Chapter 125
Chapter 125
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: 40. I'll Go Raise Some Hell and Be Back (1)
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Arwen took the lead.
Everyone tried to dissuade her. She had only just woven her fourth ring, and the bonds between them weren't firm yet. This was a time when she should avoid expending energy outward as much as possible.
But Arwen was resolute.
"What's the point of learning a sword you can't use when you need it?" was her response.
The Iron Lions sighed at her determination and stepped back.
"Arwen."
I called her name, sidling up close. She turned to look at me.
"Don't push yourself too hard."
Arwen flashed a small smile and pulled down her face veil.
Clank.
"Then I'll head out first."
With that, she gripped her mounted longsword and rode ahead.
Roooar.
A massive surge of energy began to whirl around her.
"It's a Paladin!"
The Empire's knights, who had been closing in, scattered.
But before they could create enough distance, the master's authority descended.
Boom!
A dozen or so horses had their legs severed by the aura blade and toppled over.
"Hah!"
The nimble knights leaped from their mounts in unison, avoiding the falls.
They might have escaped the dismounts, but that didn't mean they could dodge the Iron Lions' follow-up attacks.
Bang! Bang!
Struck by the Iron Lions' swords mid-air with nowhere to plant their feet, the Empire's knights tumbled messily to the ground.
But none of them were truly dead.
Partly because Arwen's aura blade had targeted the mounts, not the riders, and partly because the Iron Lions' strikes were more blunt impacts than lethal cuts.
We hadn't exchanged words, but everyone knew.
This was just a spar with the White Sister Knights, who had come for payback. To avoid the Empire's absurd complaints, we had to leave some leeway.
But spars are like that.
Someone could get unlucky and die to a blind swing, or suffer severed limbs, ruptured mana circuits, or shattered mana cores in some freak accident.
And if those unlucky knights happened to be among the White Sister Knight Order's top talents,
promising young knights with recognized potential and bright futures,
and if they all just so happened to have ties to me,
well, that was still just an unfortunate "accident."
Truly.
* * *
Intimidated by Arwen's prowess and the Iron Lions' ferocious momentum, the White Sister Knights quickly lost their will to fight and retreated.
Arwen had deliberately hamstrung their warhorses, so the chances of them pursuing us again later were slim.
Still, we couldn't let our guard down.
They probably hadn't charged in believing they could actually beat us.
They knew we had knights who had bested Paladins.
My guess was that the White Sister Knights' goal had been to buy time until another knight order arrived prepared.
And they'd succeeded to some extent.
The actual clash with them hadn't lasted long, but a fight was still a fight.
The knights needed rest after swinging their blades under extreme tension, and the horses had burned more energy than necessary in the heat of battle. In the end, we halted for the night instead of pushing on through the dark.
"I never imagined the Emperor would seek revenge in such a petty way."
As the Iron Lions settled in for a quick sleep to prepare for tomorrow, Shiorin approached and said to me.
Petty and underhanded, she called it.
But that unbefitting pettiness for a great power was the most imperial way of all.
It had always been like that.
The Empire would sometimes cede territory with ridiculous ease when enemies pressed in relentlessly.
It happened in the war with the greenskins, and in the war with the Kingdom four centuries ago.
But did that land truly become the enemy's? No.
The Empire always had the last laugh.
That's why the saying existed:
Winning battles against the Empire's armies isn't hard, but winning wars against the Empire is exceedingly difficult.
Because the Empire preferred luring surging foes deep inside and wearing them down, rather than meeting them head-on.
The Empire's enemies had to be most wary when the foe retreated.
"Easy to enter, hard to leave. That's the Empire."
Just like our current situation.
"Things were great marching triumphantly toward the capital. But the real trial starts now."
Tomorrow would be tougher than today, and the day after even tougher than tomorrow.
Shiorin's face darkened at my warning-not-quite-a-warning.
"If we hadn't beaten those imperial knights, could we have avoided this situation?"
I shook my head at his question.
"It would've been much the same."
Shiorin sighed and returned to his spot.
From his expression, he seemed to regret what we'd done in the Empire.
Maybe he was wondering if hiding his abilities before the Emperor had sparked suspicion.
It was a reasonable thought, but not the truth.
I knew the Burgundy temperament well.
That's why I firmly believed the facade I'd shown the Emperor was the best approach.
By doing nothing and showing nothing, it ended as mere suspicion.
Had I flaunted meager skills or tried some shallow ploy to disguise myself, I never would've escaped his wrath.
I was certain the Emperor had known of my existence long before.
And he'd been agonizing over it.
Weighing Marquis Montpellier's reports against the rumors.
The Burgundys I knew were a clan that endlessly sought and pondered answers to problems, but never hesitated once they'd found them.
That's why I'd revealed my presence to the Emperor, then hidden my true colors again.
To keep him from deciding on me before I even realized it.
To multiply the doubts in that suspicious mind of his.
That way, I could buy time.
But the Emperor apparently didn't want to agonize for long.
Not if he was sending men even in the dead of night.
I scanned our surroundings.
And couldn't help but chuckle.
"Ahh."
"Snore."
The knights were mumbling in their sleep, tossing and turning, yet every one of them clutched their swords.
"Sleep without worrying."
I muttered as if to myself, and they quietly released their grips.
I signaled to Yorden and the Rangers on watch.
Kill them?
I nodded at Yorden's lip-formed question.
Unlike the White Sister Knights who'd come under the pretext of a duel, these were unofficial guests.
So we'd treat them unofficially.
Mmph.
I clamped a hand over the mouth of an intruder lurking in the shadows, scouting our camp, and slit his throat.
Gurgle.
The intruder went limp with a stifled groan.
I prowled the darkness for more. And dispatched each one I found silently.
There weren't many intruders.
Fifteen prowling near the camp, and five more watching from farther out.
The near fifteen fell to me and the sword prodigies, while the distant five were handled by Yorden and the Rangers.
Back at camp, everyone was deep in sleep.
Told them not to worry, and they'd actually conked out.
Well, these were the thick-skinned types who snored away even with orcs swarming below the walls.
What was there to say?
* * *
As soon as dawn broke, I split the group.
"The enemies are after me and the knights, not the infantry."
The Kingdom's infantry had no reason to trail us knights and suffer.
I left them in Yorden's charge.
"Get every one back to the Kingdom without a single straggler."
"You got it. No question."
I had no doubt Yorden would lead the Kingdom infantry safely home.
His reckless personality aside, his pathfinding skills were the best in the North—no, the Kingdom.
Still, I cautioned him to be careful, and he shot back to worry about my own path.
"Without Your Highness, Ranger Yorden with his keen eyes has no reason to tread the thorny path."
I grinned at his joking tone—"Sure you will"—and set off with the knights.
"Can't disagree with that foul-mouthed Ranger this time. Meeting Your Highness in my twilight years—what hardships."
That was grizzled old Nicolo's grumble. He was likely to be detained given the number of enemies and his knowledge.
But despite his words, Nicolo looked oddly excited.
Seemed late-life adventures suited him.
After all, this was the eccentric who'd insisted on staying till the end to record everything right before Winter Castle fell, despite multiple chances to flee.
Probably planning to scribble some inscrutable notes again.
I glanced at old Nicolo and took position at the column's head.
"Let's go!"
* * *
Time had flown since the First Prince left the Kingdom.
He'd promised to return before his eighteenth coming-of-age ceremony, but no letters came, and all rumors were dire.
Imperial knights vowing revenge on the prince and delegation for offending them, many knights targeting the group to restore honor.
Not a single piece of good news.
But up to then, no one in Winter Castle truly worried about the First Prince.
"What kind of man is His Highness? He survived the Warlord's war."
"Exactly. If he were the type to falter, he would've by now. Mark my words, he'll live to see his great-grandkids and die of old age. Assuming he marries, of course."
Veteran Rangers and knights who'd fought alongside him in the North's war trusted in his return without doubt.
Some even looked forward to his tales of imperial adventure.
Knights targeting the delegation? Such things weren't even on their radar.
Even Winter Castle's folk began to waver as the promised coming-of-age date loomed.
Rumors from the provinces below claimed the First Prince had met misfortune.
The prince, true to form, picked fights with imperial knights, dooming the innocent delegation. It had already perished namelessly in some wild hills.
Those grim rumors reached the North, and another month passed.
The prince still hadn't returned, and even the sporadic imperial knight rumors dried up.
Up to then, it was just anxiety and worry.
Then one rumor arrived.
Ballerhard's Rangers and soldiers who'd followed the prince to the Empire had crossed the southern border and reached the capital.
Winter Castle's lord, Vincent Ballerhard, immediately contacted the capital via communication orb.
But the voice from the orb wasn't the prince's as hoped.
『His Highness has not returned.』
The Empire's reply: the prince had parted ways with the soldiers, and news had cut off after.
It hit like thunder from a clear sky.
"He's surely delayed shaking off imperial knights."
Vincent Ballerhard forced nonchalance, focusing on duties while awaiting the prince's return.
More time passed.
Weeks past the promised ceremony.
No word of return.
"Guess I'll have to go to the capital myself."
Vincent felt he couldn't just wait anymore.
But unlike his thoughts, he couldn't leave Winter Castle.
Newly arrived dwarves needed handling, early settlers building the magic tower required oversight. Impending winter meant blocking mountain monsters heading south.
And above all, soothing the North's wavering lords.
Their unity had formed around the First Prince; his long absence cracked it naturally.
Even the Silver Fox Mercenaries, who'd stayed post-war via some deal with the prince, showed signs of leaving.
They'd seemed idle with him there, but his absence made the void obvious.
Half a year after his news cut off, the entire North began to creak.