Chapter 166: Game of Thrones
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 166: Game of Thrones
One hour before Allen's arrival. Duke Signir had succeeded in his ambush, and Erik was attempting a counterattack with his army of the undying.
“Capture the Duke—!”
Despite being ambushed, Erik's soldiers showed no signs of panic. Even though they were surrounded, they advanced without a moment's hesitation.
The sight of the soldiers staggering forward, their eyes unfocused, was grotesque. So much so that it was the Duke's men, the ones who had set the trap, who were bewildered.
“These are the bastards who chased us without giving us time to eat or take a shit! Now we have a chance for revenge, are you going to let it go to waste?! Snap out of it and run them through—!”
Fortunately, the soldiers were veterans hardened by long years of war. Duke Signir's command snapped them back to their senses, and they immediately brandished their weapons.
“Die—!”
But when the enemy soldier, impaled on a spear, merely tilted his head in confusion instead of screaming, the men were once again stunned.
They could only stare blankly as the enemy soldier calmly pulled the spear from his body and poured the contents of a waterskin over the wound. Needless to say, their shock was immense.
The gushing blood stopped at once. New flesh was already knitting over the wound, which had been torn wider by the forceful removal of the spear. The enemy soldier raised his head.
A wide grin spread across his face.
“H-How— Gack.”
The enemy soldier's sword plunged into the Duke's man. His lung must have been pierced, for instead of a voice, only the sound of escaping air could be heard. The soldier's legs gave out, and he collapsed.
It was a mortal wound; he would have died even if left alone. He had no strength to fight back. Yet the enemy soldier grabbed him by the neck, forcing the sword deeper. Then he leaned in close to the man's ear and laughed.
“Heehee…”
It was a sound akin to the pure laughter of a child at play, which made it all the more chilling.
“You crazy—!”
Seeing their comrade fall, the surrounding soldiers frantically thrust their spears. Since the enemy was surrounded, several spearheads pierced his chest simultaneously.
Once again, the enemy soldier did not scream. Instead, he grabbed the spear shafts and pulled them deeper into his own body, closing the distance to the soldiers.
“Uh… Aaargh!”
And once again, he swung his sword. The man who should have died lived, and the men who should have lived died. This was the second time it had happened.
Scenes like this were unfolding all across the battlefield.
“They're insane! It's an army of devils!!!”
The soldiers' faces were etched with bewilderment. Some began to back away without even realizing it.
They had successfully ambushed and surrounded the enemy, a situation where victory should have been certain, yet it felt as if the tables had turned.
Duke Signir was just as stunned.
'Holy water and drugs! That bastard has joined forces with the Pope!'
Thanks to Allen's advice, the Duke knew the Pope could weaponize holy water.
Furthermore, as a duke from the northern continent with active trade relations with the East, he was also aware of the drugs Eastern armies favored to eliminate fear and pain.
The combination of drugs and holy water, each threatening on its own, was devastatingly powerful.
'Now I understand why he insisted we had to deal with the Pope first.'
Whenever Allen had stressed the danger of the Pope, he had thought it was excessive worry. It was the exact opposite.
“Your Grace!”
There was no more time to think.
Duke Signir immediately spurred his horse and charged an enemy soldier. The swing of his sword sliced through the man's thick cloth armor and clean through his neck.
Raising his sword, still dripping with the warm blood of the enemy, the Duke shouted.
“The enemy is not invincible! They are men, just like us, who die when their heads are severed or their vitals are pierced!”
He did not consider retreat.
In war, the greatest losses always occur during a retreat.
Moreover, they were in the middle of a desperate flight, having barely escaped with their men and no preparations. Their stamina, rations, and morale were all critically low.
Retreating now would mean accepting catastrophic losses, which was tantamount to defeat.
At the very least, they had to break the spearhead of Erik's army here and shatter his will to pursue.
'I should have just gone to the Holy Land with him.'
Duke Signir was filled with regret. What if he had followed Allen to the Holy Land? He might have lost the capital, but wouldn't the situation have been better than this?
Well, it was all hindsight now.
“There! It's the Duke—! Get him!”
The Duke's actions served as a pillar of strength for his men, but to the enemy, it was a clear exposure of his position.
Erik, determined to capture the Duke, threw his army—armed with drugs and holy water—at him without restraint.
Thanks to this, countless soldiers died despite the holy water, but in the end, Erik succeeded in confronting the Duke.
“Finally caught you.”
The Duke faced Erik, leaving behind him the army that knew neither pain nor death and his own knights who were desperately trying to hold them back.
“Hah… Holy water is one thing, but to use Eastern drugs as well. Are you ignorant of the consequences? Those men will suffer for the rest of their lives.”
Erik simply smiled at the Duke's accusation.
“What does that have to do with me? They're nothing but mercenaries living day to day. Shouldn't they be grateful that I'm making their otherwise meaningless lives useful in this way?”
“…After killing your own father, have you decided to throw all caution to the wind?”
“I don't know what you're talking about. Weren't you the one who killed my father?”
Erik brazenly pinned his own deed on the Duke and pointed his sword at him.
The Duke's face twisted in disgust.
“Do you think killing me here will end everything? The House of Signir, not to mention the people of the northern continent, will never accept you.”
“Is that so? I hear you have many grown children who covet your title. Rather than seeking revenge, they'll fight amongst themselves for the one and only ducal seat. Some of them might even side with us.”
“…”
The Duke did not deny it. It was human nature to put oneself first. Besides, all his children were incompetent and greedy...
Reading this truth in Duke Signir's silence, Erik's lips curled into a smirk.
“Furthermore, once the people of the north have had a taste of the Pope's tyranny, they will naturally desire a new king. When that time comes, they will hail me as their ruler.”
“What about the Baron? I heard you failed to kill him.”
“Once his connection to Dresden is severed, and you are dead, he will lose his justification for participating in this war. Besides, the situation in the western continent is unstable, so he'll have no choice but to return soon enough.”
In other words, if he could just capture the Duke, everything would go according to his plan. Yet, with his goal right in front of him, Erik was stalling.
“And the reason you're explaining all this in such detail is?”
“Surrender. And I will spare your life.”
The Duke narrowed his eyes, as if trying to peer into Erik's very soul. In fact, he had already guessed Erik's true objective.
“Thinking about what comes after you become king?”
Dresden was a foreigner. Even if he declared himself king, the people of the northern continent would never truly follow him, especially given their tendency to reject foreign powers.
That was why Erik needed a local collaborator to make an example of. As the established powerhouse of the region, Duke Signir was the perfect candidate for such a role.
But that wasn't all.
“If I were to marry your daughter, Isabel, it would be much easier for Dresden to establish a foothold in the northern continent.”
The age difference between them was more than double, but neither Erik nor the Duke considered it an issue. Such things were quite common in the unions of noble houses.
Erik continued.
“It wouldn't be a bad proposition for the House of Signir, either. You would become the king's father-in-law.”
The offer also implied an end to hostilities. In its own way, it was an olive branch.
“Hah. A threat made with a sword to my throat is 'not a bad proposition'? A funny joke. And... a man who betrays once will always betray again.”
“So you insist on drinking the poison?”
“Did you really think I would join hands with you after you stabbed me in the back? How arrogant. Then again, such arrogance is likely why you acted without realizing the danger you were in.”
Erik had killed his own father and brother. This meant that if Erik were to die here, the Dresden army would lose its entire leadership.
The smiles vanished from their faces as the two men glared at each other. Sparks seemed to fly where their gazes met. They shouted at the same time.
“Attack! Kill the Duke—!”
“Avenge us! Sons of Signir!”
Just as the battle, which had lulled during the commanders' conversation, was about to erupt once more...
“ERIK!!!”
A roar from behind their lines echoed through the canyon. It was a familiar voice.
Erik's face hardened, while the Duke's brightened. They both turned their heads toward the sound. There stood Allen.
Allen was charging toward them, his eyes fixed on Erik, relentlessly whipping his horse.
Though only thirty soldiers followed him, the sheer ferocity of Allen at the lead created the illusion of a million-strong army on the charge.
“Those who pride themselves on their cleverness often make the mistake of ignoring the present while thinking too far into the future. You were too arrogant.”
To gain an advantage in a distant future battle with the Pope, you ignored Allen and targeted Cynthia.
You claimed that killing the Duke would eliminate the great threat that is Allen, yet you hesitated, thinking about what would happen after you became king.
As a result, you gave Allen the opportunity for revenge.
Of course, Erik had his excuses. Even the boldest of men are bound to have a change of heart after a near-death experience.
Their actions might become more cautious, or in severe cases, they might become timid—the complete opposite of their former selves.
But Allen defied such common sense. The moment he recovered, he came charging for revenge. As a result, a crisis was turned into an opportunity.
An opportunity for the Duke.
A crisis for Erik.
“It's too soon to celebrate. His force is a mere thirty men. My army of the undying numbers five hundred. No matter how skilled the Baron is, it's impossible for him to break through my army and save the Duke.”
Erik gritted his teeth and glared back at the Duke. The Duke responded with a smile.
“Then why are your eyes trembling?”
It was because, of everyone here, Erik was the one who knew Allen best. Erik desperately suppressed his anxiety and pointed his sword at Allen.
“Kill the Baron! Kill him, no matter what it takes!!”
His anxiety was relieved when the nearest soldier plunged a spear into Allen's shoulder. The wound was deep; he might even lose the use of that arm.
'He hasn't fully recovered yet!'
Erik couldn't help but think so. The Allen he knew would never have allowed such an attack to land.
However, it didn't take long for him to realize his mistake. Allen, paying no mind to the spear in his shoulder, lopped off the head of the soldier who had stabbed him.
He then roughly yanked the spear from his arm and swung his sword at the next opponent. He didn't look like a man with an injured shoulder at all.
'Holy water!? But he didn't drink any!'
Erik's face filled with bewilderment.
@
My usual combat style was simple. Unless I needed to make a show of it, I would use my 'eyes that see the world slowly' to dodge every attack and then aim for a vital point!
It was a method that faithfully followed Andrei's teaching: regardless of total strength, anyone will die if you strike their vitals.
The problem was that this method was extremely inefficient against the Pope's vaunted army of the undying.
It was a complete mismatch against the combination of Eastern drugs that suppressed pain and induced aggression, and holy water that could instantly heal most external wounds.
On top of that, Erik was close to the Duke. If the Duke were to die, all my plans would turn to dust. In other words, I was in a hurry.
'I have to do the exact opposite.'
So I changed my method. I knew the enemy soldier's spear was aimed squarely at my shoulder, but I let it hit. I had eliminated the 'dodge' step.
By doing so, I took the enemy soldier's head a beat faster than usual. The speed of my horse didn't slow in the slightest.
Of course, I didn't just take the hit blindly. I'm not the type to sacrifice myself for some grim-faced old man.
The pain from the rather deep wound in my shoulder faded quickly. It was thanks to the effects of my Stamina stat, which had been raised to a level comparable to holy water.
'Give the flesh to take the bone... No, pretend to give the flesh and take the bone!'
Besides, there's a limit to the kind of fatal wounds an infantryman can inflict on me while I'm mounted. Moreover, I was armed head to toe in chainmail, so I had nothing to fear.
The result...
“A-A devil! He's a devil!! The Knight of the Apocalypse—!”
I was receiving accolades from the very enemy soldiers who had been called an army of devils by Signir's men.
And that wasn't all. The enemy soldiers, unable to overcome their fear even with the power of the drugs, began to back away.
“Is he a one-man army...?”
By the time I reached Duke Signir, they were turning their backs and fleeing. The absence of their commander likely played a part in that.
“Where's Erik?”
When I arrived, I saw that Erik, who had been face-to-face with the Duke, had vanished.
“He took off the moment you got close. He used his soldiers as a shield, so I couldn't stop him.”
I saw Erik in the direction the Duke was pointing. He had already retreated to the edge of his formation.
Watching the enemy soldiers belatedly notice their commander's retreat and begin to flee, the Duke stood beside me.
“Will you give chase?”
I shook my head.
“If we do, he might rally his troops and counterattack. We could be surrounded.”
Erik still had superior numbers. Even I wouldn't have charged if the Duke hadn't succeeded in his ambush and created a favorable situation.
“Isn't it a waste? He's not the type to make the same mistake twice. He'll surely return stronger next time.”
“It's fine. His opponent is someone else.”
I can't be the one to kill Erik. It would cause problems later when I take over the Dresden territory.