Friend or Foe - 4
I raced for the Sarei Frontline with the Mukgwangdae at my side. However relatively small the unit might be, a unit was still a unit. Operating together with me, they could shift the balance of the front in a meaningful way. With a little luck we might even run down Dorgon as he tried to slip away and put him in the ground.
The moment I arrived, however, the sight of the Family Head tumbling from his horse forced me to revise the plan on the spot. If the Family Head was already combat-ineffective, the objective had to change from pursuit to a successful repulse.
We're not too late.
I let out an unthinking sigh of relief. My heart had lurched when I saw him fall, but he still had enough awareness to try to protect his head.
We hadn't arrived at the perfect moment, yet we had avoided the worst. However grave the wounds, so long as he lived he could recover.
"Get the Family Head and Marshal Hiden clear of the field."
"Yes, sir."
At my order the 4th Section Chief answered briefly and sprinted toward the Family Head and the former Count of Horfelt. Just as I fretted over the safety of my father, from her perspective the Family Head was her father-in-law. I trusted she would guard him with everything she had.
The only remaining worry was Dorgon still loitering near him—
"Oh."
He must have spotted me; the corner of his mouth curled up and he changed direction.
"You've come, Crasius Karl!"
As Dorgon charged brandishing a strange wooden stick, I drew my sword. Why he insisted on fighting with a piece of nature when he had a perfectly serviceable blade I had no idea, but if he wanted to hobble himself I saw no reason to object.
In the middle of it all I was faintly grateful he hadn't finished the Family Head off just to provoke me. Had Dorgon been serious, my father would have died right in front of me.
"Long time no see, you fatherless bastard!"
Gratitude was gratitude, of course, and a fight was a fight. If I was going to lock horns with Dorgon I needed to rattle him even a little.
Fortunately, from Dorgon's point of view I was living aggro itself. Even a light flick of the tongue gave me any number of ways to get under his skin.
"If living alone is so lonely, go die and visit your family already! Why are you trying to make more orphans?!"
At those words Dorgon's smile only deepened. It was the first time I'd seen a bastard smile after getting his parentage insulted.
"Your mother would be sad to hear that! Even if your father is dead you still have your mother—so you're no orphan!"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
My brain locked up for a second. That counter was insane.
But while my head froze, my body moved on instinct. Dorgon was already in my face, swinging the wooden rod; I swung my sword to meet it.
"Tsk."
He tossed aside the rod that had been sheared clean in half and retreated several steps.
An obvious result. Neither of us could be confident of overwhelming the other even at full strength; fighting with a stick that wasn't even a sword was the act of someone with neither conscience nor intelligence.
"It was something I rather liked. Shame."
Regrettably, it seemed Dorgon still possessed both conscience and intelligence; without much attachment he drew the sword from his waist.
This bastard. He knew from the start it wouldn't work—why the hell had he been prancing around with a stick?
"So you did have a proper one. The way you were waving that stick around I thought you'd lost it sleeping rough somewhere."
"Heh. And why does your sword look like that? Is decorating blades with rust the fashion in the Empire these days?"
I threw another taunt as he settled into stance; he snorted a laugh and fired back.
The moment I heard the reply, the corners of my mouth lifted on their own. Exactly the answer I wanted.
"Maybe it turned red from drinking your old man's blood."
At an even more spectacular insult to his parentage, Dorgon's eyes sharpened.
Yes—earlier I had insulted the orphan; this time the target was Kagan, whom I had killed. Of course his eyes would go wild. If he had laughed that one off as well, the bastard would have gone down in history as a parricidal monster.
"Congratulations. Your father may be dead, but his blood is with this sword, so this sword is as good as your father. It's been a while since the family reunion."
I did not miss the chance to keep running my mouth. I did not particularly enjoy this kind of crude provocation at my age, but given the opponent I could not afford to be picky about means. If I could shake Dorgon's mental state at the cost of my own dignity, it was a profitable trade.
"Ah, come to think of it—since I'm the one handling your father, that makes me your grandfather, doesn't it?"
"That mouth of yours still sounds like it's been dunked in filthy water."
Even Dorgon, who had shown no reaction until then, apparently could not tolerate getting both generations insulted at once; he opened his mouth in a somewhat irritated voice.
Still, the way he composed his expression so quickly proved that bastard was not normal either. Most people would never have reached the second generation—they would have flipped out at the family reunion bit.
"This is really too one-sided a fight. One of us lost his parents, while the other only lost a few friends and that was that."
At Dorgon's counter, smile restored, I bit my lip. Just because I could work my tongue flashily did not make me immune to the other man's rhetoric.
The silver lining was that while we stalled with words the Mukgwangdae had secured the Family Head and the former Count of Horfelt. Seeing the 4th Section Chief wave a hand from behind Dorgon to signal put my mind at ease. We were still in combat, but aside from Dorgon no one could punch through the Mukgwangdae—they were safe.
And now that the Family Head was safe, there was nothing left to hesitate over.
"Can't be helped. Still, you'll get to see your parents soon enough, so don't feel too bad."
I would engage this bastard here. Contrary to plan it was a one-on-one standoff with neither the Family Head, the former Count of Horfelt, nor the Mukgwangdae—but it did not matter. If anything, ending this grudge with him by my own strength alone was something to welcome.
"I don't know about that. Getting to see my grandfather as well makes me not particularly eager to meet them right away. What about you—don't you miss your friends? As I recall, without them you don't have any friends at all."
Dorgon seemed to feel the same; he lightly stepped his left foot forward. Lowering his body a little, he looked ready to charge straight in and clash head-on.
Earlier the stick charge had not been threatening, but a full-power frontal collision with Dorgon could snap an arm from the very start. If I took the hit and counterattacked, I could break Dorgon's arm the same way—
—Buoooooooooo—!!
A horn blast that smothered the noise of the battlefield cut my thoughts short.
"Tch."
At that sound Dorgon clicked his tongue and adjusted his stance.
"Regrettable, but now isn't the time. We just wasted our breath and it's over."
"What?"
Anyone could tell from the remark that he meant to withdraw; I furrowed my brow. The bastard was so good at slipping away he deserved the name "Runrgon," but I never expected him to bolt after meeting me without even crossing swords once.
"You came at an awkward time. If you'd arrived later I wouldn't have seen your face and could have left without lingering regret. If earlier, we might have clashed at least a little."
From the thick regret on Dorgon's face it seemed genuine, not a joke.
This dog of a bastard. True to a pup that serves wolves, he acted like a canine beast too.
"You think I'll just let you go?"
"Of course the Crasius Karl I know would doggedly stick to me."
Watching him shrug as if stating the obvious made my teeth grind. I wanted nothing more than to land one solid punch on that face.
"But if it's not Warrior Crasius Karl, but Son Crasius Karl—then I think you'd give up."
At the words that followed I could not answer. The Family Head was under the Mukgwangdae's protection now. The Family Head himself was a strong warrior; even wounded he could hold out a good while.
But if I pinned Dorgon down, the nomads who were starting to withdraw would keep fighting, and treatment for the Family Head would be delayed that much longer. Of course there was no shortage of mages or priests on this Sarei Frontline, yet abandoning offense to pour everything into healing in the middle of a chaotic melee was practically suicide.
A fight with Dorgon whose duration I could not guarantee. And during that time, no treatment for—yet withdrawing from the frontline would hurt the soldiers' morale for the Family Head.
...
"Get lost."
"Excellent judgment."
Nodding as if satisfied, Dorgon mounted the horse that had approached him.
Damn it—should I just kill the horse and give him fall damage? No. If he fell in peak condition rather than wounded he would simply stand up on both feet like nothing had happened. Provoke him needlessly and he might go crazy and charge the Family Head and the Mukgwangdae.
"Well then, I'll be off. Today wasn't the day, but next time let's fight properly."
I glared after the retreating Dorgon, then quickly swept the battlefield with my eyes. After the horn the nomads were beginning their withdrawal.
These bastards are the enemy.
Not simply gathered under the Khan's name, but firm pro-war tribes who fought alongside the Khan. The tribes present here were best regarded as the anti-Imperial faction prepared to die fighting the Empire.
Conversely, those who had not even shown themselves in a battle personally commanded by the Khan were likely the faction ready to join the Empire. They could no longer be called neutral.
Friend-or-foe identification is complete.
Memorizing the flags the horsemen carried, I let out a sigh. A shitty conclusion, but in that we had finished identifying friend and foe there had been some results after all.
I decided to think of it that way. If I called it a battle with no results whatsoever, my insides would explode.
As the nomads withdrew, mages and priests came swarming in. They must have seen the Family Head and former Count of Horfelt facing the Khan. Their loyalty was high, all right.
"There must be plenty of wounded—are all these people gathering just to treat two? Get back to your posts at once."
The parties themselves, though, sent most of them back, leaving only two, complaining about how many had come.
"Family Head."
"Karl."
Approaching the Family Head, who had just removed his upper garments to show his wounds to a mage, he turned his head slightly and met my gaze.
"I'm glad you're safe."
Not the words one should say to someone wounded and under treatment, but saying "I'm glad you didn't die" in the middle of a war felt unsettling. Especially to someone who had been at death's door.
"Thanks to you. If you hadn't come, that bastard would have killed me."
I could only manage a bitter smile at that. The thought made me dizzy too. If I had given up on coming to the Sarei Frontline, or arrived even a little later, an irreversible disaster would have struck.
I kneaded the back of my neck for a moment, then turned my gaze to the former Count of Horfelt. I was at a loss for what more to say, and it was not only the Family Head who had been wounded.
"I'm relieved that Marshal Hiden appears unharmed as well."
"I think so too. If I'd died, Zenobia wouldn't even have made me a grave."
I snorted a laugh at the half-joking words. This was his own way of expressing thanks, I supposed.
"That aside, your tongue was quite colorful."
"Ah."
My body froze for an instant.
"Yes, shaking the enemy's mind is a form of tactics too! Excellent!"
Ignoring the former Count of Horfelt, who burst out laughing so hard the wound he had just had closed tore open again, I carefully turned my eyes to the Family Head. No matter that it had been for psychological attack, I had become the son who spat parentage insults in front of his father.
"I'm grateful to you as well. Thanks to you, I made it through safely."
"Y-you're too kind!"
And I could see the Family Head carefully avoiding my gaze as he expressed his thanks to the 4th Section Chief.
Apparently the Family Head was confused in more ways than one as well.
Damn it.
This is all Dorgon's fault.