Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Hostage
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"Fuck! Run!"
"The commander abandoned us! The enemy's cavalry will charge soon!"
I could see how the battle was unfolding because I was much taller than the others, but the mercenaries couldn't.
With arrows raining from the sky and their vision completely blocked by the surrounding troops, the mercenaries had no choice but to judge the situation from the sounds and what was right in front of them. Their morale plummeted.
In the end, a few mercenaries in the center ignored the formation and shoved their comrades aside. In that instant, the formation lost all meaning.
"Run!"
"We're all gonna die!"
"You fucking idiots! Only a few have died! Hold your positions! If we scatter now, we're all dead!"
I yelled in frustration, but the formation, which had started crumbling like dominoes, collapsed even faster.
"Damn it..."
In past wars, most casualties happened right after the formation broke. When it collapsed in an instant, men were trampled and slaughtered by the enemy, getting utterly smashed.
Sticking it out here would mean dying like a dog for me too. But could I escape? With the enemy's forces mostly intact?
"Bro! Let's bolt! We're screwed!"
Cutter's words snapped me back to reality, and I bolted straight to the rear without thinking. Even in the chaos, I figured heading to the still-solid center and right flanks' rear was the best bet. But...
"Why the hell are those bastards chasing us?!"
The elf cavalry, who should have been reinforcing their main force to shake our center and right after our left collapsed, were madly pursuing us instead.
"Argh!"
They hunted the fleeing mercenaries like prey, shooting arrows or slashing at unprotected backs as they rode by. At this rate, we couldn't even run—we'd all be slaughtered. We'd already strayed far from the main body. I yelled urgently.
"All you bastards still alive, gather here! If you run now, those elf pricks will cut you down!"
Maybe because we'd reached a quieter spot, my voice boomed around us. As I said, how far could we get on foot from mounted pursuers?
They must have realized it too—the mercenaries, scattering like beasts fleeing a wildfire, hurriedly clustered around me. Though their numbers had dwindled sharply.
I snatched a spear from one of the nearby mercenaries. Even a small group of elves would have a leader... I didn't know their command structure, but man or beast, smashing the head scatters the rest.
Neigh-!
As more mercenaries gathered around me, the elves spotted us and wheeled their horses. They probably wanted to nip us in the bud before we grew troublesome. But that was exactly what I wanted.
My target: the lead elf with feathers in his helmet. Spoiled by how easily the mercenaries crumbled, or underestimating us without bows, they charged with their leader at the front, nocking arrows.
Distance: about 400 meters. As I gripped the spear to throw, I took calm, deep breaths. The others would call it a lie, but I'd once speared game at this range.
So I aimed even more carefully at the onrushing elf. 400m... 350m... The distance closed with the horse's speed, and finally, he nocked his arrow.
Thud!
A few running steps built momentum, my flexible waist and fully cocked arm thrusting the spear forward in one motion. A perfect javelin throw, honed from countless practices. The spear whistled away, spinning gracefully before shrinking to a dot.
"Eowkdsla!"
The moment the leader, arrow nocked and ready to loose, panicked and pulled back his bow, I noticed the spear's trajectory veer slightly and charged straight at him.
Neigh-!
My spear missed him narrowly, plunging into his horse's heart instead. The horse tumbled forward, hurling its rider—the leader—to the ground.
"Grab that bastard!"
"Woooah!"
I'd prefer him dead, but elves born and bred on horseback wouldn't die from a fall. Right now, we needed to capture the tumbled leader. At least kill him if we could!
Elves rushed in panic to protect their leader; mercenaries charged after me blindly. I arrived first. Up close, the pretty elf leader staggered from the impact but drew his sword with feral intensity.
"Dl ejfjdns wprnrdml ehowlrk!"
"What the fuck are you saying?! Speak the continental tongue!"
Clang!
I don't know how to swing a sword properly. So my swing was just brute force and weight—like wielding a club.
But the elf wasn't in his right mind either; instead of parrying or dodging, he met my blade head-on.
A two-meter-long, ten-kilo monstrosity of a sword crashed into him. The elf dropped his weapon and crumpled.
"Aak! Dl ejfjdns shadl!"
He glared murderously from the dirt, screaming something that grated a bit, but I grabbed him by the collar without killing him.
He had too much value alive. Commands like "betray your count" were a stretch, but enough to pull them from the fight.
"Rmqnsdmf djEjgrp gkf todrkrdlsi!"
As expected, capturing the leader made the late-arriving mounted elves circle me in panic. As mercenaries hurriedly surrounded me, the elves grew desperate and sheathed their weapons.
"Rmqnsdl snrntlswnf dkfrh! Ekdwkd vnfdjemfufk!"
"Drop your weapons! If you don't want your boss dead!"
"Sksms rhoscksgek! Dlshadmf wnrdufk!"
Clang!
The elf in my grip yelled something, but the others exchanged glances and dropped their swords and bows. Then they dismounted and bowed their heads.
"GkdqhrgkrpTek. Qnel rmqnsdmf shgdkekdh."
I couldn't understand the words, but I got the gist: they'd surrender if we guaranteed their safety.
I ordered the mercenaries to bind them. Savages like these? Captured prisoners meant certain execution or slavery. Not my problem.
"All tied up!"
Once the elves were fully bound, the mercenaries laughed and kicked them or smacked their heads. I stopped them—not to protect the elves, but because I planned to rally the mercenaries and head back to the battlefield.
The formation hadn't collapsed long ago, so the main body probably hadn't routed yet. Maybe on the brink, but if we returned before the enemy's left enveloped and smashed it, victory was in reach. We could hit the complacent foes hard.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"We can just run away—why go back?"
But most mercenaries were against it. Returning meant only defeat and execution as prisoners, they shook their heads. As I predicted, though, now was the perfect moment to strike back.
"You cowards! After all this suffering, you gonna run without pay?! If we flee like this, no city will welcome us—we'll wander forever!"
"......"
"But that's better than dying if we go back!"
A voice piped up, but I didn't budge. This was the prime time to convince them—right after smashing and capturing the elves chasing us.
"Think about it! We haven't been gone from the field long! The main body won't collapse just because we're missing! Right now, the enemies we faced are shifting to envelop the main body! Know what that means?!"
The mercenaries had no reply. If they did, they wouldn't be mercenaries. The point: to envelop our main body, their main force had to wheel, exposing their rear.
Propping their rear, like ours, were conscripts. With us broken, that soft spot was wide open.