Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Downing the Wyvern
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“How many in total so far?”
“Who knows. But it’s gotta be over two hundred.”
“Damn. How much is all that worth?”
“Jackpot. Total jackpot.”
The troops, mostly former and active mercenaries until recently, buzzed with excitement they couldn’t hide.
Even if they were low-tier, taking down over two hundred monsters in just two days was an incredible feat.
On top of that, with only three minor injuries among the forty-odd soldiers, it couldn’t get any better.
‘Live or die, we pledge our full loyalty to Lord Eugene.’
‘He’s a true knight who cherishes and looks after his men.’
They didn’t say it out loud, but their eyes exchanged such vows as they steeled their resolve.
No mercenary could dislike a knight who possessed martial prowess, bravery, and strategy in equal measure.
And that knight didn’t treat his troops like expendable tools? He fought at the forefront in battle and retreated last?
That went beyond a mere mercenary captain—he was a heroic liege.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
“I’ll divide up plenty of silver coins among you once we sell the mana stones and byproducts. So keep fighting hard. Got it?”
“Yes, my lord!”
With such generosity, what more was there to say?
The troops, every last one thrilled, shouldered the byproducts from the kobolds they’d just killed and marched on.
The log stockade camp they’d built yesterday afternoon felt eerie. It was packed full of monster heads.
The varieties were diverse too.
Harpies, goblins, kobolds, and even the stone heads of mid-tier gargoyles.
“Come on, let’s hurry.”
Knowing they had to cut off the monsters’ heads and hang them up again this time, the mercenaries started the work without being told.
Thirty minutes later, all the severed heads—excluding useful byproducts—were impaled on wooden stakes and hung outside the camp.
The sight of hundreds of monster heads dangling like decorations was utterly grotesque and chilling.
“Two-hour rest. Check on the wounded again, and rotate personal maintenance.”
“Yes, Sir Galpredic.”
As Partek, Veron, and Ludrian—the new squad leaders of ten—moved off, Galpredic turned to Eugene.
“At this rate, we might have to withdraw tomorrow? The byproducts are piling up so much it could be hard to transport.”
“Probably. Still, it seems more cautious than expected. Should we go in ourselves?”
“Might be scared of us. If it doesn’t show again, let’s push deeper. Risky, but... Huh?”
Galpredic frowned mid-sentence, so Eugene turned to look where he was staring.
Up on the slope they’d come down yesterday, a group of soldiers was visible.
Eugene tilted his head.
“Reinforcements?”
“No way. Baron Beogalan didn’t strike me as that generous a lord.”
About thirty in number. Still distant, but they’d reach here in ten minutes or so.
“Everyone, battle stations!”
At Galpredic’s shout, the troops dropped what they were doing, hurriedly donned their armor again, and assembled.
“What... what are those?”
Partek narrowed his eyes at the unwelcome guests descending the slope.
“How should I know? But they don’t look friendly.”
Tension filled the eyes of the three squad leaders at Galpredic’s reply.
Like the Philia Ruins, every opened monster domain posted guards or overseers at the entrance.
Once a subjugation force entered, access was strictly forbidden, and if there was any message, someone would wait at the entrance first—that was the custom.
It was extremely rare for armed troops nearly matching the subjugation force in number to approach out of nowhere like this.
“Everyone inside the camp!”
“Yes!”
As seasoned veterans, the squad leaders swiftly relayed orders, and within minutes, all troops were inside, forming a defensive line.
Clank!
Troops manning crossbows and spears through the log gaps glared at the approaching intruders.
* * *
“Sir Oleg. They’ve spotted us. What now?”
“As I said at first. Full charge.”
“Right now? Straight at them?”
“Yeah.”
The mercenaries hired by Sir Oleg of the Baron Beogalan house went pale.
They’d at least expected some plan before fighting, but a blind charge? Was this knight sane?
Moreover, they’d heard the enemy was failed subjugators—routed remnants far fewer in number—yet they looked like a well-organized combat unit.
“Anyone who doesn’t advance gets run through.”
“Ah, y-yes, sir.”
Oleg was a notorious knight in the area, and a client’s orders were absolute, so the mercenaries had no choice but to obey.
‘Well, with Sir Oleg here.’
‘He’s not the brightest, but his skills are the real deal.’
“Chaaarge!”
“Waaaaah!”
As Oleg drew his longsword and spurred his horse, the mercenaries followed in a rush.
A superb knight in full plate mail and barding at the vanguard was more than enough to embolden them.
But then.
Kyaaaaah!
A shrill roar tore through the air like claws.
The mercenaries charging down the slope whipped their heads toward the sound.
“...!”
From beyond the Philia Ruins, a dark brown flying shape hurtled toward them at speed.
No one had seen one in person before, but everyone knew what it was.
“W-Wyvern!”
“Eek!”
Even from afar, the monster dwarfed an eagle by tenfold, its majesty enough to chill spines.
Kyat! Kyarararack!
“Harpies too!”
At the call of the ruins’ ruling lord, harpies hidden all around burst out screeching.
Over a hundred at a glance—the mercenaries gaped in horror and turned to one man.
“Ooh, Sir Oleg!? What do we do?”
“Kill all the monsters.”
“B-But we came for the subjugation remnants...”
“I’ll pay more. Run, and I’ll smash your skulls.”
The mercenaries broke into cold sweats under Oleg’s mad glint. They’d been about to flee, but that gaze was no mere warning.
The area’s most brutish knight, Oleg, would surely hunt them down and crush their heads.
‘What do we do?’
‘What choice? Pretend to follow, then bolt at the first chance.’
Longtime comrades, they exchanged glances and resumed descending the slope.
Moments later, Oleg and the mercenaries reached near the ruin’s gate foundations.
Kaaaaack!
The wyvern circled overhead with eerie cries, prompting the mercenaries to hastily form ranks with shields and crossbows.
Twang!
Oleg nocked an arrow and fired his longbow without hesitation.
But the wyvern, flying high and fast, dodged the arrows mockingly.
“Th-The harpies are over the ruins!”
His hired mercenaries screamed then.
Monsters that rarely left the domain were vaulting the half-crumbled walls.
“Shit!”
Cursing, the mercenaries fought the harpies.
As battle-hardened troops, their tight formation held well against the harpies.
Oleg stopped shooting, drew his longsword, and started cleaving charging harpies.
Blood, flesh, screams, and shouts filled the bloody melee.
And from the distant stockade, Eugene and his troops watched casually.
“Whoa. Things are going sideways.”
“Tell me about it.”
Eugene nodded as Galpredic looked dumbfounded.
Lucky or not, things were unfolding strangely, just as he’d said.
“Lord Eugene, what about us?”
“Hmm.”
They should join the fight, but the plate-mailed knight with the Beogalan crest on his surcoat and his men were holding their own.
Plus, the wyvern still circling high was concerning.
‘Seems like it’s waiting for us to step outside the stockade.’
Combining past subjugation experience with Mark’s wyvern lore, Eugene decided to stay put.
“Can we hit the harpies from here?”
“Y-Yes. Enough to harass them.”
“Then lend a hand.”
“Yes!”
At Eugene’s order, crossbowmen aimed and loosed at the harpies.
With so many harpies swarming the clustered, shielded mercenaries, every shot hit.
“Should I shoot too?”
“No, we’re on wyvern duty.”
As Galpredic raised his longbow, Eugene shook his head and pointed skyward.
“Right. Heh.”
Chuckling softly, Galpredic dismounted, extended his left leg bent inward in his signature stance.
Pwing!
The arrow whistled skyward sharply.
The wyvern, startled by the faster, fiercer shot than Oleg’s, banked sharply.
Krawaaaaar!
“Tch. Close.”
Galpredic clicked his tongue at the enraged roar, but the watching troops sweated down their backs.
If the pissed-off wyvern attacked here...
“Galpredic, can you shoot to steer that thing in a specific direction?”
“Hmm. Might work.”
“Try it. Herd it over the gate foundations.”
“Got it. Hooo.”
Galpredic deep-breathed, nocked another arrow from the ground, and aimed.
‘No way one arrow drops a wyvern!’
‘Why rile it up? This guy’s nuts.’
Desperate to stop him, the troops could only watch Galpredic and Eugene with dry mouths.
Pwing! Pwing! Pwing!
Three arrows flew at two-to-three-second intervals.
The wyvern contemptuously flapped hard and fast, dodging leisurely. Galpredic’s shots merely grazed its tail.
Pwing!
One more arrow.
Keen-eyed as it was, the wyvern anticipated the shot’s path ahead and veered toward the gate foundations to evade.
That instant.
Shuuuuw!
A heavy whoosh unlike the arrows made the mercenaries’ heads snap around.
A spear from Eugene’s atlatl rocketed straight—not arcing—through the air.
‘Gonna miss...’
It didn’t.
The spear pierced clean through the wyvern’s wing as it banked over the gate foundations.
“...!?”
Everyone watching gaped.
Kreeeeetch!
Screeching horribly, the wyvern spun loops in the sky before flapping again.
Meanwhile, Eugene reloaded his atlatl and hurled another with full power.
Kwararak!
Lightning-fast amid splitting air, the spear struck the wyvern’s torso.
Krowaaaaa!
Even the sky king called wyvern couldn’t shrug off a spear—let alone from a vampire several times stronger than a human.
Kuek! Kre!
Thrashing wildly midair with savage cries, the wyvern finally plummeted to the ground.
With the spear buried deep in its chest, flight was impossible.
“Woooah!”
Hearing Galpredic’s awe, Eugene glanced back.
“What’re you lot standing around for? Let’s go.”
“...Ah! Yes! Lord Eugene!”
The troops, jaws still dropped, snapped to and replied haphazardly.
Two spears to down a wyvern. Unbelievable even seeing it.
‘Insane! Totally insane!’
‘Lord Eugene’s blessed by the gods!’
‘Attacking a knight like that... I’m the mad one.’
‘Lord Eugene is a war god!’
‘N-No human. How could a human...’
Awe, regret, faith, superstition.
Reasons varied, but the troops’ shared feeling toward Eugene was thrill and reverence.
(To be continued)