III. How to Crush Rock (3)
III. How to Crush Rock (3)
Baron Yaven showed no mercy to the captured mounted bandits.
The four surviving bandits were sentenced to hang by the furious baron, and their necks were immediately strung up on a large tree at the entrance to Yalta Village.
"Serves you right!"
"Filthy bandits!"
The villagers of Yalta each picked up stones and hurled them at the bandits. The bandits hanging from the tree thrashed for a while, then went limp.
Every time a stone flew from the crowd, the corpses of the bandits swayed from side to side.
"You did the right thing, my lord."
Sir Werner, riding alongside Keldric, spoke.
He was staring at the bandits dangling like fruit from the tree, without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow.
"The plundering of the surrounding villages and the murder or maiming of your good subjects are grave crimes. It is only proper to punish them severely."
"...Yeah."
"In that sense, defeating those bandits and capturing them alive is a fine achievement. It will serve as a lesson to the domain's people, and thanks to it, Lord Yaven has saved face."
Keldric nodded, his expression somewhat bitter.
It wasn't as if he could view the matter particularly negatively; in this era, making the execution of criminals a public spectacle was exceedingly common.
At times, extreme methods were necessary to lower the crime rate, and the lords of each region used public executions to deliver warnings and lessons to their subjects.
In the end, those men were mercenaries who, defeated in a territorial war, had changed their profession to banditry.
And theft and murder meant hanging, one hundred times out of one hundred.
"Anyway, let's get moving ourselves."
Sir Werner slowly spurred his horse forward. Keldric, too, urged Boreas on and fell in beside him.
"Ugh, shit... I get the creeps every time I see that."
"Get the creeps? That's what happens when you pull stupid crap like banditry."
"Nobody I know who pulled that shit lived to get out of it."
The Ram Mercenary Company and Jorgen, following behind the two, also muttered among themselves while looking at the bandits' corpses.
However they met their end, those bandits had once been mercenaries themselves.
It was just that, midway, they had chosen to switch trades to the business of banditry.
Keldric glanced at Alisa, who was riding beside him.
Fully prepared, Alisa wore an expressionless face. As if there were nothing special to see, she stared straight ahead, not even sparing the bandits a glance.
'Rock trolls... I wonder if fire will work well on them.'
Harboring a slight worry, Keldric rode on alongside Sir Werner.
Baron Yaven needed to go to Carlton Village, and Keldric couldn't simply ignore a baron in distress and pass him by.
Keldric intended to deal with the rock trolls as quickly as possible.
That was why, immediately after dealing with the mounted bandits, he had taken the Ram Mercenary Company and Alisa and set out with Sir Werner.
"Sir Keldric."
"Hm?"
"On the way, might I have a word?"
Keldric looked at Sir Werner riding alongside him.
His face was oddly serious, making it difficult for Keldric to refuse outright.
"I don't know what this is about... but if that's what you wish."
"Thank you."
It wasn't far to the place where the rock trolls had settled, but it was at least enough time for a brief chat.
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"A long time ago, I once met Sir Volfen."
Sir Werner's opening words were not just unexpected—they were utterly removed from anything Keldric had anticipated.
Keldric nodded, his expression bewildered.
He couldn't even begin to guess why Sir Werner was suddenly bringing up Sir Volfen.
"Sir Keldric. How much do you know about the Holy Land Reconquest Campaign?"
"About as much as the next man, I suppose."
"That alone is not enough. It's been over twenty years now."
To put it kindly, he was seasoned; unkindly, aged. Sir Werner was nearing fifty.
He had received his knighthood around the age of twenty, and just a few years later, he had thrown himself into the Holy Land Reconquest.
Keldric began to listen intently.
He had heard bits and pieces about the crusade from Jorgen, but hearing it from the lips of a knight who had actually taken part was on a different level entirely.
"Are you aware that the expedition originated with the Papacy?"
"I believe I've heard as much."
"It was a time when crusader armies were being organized across the continent. The Kingdom of Britas united with the Kingdom of the Franks, and we received reinforcements from the Papacy and the Avalonchne Republic."
The expedition to reclaim the Holy Land drew volunteers, clergymen, nobles, and knights from all over the continent.
Under the single conviction of reclaiming the Holy Land, or under the belief that one might receive God's love by taking part in its reclamation.
Or else, to follow the scent of coin and make a quick fortune.
"Among them, there was Sir Volfen."
Sir Werner's expression grew wistful. He was already reminiscing about the crusade path from over twenty years ago.
"Sir Volfen was an excellent knight. He was the only son of his house, so there was no issue of succession, yet he was a man who deliberately set out on a campaign he need not have joined."
Keldric felt an odd emotion.
The Sir Volfen he had faced in his life had always been a man of few words, sometimes stern, and on the whole, a sober character who never stirred up needless trouble.
Yet here was someone who, already designated the heir of House Bellaf, had been reckless and hot-blooded enough to plunge headlong into the Holy Land Reconquest.
Since it happened well over twenty years ago, this was the first Keldric, now eighteen, had ever heard of it.
"Why did you take part in the expedition?"
"Are you asking me? Or Sir Volfen?"
"Both. You, and my father."
"I, well..."
Sir Werner fell silent for a moment. Keldric waited quietly.
The sound of clopping hooves stretched on, and just when the yawning of the mercenaries following behind began to grow long and lazy.
"In this world, there are those who insist on doing a thing even when there is no need."
Sir Werner finally spoke.
"I was merely one of them. I was very hot-blooded back then."
Though he need not have gone on the campaign, the hot-blooded Sir Werner, around twenty years old at the time, had taken part.
Many joined the expedition with impure motives, but Sir Werner harbored no other intent and devoted himself solely to recapturing the Holy Land.
When other knights and nobles massacred captured heathens, Sir Werner mercifully released them.
It was thanks to that deed that the heathen army released the captured people when the briefly occupied holy city eventually fell.
Sir Werner was a man whose true nature never strayed from his reputation. A man of sufficient martial prowess and a person of integrity, free from greed.
"Sir Volfen, however, was not a man led purely by hot blood, as I was. He was a knight who joined the crusader army with his eyes fixed solely on the reclamation of the Holy Land."
Yet at times, his tales were mixed with words that Keldric could not understand.
Keldric imagined Sir Volfen, overcome by a piety exceeding his station, his eyes ablaze with zeal for the Holy Land.
'...That doesn't seem right.'
It didn't suit him at all. Keldric tilted his head with a subtle expression.
"I'm not sure. Was my father that kind of a man?"
"Indeed, people are bound to change as the years go by. It's no wonder you don't understand."
At those words, Keldric's thoughts grew deeper.
Sir Werner's story set Keldric's mind turning over many things.
It wasn't for some nauseatingly sentimental reason, like 'because stories about his beloved father came up.'
'Please... fulfill my long-cherished wish...'
Keldric recalled the last words Sir Volfen had left behind.
He now had the feeling he knew what that long-cherished wish was.
Yet it was like a leaf fluttering in the wind, seemingly within grasp but slipping away, and Keldric had to ponder for a long while as he rode Boreas.
"It seems we are almost there."
By the time Sir Werner's voice reached him, they were already in front of the banks of the Ronaun River.
Keldric quickly shook off his musings. The matter of Sir Volfen was something he could think about later.
"Let's get started."
It was time to work.
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The cave where the rock trolls had settled was a stone's throw from the riverbank.
Keldric studied the rocky area, blanketed in snow, with keen attention.
Set into the middle of a cliff-like formation, the gaping cave gave off a strange noise, as if a witch who lured in passersby lived within.
"That's the sound of the wind being sucked in. It is a bit stronger today."
Sir Werner muttered offhandedly as he adjusted his helmet.
With his chainmail coif protruding like a crow's beak from his bascinet, Sir Werner cut an unmistakably intimidating figure.
Even his helmet was pitch-black, truly earning him the nickname Crow.
"You had best prepare yourself as well."
Sir Werner addressed Keldric, holding a shield in one hand and an axe in the other.
It was not a common hand axe, but a battle axe.
Though it was an edged weapon, its use was in practice closer to a blunt instrument, making it well-suited to the situation.
Not to be outdone, Keldric drew the mace hanging from his belt.
He was a bit uneasy that its handle was made of wood, but if he controlled his strength properly, it didn't seem likely he would break it.
Once the two knights had drawn their weapons, the mercenaries standing around tightened their grips on their spears, their faces tense.
Through the eye-slits of his helm, Keldric glared at the cave, shrouded in pitch-blackness.
"The wizard?"
"Alisa. Are you ready?"
"Ready."
Having lit three or four campfires alongside a couple of mercenaries, Alisa wore a composed expression.
Last time, she had been left wheezing after a single spell, and she seemed determined to redeem herself this time.
Keldric gripped the mace tight in his hand. He had no intention of letting his guard down, either.
"Sir Werner. Shall we draw the beasts out?"
"It would be best to light a fire at the entrance and let the smoke drift in. Once the smoke chokes them, they will come running out."
"What if we simply block the entrance?"
"I doubt that would work. Rock trolls would smash through even a sealed entrance and burst out. Rather than go to all that trouble, it is better just to lure them outside."
There was no fault in Sir Werner's words, so Keldric nodded quietly.
To begin with, Keldric had never actually faced a rock troll himself.
It was wiser to follow the lead of Sir Werner, who had fought them several times.
At Jorgen's command, several mercenaries hefted torches and dry straw and approached the cave entrance.
Though they walked with stealthy steps, there was no sign of anything stirring from within.
'Did they run off?'
According to Baron Yaven, the rock trolls had a record of moving all the way from the mining village.
The possibility that they had moved elsewhere overnight also needed to be taken into account.
The mercenaries piled a heap of straw at the cave entrance and promptly set it alight.
"Prepare yourselves."
Sir Werner whispered, gripping his axe tightly. Keldric nodded silently.
A grisly creak echoed from the grip of Keldric's fist around his mace.
"They're coming out!"
The near-scream of the mercenaries standing at the entrance came almost at the same moment a thudding vibration was felt.
Keldric waited in silence.
Alisa's magic couldn't strip away their rock-like skin entirely, so for the magic and mercenaries' spears to land properly, the roles of Keldric and Sir Werner were crucial.
"They've emerged!"
The smoke that had been nearly sucked into the cave was violently torn apart. An arm, encased in stone, pushed through the smoke and revealed itself.
Without waiting for the other, Keldric and Sir Werner seized their weapons and burst forward.
About the time the two reached the cave's mouth, the rock trolls tearing through the smoke finally showed themselves.
Their frames were three times Keldric's size, their bodies encrusted with hard rock like barnacles, and their small eyes bloodshot and deep red.
Three rock trolls had revealed themselves.
Eyes bloodshot from the smoke, the rock trolls blinked ceaselessly and bellowed in all directions.
In that moment, Keldric swung his mace flat-out.
"Kwoooaah—?!"
Chips of stone sprayed in every direction, and the rock troll clutched its cracked stone skin, howling in agony.
But Keldric paid it no mind.
'This is my chance!'
He had no intention of waiting for a weakened opponent to regain its strength.