Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: That Juicy Nape of Yours (4)
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As soon as we reached the gate, I gave a signal with my eyes to Ain, who was beside me.
“Wave the torch. The enemy’s about to charge in.”
I said that, but deep down, I was hoping those morons would stay drunk and never make it to the gate. But it seemed Baron Seik had made good use of the ‘guard shift rotation’ system, even in a situation where everyone was passed out from booze... “Wha? Hey! Fuck! Old Man Jang is dead! Enemy! The enemy’s attacking!”
A panicked, terrified shout echoed from atop the walls. Damn it, if only they’d kept chugging booze until our whole mercenary company assembled at the gate, oblivious to everything. But no, they had to notice. Ah, but these idiots would just die inside the fort if they caught on too late. “Everyone, gather up! Hold the line with everything you’ve got until Captain Dalton brings the main force! Survive this, and I’ll make sure you get a fat cut of the spoils!”
Karin and the others responded to my words. “I gave up on dying easy after joining the mercenaries.”
“I’m counting on you, Martin.”
“What’s there to fear from these booze-soaked bastards?”
Everyone sounded gung-ho, but if the worst happened, we’d be facing over 200 enemies with just five of us for a while. Maybe that’s why, despite their tough talk, I could see their shoulders trembling. I wasn’t drenched in cold sweat myself, but my palms were slick with tension. ‘Can we pull this off?’ As I pondered that for a moment, I heard the higher-ups inside the fort yelling in a frenzy. “Son of a bitch! Hurry and get to battle stations! If not, urk, we’re all dead!”
“St-stop drinking! It’s, it’s an enemy ambush!”
“Baron Seik was right! Fuck! Everyone, move!”
Among the barking orders, there was one sober voice, so it seemed this fort’s commander, Baron Seik, had his head somewhat on straight. That realization made it all the more satisfying. Knowing full well, yet still falling for my trap like that, you dumb fuck. “I guaranteed Captain Dalton these idiots would be shitfaced and out of it tonight, so I suggested the ambush. Look at them—spot on. Isn’t it hilarious?”
Among the knights, some seemed prepared for an ambush or the type to drink in moderation... They weren’t in armor, but their gait and posture were steady as ever. “You filthy rat-like mercenaries! I’ll personally lop off every one of your heads and mount them on spears!”
But the mercenaries, regulars, and peasant soldiers alike seemed to have drowned the war’s fatigue and horrors in excessive drink. They were tripping over each other and puking just running here with weapons in hand. “Urk, fuck... I’m gonna die... urk...”
Some had come with swords to fight us, but a few idiots couldn’t even draw from the sheath, swinging at air. “Sw-sword won’t come out...?”
Still, most shook off the booze at the gravity of an enemy ambush. Even if their steps wobbled, they straightened their backs and advanced toward us in fighting stances. “Damn it... kill those bastards!”
“Interrupting our drinks? Who does that?”
“Fuck, I was this close with Anna! You ruined it! I won’t let you off!”
Interrupting their drinks was one thing, but breaking up what was almost a score with this Anna chick? I felt a tiny bit guilty hearing that. So I’d have to send them off quick, free of worldly regrets. ‘In this painful world, granting them a swift end is a mercy not just anyone can provide.’ “These morons knew we were coming but couldn’t sober up enough to think straight. Crazy bastards!”
“Even hundreds charging like that are nothing.”
“Fuck, our platoon leader’s got a brain that turns like clockwork. Total respect.”
If the ones pouring out were sober, it’d be different, but half-mad drunks? Everyone figured we could handle it. With just our platoon, we could hold long enough. And right on cue, Lucia and the platoon members came running up, tails wagging. “Platoon Leader, are we late? Sorry. We ran as soon as we saw the signal.”
Late my ass—they timed it perfectly. “Nah, perfect timing.”
She smiled and wagged her tail faster. I’d thought it before, but in moments like this, she didn’t seem like a foxgirl—more like an adorable dog super loyal to me. Seeing that, I couldn’t help imagining her later wearing a dog collar, calling me ‘Master’... I shook my head hard to banish the lewd thoughts and issued firm orders. “Lucia, hit those guys with your strongest spell.”
“Yes, Platoon Leader.”
Lucia aimed the outrageously expensive staff I’d gifted her at the enemy and began chanting. "Grant me the fire to burn the foes before me, Fireball!" ⟨ Fireball ⟩
As the chant ended, a blue fireball shot from Lucia’s staff.
The ones hit dead-on by the scorching blue flames let out agonized death cries before turning to ash in an instant.
A few, their drunken emotions raw, collapsed at the sight.
“Sp-spare me!”
“I don’t wanna die! Not before I get back home and fuck Emily, damn it!”
“Mommy, Mommy...”
Tsk tsk, such honest little shits when it comes to fear. I like that. ‘No need to fear death once you’re dead, so I’ll send you all off.’ “Lucia, fall back and signal now. Karin, you cover from behind—put arrows through the enemy knights and any high-ranking bastards’ necks.”
“Leave it to me.”
“Alright, boys, time to harvest necks from these drunk fucks. Note: anyone in our platoon who doesn’t bag at least one gets a private word with me later, so do your best.”
I wouldn’t beat them or pull any camp bullshit. Just show them how much guerrilla calisthenics boosts stamina and attack power. “Fuck, isn’t that too harsh?”
“Then bag some necks if you don’t wanna. Can’t even take a drunk’s head?”
“Nah, we can.”
The staggering drunks gripped their weapons and surged forward like waves. “D-die, you trash!”
“Why crash our drinks and make shit hard?”
“Fuck, you sneaky panty bastards!”
Their faces had shaken off the booze at the news of our attack, but their bodies lagged behind. Flailing maces and swords wildly off-balance. ‘Doing snake tricks with maces and swords or what?’ “We’re just trying to eat too, assholes.”
I lopped off their necks one by one with my sword, freeing them from fear’s torment. The guys beside me joined in, swinging away. “Die and find peace!”
“Wanna live? Step aside!”
“Just die already!”
Trained by my guerrilla drills and manuals, they weren’t flying aces, but staggering drunks flailing weapons posed no real threat. Even pressed by numbers, they held firm, steadily cracking skulls as we advanced. Outmatched by one measly platoon despite bringing 200, they panicked. “Out of the way! Sir Apokape will slaughter these cowardly mercenaries and show Baron Seik how mighty his army is!”
Sir Apokape glared at me and strode forward imperiously, while Baron Seik’s soldiers watched with hopeful eyes. Then a arrow’s whistle grazed my ear. A gentle breeze, but with storm-like force—Karin’s shot for sure. “Gurk, kuhk...”
The blustering Apokape couldn’t dodge the swift arrow and clutched his throat as he fell. “Dumb fuck, strutting like you wanna die quick. Granted your wish!”
The knight’s instant fall plunged the drunk soldiers into immobilizing terror. “F-fuck...”
“Sir Apokape taken out by one arrow...”
Seizing the momentum, I hacked wildly at them. Necks, legs, waists, torsos—no mercy, helping the drunks to the afterlife... ‘They’ll be happy once dead.’ Tossing any guilt to some other prick, I knifed away like a dedicated worker when cheers erupted behind me. “Captain Dalton! Captain Dalton’s here!”
Our platoon cleared a path for him. “Martin, you crazy son of a bitch! You’re the best!”
Dalton slapped my back hard, then charged in, slashing foes left and right. “Surrender if you don’t wanna die! You’re surrounded!”
A man who seemed Baron Seik appeared, protesting... But the walls already flew White Beard Mercenary Corps banners, lined with archers and mages. “Surrender if you don’t wanna die!”
Baring his teeth, Baron Seik dropped his weapon to the ground. “Escort him politely, our generous mark.”
“Yes, Captain Dalton.”