Chapter 24
Chapter 24
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 024
Chapter Title: Brad Cahill
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Karl Bailyner drew his sword before the assembled cavalrymen.
"This sword is a gift from the commander. He said it was in return for reattaching the arm I was about to give up on."
The sword energy flowing across its surface seemed to reflect the blade's careful maintenance.
"I've spent thirty years at Westguard alongside him, but I still don't understand humans. There's one thing I do know, though. The commander saved my life and accepted me as a friend. That's the real gift."
Clang.
After sheathing his sword, he scanned his longtime comrades.
"I don't think what we need to protect is some palisade. To me, the commander is Westguard—the final bastion we must defend."
"...!"
With those words, Karl Bailyner spurred his horse forward.
Neigh!
Clop, clop.
One by one, the reconnaissance unit's soldiers followed in his wake.
A moment later, Hal muttered.
"The commander is Westguard?"
"Can't argue with that."
Nil turned his reins, slowly circling the cavalrymen.
Clop, clop.
"What do you all think?"
"Nothing new about it. He built Westguard, after all."
"Can't imagine the fortress without the commander."
"Let's go. How long could I or my family last without him?"
Nil beckoned to his adjutant and took the flag.
"Twenty years ago, I was the youngest standard-bearer in the north. I survived and ended up leading the cavalry. So today, I'm the standard-bearer. Together...?"
"I think I should be the one hearing that."
"Huh?"
Hal Frederick snatched the flag and urged his horse to the front of the formation.
"Some of you might remember, but before I got pulled into adjutant duty, I was a standard-bearer too. So I figure I've got the right to hold the flag. Anyone joining me, fall in behind."
Flutter.
"Wooooah!"
With cheers at his back, he glanced at his old friend.
"Some of us lived wild and free, while others cleaned up the mess. Let's switch it up today."
"What? You're joking, right?"
"You follow orders. I'll take care of the commander."
Without waiting for a reply, Hal spurred his horse.
"Hyah!"
Neigh!
Clop, clop.
As the flag moved, the cavalrymen surged after him in unison.
"Wooooah, let's go!"
"Hah! Hah!"
Thud thud thud thud.
The formation led by Hal kicked up a long trail of dust and vanished into the distance.
"Defying orders and seizing command to boot. But..."
Nil smacked his lips.
"If you're ready to face the consequences, it's just a matter of choice."
One man's defiance always comes at the cost of another's sacrifice. He'd always been on the giving end, but he hadn't expected to pay the price himself.
He let out a short sigh and turned his reins.
"Everyone, move out! Destination's Westguard. From now on, we cut rest breaks in half."
"Hyah, let's hurry!"
Creak, rattle.
The caravan of wagons and people stretched out long once more.
Thud thud thud thud.
Karl caught up to Brad and shouted.
"The ground's in rough shape!"
"Yeah. Looks like more rain fell this dawn than I thought."
Karl acted like it was no big deal, and Brad seemed to have anticipated it. Despite the whipping wind and pounding hooves, their conversation flowed smoothly.
"Looks like we'll have to give up the cavalry's mobility advantage."
"We can still manage one charge—hmm? Did you bring everyone?"
At Brad's incredulous expression, Karl glanced back.
"I left it to their judgment."
Thud thud thud thud.
The cavalrymen trailing behind let out ear-piercing whoops amid the thunderous roar.
"Kekeke, commander, take us with you!"
"Hahaha, where do you think you're going without us? Bring us along!"
Hal pulled up alongside, and Brad's scolding poured out.
"Where's the standard-bearer? Why are you holding the flag? What about Nil?"
"He's leading the refugees. You know he doesn't listen anyway."
"Tch."
"Heh heh heh."
Thrilled by this rare act of rebellion, Hal grinned as he galloped on.
They'd set out at noon, alternating slow trots, full sprints, and rests. By sunset, they reached the forest along the Camini River's banks—and spotted the orcs half-encircling it.
"Just as expected. They've built a defensive line around the cairn."
"The right flank looks thin. We'll break through there."
But the horses and soldiers, after hours of hard riding, were exhausted.
"Shame we can't pick up speed."
"No choice. We punch through straight to the cairn. Everyone, watch for falls."
"I'll take point! Hyah!"
"Fall in behind me! Hyah!"
Hal Frederick led with the flag held high, Karl Bailyner right on his tail. The cavalrymen surrounded them and charged.
Karl, catching up to the lead flag, drew his sword.
"Charge! Crush everything and reach the cairn!"
"Wooooah! To the cairn!"
Thud thud thud thud.
The speed was lacking, but it was over 200 riders, each weighing nearly 800kg with horse and man. This massive iron mace slammed into a section of the orc lines. The result was devastating.
Boom!
"Kwek."
An orc struck by a warhorse flew through the air. Even those who turned or reacted swiftly were helpless against the terrifying speed and weight.
"Guruk, bl-blood, damage. Guk."
Crunch.
Few fell to weapons; most were sent flying on impact or crushed under hooves after being shoved into each other.
"Kiek, kieeek."
"Guruk, don't scatter—stick together!"
The final surge collapsed one flank of the orc formation.
The news spread instantly to the soldiers holding out in the cairn.
"Reinforcements!"
"Lord Brad's here. We're saved."
"We counterattack too! Everyone, dismount!"
"Uwaaaah."
The entrenched soldiers leaped down one by one.
"Shields up! Spears ready! Just hold them—it's momentum now!"
"Shoulders aligned—forward march!"
The soldiers swiftly formed a phalanx and advanced.
Step, step, step, step.
"Kwiik, kwiiiik."
"Kweeeek."
In their fatigued state, the tight formation proved even more effective. Orcs were impaled on spears or drawn into the phalanx and trampled like porcupines advancing as one.
Riding the momentum, the soldiers pressed onward.
The orcs crumbled helplessly under the massive counterattack. When even their main camp, preparing to rotate in, fell silent, the orc assault finally withdrew.
"Wooooah. We're alive."
"Huff, huff. Thought we were done for."
The relieved soldiers slumped against the cairn-turned-wall—what had once been a stone grave—to rest.
Clop. Clop.
Snort, whinny.
The horses and riders, who had galloped nonstop for half a day, collapsed here and there as well.
Brad dismounted and sought out the command group.
"My lord."
"Hah, hah. Welcome, Lord Brad."
"Huff, huff. Well come."
"I had a feeling, but how did you know to come?"
Arun, Rayner, and the knights all chimed in.
Their haggard appearances matched their sincere tones. They were knights with combat experience, but death was still terrifying.
The sheer numbers were the problem. Swinging a 1.3kg longsword for over thirty minutes drained stamina. They'd held on with thrusts, but they'd reached their limit.
"You dismantled the cairn to build a defensive line."
"Ah, we had no choice but..."
Rayner Cus tried to explain in a panic, but Brad cut him off.
"Excellent judgment. Was it you who set the forest edge ablaze too?"
"Y-yes."
"Fine work. As expected of knights from the main house."
At Brad's praise, the Royal Guard Knights and squires bowed silently.
Outwardly proud and distant, they'd inwardly acknowledged Brad Cahill's career. Those who had shared this desperate crisis bowed solemnly to the old knight's commendation.
Rayner stepped forward as their representative.
"What do we do now?"
"I brought the cavalry, but the horses are spent. This only buys us a moment—no real change in the battle. Regrettably, we have two options."
Brad held up an index finger.
"First, fight to the death. Second, retreat to the death."
"Th-that..."
"The first is a knightly end, but the second offers a slim chance for another day."
Brad turned to stare at Arun.
"Choose, my lord. We'll obey."
"I-I..."
Arun van Brennenton swallowed hard.
He'd always lived making choices, but the scars of past failures lingered deeply. The shock and self-loathing from witnessing the tragedy born of his foolish decision had tormented him for a long time.
"Um, so what I'm saying is..."
Choices are momentary, results eternal. But fate granted no time even for hesitation.
"Orcs. The orcs are coming again."
"Damn it, did they eat the stragglers for breakfast? They look fresh."
No orders from command, yet the soldiers grabbed weapons and took positions on instinct. Soon, eerie cries echoed from all directions.
Brad drew his sword.
"I'll take that as choosing a knightly end."
"Glory to the lord!"
"Glory!"
The five Royal Guard Knights drew their swords in salute, then filled the front-line gaps.
A beat late, Arun drew his and glanced at Brad.
"It's an honor to meet my end beside you."
"I return the words exactly."
The two stood shoulder to shoulder and stepped into the open phalanx.
The battle that followed was a test of endurance.
"Uwaaaah, die!"
"Don't waste strength. Conserve stamina—wait for openings."
"Hold with shoulders. Don't fall—die standing if you must."
"Urgh."
"Hey, Hamilton—you okay?"
Silence meant one thing. A soldier set down his spear, took up his comrade's shield, and filled the gap.
"Uwaaah, die!"
"Kruk, my rations. No more dying."
"Kraaak."
Dusk fell, and the situation grew hopeless. The exhausted dropped one by one. Many were familiar faces.
"Kruk, humans are tired. We're fine. Kill them."
Spotting an elite orc charging the front, Brad leaped from the phalanx without hesitation.
Slash.
"Kak. Grrr."
The elite orc, wrist severed, slunk back like melting into the shadows—an unnaturally controlled retreat for a beastly monster.
Brad, withdrawing swiftly, began to sense the end.
'No regrets. But it's a shame.'
If the infantry had held the phalanx while cavalry shattered the orc lines and struck command, victory might've been possible. But they'd been separated, and now united, all were spent.
"Kraaak."
The mercenaries leading the soldiers died first, shattering the phalanx. With the shield wall broken, orcs clambered over the cairn.
The stamina-drained knights could hold no longer.
"Kuhk."
Honern collapsed, his collarbone shattered and axe lodged in his ribs.
"Knight Honern Matt failed to serve his lord to the end—forgive..."
Crush.
His head shattered under an orc club before he could finish.
"Honern, no! Guh."
Showing emotion mid-battle was folly, but ideals and reality clashed. Knight Drain Hussle clutched the spear protruding from his throat and staggered.
"Fall back, tighten the gaps. Stay together to survive."
"Rayner—watch out! Kraaak."
Landiv blocked an elite orc's axe with his shield. Shards exploded, horribly twisting his once-handsome face.
Death spared no one.
"Kraaak."
An orc glaive smashed Landiv's shield and cleaved Hal Frederick's waist. He moved no more after falling.
"Hal!"
"Hic, my knights... my loyal friends."
Brad turned to Arun, who recoiled screaming.
"Uwaaaah."
"Young lord, pull yourself together."
He grabbed Arun's shoulders and shook. Blatant rudeness.
"If you give up now, I won't forgive you. That insults those who died on orders."
"L-Lord Brad."
As focus returned to his dazed eyes, so did the young noble's despair.
"I'm the villain here. My greed and stubbornness ruined everything. Got innocent soldiers and loyal knights killed."
"Shut it! Don't disgrace the fallen's will."
Brad yanked Arun by the collar, locking eyes.
"The knights upheld their oaths, the soldiers did their duty. You bad? It's just choices and consequences—no good or evil for a lord. Snap out of it. You're a knight too."
"...I, Arun van Brennenton, knight appointed by His Majesty."
His wavering pupils steadied with the murmur.
"Whew, showed my ugly side again."
"Fear not death. For a knight, death is..."
Suddenly, Arun's eyes widened.
"Lord Brad! Uwaaaah."
With Arun's scream, an axe sheared half Brad's head. His body crumpled. An orc silhouette loomed behind.
"Kruk. Caught the human lea—"
"Commander!"
Karl Bailyner decapitated the orc a moment too late.
"Damn it all! Uwaaaah!"
He cradled the corpse, roaring in dazed anguish.
It was over.
The last soldiers fought with indomitable will, but the fallen outnumbered the standing.
Thud.
Struck by a glaive, Arun collapsed limply.
"Krh..."
A sob-like groan escaped as his eyes closed.
The clamor of the battlefield faded into the distance.