Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: 59. Requiem for Her (4)
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The Empire's army had withdrawn.
Not a temporary retreat in preparation for tomorrow's siege, but a complete pullback.
"They came as they pleased, but they won't leave so easily."
I had no intention of just watching the Empire's forces, who had been gleefully pounding at the castle walls for over two weeks, pack up and saunter off after doing whatever they came for.
"Assemble the knights."
"They're already gathered at the gates, awaiting Your Highness."
The garrison commander pointed toward the gates.
Spear cavalrymen clad in black plate armor, spears held high, had assembled before the gates. My horse stood at the very front, in the prime spot the Ballerhard knights called the "holy ground."
Linger too long, and I'd catch hell for it.
"Open the gates!"
Too impatient to even fully descend the walls, I shouted the order. The garrison commander promptly signaled to raise them.
With the grinding noise of the gates rising behind me, I swiftly joined the Black Spear Cavalry.
"We were just about to head out without you, since you were taking so long."
Before my rear even settled in the stirrups, the one-eyed cavalry commander grumbled at my tardiness.
"Let's go!"
I spurred my horse forward without a word.
"Charge!"
Kuean led the hundred Black Spear Cavalrymen after me.
Far off, the retreating Empire army came into view.
Though they were withdrawing after failing their siege, their numbers still surpassed our castle's defenders.
Perhaps because of that, even in flight, they showed none of the frantic desperation typical of routed troops.
Their morale might have been in the gutter from failing their objective, but they maintained their formation and order even as they retreated.
It was a sight I didn't care for.
Routed soldiers should scatter like frightened beasts, tails between their legs.
I drew every ounce of mana from my heart.
The pent-up aura and presence I'd been holding back unleashed in an instant.
Whooooosh.
The air swirled violently. My presence spread outward, finally reaching the enemy's rear.
The Empire soldiers at the back turned to look.
I ignited flames along my sword's edge for all to see and bellowed,
"Charge!"
Thud thud thud thud thud.
The pounding of a hundred hooves shook the plains.
The Empire troops' pale faces were crystal clear. Their panicked screams and shouts rang as vividly as if they were right beside us.
"The enemy is barely a handful! Rear ranks, about-face and engage—the rest, double time!"
An Empire officer roared at the top of his lungs. But not a single soldier in the rear turned.
They even shoved their comrades ahead to run faster.
It was only natural.
A swordmaster's fully unleashed aura was no less terrifying than a natural disaster. No doubt the Empire grunts felt a massive tidal wave or landslide bearing down on their backs.
No amount of prodding from those without aura would reach their ears.
The chaos spread like a plague—plain as day.
The terror from the rear infected even those holding the line at the front.
The orderly ranks quickly devolved into a tangled mess. Discipline vanished. They looked like wild beasts fleeing a forest fire.
"Out of the way!"
"Uwaaaah!"
Trampling and shoving allies in their desperation to survive—I smiled in satisfaction at the sight.
Now they finally looked like proper routed soldiers.
And routed soldiers had futures suited to them.
Boom!
I plunged into their midst.
My sword brimmed with sword-light, my mouth summoning their doom.
I showed them with my entire body that their future held only despair.
"Trample the enemy!"
"Leave not a single one alive!"
The Black Spear Cavalry that followed crushed them, their death rattles exploding from all sides.
"Kwaaack!"
"Spare me!"
Terrified sheep bleated in horror,
"For Ballerhard!"
"Victory to Your Highness!"
While the black wolves of the cavalry howled ferociously.
*
When the battle ended, of the near ten thousand enemies, only a few hundred had escaped with their lives.
The fields were carpeted in corpses.
Among that multitude, those slain by sword or spear were less than a quarter.
The rest had all been trampled to death by their own in the peak of the chaos.
This was because I'd deliberately flared my aura to terrify them into blind panic, and because the Black Spear Cavalry had herded them expertly from outside, like drovers.
The Empire army, once nearly ten thousand strong, was thus shoved about, slaughtered by their own, and all but annihilated.
"Your Highness."
Kuean called quietly to me as he shook blood from his spear.
Instead of answering, I yanked the Empire's gaudily planted standard from a pile of corpses and shouted,
"We have won!"
"Woooah!"
The cavalrymen roared in victory. Cheers erupted from the distant castle as well.
"Return."
Clutching the Empire's standard, I wheeled my horse around.
"Long live Crown Prince Your Highness!"
"Long live the kingdom!"
The soldiers' cheers continued unabated as we passed fully through the gates.
I raised my hand silently. The cheers died as if by magic.
"I salute your valiant efforts, and I dare say this:"
The soldiers and knights looked to me.
The survivors' joy, the elation of those who had held and triumphed.
"You are the heroes who saved the nation! You are the guardian spirits of the kingdom!"
"Waaaaaaaaah!"
The boiling emotions erupted in a cheer that swept the castle.
I gazed at the ecstatic soldiers, then quietly instructed the garrison commander.
Distribute supplies so the men could enjoy their victor's rights for the day.
Fortunately, the Empire had left plenty of unrecovered provisions—enough for the soldiers to forget war's hardships and revel in victory for a day.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"We are simply grateful for Your Highness's mercy."
Receiving ample food and drink for the first time in ages, the soldiers' hearts swelled too. They bowed in thanks as I passed.
"Your Highness saved my life. Had you not arrived, I'd be a corpse by now."
"Did I? I've saved so many I can't recall. No time to speak of favors from a savior who doesn't remember—eat and enjoy. Days like this don't come every day."
I joked or praised them with a smile each time.
As I mingled among the soldiers, a forgotten fact suddenly resurfaced.
"Yorden!"
"Y-Yes? Yes!"
A veteran ranger gnawing on a freshly roasted horse leg from afar came scurrying over.
"Where's Malkoi?"
"Pork-ass, horse-ass—I saw him on the walls just a bit ago..."
"Find him and bring him."
"Right now? Of all times?"
"Should I go myself?"
Yorden's jaw dropped a good foot.
Always tasks at moments like this. Can't let a man rest in peace. What did I ever do to deserve this?
The ranger grumbled nonstop.
"Hurry up."
"A-Alright, going. I'm going."
The shuffling ranger returned.
"Found him staring blankly on the walls."
I waved off Yorden's muttering about loitering after the battle was long over.
"Fine, off with you."
"Yessir. If you've got more tasks, call someone else this time. Plenty of idlers around."
His words sounded to me like an invitation for more orders, but I didn't show it.
A spanked ranger captain wasn't important right now.
"Malkoi."
At my call, Malkoi flinched and looked up from his bowed head.
Seeing his face caked in blood, sweat, and dirt, I chuckled.
"Now you finally look like you belong on a battlefield."
Malkoi touched his face gingerly, oblivious to his state.
"Follow me."
I headed toward the slouched Yorden in the distance.
"Hand over one of those hidden bottles."
"Asking frontline officers for booze in a wartime fortress?"
"So you don't have any?"
The ranger rolled his bulging eyes.
"If I find more..."
Before I finished, Yorden pulled a bottle from his cloak and handed it over.
"Really, truly, this is the last one."
His unnecessary emphasis suggested more were hidden.
"If you're drinking, do it where others won't see. Cavalrymen especially won't let it slide."
"Would I? I even scouted a spot—planned to head there tonight..."
Yorden clapped a hand over his mouth. Nearby veterans shook their heads.
I silently extended my hand.
"Really, truly, truly the last. Every ranger carries one for body warmth in emergencies."
"So all you veterans have them stashed."
The veterans shot up, cursing and kicking Yorden.
"Damn it! A company commander like you!"
"That loose tongue won't fix till you're dead!"
"Snitches get stitches!"
While the rangers enjoyed their camaraderie, I dragged the dazed Malkoi to a quiet spot.
I found a secluded outer area and plopped onto a protruding ledge.
Then uncorked one of the two bottles from Yorden.
Savoring the sharp aroma, I chugged.
Far better than soldiers' swill—not cheap rotgut.
"Damn thief. Already swiped one from the Empire's supplies."
Impressed by Yorden's resourcefulness, I passed the bottle to Malkoi standing blankly before me.
He took it without refusal, clamped the neck in his mouth, and tilted back.
Gulp gulp.
Half the bottle vanished in seconds; his face flushed red.
With color returning, he looked much better.
"So, what do you think now? Still unchanged?"
My blunt question made Malkoi squint at me.
"War is ugly, and all who fight in it are the same."
Malkoi said nothing.
I didn't press. Silently, I snatched the bottle and downed more.
"Kuh. Damn good stuff. Do Empire folk drink this even in war? Wealthy nation has its perks."
Off-topic, but I was genuinely awed by the Empire's reserves.
But this gathering wasn't for booze, so back to the point.
"I knew a few who spouted that drivel before—war's ugly, soldiers are perpetrators."
When the kingdom first settled this land, such voices rose.
"The highborn cloak their greed in lofty ideals, driving the living to death—that's war."
While kingdom knights and soldiers bled against the Empire's invasion, safe rear scholars pontificated as if enlightened.
"But none who'd actually seen a battlefield."
Malkoi's lips twitched, then closed.
I knew what he'd almost said.
"War's brutality? True. Battlefields strip humanity away; war leaves only grief, wounds, and grudges."
War was a monster sustained by the living; what remained after was sorrow.
"But some things are unavoidable. War's one."
Malkoi frowned at me. His gaze seemed to see an irresponsible man or a hypocrite justifying war.
I snorted at the accusatory look.
I asked him.
Who started this war, the kingdom? Do our soldiers look like war maniacs?
Malkoi stayed silent.
He knew.
The kingdom hadn't started it.
The ugly war he decried was our only way to defend this land.
"If the Leonberger royals hadn't declared independence, no war."
Malkoi finally squeezed out.
Not true rebuttal—more stubborn habit.
"So submit, get trampled, live like that? Fewer deaths that way—just endure?"
I asked.
What's the difference from beasts if merely surviving?
"Kings as kings, nobles as nobles. Leonbergers as Leonbergers. That's all we wanted."
"Wasn't that just what the Leonberger royals and a few nobles desired?"
I clicked my tongue.
Apparently, two weeks on the walls wasn't enough.
He needed more grinding.