Midnight Assault
Rood woke from his sleep to find night had already fallen beyond the window. A lantern burned on the bedside table, so the room wasn't completely dark. His entire body felt heavy and sore, as if he'd come down with a bad fever—probably the aftereffects of the poison.
'I really almost died this time.'
Rood had come close to death several times during the war, but those moments had always come with some level of preparation and resolve, so he hadn't felt much fear. This time, however, was different. The fact that he'd been poisoned without realizing it and collapsed without putting up any resistance left a bitter taste in his mouth.
'That little brat must have been living on her own battlefield too.'
Rood recalled how Isabelle had calmly and swiftly handled the situation when he'd been poisoned. The existence of a room dedicated to herbs right in the middle of the mansion probably meant she'd faced such threats many times before. It reminded him that everyone fought their own battles. The narrow-minded view he'd held when he first came down to the south suddenly felt embarrassing.
'Just because people fight in different ways doesn't mean I should dismiss them.'
Some fought with swords, others with pens. Some proved their strength by cutting down enemies, while others used their heads to ensure the people around them could live well. If that was the case, Rood thought, it might be necessary to set aside the fighting style he'd grown used to and try fighting in a different way.
As Rood was organizing his thoughts, he tilted his head toward the sound of footsteps outside the door. Knock, knock. At the two light raps, Rood turned his gaze toward the door.
"May I come in?"
Rood confirmed that he was still lying there naked and answered.
"Please wait a moment."
When Rood opened the wardrobe, he found a neatly folded white cotton shirt and brown linen pants. He changed quickly, then strapped on his sword belt above his waist, adjusting it so the scabbard rested against his left thigh.
"It's fine now. You may enter."
"Then I shall. If you're naked again, I'll make you regret it, you know?"
The door opened, and at the sight of Isabelle, Rood had to fight back a laugh. She was wearing pink pajamas embroidered with rabbit patterns.
"Why are you wearing a sword at this hour? It's not like you'll have any use for it."
"To a soldier, a sword is like a lover."
Isabelle giggled in response.
"Rood, you're more innocent than you look. You actually believe that you shouldn't be apart from your lover even for a moment."
Innocent? A child? Rood was quite taken aback by the assessment. He couldn't shake the reminder that this girl who looked like a young maiden was actually a year older than him.
"So what brings you here?"
"Nothing special. I figured the detoxification would be mostly complete by now, so I came to check on you."
"Even if you treat me this well, I have no intention of becoming your guard knight."
Isabelle laughed again. Irritated by that laugh, Rood asked bluntly.
"Why do you keep laughing?"
"Rood, when I told you that just staying by my side was already doing more than enough, you looked like you had no idea what to do if I did any more. It was funny, so I laughed. Sorry."
Of course it was. In Rood's memory, there weren't many people who had deliberately stayed by his side. He ran both hands down his face. His cheeks felt just a little warm.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Other than feeling a bit sore, there's nothing wrong. Thank you again."
Rood knelt neatly and bowed his head briefly.
"Oh come on, there's no need for that. Anyway, starting tomorrow you'll be treated as a proper guest, and the conscription date is set for a week from now."
"You've already decided?"
Assigning personnel within the army wouldn't be difficult for the Grand Strategist, but finishing the task this quickly meant something else.
'She put this matter ahead of everything else.'
"It's all~ part of my strategy. A strategy to make you my guard. What do you think? A little tempted, aren't you?"
At Isabelle's playful words, Rood couldn't help but laugh too.
"Your schemes are impressive. Still, my answer remains the same."
"Anyway, now that I've confirmed you're alright, I'll be going. Yawn… sleep well."
"Yes. Good night."
When Isabelle waved, Rood quickly closed the door. Thud.
"Hmm, it seems Rood really doesn't like me very much."
As Isabelle walked down the corridor, Rood leaned against the door, trying to hold onto his thoughts.
'I don't dislike you.'
Rood didn't dislike Isabelle. What he disliked was the emotion that kept surging up inside him whenever he was around her. She wasn't exactly his type, but perhaps it was because she had plenty of charm as a person? Every time he thought she was cute, that voice came back—the voice that always held him back.
'Don't fall into pointless obsession and emotion.'
Rood took a deep breath and nodded. If he let himself be shaken, it would only become an obstacle on the path to gaining overwhelming power. For the sake of his one and only goal, he had to return to the battlefield.
'I'm not the kind of person who can protect someone. I shouldn't repeat the same mistake.'
Rood ran a hand over his sword. It was an old habit, remembering the comrade his blade had failed to protect.
Everyone dies when their time comes.
That day, Rood had closed his comrade's eyes with trembling hands.
Just because Rood had caused a scene on his first day didn't mean everyone hated him. They too had been inwardly furious at Galliot's behavior, and even the ones who had rushed at Rood when he knocked their leader down had felt a sense of satisfaction. Still, the reason they had followed Galliot as their squad leader was because, despite being a low-ranking soldier, he was a noble's son.
Among them, Dale had been the first to approach Rood.
"Hey! Why do you only ever train?"
"It's better than dying."
Rood swung his sword without a word. He was still clumsy compared to now, but there was power in the way he cut and connected his strikes.
"Hey, everyone dies when their time comes. Since you don't know when that'll be, you should enjoy life a little."
Dale stood before the silent Rood, holding a wooden practice sword.
"Let's finish this quick and have some fun. How about the winner gets all the cube steak tonight?"
Cube steak. While others complained it was tough and chewy, it was one of the few foods Rood couldn't resist, even if he pretended otherwise.
"Come at me. I'll end it in ten moves."
By mealtime, all of Dale's cube steak had been piled onto Rood's tray.
"Hey, I did pretty well, right? I lasted fifty seconds."
"The loser has no right to speak. Keep training. Still…"
Rood returned three pieces of cube steak to Dale's tray.
"Not bad. Let's do it again next time."
"You're really going to do this again? No way, no way! I surrender!"
Special forces missions were usually escort, reconnaissance, or raids, but Rood and Dale stood out most in frontal battles. When Rood struck sharply, Dale would deflect incoming attacks within Rood's range and counter. The more they trained together, the more attention they drew for their strength in open combat.
Little by little, people began gathering around the once-prickly Rood. The sight of him inspired the previously listless soldiers, and it became something of a trend for them to train in their spare time. Even so, the only one who stayed closest to Rood's side was Dale.
But as with every battlefield, no one stays together forever.
"Dale! Watch out!"
The moment the pseudo-knight's iron mace swung toward Dale's head—
Clang!
Rood blocked it.
"So it's you two. The mad dog and his dog trainer."
"Rood! He's a pseudo-knight! Run!"
Rood put strength into his arm, but the mace wouldn't budge. The gap between them was huge, and he'd already spent too much energy sweeping across the battlefield.
"Dale, get out of here. I'll take care of this boar."
"Rood!"
Rood fought back with strength and combat sense that didn't lose out much even against a pseudo-knight. It was on the one hundred and first clash of blades.
Crack!
Rood's sword blade snapped, and the mace slammed into his shoulder.
"Ugh!"
"Hah, not bad for a whelp like you to last this long against me. But it's over now. Mad dogs need to be beaten to death!"
'Is this the end?'
Stab!
A sword burst out from the boar's chest.
"Guh! How dare you!"
In the pseudo-knight's final struggle, he swung his mace at the head of the person who had stabbed him from behind before collapsing.
"Waaaah! The pseudo-knight has fallen!"
Rood felt no emotion at those shouts.
"Get up, Dale. You… you took down a pseudo-knight… Get up, I said."
The sound of the horn signaling the end of battle. The sound of spears and arrows piercing the backs of enemies fleeing in the certainty of defeat. Through all those sounds, Rood could only look at Dale's fallen face. The last expression on Dale's face—simply one of surprise—never left Rood's memory.
'Everyone dies when their time comes.'
It was something Dale had said as casually as eating. Rood wanted to ask him—after talking so much about how everyone dies when their time comes, why did you look so surprised?
Rood slowly closed Dale's eyes.
Tap tap tap!
At the unfamiliar sound, Rood lifted his head and strode quickly toward the window.
Tap!
The sound came from above the window, from the roof. When he checked beside the window, he saw several human shadows passing along the mansion's outer wall.
Rood instinctively knew.
'Assassins!'
Rood quickly opened his door and then the door to the study. No one was there.
'Where is Isabelle's bedroom?'
First, Rood grabbed one of the thick books stacked on the desk and hurled it at the window.
Crash!
Then he began opening every door, searching for Isabelle's bedroom. The sound of breaking glass caused lights to come on downstairs. It was a deliberate move to wake the other servants and make the assassins feel pressed for time.
He opened door after door, but nowhere did he find a room that looked like a bedroom.
"It's an attack!"
At Rood's shout, the first floor erupted into chaos.
"An attack?"
"Lady Isabelle!"
"Where is Head Butler Pete?"
Rood opened every door on the opposite corridor but still couldn't find the bedroom.
'Where? Where the hell is it?!'
Thud thud!
Rood listened to the footsteps coming from above.
'Not here. It was one of the rooms in the corridor where I was.'
Following the sound of footsteps on the roof, Rood stopped in front of one door. Upon closer inspection, the handle was shaped like a rabbit.
He flung the door open. An assassin was raising a dagger high, about to plunge it into the sleeping Isabelle.
"It's over!"
Stab!
"Aaaaaagh!"
Rood hurled the sword from his waist, striking the assassin's arm, then charged forward.
Thud!
Rood leaped over the bed, delivered a side kick to the assassin, pulled the sword free from the man's arm, and wiped it clean.
"Wh-who are you?!"
"Why are trash like you even asking?"
"Wh-what's going on?"
Rood scooped up the rubbing-eyed Isabelle with one arm.
"Huh?"
"Don't let them escape!"
The assassins had already entered through other windows and were blocking the bedroom door.
"I don't know who you are, but both of you die!"
The assassins' daggers rained down from every direction.
"Just a moment."
"Kyaa?!"
Rood supported Isabelle's backside with one hand, held her close, and leaped into the air. Spinning his body, he deflected every flying dagger.
"H-how…?"
"If you won't come, I'll go to you."
Slash! Clang! Slice!
Rood swiftly cut down the two assassins standing by the window. Since many more were already forming up at the door, he had to take down the smaller groups first.
"Isn't dragging this out more disadvantageous for you? You pathetic idiots who don't even know the basics."
Rood pointed his sword at the assassins.
"Come on, you worthless scum. I'll kill you all at once."