Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Ambush in the Darkness
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“Stay in tight formation and hold position! Don’t move recklessly until your vision recovers!”
The torches around them had gone out one by one with slight delays, but the intervals were so short that it felt as if they had all extinguished simultaneously.
Even the moonlight was blocked by clouds. The enemy, having stolen away the light, had melted into the darkness. She blinked her dim eyes, waiting for them to adjust.
“The enemy is still nearby. Check your surroundings and form up.”
She trusted her soldiers. They had endured grueling training well. Even caught off guard by the sudden ambush, they would quickly regain their composure and fall back into basic formation.
“No one around here!”
“Nothing here either!”
The soldiers scattered around her began reporting in. At least that was a relief. They had just wrapped up a mission and returned, so no one was resting.
She regretted the absence of the knights and mages who had left for the territory with the prisoners, but there were still over forty soldiers left at the camp. More than enough to subdue an unnamed swordsman.
That should have been the case, yet her theoretically sound judgment felt unreliable. The man in the tent, Lander, had vanished in an instant.
She hadn’t been distracted; she had been watching him intently. Yet the man, who had brazenly drawn his sword, had evaporated like smoke.
Maybe he was a mage. He must have focused her gaze on the sword drawn in one hand while tearing a scroll with the other. He had seemed to disappear, but he had probably been there all along.
Her mentor’s words came to mind: Mages are mysterious beings, so always be cautious.
The mages she had met during joint operations hadn’t seemed all that impressive, but the “real” ones were likely as dangerous as her mentor had warned.
If he used a strange scroll to disrupt their senses and create distance, then attacked from afar, it would be hard to counter.
That explained the unease she had felt watching him. Pretending to be a swordsman while wielding magic in secret.
She had been had. He knew how to fight. Perhaps he was one of the veteran mages invited from Anke. Maybe that was why he hadn’t shown her the entire journal—scrolls hidden inside.
“Here!”
A soldier’s shout broke the silence again. This time from behind her. Her eyes had fully adjusted to the dark, making identification possible now.
The moment she turned, she saw soldiers collapsing to the ground. A torch set up a bit farther away was still burning, and through its flickering light, she glimpsed something moving. Or had she? It vanished in a flash.
It felt surreal. Could a mage move like that?
Her mentor had told her of mages who transformed into wild beasts to fight, so agile they were tricky to handle.
Even so, that speed didn’t make sense. She steadied her quickening breath and scanned her surroundings warily.
Over ten soldiers lay sprawled on the ground, by rough count. Whenever a scream rang out, another soldier fell. The enemy left no trace.
She meant to warn them to beware of the enemy’s magic. Her mouth had half-opened when she realized what she had overlooked. There was no unpleasant sensation, no magic wavelength that mages always emitted when casting.
It was impossible to miss the bizarre energy surge from using a scroll. The basics of facing a mage were detecting the wavelength’s origin and closing in.
The camp was filled only with crisp dawn air. No magic wavelength swept over her body.
Two possibilities: Either the enemy prowling the darkness wasn’t a mage, or he knew how to erase his wavelengths.
No scream this time. She flinched at the thud of bodies hitting the ground and glanced sideways. Three soldiers right beside her had toppled over.
They had been subordinates ten meters away—a distance where she could hear their breathing if she focused. Yet she had sensed nothing.
This isn’t magic, she concluded. The sporadic attacks continued. Moving fast enough to vanish while striking precisely and erasing magic wavelengths?
It was more convincing as peak physical technique. She thought of her mentor.
Her mentor could wipe out everyone in the camp with his beloved halberd. At speeds too fast for the eye to follow.
Her head grew heavy. No matter the hypothesis, the conclusion was the same. If this continued, they would all die.
“Stop, or this man’s life is forfeit!”
Humiliating, but she had no choice. She pressed her blade to the hostage’s neck.
What would her mentor say seeing her like this? He’d curse her for cornering with numbers and now taking a hostage like a coward.
If it had been a fair duel of warriors, she would have met him head-on. Even death by an unseen blade would bring no regrets.
But she was the commander. The team’s lives came before personal honor.
“Everyone, form up on me!”
In the brief lull from the attacks, she gathered her subordinates close. Against an ambush specialist, scattering was fatal. Clustered together, the enemy would have to show himself.
“You’re a bit late. You should have responded immediately to the first ambush.”
A man appeared before her eyes. She tensed, eyeing the figure emerging from the darkness with his sword dangling loosely.
No sign of fatigue. Steady breathing. Not a drop of sweat on the faintly visible face.
He had cut down over ten soldiers. At speeds invisible to the eye. Yet no change in stamina—could you even call that human?
“Gathering into formation now is still the right response.”
“Are you trying to teach me?”
She shouted deliberately loud. If she’d had composure, she might have conversed calmly. She regretted giving him an opening by yelling in desperation, but there was no helping it.
“Good talent. You pinpointed my position multiple times. Above all, I applaud you for staying put and assessing the situation.”
The man clapped leisurely. In the silent camp, only the dry claps echoed.
She gripped her sword tighter. Shame burned. The enemy before her was toying with her. If it was provocation, it had succeeded brilliantly.
“Seems you don’t grasp the situation. Keep talking! His head will roll.”
Her blade touched the hostage’s neck. The slightest pressure and the well-honed edge would pierce it. The man would shut up, buying time to think. But the enemy didn’t play along.
“What do you think is the basis of negotiation?”
“Are my words funny?”
“Not at all. I can feel your sincerity from here. The firm resolve to behead the hostage. But first, consider the basics. How much value do you think that hostage has to me?”
“What?”
She glanced sidelong at the hostage. His expression was calm. No injustice, but a sense of conviction, like he accepted it regretfully.
No, he seemed to be enjoying the situation. Even with a blade at his throat.
The moment she thought her bargaining chip was gone, the man raised his sword. He took a step forward, as if no more talk was needed.
Just one step, yet it pressed on her like a punch to the solar plexus. She held her breath.
The soldiers clustered around her gritted their teeth, barely holding. But some gasped and fled.
One, two, three. The formation of over twenty crumbled from a single step. She couldn’t yell at them to stop. She wanted to abandon everything and run too.
Only after vomiting out the breath she’d held could she check behind her.
Only three soldiers remained standing with weapons. The rest had vanished.
They had willingly plunged into a forest prowled by beasts. Fleeing the monster worse than any beast before them.
“C-Captain... R-Run... run away.”
The soldier beside her stammered. She didn’t remember his name. Only that he was a farmer who had enlisted in the imperial army at the war’s end.
The other two were the same. Utterly ordinary folk. The capable subordinates she’d valued had fled, leaving the indifferent ones.
A bitter thought of her poor judgment of character flickered, but now wasn’t the time for sentiment.
Another step.
The man advanced. The moment she saw the tip of his subtly raised sword, she squeezed her eyes shut. Even facing her mentor’s halberd wouldn’t feel this dreadful.
From the front, it was clear. She couldn’t block that sword.
She pulled her blade from the hostage’s neck. Then stepped aside. The soldiers gasped sharply and moved with her.
“I surrender.”
“Too late.”
“Please show mercy.”
“Why should I?”
“That’s...”
“Choices always come with a price. When I refused to show you the journal, you didn’t listen. I understand it was necessary procedure. So you must understand the responsibility you bear in this situation?”
It was absurd that this mess stemmed from a mere journal, yet she couldn’t refute the word “responsibility.”
Her mentor had always said it: Bearing responsibility is terrifying. She hadn’t expected to experience it like this.
Temporary commander or not, she didn’t want to make cowardly excuses.
“I’ll take responsibility. You decide how.”
“Shall I?”
“But end it with me. As you said, it’s mine to bear.”
“Understood.”
She signaled her remaining subordinates. They had held firm, but at her urging, they lowered their weapons.
She saw the fallen soldiers in her view. Would she join them now? Death always comes absurdly—her mentor’s warning had come true.
Would her foolish disciple’s pathetic end make him a little sad? Or would he scoff, “I knew it”?
“Take up your sword.”
The man said.
“Is there reason to?”
“Of course. But one question first. Was the sword your main weapon?”
“It’s convenient, but not what I’m used to.”
“I thought so. Then take up your preferred weapon.”
“What are you planning?”
The man didn’t answer. She hesitated, then fetched her halberd from the tent. No point in further groveling.
The situation forced obedience, but holding the familiar weapon sparked a sliver of confidence.
Maybe a miracle would happen. This weapon she’d trained with—could it defeat that monstrous man?
Cornered on a cliff, one foot dangling. Pushed to the limit, all that remained was stubborn defiance. The reckless grit her mentor had mentioned.
She raised the halberd. The grip felt good in her hands. She had done her duty as commander; now it was time to stand as a warrior.
“I see.”
The man said. What did he mean? She sharpened her focus on him. Would this monster leave an opening?
No, don’t think.
Inevil shifted her weight to her forward foot. One chance. No second. She would pour everything into it.
(To be continued next time)