Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Ambush at the Selezia Colony
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It was an enormous decision. For an ordinary person, the mere fact of being insulted in front of his subordinates would have warranted immediate execution, and then some.
However, like it or not, he was the blood of his most respected lord. How could he possibly draw his sword so rashly?
Besides, he was currently en route to carry out his lord's mission. To see that mission through safely, for the greater good, he resolved to brush off the personal slight with a mere "apology."
He had come with such ironclad determination. Yet this greenhorn tilted his head in a most suspicious manner and spat out a single remark.
"Don't wanna?"
What, don't want to? Just as he was on the verge of exploding, the greenhorn's mouth opened again.
"...Speak."
...He looked ready to snap. Must've been my imagination. Fortunately, my mouth moved faster than Beskin's reflexes.
"As a knight, between the kingdom and the family—which comes first?"
"...A foolish question. The family forms the pillars of the kingdom, and the kingdom is the roof sheltering the family. Thus, what serves the family serves the kingdom, and vice versa. How could one even rank them?"
"Then, if a conflict arises between the kingdom's interests and the family's—which would you prioritize, sir?"
At my words, Beskin halted his outburst and pondered for a moment before speaking resolutely.
"...I would prioritize the family. This body's steadfast loyalty belongs solely to Bacchus von Carviot, ruler of Banten."
"Good. Your loyalty is crystal clear, sir. Let me ask once more. If an opportunity arises where the kingdom's and family's interests align—how would you handle it?"
"I would carry it out with utmost willingness."
I nodded at his response.
"Beskin, what I'm about to do is precisely that."
"......?"
"You'll understand naturally tomorrow. Beskin—look far ahead and think far ahead. Blindly obeying the master's every whim is something even guard dogs can manage."
"......!"
"Did you take that as an insult? No—if I'd explained the reason back at the manor, you'd have opposed it outright. Why? Because with your limited perspective, what I'm planning would look like pointless time-wasting, unrelated to the family's gain."
Beskin glared at me, but I held his gaze steadily.
"Don't tell me you don't get it? Then just promise me one thing, Beskin. Tomorrow—for one day only—you won't raise a single objection to my orders. In return, no matter what happens afterward, I'll shoulder the full blame."
"...Can you swear to it?"
I nodded emphatically at Beskin's retort.
"Of course—further words are superfluous. Hell, I can even stake my barely secured heir candidate status on it."
"Don't wager the family's heir position so lightly. It's no trinket for the Third Young Master to toss around."
Even in that moment, Beskin bared his devotion to the family, but I merely shrugged.
"Anyway, that's the gist."
"...Very well. I sincerely hope your words and intent as Third Young Master prove meaningful."
Beskin strode out of the tent with a 'we'll see about that' air, but I stayed utterly composed.
After all, it was bound to happen regardless.
The long night passed, and morning dawned. After a late breakfast, gazing at the sun—it was slowly ascending toward its zenith.
Less than 3 km remained to the spot Saladin had described.
That's when the Mano territory guide, who had been leading the way, approached me cautiously.
"Um... Third Young Master. Up ahead lies the Selezia colony. It's breathtaking, sure, but is there really reason to detour there...?"
"It's fine. We're heading straight there."
"Eh, y-yes... Understood..."
Glancing warily at Beskin as he spoke, the guide rolled his eyes at my firm tone before guiding the group into the colony.
Now fully arrived, I gazed at the sky. The sun already dominated from its highest perch, asserting its presence.
"Why'd we come here?"
"Who knows, what whim seized him?"
"Did he seriously reroute for tourism?"
"We're pressed for time..."
Murmurs arose from all around, but I paid them no mind and bellowed.
"Blizzard Knight Order—battle stations! Guides and laborers, fall back!"
"...Huh? What'd he say?"
Visiting a pretty flower field was bizarre enough; sudden battle prep was absurd. As everyone froze in shock at my command, I silently fixed my gaze on Beskin.
At that unspoken urging, Beskin roared anew.
"What are you lot doing! Didn't you hear the Third Young Master's order? Knights and soldiers—to battle stations! Non-combatants, withdraw!"
Only then, with Beskin shouting too, did the group sense real trouble. Faces hardening, they sprang into action.
The stark contrast in reactions stung anew, but it couldn't be helped. This was my current standing in the family.
'It's fine. I can change it bit by bit.'
There was still ample time before the grand tournament, after all.
The sun shifted from its perch.
Slowly. Ever so slowly.
The blazing orb at heaven's peak began inching sideways.
The knights held their battle formation in iron silence at their captain's command.
But the guides and workers began whispering softly.
"What's this about? Something real incoming?"
"Nah, Third Young Master probably goofed."
"Loitering like this when every second counts...?"
The murmurs swelled, reaching my ears, but I stared unblinking at the forest.
'It'll come. Definitely.'
Time dragged a tad late, but Saladin would show. The Saladin I knew always did.
How much time passed?
A sinister, savage aura surged from the forward woods.
Beskin sensed it first.
*Sching!*
"Blizzard Knight Order—all hands. Battle preparation."
Beskin stated calmly, eyes locked on the forest depths.
...Crunch.
Something crushed beneathfoot.
From the shadowed woods Beskin pierced with his glare emerged an orc—one hand clutching a bouquet of flowers, the other a massive war axe. Or... could you call it an orc?
This colossal entity, skin flickering green-to-orange, chewed relentlessly while splintering trees to stand before us.
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
As the 'being' drew nearer, the mastication grew thunderous. White petals drifted from its maw.
Orange. The hue of High Orcs. This 'being' had nearly completed its evolution.
Had we let it gorge on the Selezia colony unchecked, it would've become the beast that razed Mano territory.
*Schriiip!*
Flesh rent asunder.
True to his Ice Knight moniker, Beskin's frigid aura frosted the air's moisture as he charged, slashing the 'being'.
But now was different. The monster hadn't fully evolved yet.
"Roooaaarrr!!"
Fearsome bellow. Yet it paled against legends of High Orcs that cowed ten thousand strong.
A paper-thin gap between complete and near-complete.
But that sliver wrought vast difference.
*KABOOM!!*
Earth split; blast echoed. Even Shield Family elites would've suffered grievously from such a strike.
Yet.
"Hrrrngh!!!"
*CLANG!!*
Beskin's two-hander parried the orc's axe.
Though the blow carved a deep furrow, Beskin withstood the war axe handily.
As Beskin stalled the axe-rampaging orc.
"Loose!!"
At Vice-Captain Ravins' order, soldiers unleashed pre-nocked arrows in volley.
Legends claimed High Orc hide rivaled steel—arrows should've bounced harmlessly.
Thuk! Pfft-thuk!
Yet they sank in, one after another, with absurd ease.
Perfect. At this rate, clean takedown.
"Chiiieeeeek!!"
The hunt progressed flawlessly—until then.
Arrow-pierced, it screeched and bolted into the woods, deeming retreat wiser.
Dense timber barred mounted knights and footmen alike from pursuit.
Normally, repelling it would've sufficed.
"Damn it!"
But snatching a fistful of Selezia blooms at the last second? That was the issue.
No one knew how much more it'd need to fully evolve into High Orc.
Our tower of effort might topple.
Damn. No choice—Plan B it was.
"Beskin! On me!"
I snapped the order and vaulted into the forest after the orc.
I hastened toward the direction Saladin—who'd begun the chase first—indicated.
Soon, Beskin caught up behind me.
"Third Young Master, what in blazes is that monster...?!"
I ignored him, fixated on the orc's trail.
"Third Young Master, compose yourself. We've delved too deep. The knight order's full plate makes swift forest movement impossible. We'll scatter, separated from knights and soldiers alike."
By the time Beskin's warning halted me, the Blizzard Knight Order and territory troops were far off—vast distance between us.
Already remote; thick trees obscured sight, voices offering only vague clues.
That instant.
"Chiiieek... Strong... hu...man. Now... chik... I... win."
Skin still pulsing, but orange-dominant now, the orc materialized.
In that brief span, intellect budding? It stammered human words crudely.
From our skirmish, it'd pegged Beskin as strongest—and sought to isolate us.
But.
*Thud!*
Saladin—who'd pursued—landed beside me, Mima and Nene flanking.
"Who goes there!"
Beskin bristled at the intruder.
"...Goddamn it! Never thought I'd fight shoulder-to-shoulder with a knight. You didn't explain shit?"
Saladin shot me a glare, griping about the lack of briefing.
Naturally, Beskin demanded answers too.
"Young master—who's this?"
"Details later. For now... call him a battle comrade."
Plans aren't your monopoly, colored pig.
Original: overwhelm weak orc with numbers.
Stronger than expected—or escaped, like now? Plan B.
Plan B: Strategic elite squad. Saladin, Beskin, me—down the orc.
Saladin and I were Black Lions.
More eyes on our powers meant more suspicion.
Unsolidified family standing—exposing strength to masses? Poor choice.
This worked better.
Chance to etch into neutral Beskin's mind: as 'heir,' I lacked nothing....
"Chiik... Weak... hu...man. You... after... this human... snack."
No—this goddamn pig?