Chapter 84
Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: A Battle of Nothing but Wounds
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Your Grace! You must take cover!"
The aides urged the duke to flee at the sight of the golden cavalry charging through the center in a trance-like frenzy. But Duke Northmond bellowed at them with a look of disdain.
"If the commander flees, what soldier would fight with a calm heart?"
If the situation had truly turned hopeless, the duke might have heeded his aides and withdrawn. But in his eyes, the Empire still held the advantage. The center was crumbling solely because of those golden elves.
"We need to capture those damned bastards..."
As Northmond grumbled and pounded the table, a horn blared from no great distance—right from the rear lines, signaling a charge.
"What is this..."
He turned his head and spotted a group of knights charging toward the center. Leading them were two familiar faces.
"Lady Cligrove? Viscount Lucas?"
Bwooo—
Viscount Lucas was supposed to be holding the rear against the elves, and Lady Cligrove the front. Why were they charging from the rear toward the center? But such distractions vanished from his mind in an instant. That wasn't what mattered now.
"Sound the horn! Signal the center—a charge has begun!"
"Yes, Your Grace!"
At the duke's command, the main body's trumpeters unleashed a blast that echoed across the entire battlefield.
"A horn?"
Meanwhile, Decai paused to catch his breath amid the flock of Imperial soldiers he was carving through, hearing the horn from ahead.
"It sounds like the Empire's charge signal!"
"I know that! But why blow it now? Aren't their knights and medium cavalry pinned down by the centurions?!"
"Well..."
"Never mind! Whoever it is, we'll slaughter them! First, the duke's head..."
At that moment, the Imperial troops ahead parted like they were clearing a path. Mid-level officers mixed among them had heard the commander's signal and screamed in rage, but Decai had no way of knowing that. He simply shifted his gaze beyond the opening ranks.
And there, at the end, they spotted a band of steel-clad warriors. It was Kyle and the knights.
"So the Empire's tin cans finally show up."
Decai and the Kessiks, who had been overwhelmingly crushing Imperial forces until now, grinned at the sight of the knights charging like enraged bulls.
Thud thud!
Finally, the distance closed to where they could make out each other's eyes. Decai roared.
"Fine! Show me what you've got, you Empire tin cans!"
"Speak the Empire's tongue!"
Claaang!
The lead riders—Kyle and Decai—clashed. Decai's eyes widened round as saucers. Even without using aura, the impact from that full swing of a 10kg sword felt like it would snap his lance.
"What the hell are you?!"
"Don't know Elvish!"
Trading shouts in different tongues, the two exchanged dozens of blows in moments. Mounted combat was notoriously difficult, yet they traded strikes as effortlessly as if on flat ground.
For Decai, there was no difference between ground or horseback. For Kyle, Merlin was compensating for his lacking horsemanship.
Neigh!
Merlin rammed his head against the opponent's mount and bucked wildly. Despite being the leader of its herd, Decai's horse recoiled step by step under the ferocious assault.
"What a fine steed—above your station!"
Decai's eyes gleamed. A legendary mount, one in a decade? No, a century. Regardless of skill gaps, the horse was bridging them.
"I'll kill you and take the horse!"
Decai's lance whipped about, dazzling the eye, then thrust at a momentary gap in Kyle's guard. A strike that would sever an arm if not kill. But it merely scraped awkwardly against armor.
"What?!"
Decai was dumbfounded. Unreal—the horse had sidestepped to dodge. But horses had limits in covering poor riding, and Kyle was steadily being pushed back.
'Damn it... this guy's insanely strong...'
Kyle had fought all sorts, but Decai warranted inner curses. Near-perfect spearmanship fused with masterful horsemanship into something unreal! A faint bluish aura even clung to the lance tip.
"Aura! Sir Kyle!"
Lenia, catching her breath after felling a Kessik, screamed at the sight. Not an aura blade, fortunately, but clearer than hers.
She spurred her horse and lunged at Decai, who was pressing Kyle. Suddenly, a 2-on-1. Realizing the intruder's identity, Decai clicked his tongue.
"A woman? Does the Empire lack talent so much they send women to fight...?"
But he fell silent upon seeing the bluish aura on Lenia's sword. Man or woman, an aura user matched him in skill. Sweat beaded on Decai's brow.
"Damn... picked the wrong fight."
*****
"What momentum."
One aide remarked. The golden elf rampaging through the center had been halted by a knightly band. Especially the clash between the red-armored elf up front and Kyle and Lenia—it was so fierce it made one forget the war raging around them.
Even from afar, the brutality pierced the skin. The aides buzzed as they watched.
"We'd heard Lady Cligrove was an aura-using knight, but Viscount Lucas held that elf alone without aura?"
"Like lions fighting. Maybe Count Sarisa's defeat was inevitable."
Both were Cligrove retainers. With the yellow elves routed, the battle's tide favored the Empire. The soldiers, witnessing that brutal fight, regained morale.
"We can win!"
"Waaah! The knights have come to save us!"
Individuals overturning wars had vanished with the age of romance. Swordmasters came closest, but they avoided battlefields. Thus, these three stood out more.
Fighting amid tens of thousands as if in another realm entirely. Soldiers' eyes naturally turned there.
"Kill the elves!"
"Cavalry that can't maneuver are useless! Capture them for the war bounty!"
Elite reinforcements from the rear shouted as they charged the routed elves. Conscript eyes, once panicked and fleeing, now gleamed with greed at "bounty." The duke drove it home.
"Relay to the troops: any who bring the head of a golden-armored elf gets 100 pounds on the spot."
With that, Decai and the Kessiks' deep penetration became a liability. Supporting elves behind them buckled under Imperial pressure.
Clang!
Decai whipped his lance to shake off Kyle and Lenia. Scowling around, he ordered retreat. He wanted to fight on, but war trumped personal combat.
"Damn it... that's all for today. Retreat! About face!"
At his command, the Kessiks effortlessly shook their foes and withdrew like an ebbing tide.
"Whew..."
"Haa... haa..."
Kyle and Lenia, who had clashed hundreds of blows nonstop with the elf leader, sighed. Kyle's was pure relief; Lenia's exhaustion.
Outwardly, this all-out clash between elves and Empire ended in Imperial victory. Only outwardly.
"Agh!"
"Over here! Wounded man!"
But with casualties so massive—could it be called victory? Knights, cavalry, officers, soldiers: none unscathed. Tending them took the Empire two full days.
Non-combat supply personnel had died in droves, crippling logistics too.
Still, Imperial nobles patted their chests, deeming it a creditable showing. Who'd foreseen such strength from mere barbarians with pointy ears?
And if Kyle and Lenia hadn't stopped those golden elves at the end...
"We should prepare to withdraw."
The duke's first words at the initial council. Looking a decade older, he gazed at empty seats with a heavy expression.
"Withdraw... you mean?"
"But... His Majesty the Emperor..."
Nobles who would normally oppose retreat tooth and nail voiced only mild dissent.
"Of course, we still hold the edge. But... I doubt that's their full strength. Would elves with just over 20,000 dare invade the Empire?"
"But Your Grace, withdrawing now risks the rear."
One noble objected. But the duke hadn't decided lightly and shook his head.
"We'll negotiate. Isn't that what they want?"
"Hah..."
"His Majesty..."
The Empire negotiating with barbarians. Nobles sighed at the humiliation, but saw no alternative. Another elven army could overwhelm their current forces.
'Wise choice.'
Kyle thought, closing his eyes quietly. Better to cede northern land than risk the Empire through bravado. The duke's gaze turned to him.
"This battle's slim victory owes much to Viscount Lucas and Lady Cligrove. On behalf of all, I offer thanks."
"No need, Your Grace. Others brave nobles would have stepped up had I not. I merely got lucky first."
His polished words drew awkward coughs and bows from nobles. But the duke continued.
"I have one more request of you—will you grant it?"
The duke using "request" himself! Amid aides' shock, Kyle blinked in confusion.
"A request, Your Grace?"
"You'll join me for these talks. I ask but once."