Chapter 64
Chapter 64
Clatter clatter clatter.
"A month's deadline? They're being awfully generous."
A deep voice pierced through the clamor of galloping hooves from the head of the cavalry unit racing across the plains, reaching Logan's ears.
"They're probably buying time to form an alliance among themselves."
"Even so, it's too long. And Peretta's reaction is suspiciously absent."
"Peretta will react by the time we take Silvan. Or we might get word mid-battle."
"Yes, that's likely. Though by then, it'll already be too late for them."
Patrick glanced back, a satisfied smile curling his lips.
The sight of the knights charging ahead with valor, followed by over a thousand soldiers—and the weapons in their hands—brought him joy even on the eve of war.
With newfound leisure, Patrick turned his attention to another intriguing topic.
"I heard your slave became a Force User. Did you foresee that when you brought him?"
"Yes."
"Planning to make him a knight?"
"I will, once we return."
"Hahaha. Did you really have the foresight to spot such talent?"
"I was lucky."
Logan smirked and glanced back. Behind the knights, still dressed in soldier's garb but riding at the forefront of the infantry, was Victor.
Though Victor could be knighted immediately now that he was a Force User, Logan had delayed it.
'He's still green. If he clashes with knights too soon, he might break before he's ready.'
Despite Logan's consideration, Victor's expression was slightly discontented.
Since Logan had burned his slave papers right in front of him, it wasn't a matter of status. More likely...
'He wants to fight. Against strong opponents.'
Logan chuckled at the thought.
He already had a worthy opponent prepared for the boy: Ronian, who was currently training diligently in the MacLaine estate, mastering the Divine Sword Secret Arts.
The two prodigies would undoubtedly make excellent rivals.
'You'll get to fight to your heart's content later. For now, endure it, kid.'
The true trials were still far off.
The finest weapons of the future still needed careful tempering.
"Charge!"
"Let's go! Time to kick Soto Silvan's ass!"
For now, it was time to wield the protagonists of the present.
Two MacLaines, seventy-three knights, 1,390 soldiers, and 313 mercenaries—nearly 1,800 cavalrymen in total—rode at a steady pace, resting intermittently.
By midday, they saw the bewildered faces of Silvan's soldiers atop the fortress walls.
"Soto Silvan! Come out and face my blade!"
The booming voice carried nearly a kilometer, shaking the soldiers on the walls.
"W-what the hell is that?"
"A flame banner?"
"Report to the lord!"
Before the panicked soldiers could react, silver-armored knights ascended the walls as if they had been waiting.
Each bore the emblem of a greatsword crossed within flames.
At their forefront stood a stout middle-aged man who scowled as he surveyed the scene below.
"MacLaine... They actually dared to invade. These madmen think they can mock me?!"
"My lord! Let me lead the charge! I'll stop Patrick MacLaine!"
"We'll crush them! The Silvan Knight Order—120 strong—is fully prepared!"
"And our 2,512 soldiers have been on standby since we heard their pitiful threats!"
The knight captain, recently ascended to High Knight, boasted confidently, backed by the resolute shouts of his subordinates.
Though MacLaine's forces were larger than expected, Silvan's still outnumbered them.
Even after receiving the magical communication, Soto hadn't believed they'd actually come. Now that they were right before his eyes, he was speechless.
'Callian has become a High Knight too. You're no longer the only High Knight in this region, Patrick MacLaine. How dare you overstep?'
Soto trembled with rage before his expression hardened with sudden realization.
"...What about Peretta? Still no response?"
"Silence. They must still be coordinating internally."
"My lord, even if Peretta sends reinforcements, it'll take half a day. There's no need to wait—"
"No, that's not it. What if Peretta stabs us in the back after we crush MacLaine?"
"Huh?!"
"Doesn't it seem odd? MacLaine declares war right after sending a protest and charges here as if they'd been waiting, while Peretta stays silent. Callian, does that sound normal to you?"
"...No. It doesn't."
"Exactly. They're in cahoots. Those damn dogs!"
There was no proof, of course, but Soto was convinced of his theory.
Otherwise, this sudden turn of events—the absurd behavior of both houses—made no sense.
"These trash dare to... Ugh!"
As he clenched his fists in fury—
"Are you scared, Soto Silvan?! Keep cowering like a frightened fox! I'll personally take your head!"
—the insulting roar from outside the walls steeled his resolve.
"Contact Vifros. Tell them we'll offer half the spoils from crushing MacLaine as tribute."
"...What?"
"We need to keep Peretta—those bastards—from moving against us!"
"U-understood!"
"Gather every knight and soldier! We'll annihilate MacLaine before Peretta can intervene!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Grind.
"You dare betray me? After devouring MacLaine, you're next, Max Peretta."
Soto's murderous gaze was no longer fixed on the enemies outside but on his rival to the south.
"Wouldn't it be better to have the soldiers provide covering fire before we charge into the castle? With our knights' skill—"
"No, not yet. If Lord Silvan flees, we'll have trouble. Wait."
"Father is right. If the knights scale the walls and force a melee, the castle will be ruined. They think they outnumber us. They'll come out soon."
"But there's no reaction..."
"I know Soto Silvan a little. He can't stand insults. Just wait a bit longer."
How would a Grand Prince who's lived his whole life in MacLaine territory know that bastard?
Heinkel swallowed the retort rising in his throat as he watched the enemy forces begin to stir.
Moments later—
BOOM.
The gates opened, and Silvan's troops poured out.
Over a hundred knights clad in armor emblazoned with the crossed greatsword in flames. A thousand cavalrymen. And even more pikemen.
"Three thousand regular troops alone. Impressive."
"Within expected parameters."
"Of course."
Though Silvan's forces outnumbered MacLaine's by nearly 1.5 times, none of MacLaine's commanders showed any tension.
If anything—
"The MacLaines have no sense of shame..."
"Full charge!"
Before the enemy commander's cry even finished, red energy surged from Patrick's blade as he pointed forward without hesitation.
"Charge!"
"Let's go!"
"I'll take the lead!"
With that, MacLaine's confident soldiers spurred their horses and surged forward.
"Th-these insolent—!"
A subordinate fumed, but Callian only smirked.
"Look at them. They're all just foot soldiers."
For some reason, MacLaine wasn't leading with their knights. Instead, ordinary soldiers—without even armor insignias—were charging ahead of the knight order.
And not in a tight formation, but spread out in a single line.
It was laughable.
Foot soldiers charging like this while the knights hung back?
"Rabble."
"Indeed. Their equipment looks decent, though. MacLaine must've made a lot of money."
"Shall we trample them?"
"Of course!"
"Full charge!"
Unlike the disorganized rabble, Silvan's forces advanced in a textbook formation: knights at the front, a thousand cavalry supporting from behind.
A textbook formation was proven effective.
Once the knights and cavalry broke through the enemy center, the scattered remnants would be easy pickings for the pikemen.
In Callian's mind, the battle's outcome was already clear.
But the battle unfolded in a way he never expected.
"Ready!"
At the gray-haired mercenary's shout from the center of the "rabble," MacLaine's soldiers raised their crossbows in unison.
As the distance closed to within 300 meters—
"Fire!"
Thwip thwip thwip!
A storm of death rained down on Silvan's forces.
Neigh!
"Argh!"
"W-what?!"
Thunk! Thunk!
"Arrows! Tighten ranks!"
Callian shouted belatedly, but the formation was already shattered.
Even knights, caught off guard, fell under the hail of arrows. The cavalry behind them were left helpless.
Neigh!
"Aaah!"
The ranks collapsed in an instant, soldiers tumbling and tangling as Silvan's forces were decimated.
"Pick up speed!"
Gritting his teeth, Callian roared as his knights closed the gap, pushing their Force to the limit.
At the head of Silvan's knights, Callian—now a High Knight—and his captains charged, even using Force to shield their horses.
But—
'I'll kill them. Kill them. Kill them.'
Just as Silvan's knights reached MacLaine's front line—
"Scatter!"
At the gray-haired mercenary's command, MacLaine's cavalry split left and right, evading the knights.
"Target the foot soldiers, not the knights!"
Callian gnashed his teeth at the infuriating order, but he and his knights couldn't turn back.
Because from the heart of the enemy formation, MacLaine's knights were now surging forward.
"Face me if you dare!"
A red-haired giant bellowed as a two-meter-long crimson Force Blade erupted from his sword.
'Force Blade!'
Before Callian could process what that meant, instinct made him abandon his horse and leap aside.
Swiish!
Splat!
"Aaah!"
The near-three-meter blade swept left and right, bisecting knights who had withstood the crossbow volley moments earlier.
"Peak-tier!"
As Silvan's knights paled in terror, seventy MacLaine knights cleanly split the 120-strong Silvan Knight Order in half.
"Annihilate them!"
At Patrick's roar, MacLaine's knights dismounted and charged without hesitation.
They swung their blades relentlessly at the still-outnumbering Silvan knights.
Clang!
"Guh!"
"Y-you bastards!"
"Die!"
Each strike carried overwhelming force, pressing the enemy back.
Momentum played a part, but MacLaine's knights were simply stronger.
"H-how...?"
Callian stood dumbfounded in the heart of the battlefield.
Henderson, a MacLaine knight already famed for his strength, swung his greatsword with exhilaration.
Power unlike anything he'd dreamed of six months ago surged through him.
Though he'd fought mid-tier monsters while clearing the monster forest, battling knights was a different thrill.
Now he was overwhelming two knights of his former level simultaneously.
The exhilaration fueled his strikes, his blade growing sharper with each swing.
Then—
Splat!
"Aaah!"
—as an enemy screamed, Henderson felt his Force surge by thirty percent.
And that he could wield it thirty percent more efficiently.
This was the sensation his seniors had described.
"Come at me!"
Now a Mid-Tier Knight mid-battle, Henderson roared as he sought his next target.
'Oh? Henderson too?'
Heinkel smiled as he watched several of his men ascend mid-combat.
'The lord's training was never in vain.'
The battle felt anything but desperate.
Perhaps sensing this, a Silvan knight snarled and swung at him.
"Let's see how long you keep smiling!"
Clang!
Movement on a different level from the average knights.
Five Mid-Tier Knights—likely Silvan's captains—surrounded Heinkel, yet they were the ones being pushed back.
"Tch. A High Knight?!"
"Captain Callian wasn't this strong..."
Heinkel smirked at their despairing mutters.
After mastering the Iron Blood Sword Technique and breaking through to High Knight, five Mid-Tiers were hardly a challenge.
If anything—
'Mid-Tier Knights are valuable.'
They might end up under his command, so he handled them gently(?).
At the same time, Heinkel scanned the battlefield for any threats to his allies.
Only one High Knight posed a danger.
With MacLaine's strongest weapon charging toward the castle, Heinkel was prepared to intervene if necessary—
But then he saw the red-haired youth streaking toward the enemy High Knight like a gust of wind and turned away with a smile.
'As long as these guys surrender peacefully, it's fine.'
The war was won.
A confident grin spread across Heinkel's face.