the Ash Heap Mercenaries. Our captain contracted with the king and became the royal knights.”
“Hmm. I see.”
As Eugene tilted his head, Madrica quickly stepped in.
“My lord, if it’s the Ash Heap Mercenaries, I believe they’re the scum infamous in the Drentra region. We hadn’t heard from them in a while—looks like they joined the king’s service.”
“I see. Then who’s the highest-ranking one here?”
At Eugene’s question, the prisoners’ gazes converged on one man, who raised his hand.
“I, I was one of the centurions.”
“Perfect. You must know plenty.”
“Y-Yes! I’ll tell you everything!”
The captive centurion spilled everything he knew.
From affairs of the king and the cardinal, to conditions around the capital and movements of the royalist nobles—down to the most trivial details, he confessed it all.
After listening to the ten-minute recital, Eugene nodded.
“Good. You’ve been cooperative, so I’ll spare you.”
“Th-Thank you, my lord!”
Eugene fed the seven prisoners one more low-grade mana crystal each.
“What now, my lord?”
“Shouldn’t we return to Maren first, report the victory, and regroup?”
“No. We strike the main force now.”
“……!”
“Going back would just waste time. And the king’s infantry commander is already dead. Doesn’t that mean there’s no one left to lead their main army?”
“Ooooh! Indeed!”
The knights exclaimed in admiration, their fervor reigniting.
They had already claimed a flawless victory. Crushing the main force as well would etch their names into history forever.
For knights who lived for honor and achievement, it was a decision requiring no thought.
“Well said! With their cavalry annihilated, rabble like that can’t stand against us!”
“Count Evergrow leads them, they say? Let’s punish Maren’s traitor today!”
“Count? That rat’s a disgrace who abandoned honor and loyalty!”
The knights’ fury was intense.
Before departing Maren, everyone had worried about Evergrow’s territory.
With no word until the royalists’ army was at Maren’s doorstep, they’d assumed defeat and submission.
But not only had they not fought—the count had voluntarily surrendered to the royalists and collaborated.
“But the rain will make it hard for the warhorses to maneuver.”
“Hmm. True enough.”
At one knight’s words, several nodded in concern.
Infantry could fight in the rain, but cavalry lost all advantages in such conditions. The Ash Heap Knights had essentially been wiped out by the mud alone.
“Rain won’t be an issue.”
“Pardon?”
“Have you forgotten? I have a spirit.”
“……!”
“Kihihihihihi…….”
A frivolous laugh echoed before them, and a blue glow flickered into existence.
Ooooh……!
The knights gasped as the spirit who had unleashed a watery hell on the enemy—chanting some incomprehensible spell—revealed itself.
“Knights! I am King God Neo Revolutio—Kiek!”
Eugene snatched the spirit mid-introduction, pinching its wings between his fingers and hoisting it up.
“This is the water spirit bound to my contract. Borrow his power, and you needn’t worry, my lords.”
“Understood!”
It was a bit peculiar, but having witnessed the water spirit’s wonders firsthand, the knights responded vigorously.
* * *
‘Damn it. Because of that upjumped idiot…….’
Zebin, leading the main force in Zenas’s stead, ground his teeth inwardly.
‘What do I do? We’ve got numbers, but like this…….’
Five hundred pure combatants—excluding porters and the Zhu Bo Merchant Group—was no small force.
It even included his own knights. On paper, they could give Maren a real fight.
The problem was that nearly half were serf soldiers, with the rest being mercenaries scraped together from everywhere.
Quality aside, the chain of command was a mess. He doubted they’d fight properly if battle broke out.
‘Like it or not, we needed that lowly scum. This is maddening.’
The infantry with the Ash Heap Knights had been held together by decent silver and Zenas’s infamy.
But now, their employer—who paid and ruled through fear—was gone.
He’d rejoin soon enough, but if something unexpected happened…
“Please, just get tired and come back…….”
As Zebin muttered hopefully under his breath, the mercenary leaders sauntered over.
“Count, the men are exhausted. Mind if we rest a bit? Would be best.”
“What?”
Zebin’s brow furrowed, and his knights barked.
“You scum! Watch your tone with the count!”
“Oh, sorry. We’re just rough types.”
Contrary to their words, the leaders grinned insolently.
Normally, they wouldn’t dare speak to Zebin or the knights, but things were different now.
No Zenas, and if the mercenaries bolted, the army would collapse.
Plus, they were locals from near the capital. Once this was over, no need to see Zebin again.
“Ehehe! Can’t be helped. March on like this, and they’ll drop before Maren.”
“You bastards…….”
The knights gnashed their teeth.
But the leaders weren’t entirely wrong, so they turned to Zebin.
“Count, best to pitch tents and rest briefly.”
“With this weather, the infantry commander will return soon. Chasing elves in this is impossible.”
“Even idiots know that much—he’ll be back.”
Convinced, Zebin clicked his tongue and nodded.
“Tch! Fine, then…….”
Just then, amid the easing rain, a group of cavalry appeared.
“Oh! The Ash Heap Knights are back!”
“Hmm. They’ve got discipline…… Huh?”
Zebin, inwardly pleased, suddenly narrowed his eyes.
The riders cresting the low hill were far too few.
“Did they fight and get hit?”
They looked too pristine for that. And somehow, not quite like the Ash Heap Knights.
“Gasp!?”
Zebin’s eyes widened.
The knight leading at the fore.
The black steed, the unforgettable black armor.
“Y-Yan Eugene……?”
As Zebin’s trembling voice escaped, the rain-sodden, sticky air quivered faintly.
Paaaaah……!
A dark crimson wave emanated from the cavalry, creeping toward them.
“Eek!?”
“W-What’s that!?”
“Magic! A curse!”
The troops panicked at the massive, writhing dark red aura—like a living thing—devouring the sky.
And as it engulfed the five hundred of the main force completely.
“Haaak!”
“Guh!”
Unbearable terror struck them, freezing the entire army in paralyzing fear.
A truly chilling scene.
But the astonishment didn’t end there.
A brilliant blue orb shot from the cavalry, accompanied by a bewitching laugh, and then…
Hwaaa……
Countless transparent droplets rose from the rain-slicked mud.
“Hup! Hup! Today I’m Master’s Number One Subordinate! But tomorrow, Spirit King! Hup! Huuup… this is too hard, sniff! Kiiieee!”
“……!?”
Zebin’s stunned eyes saw the blue glow streak past, and rice-grain-sized droplets rise everywhere.
It took no time to realize they were water droplets.
Thousands upon thousands shot skyward, merging into a mass, then cascaded like a waterfall beyond the main force’s ranks.
At that exact moment, as if on cue, the hilltop cavalry charged.
Dudududududu……!
“Grrgh! W-What are you… doing? G-Get up… f-fight…….”
Zebin’s gritted words were too faint. He too was overwhelmed by the Origin’s presence, unable to move.
A few brave knights crossed themselves and strained to draw swords, but that was all.
Eugene’s cavalry surged like a gale across the inexplicably dried ground, plunging into the rigid infantry.
Kwakwakwakwa!
Heavy cavalry slamming into immobile footmen sent dozens flying, screams erupting everywhere.
At the same moment, the mysterious binding force vanished—but it was too late.
The knights, raging like wild beasts, threw the serf soldiers into panic; they fled every which way.
The mercenaries fared little better.
Had they braced beforehand, maybe. But with formations shattered by the charge, poorly armed mercenaries were helpless.
Unlike the fleeing serfs, many mercenaries swung weapons in resistance, but…
Shuwaaaak!
Before the black knight—radiating singular presence among the intruders—they were mere moving straw dummies.
Dark red spear in one hand, silver sword in the other, he galloped through, cleaving mercenaries.
Five or six knights wielding oddly shimmering blue blades followed, their swift, flashy swordplay shredding more foes.
“Y-Yan Eugeeeene!”
As Zebin’s scream-like cry burst out, Eugene’s red eyes locked precisely on him.
(To be continued)