Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Changing Hands (2)
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Furosange's main fortress.
The walls were several times higher and steeper than any ordinary fortress walls.
Carved directly from natural bedrock, these walls were sturdy enough to repel even a giant clan's invasion.
The slope was too steep for soldiers to climb, the surface too rough, and the battlements atop the walls were fitted with sharp iron spikes.
Standing tall like a declaration of isolation from the world, these impenetrable walls and steel gates turned Furosange Fortress into an impregnable stronghold.
And there, atop them...
"If you don't wanna scram, I'll feed ya arrows till you're full."
Federback stood, holding the Meursault banner high.
Phewing!
An arrow shot by Haundid pierced the throat of yet another ranger.
"Kek!?"
The ranger collapsed, spewing blood.
Meursault knights promptly appeared along the battlements and began loosing arrows.
"Come on, step up if you wanna rack up some merits!"
"Kill plenty, and we'll treat ya that much better later!"
"You heard the rumors, right? Our young master's got a fair system of rewards and punishments!"
And that wasn't all.
"Time to quit the mercenary life and start fresh as Meursault knights!"
"Eh, we just stick with whoever pays best."
"Let's go!"
Familiar faces popped up one after another along the walls.
They were mercenaries temporarily hired by Furosange, or barbarian-born soldiers.
For some reason, they had sided with the Meursaults.
"W-What in the...!"
Serubret Viscount stumbled back in retreat.
Shedioldis couldn't hide his bewilderment either.
Soon, Serubret made his call.
"R-R-R-R-Retreat! Fall back for now!"
Furosange's rangers began withdrawing under a hail of arrows.
Even as they fled, arrows kept raining down, embedding in their heads and backs.
"......"
Federback gazed down indifferently at the rangers panicking below the walls and losing their lives.
"Looks like things wrapped up nicely."
Memories of last night's events came flooding back.
Just hours ago, he had taken the fortress with only 33 knights—like toasting beans in lightning.
Hours earlier.
Furosange soldier Hasadin stood watch with swollen, puffy eyes.
Whether his eyes were open or shut, the view straight ahead never changed.
Vast snowy plains, a white horizon, swirling powder snow, a gray sky.
And one more thing that stayed the same.
The way his fellow soldiers looked at him.
"Hey— dummy Hasadin."
"Stand watch properly. Unless you want another beating."
"Kukuku— stupid bastard. Didn't even recognize the patriarch last time, huh?"
"That's what ya get for bein' a filthy barbarian. Blood don't lie."
Unlike the other soldiers, Hasadin had coppery skin and red curly hair.
This was the mark of barbarian blood from far further north, not pure northern stock.
Even after three generations in Furosange territory, he was always treated like an outsider.
His comrades called him a foreigner behind his back, and when Hasadin failed to recognize the returning Furosange patriarch at a glance, they used it as an excuse to bully him openly.
'Damn bastards. Grandpa moved us here three generations ago, and they still treat me like an outsider.'
Hasadin had endured it all this time, gritting his teeth.
When neighbors blocked the road in front of his house and demanded tolls, when he had to buy well water that others got for free, when he had to pay village development fees that no one else did—he endured, just like his grandfather and father.
But.
Thwack!
Their baseless violence, mockery, and ostracism were truly unbearable.
'Endure it. If I snap, I won't be able to feed my family.'
Hasadin squeezed his bruised, swollen eyes shut.
The other soldiers, bored with his lack of reaction, wandered off elsewhere.
"Kukuku— retarded fuck."
"Takes a beating without a peep. Definitely not a northerner."
"Hey, keep proper watch. We're just gonna step out for a smoke."
They rounded the bulging watchtower out of sight, heading to a recessed spot.
They planned to hole up there and light up.
"......"
Hasadin leaned against the wall, head bowed.
He could proudly say he'd lived an unremarkable but steady life.
He couldn't claim he'd never dozed off or looked away during guard duty.
But he'd never missed a single day, always did his job without dumping it on others.
Cleared clogged drains by hand, arrived 10 minutes early every shift, treated gate traffic politely and diligently.
Yet the looks he got were always contempt and sneers.
Barbarian, freak, outsider, untrustworthy—everyone treated Hasadin like dirt.
For the first time, Hasadin thought of leaving this land.
The place his family had lived for three generations.
......Maybe that's why.
Hasadin let the stranger in unfamiliar garb approach too closely to the gate.
"Halt. Hands up. We'll need to frisk you. State your identity..."
But like any seasoned soldier, Hasadin gripped his spear short to block the stranger.
The moment he reached to pat down the man's pockets...
...Crack!
The stranger grabbed Hasadin's throat with one hand.
A youthful face peered from under a black robe.
Snow-white hair, ruby-red eyes, delicate features that could be mistaken for a girl's at a glance.
"Guhk! Ngh!? Who...?"
Hasadin gasped, and the stranger replied.
"I'm Federback Meursault."
"......!"
Hasadin knew the name.
The monster Furosange's patriarch was desperate to kill.
The madman who'd just severed Great Young Master Pinyn's wrist.
That dreaded villain was just a boy?
But the strength from the boy's hand was real.
The one who named himself Federback said,
"Open the gate."
"I-I can't do it alone!"
"Then die."
Federback drew a short awl from his belt.
Hasadin quickly added,
"Don't kill me! I'm trying to help!"
"......?"
"I won't get in your way! I can even assist!"
Federback tilted his head.
He kept the awl ready as he asked,
"If you're lying to save your skin, the pain will be far worse..."
"Push that rock beside you aside, and there's a sally port! It only goes halfway up the wall, though! A bit further, there's a rat hole. The ground's soft, so water leaks in sometimes. Too narrow for an adult man, but maybe for your build! Your clothes'll get filthy, though! Might even swallow a few earthworms!"
Hasadin's words poured out in a rush.
Federback's eyes narrowed.
"Not much backbone for a Furosange soldier."
"Look at me."
"?"
"This look gets me called a barbarian all the time. Lived here 70 years over three generations, and I'm still 'foreigner,' 'outsider,' even 'freak.' How could a guy like that have backbone?"
The quick-witted Federback replied,
"No discrimination in Meursault. Everyone lives together in harmony."
"Even with different skin or hair?"
"Doesn't matter. As long as you don't break the law badly, everyone lives equally and gets along."
"Never broken the law in my life. Well, except a few jaywalkings or littering..."
"Then you're qualified. Move to Meursault territory."
"I... got a big family."
"As long as it's not five digits. We even give settlement bonuses now. Pay's double Furosange's."
"Makes me wanna go right now."
"Might as well rack up some merits on the way. Rewards are generous."
"Like, help you—er, my lord—scale the walls and seize the fortress?"
"Quick on the uptake. I like it."
"But like I said, can't open the main gate. Needs three men. Instead, I'll show you a side door on a less steep wall section. Not really a door—it's an unrepaired hole from wall repairs. Halfway up, so a ladder..."
Hasadin pointed to a distant corner of the watchtower.
Federback followed his finger.
In a spot no one would notice without being shown, a tiny hole gaped.
Federback nodded.
"No ladder needed. I'll climb barehanded."
"Pardon? It's pretty high..."
"Fine. Where's that hole lead?"
"To the hay shed behind the walls. Stacked with dry fodder for the warhorses—one match and it'll go up big."
"How long till firefighters arrive?"
"Five minutes tops. Guards'll be thin then. Actually, they're already lax—the unit guarding it went after the young master."
"Great intel. No lies, right?"
"Why show loyalty to guys who call me freak and beat me?"
"True. A man should stick close to those who see his worth. What's your name?"
"Hasadin."
"Won't forget it. Interested in knighthood?"
"Very."
"Bring your family to Meursault territory. Find me after. Training'll be rough."
"Bring it."
Federback jerked his chin backward.
Haundid, hidden behind a snow-draped hill, now stood at Federback's back.
He grinned and clapped Hasadin's shoulder.
"Nice to work with, rookie."
"Y-You too!"
Thirty-two Meursault knights surrounded them, flashing white teeth in grins.
Skin tones and hair varied, but their expressions matched perfectly.
Hasadin turned out more capable than expected.
He recruited several mercenary bands still griping over unpaid wages from Furosange House.
And scraped together every discriminated half-breed soldier.
Brought them all to Federback.
With his 33 knights, Federback slipped through the wall hole under Hasadin's guidance, easily seized the inner fortress, then linked up with fifty more allies.
Rootless mercenaries, shunned mixed-blood soldiers—all joined Federback.
After that, it was a breeze.
In just one hour, Federback slaughtered the fifty inner-wall soldiers.
Propped their corpses along the walls and sprayed water to freeze them upright.
With his new fifty followers plus the frozen fifty, the walls looked fully manned.
So when Viscount Serubret returned late to the main fortress, he had no choice but to assume every soldier inside had betrayed them.