Chapter 180
Chapter 180
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: The Chase on the Urk Plains
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-Roooaaar!
Once the overlord of the Dragon Mountains, the ogre bellowed ferociously as it swung its rock-hard fists mercilessly.
Though the orcs' momentum had pushed it back, forcing it from its original territory to the outskirts of the mountains, it was still an ogre. The king of the forest.
The idea of being captured by frail humans—mere snacks—was utterly unthinkable.
Yet that impossible event had actually happened.
He didn't know how much time had passed. But one thing was clear: neither he nor the other monsters captured alongside him had any intention of forgiving the humans who dared to pull off such a stunt.
"Aaaargh!"
Look over there. Even now, a troll—one of the savage monsters on par with him—was devouring a fleeing human.
Humans truly were weak. In the ogre's eyes, unable to even fall to a troll, a lone male human stood dumbly in place.
He must have been so terrified his soul had fled his body.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The ogre charged with a roar, but the human didn't budge an inch.
-Roooaaar!
One more step. Just one more, and he could devour the human right in front of him. As that foot hovered forward...
Slash!
"...?"
The ogre couldn't comprehend the sudden shift in its vision.
It had been charging straight at the human, so why was the sky suddenly in view?
-Roa... guh...
Something was wrong. Even its voice wouldn't come out properly.
Soon, the ogre's vision went black.
The man had cleaved through the ogre, the troll behind it, and other monsters in a single stroke.
Despite unleashing swordsmanship bordering on the divine, Duke Camille's expression remained stern.
He had suppressed his anger and culled quite a few, yet the noises echoing from various parts of the fortress showed no signs of stopping.
"Your Grace, the outer perimeter has been mostly cleared."
Saint, captain of the 4th Holy Knight Order who had been pursuing Jerome alongside Duke Camille, reported while clad in dented, blood-soaked armor.
"Injured?"
Duke Camille's curt question drew an equally brief reply from Saint.
"Just a graze. My apologies."
Duke Camille frowned briefly at Saint's crumpled armor.
"Tch. You're still far from ready. If you aspire to claim the throne after me, you can't fail to control even this level of chaos. Redouble your efforts."
"Understood."
"And Captain Raguel?"
"He's currently pursuing and exterminating the ones that slithered into the fortress interior."
Only upon hearing that the distant noises from within came from the 2nd Holy Knight Order's Captain Raguel did Duke Camille's face relax.
"Leave the interior to Raguel. Have the remaining soldiers and temple priests handle cleanup on the outskirts, and prepare to depart immediately."
"Right now? Your Grace should at least rest a bit..."
Saint asked in a worried tone.
They were mere monsters, but their numbers were vast.
The all-night battle had nearly concluded, but dawn was already breaking.
"The Colosseum was smashed. By a single suspect."
"...!!"
"Stadt claims he's strong, but do you think he could destroy the Colosseum alone?"
"...I spoke out of turn. Then what of the remnants on the outskirts? Suppressing them with soldiers alone will incur significant losses."
Duke Camille's voice lowered at Saint's repeated question.
"Are our soldiers and knights such fools that they can do nothing without us?"
"...No, sir. I'll prepare right away."
Saint, who had long served at Duke Camille's side, knew better than to ask more.
"We will catch him. Letting him escape would leave us without face before Her Highness the Imperial Princess."
In less than ten minutes, the 4th Holy Knight Order and Duke Camille, preparations complete, departed the castle.
To execute Jerome, who was digging traps in the Urk Plains.
The border region's weather was notoriously fickle. On this returning morning, a chill hung in the air, dew from the day's temperature swing glistening on nameless grasses.
Swish!
Pushing through the tent flap, I stepped out to find the imperial merchant groups bustling about.
From here, they would split from us and move separately, so they were hurrying to depart.
Joseph, with whom I'd briefly spoken yesterday, was no exception.
Our eyes met for a moment, and he gave a short bow.
With the 7th Holy Knight Order's eyes everywhere, chatting from morning onward wouldn't be easy.
Still, his concern wasn't unwelcome.
"Awake, Young Master?"
Miron approached, fully armored and ready.
"I-I told you not to shake me like that...!"
Of course, Luna stuck close by his side, fretting over the hammer case(?) slung across his shoulder.
Pfft!
"Miron, try not to step up if possible. Archbishop Luna might faint."
"But..."
I raised a finger quietly to Miron, who couldn't shake his worry.
"Don't worry. We'll stick to the plan—full speed to the rendezvous point. Got it?"
It was obvious, really.
The Holy Knight Orders in the 10s had different natures, purposes, and compositions from the others.
They were arenas for young geniuses vying for the throne.
'Each captain is nipping at the heels of the Four Marquises.'
Even just Captain Stadt would be a tough fight; throwing Miron and Archbishop Luna at the rest without a plan was tantamount to begging for death.
So we had to flee to the rendezvous point, no matter what.
The problem was that Captain Stadt surely knew this too.
'Let's play this life-or-death game of tag.'
This was the last hurdle. Survive this crisis, and no major issues until we sailed for the archipelago.
Facing my final trial before adulthood, I fiddled with the stones stuffed in my pocket to steel my resolve.
"You've had a rough time, Captain."
"Heh, no need. I pray you fulfill His Imperial Highness's orders well. Though watch out—the wrath of the furious Shield Family lord might spill over."
"Ahaha..."
With an awkward smile at Captain Stadt's pointed well-wishes, the Rakni Merchant Group's leader departed last.
Now, only the 7th Holy Knight Order and us remained in the border region.
Twirl!
"Shall we go, then?"
"No more formalities, I see."
"Pot calling the kettle black. We're both past that—drop the pretense."
Stadt pointed south.
"Cross that horizon, and you're in the Urk Plains. Reach it, and your identity will be confirmed by scouts—officially out of Ballista territory."
Killing intent flickered at Stadt's lips.
"I've disliked you since the rumors, no, since I first saw you. Daring to wag your tongue boldly before His Grace the Duke, constantly obstructing the Empire's great march."
"Have I?"
"That unforgivable sin—you'll repent it properly before the Lord."
The southern horizon looked an hour's ride away at a glance.
'Factoring in to the rendezvous... about three hours total.'
Two hours. Hold out for two, and we win.
"Sure, if you can. Anyway, your escort duty ends here, right? Chasing my tail requires prep—why bother tagging along?"
Stadt had no reason to refuse.
"Hah, cocky pup's well-prepared, eh? Seeing your confidence makes the hunt appealing."
Stadt gestured to the plains.
"Just in case: don't be a fool and hole up like a rat. Our eyes blanket this plain densely."
As if we would. We had no reason to hide either, heading straight for the rendezvous.
"If you've got the skill, chase me all you want."
With a mocking sneer, our horses kicked off fiercely, carrying us into the plains.
Stadt and the 7th Holy Knight Order watched briefly. Around them appeared imperial 'eyes' that hadn't been there moments ago, donning wildling garb.
Eyes shut to the obvious, but they couldn't risk giving grounds for international dispute.
Shedding their silver armor symbolic of the Holy Knight Orders, Stadt hummed softly.
"Hidey-hide, or your hair you'll bide."
"Will it be alright?"
Luna shouted as we raced wildly on horseback.
"We've potions aplenty for the horses as you said, Young Master, but the Empire's top-10 Holy Knight Orders equip even regular members with the finest warhorses. They'll close a one-hour gap in no time."
She was right.
Even Hexagon issued fine steeds selected from Ikenia Kingdom, but across the continent's history, imperial horses from the Empire's harsh northern lands reigned supreme.
The explosive mobility from muscles honed in brutal climates would shrink even an hour's distance in moments.
No, perhaps less than an hour. Given Stadt's thick killing intent, they might have already disguised and begun pursuit. No—they definitely had.
"It'll be fine! Just run your best!"
To delay them even slightly, I was hurling stones from the rear with all I had.
These hastily set formations in unstable spots couldn't match the wondrous effects of the Azure Sky array used to hunt wyverns with Hatan's poison eyes, of course.
But they could snag ankles for a few minutes at least.
As the pocket—stuffed to the lining—began to empty, the horizon's end Stadt had indicated came into view.
Finally, we had escaped Ballista into the Urk Plains.
"!"
"!"
The moment our feet touched the Urk Plains.
The outwardly empty, serene plain's air grew tense in an instant.
No one visible to the eye, yet the bustling aura prickled the skin palpably.
Banten as Banten, Ballista as Ballista.
Word of our safe exit from Ballista was surely spreading in real time.
Father—Bacchus von Carviot—would have dispatched reinforcements without a word, I'm sure.
They'd assume I'd head straight for Banten, racing the shortest path between there and Ballista.
Ballista's foes would predict the same.
But our group veered slightly right, toward the Dragon Mountains' foothills—mocking their expectations.
'Come on, follow us.'
We had a gift they couldn't even imagine.
"Captain. Target just entered the Urk Plains."
"Title."
"Ah, right. Sorry, boss."
Stadt, imperial crown and continent map-embossed holy sword set aside, a plain longsword at his waist, grinned at the unfamiliar address tickling his ear.
"Yes, we're not proud knights now, but bandits prowling the border—nay, brigands. Anyway, riffraff. 'Captain' is too lofty."
Even hearing Jerome's group had entered the Urk Plains, Stadt brimmed with leisure.
The rookie's bravado let him finish prep quicker, and his advance put them less than thirty minutes ahead.
Neigh!
Lighter without their heavy silver plate, the 7th Holy Knight Order's horses snorted happily.
Stadt mounted, stroking his warhorse's bulging neck.
"All mount up!"
At the vice-captain's shout following his lead, Stadt clicked his tongue again.
"Tch, what brigands stand so disciplined?"
"S-sorry. Still getting used to it..."
"Listen well, Vice-Captain. This isn't war—it's a hunt. Don't forget."
"Understood."
Patting his reliable vice-captain's shoulder, Stadt spurred toward the Urk Plains. Leading him, the 7th Holy Knight Order—no, the border wildlings—pursued Jerome's group en masse.
To exterminate the rats who dared disrupt the Empire's event.
A short-statured man bore a massive shield on his back, ill-suited to his frame.
Like a statue, from early morning until the sun reached sky's zenith, he hadn't stirred, gazing north.
"... ."
Behind him, nearly a hundred knights—assimilated to his stillness—stared north unmoving.
How much time passed?
A messenger galloped to the lead man and the one beside him, whispering.
"I see."
Uttering that upon hearing the whisper, the man finally moved his rigid form.
His motion rippled like a wave, soon influencing the remaining hundred knights.
Thus moving as one vast organism, the man and knights charged north.
To protect their small lord emerging from the jaws of death.