Chapter 174: The Final War of the Northern Continent
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 174: The Final War of the Northern Continent
An immortal army that knows no fear and does not die easily is, by all rights, the strongest. Yet even such a powerful force has a weakness.
Stamina.
Those whose minds have been ravaged by drugs can taste nothing from an ordinary meal.
To an addict, flavorful meat is no different from tough rubber, and swallowing water can be as painful as fire scorching their throat.
It is because all their desires have been reduced to a single craving for the drug; their bodies yearn for nothing else.
For them, eating is merely a means to gain the energy to take more drugs. They are content with replenishing only the bare minimum.
This was why an addict’s stamina could never be good.
Thus, to perfect the immortal army, the drug dosage must be carefully controlled, used as bait to enforce eating and training.
But with the Pope, the very man who should have been overseeing this, high on his own supply, it was bound to fail.
Furthermore, the drug wrings out every last drop of their already meager stamina.
As a result, their momentum at the start of a battle is like a tidal wave, but their stamina drains all the more quickly.
The problem was, by the time the drug-addled soldiers noticed, their stamina was already completely depleted.
Just like now.
“Huh…?”
A soldier who, just a moment before, had been hammering away at a tower shield, suddenly collapsed. Before he could even comprehend his own state, a spear pierced his chest.
“Die!!”
The holy water was no help. He didn't even have the strength left to pull out the waterskin tied to his waist.
The number of soldiers dying helplessly was multiplying like weeds along the fiercest front of the battlefield.
“This is the moment the Baron spoke of!”
Duke Signir, commanding the infantry, could not have missed this. He immediately signaled his adjutant, who brought a horn to his lips.
Bwoooo-!
Standard-bearers waved their flags relentlessly, and the infantry’s movements changed in response.
“Thrust!”
The shield bearers in the front line, who had been holding back the enemy’s tidal wave of an assault, mustered the last of their strength and thrust their spears. The exhausted enemies collapsed one after another.
They didn’t stop there. They twisted their shields in the gaps to create openings. Their comrades behind them poured through these gaps and charged the enemy.
“Dieeee!!”
These were soldiers specializing in melees, armed with face-sized round shields and one-handed swords.
The enemy’s front line, already drained of stamina, couldn't respond to the sudden counterattack. Once again, the enemy soldiers at the front fell in droves.
“Shields again!”
“Raise shields!”
It was only the infantry at the front, where the fighting was most intense, who had run out of stamina. The enemy soldiers behind them still had energy to spare.
Thus, soldiers armed with shields and spears stepped forward again. The soldiers with short swords and shields crossed paths with them, falling back.
This pattern repeated: exhaust the enemy’s front line, then counterattack once the objective was achieved. The immortal army’s numbers were slowly but surely dwindling.
But this didn't mean they had seized the upper hand.
The immortal army, outnumbering us two to one, was already moving to strike our flanks and encircle us.
That was why I had to act. There was no longer any need to keep the Pope’s attention fixed on me.
“We’re turning back!”
After creating some space by swinging my halberd wide, I spurred my horse. The enemy's detached force was so focused on shielding the Pope from me that the encirclement to their rear was thin.
“Haha! Giving up already, are you?”
The Pope, oblivious to the situation of his main army, roared with laughter. Gaining confidence, he went a step further.
“To the one who brings me that bastard's head, I will grant enough holy water to drink for three days and nights!”
Their eyes wild with greed, the enemy's detached force scrambled after me. So desperate were they for the drug-laced holy water that they pursued me even as I cut into their own main army.
“Gak!”
“Aaargh!”
Breaking through the main force was easier than before. This time, it was because we were hitting them from behind.
The enemy’s main army was literally swept away. The bigger problem was the chaos that erupted when they collided with the detached force following us.
“Move! Get out of the way!”
“Fuuuck! What’s going on!”
Blinded by their craving, the detached force didn’t hesitate to swing their swords when the main army got in their way.
The soldiers of the main army didn't just stand there, either. They had been ordered by the Pope to attack our main force, so to them, the detached force was also an obstacle.
In our wake, the entangled main force and detached force turned their swords on each other.
At the front of the formation, they were being pushed back by the counterattack of the infantry under the Duke’s command, while utter chaos reigned in the center.
Meanwhile, the rear of the formation simply continued to advance, following the Pope's original orders. The immortal army was collapsing, tearing itself apart.
“You idiots…!”
The Pope lacked the ability to resolve such a complex situation. It might have been different if he had a field commander, but the Pope, for whom the immortal army was his lifeline, was reluctant to give command to anyone else.
“Then again, what kind of command could you expect from a bunch of junkies.”
Thanks to that, I caught my breath and immediately spurred my horse to support our flank. It was the cavalry’s job to protect the infantry’s flanks.
It was then that the Pope’s forces, which I had momentarily forgotten, came to meet us.
“Baron!! I won’t let you run rampant any longer!”
It was the Templar Knights. Having lost their opponents when we broke through the center of the main army, they were now adrift. With a force of just over a hundred, they stood boldly before us.
“Was the lesson not enough?”
The Templar Knights had suffered a harsh defeat at my hands back in the Holy Land. If not for that incident, their numbers would have been twice what they were now.
“Don’t compare this to back then! You and your army are exhausted, while we are fresh! You will pay dearly for underestimating us!”
He was right. We had attempted consecutive breakthroughs, and both men and horses were exhausted.
The Templar Knights, on the other hand, had unintentionally conserved all their energy, enough to make up for their numerical disadvantage.
They readjusted their grips on their weapons and took stances as if ready to charge at any moment.
Meanwhile, the Pope used this opportunity to order both his main army and the detached force to charge Duke Signir’s main force.
At the Pope’s command, the chaos quickly subsided. With the detached force joining as reinforcements, the tide of battle became tense once more.
If we didn't rescue the flank in time, we could lose. Even if we won, heavy losses would mean we'd done all the hard work just for some mutt to reap the rewards.
Opportunists are everywhere, after all.
As I prepared to charge, I asked.
“But tell me, what are you fighting for?”
The Templar Knights could still be reasoned with. It meant they hadn't abused the drugs. That’s why they had to be wavering psychologically.
For an ordinary person, the atrocities the Pope and his army had committed in the royal capital of Aran were unimaginable.
“What…?”
“You all once believed in the Lord, pledging to spread His teachings throughout the world. Yet now, you risk your lives for a villain who commits every evil imaginable. I can't help but be curious. What great reward were you promised to make you forsake your faith, abandon your humanity, and choose to become devils?”
Moreover, weren't these the Templar Knights, sworn to the Lord? Their sense of morality should have been higher than that of common folk. The shock must have been all the greater for them.
“…Do you think we wanted this? We just wanted a small piece of land and a title. We never dreamed the Pope would do something so insane…!”
I could guess what had happened. They must have been slowly corrupted by the Pope's evil, like clothes getting soaked in a steady drizzle.
It started with a small evil, but by the time they came to their senses, they were part of a monstrous one. Of course, that couldn't be an excuse.
“A pathetic excuse. If you knew you’d taken the wrong path, you should have turned back immediately.”
“…By the time we realized something was wrong, it was too late to turn back.”
“Hmph. There's a saying: 'The moment you think it's too late is actually the earliest you can start.' It's not too late, even now.”
The knight hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
“It’s already too late. We are slaves to the drug…”
It seemed that while their minds weren't as ravaged as the common soldiers', they were already severely addicted. As if there was nothing more to say, the knight spurred his horse.
I clicked my tongue and discarded my halberd. It had been damaged beyond use after cutting and piercing so many enemies. I drew a war hammer instead.
“Hiyah!”
The sight of a hundred horsemen charging was overwhelming. It felt like a natural disaster, a calamity that a mere human could not withstand.
But I had the eyes that see the world slowly. The gradually decreasing speed offset the pressure, reducing the enemies to mere targets.
The knight at the lead, with whom I had spoken, covered his torso with a shield held alongside his reins and aimed his sword at me. There was no visible opening to strike.
So I simply drove my war hammer straight at his shield. Just before impact, the knight’s sword twitched. He intended to block and then immediately thrust.
However,
“Gack-”
The war hammer I swung not only shattered his shield but also struck the knight in the chest. The impact sent his body flying into the air.
His foot caught in the stirrup, saving him from falling off his horse, but he was dragged helplessly along the ground.
I had no time to check if he was alive or dead. I had to face the next knight immediately.
I used the hook of my war hammer to catch and parry a sword aimed at my face, then immediately retaliated by aiming for his head.
CRACK!
His skull burst like a bomb. He wore a fine helmet, but it didn't change the outcome.
In that opening, a sword thrust at me from the opposite side. I quickly leaned back, avoiding a fatal blow. Sparks flew from my forearm.
The enemy’s sword not only damaged the chainmail on my arm but also severed my reins. It didn't stop there, sliding up my arm to aim for my neck.
“Hup.”
Instead of the severed reins, I grabbed the man’s sword. I yanked hard, pulling him toward me.
“Wha-what…!”
I threw the bewildered man to the ground. The knights following me stabbed him in unison. The knight died without being able to resist.
“Die!!”
Another knight aimed for a full-body tackle. The horse he rode didn't hesitate either.
It was strange, no matter how well-trained a warhorse was. Horses are naturally timid animals. It seemed they had fed the horses drugs as well.
“Whoa, whoa.”
I patted my horse’s neck instead of using the reins, and it understood my intent and turned.
I narrowly avoided the tackle while swinging my war hammer upward from below.
“Kaaargh-”
The enemy knight’s massive body flew through the air.
My role was finished once I had broken their front line. Our cavalry, outnumbering the enemy two to one, surrounded and annihilated the remaining foes.
“Support the flank immediately!”
Just as we were about to move to support our infantry’s flank, Wepilder pointed behind us.
“The Pope is escaping!”
Seeing the battle turn completely against his expectations, the Pope, scared out of his wits, had begun to flee.
“My lord! If we let the Pope escape, there's no telling what schemes he'll cook up next!”
We didn't know how much holy water and drugs he had left, and in his decade as Pope, he had amassed enormous material and human assets.
If we let him live, he would surely become a lingering threat. The knights proposed turning our horses to pursue him.
The Pope, having thrown even his detached force into the fray, was defenseless, and capturing the leader was a great achievement, was it not?
“Our allies come first. If our losses are too great, some opportunist might emerge to claim the throne. If that happens, we'll have done all the work for his benefit.”
“But we can’t just let the Pope go!”
“Who said I was letting him go?”
“Pardon…?”
I watched the Pope, who had almost reached the city walls, then spurred my horse. The infantry’s flank was waiting for our help.
*
“This can’t be happening! It can’t be!”
The Pope couldn't believe it. His forces had been twice as large. And the larger force was an immortal army armed with drugs and holy water.
So why!
How could they possibly lose!?
The Pope, who had been so focused on Allen that he'd failed to properly assess the state of his main army, had no way of knowing why this was happening. Nor did he have the time.
Waaaaah!!
A cheer erupted from the direction he had just fled. Judging by the clear voices, it was the enemy’s cheer. The battle had already been decided.
“Hurry! Faster!”
At the Pope’s command, prostitutes whipped the soldiers who were carrying a luxurious bed on their shoulders. In the meantime, the Pope chugged the drug-laced holy water.
“Gulp, gulp. Heh. It’s not over yet. Do you think I’ll fall just like this!”
How much church property had he embezzled during his decade as the head of the church? Moreover, half the churches spread across the northern continent were filled with his people.
If he survived, he could always make a comeback. At worst, he could wash his identity clean, become a local lord, and live like a king in his own territory.
The Pope genuinely believed this.
However,
“Fire!”
Just as he entered the path through the walls Allen had built, he was greeted by a volley of arrows. From atop the walls, large stones began to fall.
“Ugh!”
The bed tumbled over, and the Pope, who had been riding on it, fell and rolled on the ground. Still, he was one of the lucky ones.
“Gaaah-”
The soldiers carrying the bed, and even the prostitutes, were riddled with arrows. Only the Pope was left. It was clearly intentional.
The Pope instinctively stumbled backward until his back hit the wall.
When he looked forward again, he met countless pairs of eyes glowing fiercely in the darkness.
“Wh-who are you! Do you have any idea who I am…!”
“I know you well. Aren't you the master of the soldiers who were ordered to violate my wife?”
A foot shot out from the darkness. Its owner was a young man, a common sight in the royal capital of Aran.
“And the master of the soldiers who toyed with my husband and killed him as he tried to protect me!”
A middle-aged woman appeared beside him. One by one, figures emerged: the citizens of Aran, the ones who had been so cruelly tormented by the immortal army.
Among them was a boy.
“M-my parents’ murderer…!”
In stark contrast to his tear-filled eyes, the dagger in the boy's hand glinted menacingly. He was the first to move.
“N-no-!”
The Pope desperately looked for an escape, but before he could, the boy’s dagger plunged into his abdomen. The fury of the other citizens followed.
That was not the end.
“You will not be allowed to die. Ever.”
When Allen finally entered Aran after the post-battle cleanup was finished, the Pope was in a gruesome state.
His limbs had all been severed, and a low flame was constantly searing his flesh.
The reason he was still alive was that holy water was being endlessly supplied through a tube connected to his mouth.
“Mmph, mmph…!”
Spotting Allen, the Pope pleaded with his eyes. Please, kill me. Allen paused for a moment, then turned his back and walked away without a word.
“Mmph, mmmph, mmmph!!!”
A muffled scream followed him. It would continue for three days and three nights.