Chapter 75
Chapter 75
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Sterling Count
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The North was nothing but endless plains. No mountains in sight, even if you scoured the horizon with fresh eyes. If we ended up fighting elves in a place like this, the losses would far outweigh any gains for us.
"Hmm..."
"Sir! Did you spot something?"
I paused and let out a groan, prompting Sir Karon to rush over and ask. As if even I could have spotted anything in that short time.
"Not sure... Nothing yet, aside from signs that the army passed through here."
All I'd managed to find so far were the obvious tracks of an army marching by—tracks anyone with eyes could see. And overlaid on those, the marks left by cavalry. But as we rode on a bit farther, the cavalry tracks started to change.
The orderly hoofprints that had been so uniform until moments ago began scattering in all directions. The riders must have spotted something suspicious around here. Probably elves.
And those tracks veered off the path, heading elsewhere. My guess was the cavalry had caught sight of elves here and given chase.
"The tracks change around here. The cavalry started moving erratically."
Lenia and I followed the trail on horseback. How long did we ride? An hour or two of alternating between galloping and walking without rest. We'd veered far from the advance route Sterling Count's army had taken when we finally spotted the cavalry who'd ridden ahead first.
"Damn..."
In the middle of the plain lay several cavalry corpses, dumped haphazardly. Arrows pierced their bodies, but the fletching wasn't from any bird common in the Empire. Feathers I'd never seen before. Elf arrows, no doubt.
"Sir Lucas!"
Lenia called out to me as I dismounted to inspect the bodies. A faint anger simmered in her expression.
"Elves' doing?"
"Seems like it, my lady."
The horses of these dead riders had long since bolted. And these weren't all the bodies, either. Sometimes corpses got tangled in saddles or reins and dragged along. Back in the day, it wasn't uncommon to spot wild horse herds with corpses slung over their backs.
"Those filthy barbarians!"
Sir Karon snorted furiously and bellowed. He ranted about how the savages showed no respect, how leaving noble-born cavalry—even if only quasi-nobles—abandoned like this was an insult to the Empire.
"Urk..."
Meanwhile, Rahil, who'd dismounted to hold the horses' reins, took one look at the corpses and started dry-heaving. What kind of mercenary was a guy with such a weak stomach? I patted his back.
"If you're gonna puke, go do it over there."
"Ugh... Yes, sir..."
Rahil finally couldn't hold it in after my patting and bolted off into the distance, yanking off his helmet to spew something up.
Even in that state, he didn't fully remove the helmet. Made me wonder just how badly he wanted to hide his face. Not very manly, but he had the pretty features of a delicate young boy.
Then again, a face like that was probably a liability as a mercenary. If he'd been nobility, that refined look might have had its admirers, but in the cutthroat world of sellswords, rugged mugs had the edge. Parading around barefaced might invite every thug looking for a fight.
Hell, even with my build, I'd gotten into scraps a few times. If I'd looked like some blatant pro killer like the others, maybe that first tavern brawl never would've happened...
"They probably lured the cavalry here on purpose. Then attacked once they'd drawn them far enough."
In reality, the riders might've chased even farther. No cover anywhere on these plains, so it wasn't an ambush—they'd likely pulled them in close enough that escape was impossible before switching to offense.
The cavalry, mistaking the lure for flight, would've eagerly charged in to engage. And paid for it with their lives.
"These ones died fleeing too, so no need to go farther."
I meant that sincerely. How did I know they'd been running? Every arrow was buried in their backs. Foolish prey turned from hunters into the hunted.
"...We should head back and report this."
"Sir Ciarron! Sir Ashlara! Return first and inform them the cavalry was wiped out. And that the bodies are abandoned here."
"Understood!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
At Lenia's order, two knights peeled off. Her turquoise eyes gleamed sharply as she sent them away.
"Back now. With the cavalry lost like this, we need to confirm Sterling Count's fate as soon as possible. Even if he's dead, we have to secure the body."
We spurred our horses onward again. That's when I truly appreciated Merlin's prowess. While the other mounts panted in exhaustion, he pawed the ground restlessly, rear hooves scraping, as if begging to run more.
A dozen cycles of gallop and rest. By the time the sun had shifted west overhead, we spotted black smoke rising in the distance. There, amid pitifully broken house banners, countless corpses blanketed the field.
"Sterling Count's army..."
The thousands of soldier bodies vividly illustrated how they'd fought—and fallen. Over half clustered together in death, the rest with backs turned, slain while fleeing.
"Classic anti-cavalry formation."
Lenia narrowed her eyes at the scene.
She called it an anti-cavalry formation, but it was really just a spear wall—lining up pikes and waiting.
That might work against honest chargers like knights or cavalry, but against elves sniping arrows from afar? Nothing but targets.
"Whittling them down with mounted archers, then striking when morale cracked. Simple, but effective."
She'd experienced it firsthand, so she knew the tactic's danger. That's why she'd accepted my suggestion before Cligrove's army marched.
Issue shields to every soldier and boost the archer ratio.
"Elven scouts must be prowling nearby! Find Sterling Count's body!"
We'd confirmed the army's total annihilation—no escape. Next objective: recover the count's corpse. At Lenia's command, knights and cavalry dismounted and fanned out.
"Wonder if the campaign can succeed..."
Someone muttered while rummaging through bodies. Even assuming the elves carted off their dead, we found no sign of elven losses despite searching. The mood grew grim enough to unsettle even the knights.
"Found him!"
Fortunately, Sterling Count's body turned up quickly. He'd died sword in a death grip, fighting to the end. The cavalry chattered about how he'd perished gloriously for honor, but like any noble, he'd probably preferred living over dying nobly.
Anyway, the recovered count's body was wrapped in a cavalry cloak and slung over a horse. As I watched, a strange sensation prickled me. Killing intent. That familiar chill.
And then—
"Enemy!"
Across the vast plain, tiny shapes flickered into view. Others might not make them out, but my eyes pierced the distance. Elves.
"Enemy?"
"Elves heading this way! My lady!"
My sudden shout left Lenia, the knights, and cavalry blinking in confusion, but once they followed my pointing finger, they scrambled onto their mounts.
Even with poor eyesight, something moving out there on the plain was obvious. Knights and cavalry swiftly mounted, drawing weapons.
"My lady! What are your orders?"
Senior knight Sir Edington bellowed, sword at the ready. Despite standing amid Sterling Count's army's total annihilation at elven hands, not a trace of fear laced his voice.
This was knighthood. Even escaping Sarisa Count's trap, they'd cursed him fearlessly; faced with elves who'd vaporized an army, they readied to fight rather than flee.
"...Prepare to retreat. His Grace's orders weren't to engage the enemy, but to confirm Sterling Count's status."
Lenia decided on withdrawal swiftly. But one issue stood in the way.
"My lady! We can't take the count's body—it'll exhaust the horses before we reach the main force!"
The corpse on horseback. Dead weight hits heavier than the living, like the unconscious versus the alert. Add plate armor, and it's worse. No horse could haul a rider plus armored corpse over long distances without faltering.
But the knights rebelled en masse at the cavalryman's words. They couldn't abandon a count who'd fallen honorably in battle—scolding the cavalry for their lack of honor. True to form, they'd sooner die fighting here than leave the body.
Meanwhile, as they argued, the elves closed in. Now we could even count them—about a hundred. Time to decide.
"Rahil! Load the count's body on your horse! Then ride behind me!"
Merlin might handle the count and me together, but smaller, lighter Rahil should manage. Swap him to my mount, and the horse stamina issue resolves.
A cavalryman could just hold the reins for control, but after this, they could handle that much themselves.
The cavalry hurriedly transferred the count's body to Rahil's horse; the dismounted rider hopped on behind me. Merlin neighed in protest at the extra weight but showed no real strain.
"I'll take point!"
Lenia spurred her horse first; it shot forward like a bullet with a whinny. We hurriedly followed in her wake.