Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The Separate Detachment
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Whispers spread.
The soldiers murmured secretly as Killaban passed by.
A coward who fled the battlefield.
A thief who now seized command.
Various rumors circulated, but the hottest topic among the soldiers right now was something else.
"Lord Kallias..."
He plans to kill Killaban.
Such baseless gossip was spreading like wildfire.
With orcs potentially attacking at any moment, could discipline hold if such idle talk disrupted order?
A commander should immediately shout and restore discipline—that was one of their duties.
However.
Killaban could not do that.
"Lord Killaban, shouldn't we take action? Or at least show that wastrel what happens..."
One of the knights loyal to Killaban offered advice, but he ignored it.
"That's his scheme. Getting entangled would just play into his hands."
"Ah, I see."
But even as he said that, Killaban wasn't without worries.
Who knew if that wastrel might flip out and launch a surprise attack while he slept?
If he vanished, Kallias would become the next heir.
With even greater legitimacy!
"You don't look well, my lord."
"Ah, I stayed up reviewing documents until morning since I couldn't sleep. I'm a bit tired."
As he said, Killaban looked far from his best.
Dark circles reached his jaw, his eyes were bloodshot, his skin was dry and flaky, and his lips were cracked.
"But we can't just sit idle like this. If he truly aims for your life..."
"Of course, I have no intention of letting it slide. That's why I pulled an all-nighter."
"Then..."
"I've decided to form a separate detachment."
A unit moving apart from the main force, with Kallias as its captain.
"The orcs can't camp before Jaybarshu Castle forever. Food is their biggest issue."
Even if they foraged and hunted in the nearby woods, there were limits.
The same applied to the defenders of Jaybarshu, but orcs needed far more sustenance than humans. And they had to feed their magical beasts too.
In any case, supplies would arrive eventually. Forming a detachment to intercept or disrupt them would help greatly.
Of course.
The troops they could spare from the castle were limited, and it had to be a small force to avoid detection.
Kallias's knight order fit perfectly.
"They're barely a knight order—just a ragtag bunch—but a warlord must know how to use what he has."
Success was good. Failure was even better.
No more dealing with that thorn in his side, and it could be done legally.
'He's a pesky obstacle to my revenge on Elverton.'
Exterminate the orcs as soon as possible.
Then kill the ailing Elverton and become lord of Jaybarshu.
He couldn't let long-prepared ambitions fail over one wastrel.
"Summon the knights."
War had only just begun.
* * *
Behind the temporary barracks.
Kallias was spending time with Emily.
Clang! Scraaape!
"Good. You're doing well."
Ignoring the summons, he trained alone when Emily appeared with the Lucien he'd given her, leading naturally to a spar.
"Like this?"
"Yes."
Clang!
Sparks flew spectacularly.
'It's only been two weeks since piercing the sacred blood.'
For that, she'd assimilated a considerable amount of holy power as her own.
Her technique in wielding it and condensing it into one were progressing nicely.
It was hard to believe she was just a ten-year-old girl—Emily was a sword genius.
She could already hold her own against average knights without losing easily.
Absorbing real combat experience and advice from Bernard and Kallias, her strikes blended sharpness and softness, forging her own style.
Of course, it still needed refinement, but she'd clearly become a great knight soon.
"Haa, huu... How was that?"
"Usable."
But contrary to his thoughts.
The words from Kallias's mouth were utterly curt.
One might expect praise.
Yet for some reason, it felt hard.
Would a single compliment make her arrogant?
Would she get hurt on the battlefield? Such worries made every word cautious.
Thus, his responses were concise, enough to dim the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes with disappointment.
"Thanks... for the sword."
"I don't need it anymore."
"I still like it."
Kallias's nose twitched.
The sparring atmosphere turned warm in an instant.
That warmth felt terribly awkward.
"What's that around your neck?"
"This? The horn trumpet I made from that unicorn we caught last time. Cool, right? When the battle starts, I'll blow this. The sound is super loud and epic. Wanna hear?"
"..."
Emily proudly caressed and boasted about it, leaving him unsure what to say.
Why didn't the wastrel trait activate at times like this?
She's a Jerban too.
'Even so, maybe he doesn't want to show his daughter a wastrel side.'
Truly inscrutable.
It was then.
A presence approached, caught by Kallias's senses.
"What's the matter, old man?"
The presence was Bernard.
"Why ignore the summons?"
"Didn't feel like going."
"Thanks to you, you and your knights are now the separate detachment."
Kallias's lips twisted knowingly.
"Just what I wanted."
"You madman. That eager to die? Disobeying orders in wartime means summary execution—don't you know?"
"I do."
"You knew and still...?"
"Because you can't kill me anyway."
"...Got some guts, I see."
Killaban couldn't.
Cracking down on discipline would only embarrass him more if Kallias caused a scene.
Killaban couldn't touch Kallias, legitimate blood of the Jerbans.
No matter the disowned wastrel, he was Elverton's line and a son of the church.
"What do I need to do?"
"See for yourself."
Swish.
Thud.
His ash-gray eyes scanned quickly.
Emily, curious, stood on tiptoes and chattered asking what it was.
The parchment read:
"Steal their supplies."
"Uh... Isn't that good?"
Gifted with sword talent, she was still childlike about this.
"It's good. Perfect for dying."
What did defending the castle mean?
Isolation.
Orcs camped before the gates, ready to strike anytime.
Sneak out past their eyes to destroy or seize supplies?
No different from telling them to go die outside.
Success good, failure better.
"When the gates crack open for a brief sally from our side, the detachment advances north to draw their gaze."
Be bait to split their attention.
No different from a death sentence, but he didn't care.
It was what he wanted from the start.
In Jaybarshu, the wastrel trait surged uncontrollably.
Better to operate outside separately.
Risky enough to die if careless.
But war was just beginning.
'Time to wrap up the quest too.'
Kallias gripped his sword hilt tightly.
For S-rank quest reward, special conditions remained.
'Orc Great Warrior.'
Battle with Keltuk unfinished.
If they met this time.
He'd end it then.
"You coming too, old man?"
"Can't. Got my own orders."
"Figured as much."
Killaban wouldn't leave a strong paladin like Bernard idle.
Decisive battle in three days.
Kallias already anticipated it eagerly.
* * *
Three days later.
Kallias spoke calmly to his watching knights.
"Those who want to live, stay. Those who want to die with me, follow."
Strange.
Kallias headed for the closed gates.
But his knights followed without hesitation.
"You've got a knack for people, huh."
"Seems so. For a wastrel."
Killaban strode up beside Kallias at the front and glanced at the knights behind.
Through big and small battles, the White Forest wandering knights had become proper knights.
True knights with boundless faith and loyalty to Kallias.
Killaban sneered enviously at them.
They'd die anyway.
No need to dwell.
"Open the gates."
"Opening the gates!"
"Open!"
Ruuuuumble!
Pulleys turned by soldiers, iron gates groaning and shaking open.
Before them, a green wave waited.
Kallias drew his sword without hesitation. Killaban did the same.
"You said you'd kill me—looks like you'll die first."
"Time will tell."
Had he forgotten his own position?
Knowing the mission, how could he stay so calm?
Killaban bit his lip hard.
Bwooooooo—!
The unicorn horn trumpet blared grandly.
Signaling Kallias's sortie.
"Nice sound."
"Yeah? Emily's horn trumpet."
"Emily?"
His face bright for heading to possible death.
As Killaban pondered who Emily was, he spotted the young girl.
Clutching the horn trumpet.
"Still alive?"
He thought she'd been crushed by the wheel.
"Expect it, Killaban."
"What?"
As Kallias marched out the gates, he called back.
"The day I leave these gates again and return here."
That day.
"Will be the day your head falls."
Gulp. Killaban swallowed dryly despite himself and forced a smirk.
"Die heroically. For Jerban blood, we'll give you a swordman's funeral. Though your corpse might not be intact."
Pathetic mockery.
Kallias gazed impassively and replied.
"Survive to the end. I'll claim your head myself."
Thwack!
Red cape billowing, Kallias advanced amid spraying blood.
The blood was green.
Orc blood fountained.
Moments later.
After a wide detour, pursued by orcs, before Kallias.
A massive great warrior blocked his path.