Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Fire Ox Formation (3)
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Federback.
He inspected the oxen in the stable.
They were large-framed beasts with muscular limbs, their horns selectively bred to be thick and blunt.
Federback swung his sword down on an ox horn.
*Crack—*
The diagonally severed horns now ended in razor-sharp points.
Federback tied oil-soaked bundles of straw to the oxen’s tails.
Once ignited, the beasts would rampage madly through the castle, spreading flames everywhere.
Utilizing their enhanced muscles to full effect, smashing through anything in their path.
‘Now they’re ready to launch all at once.’
Federback turned toward the nearby cattle shed.
But then.
“You’ve arrived.”
Houndid stood in front of the stable, his expression somewhat troubled.
Wondering what was wrong, Federback approached and spotted a man in one corner of the shed.
A bearded fellow with a thick, stubbly face stared at Federback.
Federback asked Houndid,
“Who’s this guy?”
“The stablehand.”
“Chase him off.”
“Well... he’s refusing to evacuate.”
“Why?”
“He says he’s guarded this place his whole life. Claims he can’t leave the pregnant cows behind...”
Houndid hesitated.
At that moment, the stablehand shouted,
“What have these oxen done to deserve this?! They’re gentle and kind, not even fleeing at a time like this! They’ve toiled their whole lives for humans without committing any sin!”
Behind him, a few trembling calves were visible.
The stablehand hugged the oxen, his voice choking with sobs.
“Why must these small, pitiful lives be sacrificed in humans’ power struggles?! What crime have they committed against you, Young Master?! What about the old oxen who’ve just retired after plowing fields and birthing calves for humans their entire lives?! Or the newborn calves who can barely walk yet?! What wrong have they done to have their horns shaved and tails burned?! Why?!”
“......”
Houndid fidgeted awkwardly with his sword hilt.
Then Federback spoke.
“It’s not humans’ power struggles—it’s the strong preying on each other for gain. Not all humans are strong. Just like this war has nothing to do with your own interests.”
“What do you...?”
Federback continued toward the bewildered stablehand.
“You keep asking what crime the oxen have committed, but no creature in this world dies because of sin. Snails eaten by birds, earthworms drying up after crawling onto roads, mantises drowning from parasites, spiders dying mid-molt—do any of those perish as punishment for evil deeds?”
“......”
Neither the stablehand nor Houndid could respond.
Federback said,
“Even if villains die, it’s because they lacked strength or their time ran out—not to atone for sins. That’s how everything in the world works.”
An ox beside them let out a mournful low.
Federback gazed at it impassively.
“These oxen are the same. They’re just caught in the strong’s power struggles and die. No different from the grass they’ve grazed to death.”
“......”
“Is there any life born swearing an oath to some destiny? No, they’re born by mere chance.”
“......”
“They die the same way. No life perishes for some grand purpose. Just by chance.”
All things stem from chance, and that chance arises from the power struggles of the strong.
Federback, who had fought the Demon King his entire life, knew full well that life held neither great weight nor sudden preciousness.
And he clearly remembered the backs of certain fools who had burned themselves out fighting for such insignificant things.
Federback addressed the stablehand.
“Pleading innocence won’t help you survive. The world doesn’t let the guiltless live long or the guilty die short.
“......”
“If you want to live, get stronger. If not, at least show some effort fleeing from those stronger than you.”
With that, Federback walked past the stablehand.
“......”
The man could only shed thick tears from his large, ox-like eyes, refusing to leave the calves’ side.
Just a few hours later.
Bibuak Castle had turned into hell.
Black smoke billowed skyward.
Beneath it rampaged a herd of maddened oxen.
[Mooooooo!!]
Oxen with tails ablaze charged straight ahead with terrifying momentum.
Smeared in charcoal and ash, they were nearly invisible in the darkness.
Impossible to gauge their size, speed, or even identity.
Such beasts barreled into the soldiers.
The primary victims were Purosange’s lancers gathered in the central plaza.
“W-What the hell is that?!”
Serubrett had no time to voice his doubts.
One ox hurtled like a black thunderbolt, slamming into the flank of a lancer’s warhorse.
*Splurt!*
The sharpened iron horn snapped the horse’s spine and tore open its belly.
The Purosange lancer couldn’t withstand the impact and flew off, smashing into the castle wall and dying instantly.
*Sizzle!*
Blood spraying from man and horse ignited on contact with the flames, boiling into thick steam.
The air reeked of blood amid the choking vapors.
Beyond them, more black oxen charged relentlessly.
[Mooooooo!!]
[Mooooooo!!]
[Screee— Ssss—!! Screee—]
Once their eyes rolled back, the oxen never stopped.
These massive flesh chariots, brimming with overwhelming power and stamina, trampled lancers and horses alike without mercy.
*Splurt—Thud! Thud! Boom!*
Blood, flesh chunks, and entrails flew everywhere.
Horses and humans mingled equally, pulverized into minced meat.
A catastrophe. A catastrophe beyond compare.
Only when nearly half the lancers lay dead did Serubrett realize they were oxen.
“Oxen! They’ve smeared them with soot! Sharpened the horns! Lit fires on their tails! More are coming this way! Evacuate!”
No orders to fight back emerged.
Facing not enemy soldiers but berserk oxen, flight was the only option.
*Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud!!*
Vast numbers of oxen flooded the central plaza.
Purosange’s lancers desperately fled into alleys, but the oxen pursued relentlessly.
“Up! Get to the roofs! Anywhere high!”
Serubrett had to take refuge on a civilian rooftop.
Humiliating, but no time to be picky.
Purosange’s lancers scrambled onto any roof, wall, or chimney.
But height offered no full safety.
*Whoosh!*
Flames leaping from the oxen’s tails ignited alleys everywhere.
Oil-soaked straw bundles scattered through the air, turning the entire Bibuak Castle into tinder for the inferno.
“G-Good god...”
The Purosange lancers stood frozen, speechless.
No horizon, no walls beyond, no mountains atop—nothing visible.
Only charred black earth and soaring crimson flames.
Screams rose from below from unevacuated horses and comrades.
The ox herd still rampaged through the castle interior, dragging fire and death in their wake.
“P-Put out the fires!”
Serubrett shouted, but no one heard.
His command itself was swallowed by the roaring blaze.
How could anyone extinguish fires amid rampaging oxen anyway?
In the end, Serubrett revised his order.
“Retreat! Move to the rocky highlands untouched by fire!”
Lancers, soldiers—all fled to higher ground.
Not out of obedience, but pure survival instinct.
But.
*Thud!*
A lancer leaping roof-to-roof tumbled, struck by an arrow.
He failed to land on the opposite roof and plummeted into the flaming alley below.
“!?”
The following lancer startled, scanning around.
Then.
*Splurt!*
A blade burst through his chest, splitting his spine.
Behind the collapsing lancer emerged a boy.
Hair and skin dyed red by firelight, eyes glowing redder than the flames.
*Slink...*
Federback melted back into the shadows behind a chimney.
And.
*Thud!*
Another lancer landing on a nearby roof took a crossbow bolt to the brow and crumpled.
*Thunk! Splurt—Crack! Crunch! Splinter—*
Federback held a key escape route on the outskirts, picking off passing lancers one by one.
Like a spider ambushing prey from a burrow.
Lancers pierced through lungs or throats littered the area behind chimneys.
*Thud!*
Federback fired his crossbow, killing another on a side roof, then shifted position.
*Rustle—*
Sliding down a wooden pillar like a snake, Federback headed into an alley between roofs.
There.
“Ughhhh...”
Purosange lancers writhed on the ground, clutching their feet, piled in heaps.
“Quite the catch.”
Federback approached like a fisherman checking his trap.
Before unleashing the Fire Ox Formation, he had scattered sharp caltrops across certain roofs, lightly covered with snow.
These upward-spiked welds impaled the lancers’ soles, protruding through their insteps.
Some misstepped, piercing from heel to ankle bone.
Mobility lost, they slid down the sloped roofs into this alley.
And Meursault knights awaited them without fail.
*Slice— Slice— Slice—*
The crippled Purosange lancers all met their end with throats slit horizontally by Federback’s dagger.
Leaving the piled corpses, Federback headed to the opposite alley.
There.
“I beat you to it, Young Master.”
Houndid grinned.
Behind him lay about ten lancers with caltrops in their feet.
Federback nodded.
“Got Serubrett?”
“Saw him heading to the rocky zone earlier. Seems he luckily dodged the caltrops.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just take as many lancer heads as possible.”
“Shedioldis—that woman’s nowhere in sight. Trampled by the oxen?”
“No. She’s alive.”
Federback turned.
A small tower, like an annex, stood atop a solid rocky hill.
The presumed final refuge where Serubrett and surviving Purosange had holed up.
Federback strode toward it, flames at his back.
“We’ll see her soon enough.”
The extermination of Purosange was nearing its end.