Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Returning
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Those in Cheonryeo who called themselves warriors were all charging across the Great Desert. With Kakantir at the vanguard, sandstorms raged fiercely. Ian, too, pulled his hood low and closely followed behind him.
Berik was...
"Uhe. Uheheh."
"Shut up. Close your mouth."
He stuck right behind the warrior escorting Ian, nonstop giggling. He seemed thrilled that they hadn't left him behind. He was rolled up in cloth like baggage and secured with straps.
"Lord Ian. Are you sure it's okay to take this with us?"
"What choice do we have? He says he'll cause trouble if we leave him."
"Crazy bastard. Even when I tell him to rest, he refuses."
"That's resting? It's being sidelined!"
Berik could miraculously lift his upper body, but walking was still a struggle. They had all agreed it would be best to leave him behind when the guy dropped a bombshell.
He said he'd bite his tongue and die if they left him.
It was absurd, but since it was Berik, they couldn't rule it out.
"Fine, then you're participating in the battle? You'll just hang off the back of a Kusille the whole time. Whatever, if arrows fly, you can act as a shield."
"Yeah. No thanks. In my eyes, I'll be better in two days."
"Your head's messed up."
"For real. I feel it."
Ian shook his head at Berik's chatter with the warrior. That guy surely had some hidden secret beyond being a Sword-Mage. Even the Cheonryeo Tribe, born with the power of nature, didn't show that level of recovery.
Ian kept glancing sideways at Berik, who noticed and grinned cheekily. He was in an exceptionally good mood.
Tadak-tadak!
"Kakan! Bariel is in sight!"
"Let's go!"
One of the warriors charging ahead shouted. The small temple where they had signed the peace accord came into view. At Kakantir's cry, they all urged their Kusilles to full speed.
Hiiing!
In an instant, they passed the temple and the two rocks marking the border. Berik, munching on Gurut Leaves, let out a cheer.
"I'm back!"
"Feels good, Berik?"
"Yeah! Feels fucking great!"
The warriors burst into laughter simultaneously. Kakantir, who had glanced back, was the same. He slowly pulled on his Kusille's reins, slowing down. It was the promised meeting point with Su.
"Everyone! Over here!"
"Su!"
They all approached happily at Su's appearance. After brief hugs with her comrades, she immediately reported the situation.
"Bratz's private soldiers are pretty decent. Even though they're losing ground, they're using the terrain well to hold out. Of course, there's nothing else going for them, so the battle's inevitably tilting. If they'd given up the manor and retreated into the forest, it would've been over, right? They fought so desperately it was pathetic."
"And Derga?"
It was the most crucial point from the Cheonryeo Tribe's perspective. Su smiled brightly at Kakantir's question laced with fury.
"He's still alive. The Central Army hasn't stopped pursuing him. No sign of them entering the manor specifically."
"Good, Su. Join up with us. We're heading into Bratz."
At Kakantir's command, they all nodded in unison. They charged deeper into the heart of Bratz. The river crossing Bratz was dyed blood-red, and unidentifiable corpses littered the ground everywhere.
And that was just the start.
Fields awaiting the autumn harvest were ruined by debris from half-destroyed homes, and screams and wails blended into the most horrific human sounds piercing their ears. It was impossible to pinpoint where they came from.
"Aaaah!"
"Someone help here! Please help!"
"Wait, just wait! Thieves! Thieves!"
"You crazy fuck! Give me my bread!"
Pukeok! Puk!
Where swords had slashed, the dregs of humanity spilled out. Stepping on others to survive seemed a given, as the weak preyed on the weak, chaining one after another.
"More miserable than I thought."
"You think so? To me, it's exactly as miserable as expected."
Ian replied to Kakantir's words. Having been through countless wars, it was familiar to Ian, yet still uncomfortable. Even if it was just part of history's inevitable flow.
Nersarn muttered while gazing at the smoke rising in the distance.
"At this rate, it seems like they've dealt quite fatal blows to each other."
"Yeah. Perfect."
Central Army and Derga's private soldiers. The two forces mutually annihilating to the brink of collapse was the best outcome for Ian and the Cheonryeo Tribe. Only then would the Cheonryeo Tribe's presence loom larger, lending strength to Ian.
"Huh! L-look at that!"
It was then. Territory folk cleaning up the streets pointed and shouted. They had spotted the Cheonryeo procession.
"Barbarians! The barbarians are invading!"
"Oh, gods! Why! Why!"
"Everyone run! Run!"
"Uwaaaang!"
They all clutched their children and bolted. Some had given up entirely, praying in terror.
And who could blame them? The area was already devastated from the Central Army's battle. There was a limit to piling on misfortune. With barbarians joining in, despair was all that remained for them.
"You heartless bastards! You saw your chance and pounced, huh? You beasts! Get out! Get the fuck out!"
"Honey! Don't! Please!"
"Yeah, kill us! Kill everyone! Let's face judgment before the gods! Kiiiill!"
"The Cheonryeo Tribe is invading! It's the Cheonryeo!"
"Those fuckers are the ones who rob banks too—hurry, keep running! Run!"
It was pandemonium. Kakantir's expression was impassive, but the warriors couldn't hide their displeasure. They weren't here to help, but they weren't attackers either. They were slowly riding toward the manor.
"Uwaaang!"
Kung!
Amid the fleeing territory folk, a child tripped and fell. The parents who had let go of its hand were nowhere in sight. Kakantir halted his Kusille and looked down at the child.
"Hic..."
Tears welled up in the child's wide eyes. As it bit its lip and trembled, Kakantir silently gazed down. The fleeing folk watched from afar.
"There's a child ahead. Guide the Kusilles carefully."
"Yes, Kakan."
Tadak-tadak.
There was no gentle lifting or checking on its condition. But he instructed the group behind to part like rocks around a pebble and pass by. The child froze in shock, head raised.
"Come on, get up. The ground's cold."
Ian extended a hand slowly as he passed. The face visible under the hood wasn't Cheonryeo—it was familiar blond hair and green eyes. The child unconsciously grabbed Ian's hand with its grubby fingers.
"Good child."
Ian held the child and slowly urged his Kusille forward. From afar, he beckoned the bewildered territory folk.
"Come take the child. Are the parents there?"
"M-me, me! I'm the father!"
"A father stands idle why?"
At Ian's call, a man snapped to attention and ran over. He flinched as he received the child. The slightly pushed-back hood revealed a familiar face.
"...Lord Ian?"
"You know me?"
"I-I'm the stablehand. Don't you remember?"
"Ah, yes. It's you."
He didn't recall the name, but the face was familiar. Aside from minor scratches, he was caked in dirt, making recognition hard. Ian patted the stablehand's shoulder and smiled.
"Long time no see. Glad you're alive."
"...Wh-what happened?"
"Later. I'm busy now. Just know the Cheonryeo Tribe came to aid Bratz, so don't fear too much and spread the word to your neighbors. Take care."
Turning, he saw the Cheonryeo ahead waiting, Berik included, dangling bound. Ian rode back to his spot as naturally as if nothing happened.
"H-hey. What'd he say?"
"You know him?"
As the Cheonryeo vanished, they swarmed the stablehand with questions. They were dying to know their fate, their homeland's future.
"Lord Ian...?"
"Ian? The count's bastard son?"
"The one sold to the Cheonryeo... huh?! Yeah! He crossed the desert!"
"What'd the bastard say? Huh? He talked at length."
They gasped, recalling the forgotten bastard. The stablehand hugged his child tight, eyes following Ian's disappearance. Before crossing the Great Desert, Ian had warned him, as if foreseeing the future, to quit the manor and tell Haina.
'It wasn't solely because of that, but...'
In any case, those who left the manor mostly survived, while those who stayed died by the investigation team's hands.
With the countess and young master of uncertain fate, the servants' fragile lives were worth less than dirt.
"Th-the Cheonryeo will help... he said."
"Cheonryeo helping?"
"What..."
The territory folk snorted in disbelief. But none openly refuted—the reality was that hopeless.
In this clash between their homeland Bariel and lord Derga, who else could intervene?
"Make way. We have no business with you."
"Charge ahead, keep going!"
"Barbarians! The barbarian scum are invading!"
"Ah, fuck, they keep calling us barbarians and shit. Can't we just kill those and go?"
"Kyaaak! Beastkin! Spare us!"
"Quiet, Mugurun. Eyes front."
"The manor is in sight!"
Meanwhile, the Cheonryeo, crossing villages nonstop, finally arrived at the Bratz manor. Instead of the family banner, a charred investigation team flag fluttered. It clearly showed who won the battle.
Hiiing!
Kakantir yanked the Kusille's reins, coming to a full stop. Soldiers guarding the front hastily thrust spears. Their helmets and armor were blood-soaked, no limb unscathed.
"Wh-who are you!"
"Frontier barbarians? How'd you get here?"
Cheok!
Their limping shouts were pitiful. As an offended warrior drew his sword to step forward, Ian blocked him. With an apologetic glance, Ian took the lead.
"I am Ian, bastard son of Count Bratz. These are the great desert warriors, the Cheonryeo Tribe. We're not here to oppose you—inform your master of 'our' presence."
The soldiers hesitated at Ian's blond hair and green eyes. That appearance was unmistakably Bariel. Their gazes shifted to the warriors standing firm behind him.
They embodied nature's majesty. The raw aura of untouchable predators was palpable. The soldiers faltered, muttering.
"...W-wait, just, wait a moment."
If ordered, they'd crush their skulls barehanded. The soldier stammered backward, then dashed inside to report.
His remaining comrades awkwardly gripped their swords.
Hiiing!
They flinched at even the Kusille's cry, sweating coldly.