Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Premature Dawn
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The dawn broke prematurely.
And beneath the sunlight rising in the sky, not a single orc that had survived intact remained.
The army, steeling itself for full-scale battle and drawing their weapons, had finally annihilated them all.
But as we reformed our ranks and began our return, we did not raise any hasty cheers of victory.
We simply bowed our heads solemnly in the wake of triumph, carrying our fallen comrades who had guarded my side until death and the wounded back to the village.
“Gaaah! Aaaah!!”
“Just hold on a bit longer, you bastard!”
The young men, now soldiers, pinned down the one writhing in agony with their entire bodies.
And they pulled out the orc arrows as quickly as possible, staunching the gushing blood.
How deeply had it embedded? Blood kept welling up endlessly from the wound.
The youth screamed as if the village itself might shatter, but the pain did not fade.
The horrific spectacle brought by war.
As painful as wounds inflicted by blades was the helplessness of watching a comrade—a friend and neighbor—suffer.
In the end, one of the soldiers from the same unit covered his bloodied face with tears streaming down.
The stress crashing in after the battle was far too thick to witness it all with a clear mind.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
A blue hand approached me as I stared blankly at the scene, bringing bandages to clean the wound.
It seemed he’d been slashed by a blind swing amid the fierce melee with the orc bastards.
But I refused the clean bandages, roughly washing the wound with water from my canteen instead.
There were far too many places ahead where these bandages would be needed for something like this.
I gave a wry smile and asked Blue Hand, who was putting the bandages away.
“Any that got away?”
“No, they’re all dead. And we found correspondence exchanged with their main force on one of the orc corpses. They’ve already advanced pretty close.”
Good. We’ve got their position.
Now we just send scouts to the vicinity of their main camp to check their next moves, when they’ll attack.
Tonight would be perfect timing.
I’d created sufficient conditions for war before the Gray Wolf returned. With a small sigh, I rose and headed to the barracks.
Blue Hand followed with quick steps, asking with a puzzled expression.
“Milord, you don’t seem happy.”
“...Happy about what?”
“We beat orcs in open field combat, no less. You know it too—this is a massive victory.”
The soldiers were militia-level, and the mobilized huskarls were generous at best with just one or two years under their belts.
Yet we’d wiped out an orc scouting party that lived for war, despite our lacking forces.
In open battle, no less—not a favorable siege or ambush.
Yes, we fought well and won splendidly.
I humbly accepted the victory, but suddenly realized one fact.
“I guess I’m getting old.”
I’d been through two battlefields since meeting Snow-Covered.
And in both, I’d led the soldiers myself, always at the vanguard.
Glorious victories.
Armies roaring in cheers.
All of it no different from the countless wars I’d fought as a squire.
Yet strangely, the world remained the same, but the feelings it stirred in me rocked like waves.
What did that mean?
Ah, right.
Just as swords rust, so had Broken Sword rusted.
I touched my stubbly beard, newly sensing the years that had passed over my convictions.
It felt like flipping through a thick book to open one of its final remaining chapters.
I asked Blue Hand,
“Do you have a family?”
“Mm, not yet.”
“If you find a good match, you should settle down. Wandering’s gotten tiresome, hasn’t it?”
If killers like me could have simple joys like a happy home, then so should he.
Having realized that anew, I walked ahead after those words.
“If it’s just one, a daughter would be nice.”
“...Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
Blue Hand looked utterly baffled.
“Total... annihilation?”
The scouts dispatched first yesterday had sent a messenger confirming the village’s location.
Tigr had naturally rejoiced, praising their merit and ordering a swift return to join the main force.
But no reply came.
The returned messenger had found a pile of charred corpses at the scouts’ position.
Total annihilation, not a single survivor.
Tigr couldn’t contain the dizzying shock and rage, slamming his fist on the chair.
Bam!
Every warrior was precious now.
Yet his elite scouts—all of them—were gone, leaving a massive gap in their already thin camp forces.
Those damn humans he could chew up and it wouldn’t be enough.
Tigr, who’d already forsaken his remaining pride for survival, abandoned patience too.
“Bring my armor and sword!”
“Yes!”
The humans’ strength he’d dismissed as laughable was revealed.
But even if they’d wiped the scouts, he still had the main force.
To the village’s supposed location: two days at forced march.
Perfect time to grind his bile for his brothers who hadn’t died honorably.
Armored and gripping his massive sword, Tigr stormed out of the tent with hot snorts.
He issued commands to the sergeants awaiting with stern faces.
“Regna! Have the slaves build ladders! We siege the moment we reach their village!”
“Yes, Tigr!”
“Ogra! Take the cavalry and check for fleeing humans!”
“Understood, Tigr!”
No more retreating.
He’d salt as many human necks as possible and proudly show his brothers what he was capable of.
Striding forward confidently, Tigr bellowed at the warriors ready to march, shaking the earth.
“We march on! Time to show those pathetic humans what real war is!”
Whoo! Whoo!
Ewah-ah-----!!!!
Thick steel armor, hefty weapons that could pulp flesh whole.
Hundreds of orcs’ war cries shook the quiet north.
Clack, clack, clack, clack.
Sergeants moved to positions, leading their units forward.
Unlike the main force’s nimble pace before, they surged like a green wave ready to sweep the enemy camp.
The northmen-orc war, expected in a year, opened its curtain a bit early.
And that night, the human scouts from the village confirmed the orc main force’s advance.
“...They brought their entire camp.”
“I-is that true?”
We’d predicted their main force’s route from the letters they carried.
Soon after, our scouts spotted the advancing orcs—far exceeding expectations.
Total size: the whole camp.
Headcount alone over three times our soldiers.
All seasoned orc warriors armed with steel weapons.
“H-ha, merciful gods...”
The patrol captain, hearing the report, clutched his forehead in vertigo.
If a veteran like him reacted this way, imagine the villagers and soldiers.
Once the orc main force encircled the palisade, plenty would panic.
But as no paradise lay in flight for northern men, retreat meant death.
I asked Blue Hand,
“How many arrows?”
“Nearly half a year’s stock—plenty. Plenty of javelins with tips too.”
“Villagers?”
“Ready to mobilize anytime. They know it’s over if we fall.”
At least the Gray Wolf, who’d developed the village, had prepared diligently for war.
Sturdy palisade repaired over a year, arrows and javelins enough for all-day barrage.
No matter how numerous or strong the foe, this was defensive siege on familiar ground.
This war? We had a shot.
I inhaled deeply, exhaled, and declared firmly to those gathered in the hall.
“A war we can’t avoid. Conscript every villager who can hold a spear. Non-combatants to the hall for shelter.”
Without unity of heart and mind, cohesion would shatter instantly.
I ordered conscription and food requisitions, shifting the village to wartime footing.
Tension was thick on every face.
We ended the final meeting with salute fists over left breasts.
But then, amid the hall’s heavy silence, uproarious cheers erupted outside.
“The l-lord! The lord’s back!”
“Waaaaaa-----!!”
The first joyful roars in a village filled with despairing news.
The Gray Wolf and his disciples had crossed the mountains a day early, sooner than tomorrow’s expected arrival.
Clatter!
Startled by the sudden cheers, we rushed out without a word.
We pushed through the surging villagers toward the village gate just opening.
Screeech, thud!
Sentries relit paused torches, welcoming the returning lord.
But my eyes sought first not the Gray Wolf, but the smallest, feistiest shadow among those entering: Snow-Covered.
Thank goodness she’s safe.
I sighed in relief watching her stride eagerly on her own feet.
“Master!!”
Easy there, you’ll trip.
As I spotted Snow-Covered, she spotted me welcoming her.
And true to form, she darted like a squirrel, grabbing my lapels with both hands.
“Huff, huff...”
I gazed quietly down at the panting child with a faint smile.
Eyes sparkling like stars lighting the night sky, lips twitching as if bursting to say much.
Though short, her training with the Gray Wolf had sharpened her spirit, making it clearer and brighter.
After much deliberation, Snow-Covered ended by calling my name.
“Master.”
“Yes.”
Unharmed—that was enough.
I stroked the now-grinning girl’s head, shaking off the worries I’d piled up.
Then, amid the villagers’ cheers, the Gray Wolf approached with steady steps.
His majestic figure unchanged from distant past to now.
Murmurs died instantly as he called me in his grave voice.
“Broken Sword.”
“...Gray Wolf.”
Truth be told, he had plenty to rebuke me for.
Even in crisis, acting lord in his stead to my own tastes was fact.
The principle-bound Gray Wolf wouldn’t overlook it.
Knowing this, the patrol captain and Blue Hand rushed to defend me.
“Milord! It’s not what you think!”
“We’ll explain everything!”
“Enough. I know.”
The Gray Wolf firmly raised a hand, barring their approach.
A sigh of pity from somewhere summed up the moment.
Exile, then?
I steeled myself, quietly patting the anxious Snow-Covered.
It’s fine. I chose this path prepared.
Only regretting leaving the job unfinished.
“Thank you.”
“...What?”
But his following words shattered all resignation.
Startled, I looked—there the Gray Wolf bowed to me.
“If you hadn’t stepped up, so many more would’ve died or been wounded. Truly... I thank you sincerely, Broken Sword.”
Prejudices built over years toward others began crumbling.
Including the colored lens I’d viewed the Gray Wolf through for ages.
Understanding why I’d acted, he showed flexibility for the first time.
The subtle wall between us shook like thin glass.
“-----.”
I met his gaze.
In the wolf’s calm eyes, I saw genuine care for the village and its people.
This settled life you built over a year wasn’t mere pastime or greed.
‘Guess I’m getting old too.’
The hero who once commanded battlefields was gone; only the aged knight remained.
But time took only bodily memories—the hot heart that soared the north still beat.
The Gray Wolf, northerner before hero, showed me respect.
He extended a thick hand, pleading.
“No face to ask for help. But for the village and people, lend your sword once more.”
Yes, that’s how we banded together.
Under great cause, to let us northern outcasts live humanely.
I felt the grudges and misunderstandings with the wolf melt like spring snow.
Thud!
I clasped his hand.
Shoulders bumped like old times, recalling the surging emotions forgotten these eight years.