Command of the Bait
"God. This tastes like dirt."
During a brief rest on the march, I muttered under my breath as I chewed the hard bread issued as combat rations. Flavor was the least of it. Bite down wrong, and I'd be worrying about my teeth before anything else.
"Ugh..."
In the end I gave up on the thing and pulled my mouth off that lump of stone. I'd eaten my share of meals on battlefields, but food this foul was a first. Hunters at least had subspace skills that could keep provisions properly stored, and even military combat rations had been far more edible than this.
"The food doesn't seem to agree with you."
Someone had caught my grumbling. An apprentice knight sitting beside me said as much. It was Greg—the apprentice I'd dueled at the family council, and beaten. He'd been glued to my side since earlier, talking without pause.
"But meals like this are ordinary for an apprentice knight. You may not know that, Young Master."
Greg held up the bread he'd already half torn through. There wasn't a trace of mockery or sarcasm on his face—only the easy manner of someone making idle talk with a friend. So I asked.
"Then why have you been acting like we're friends?"
"Not acting. We are friends. Didn't we cross swords once?"
He answered without a shred of shame. Friends? This was only the second time I'd laid eyes on him. My thoughts on the matter didn't slow him in the least.
"Since the duel came up—honestly, I was shocked back then. Elegant swordsmanship pouring out of a body that sagged like a slime! It was like watching a wild boar attempt ballet."
"Are you insulting me, or complimenting me?"
"A compliment, of course!"
Greg's eyes shone as he said it. At first I'd wondered if he was picking a fight out of spite for losing. Apparently not.
"You. Haven't you heard what people around here say about me?"
I jerked my chin toward the apprentice knights sitting nearby. The others didn't dare treat a young master with open contempt, but their eyes were still far from kind. They never spoke unless they absolutely had to, and otherwise I might as well have been invisible. I'd expected that much, so it didn't bother me. What I hadn't expected was someone like Greg coming at me this way.
"I have. I've seen it for myself a few times, too."
"And you still talked to me, knowing that? I'm a wastrel with a nasty temper."
"But a knight speaks with his sword, not his conduct. If even an arrogant knight has a blade that can cover that arrogance, then it isn't arrogance. You'd have to call it confidence."
That wasn't quite what people meant when they said a knight speaks with his sword.
"So? I'm that impressive?"
"From where I stood, yes. Of course, it looked like you were forcing a soggy lump of dough to move, and there wasn't much strength in it... which only makes it more impressive, doesn't it?"
A short laugh escaped me at the assessment. I'd been wondering what kind of fool he was, and the bastard had read my condition during that duel with uncanny accuracy.
"You've got an eye, don't you?"
"Haha. I've always had good eyes."
"Fine. Take this as your reward."
I passed him the bread I'd given up on. Rinsing my mouth with water from my canteen, I looked ahead to where Edwin stood in grave conversation.
Upright posture, precise gestures, and the presence to bend knights to his will. From a distance he looked like a commander who lacked for nothing, and the knights beside him were no disappointment either—a dozen or so full knights, each bearing two cores. True to their reputation as the finest knight order in the southern Empire, their bearing was tightly disciplined.
Even so, the meeting among them was dragging on.
"I heard a scout came back earlier. Must be about that."
Greg said it while tearing into the bread I'd given him. The Eisenberg mining district, where the orc band was supposed to be, lay only a few hours farther on. They were probably holding a proper strategy meeting on the strength of the scout's report.
"Hm..."
I drifted closer to Edwin's side of the council. The first thing I caught was the scout's report.
"The orcs have made camp in an abandoned village between the old mines. We estimate more than a hundred and fifty of them, and a massive individual—what appears to be a green ogre—was identified at the center of the band."
"A green ogre..."
Edwin let out a low groan. I knew green ogres well enough. A hybrid of orc and ogre, they possessed strength to match an ogre, and sometimes—as now—kept orcs as subordinates. Never an opponent to take lightly.
"The surrounding terrain?"
"The front is open ground, but they have their backs to a cliff with the abandoned mine behind them."
"Then..."
In other words, there was only one way in. Edwin seemed to sink into thought, weighing a frontal assault, until the scout went on.
"There is a problem, however."
"What is it?"
"They've raised a palisade near the entrance that opens onto the plain. Behind it, a large number of orc rangers are deployed."
"Orc rangers...?"
One of the knights breathed a low sigh. An orc ranger was not simply an orc with a bow. Just as an orc warrior was larger than an ordinary orc and far stronger, an orc ranger possessed marksmanship that put any orc archer to shame. Even their arrows were different—not arrows so much as projectiles closer to javelins, loosed without pause. Try to break that ground from the front, and it wouldn't be only apprentice knights and soldiers at risk. Full knights, even Edwin himself, could be in danger.
While the knights fell silent, I cut in.
"How high is the cliff?"
Only then did Edwin seem to register me. His brow tightened a fraction, but he offered no reaction beyond that, and the scout answered. About thirty meters—roughly the height of a ten-story building. At that, calling it a natural wall would hardly be an exaggeration. I pressed on.
"Can we get up there?"
"From the far side of the cliff, yes. Steep, but possible. Even then, there's no path down toward the village from above."
"If there's no path, we jump. Isn't that right?"
"That's absurd. Are you telling us to have the soldiers throw themselves off a cliff to their deaths?"
One knight cut in, displeasure plain on his face. But I hadn't been talking about soldiers or apprentice knights.
"Not the soldiers. You jump. You can do it, can't you?"
From the moment a knight gained a second aura core—once they reached two-star—they no longer used aura only on the sword. They began reinforcing the body itself in earnest. Superhuman strength, in the literal sense. For the full knights and for Edwin, leaping from a cliff like that was by no means impossible.
"What are you even..."
The knight frowned as if he couldn't follow. Edwin, quick on the uptake, grasped my intent at once.
"You're proposing a feint?"
"Right."
I nodded and laid the plan out simply. First, split the force: soldiers and apprentice knights on one side, Edwin and the full knights on the other. While the former drew the orcs' eyes from the front, the main body—the ones who could cross the cliff—would strike them from behind.
"Well?"
Silence followed. The knights still avoided my eyes and watched only Edwin, as if to say he alone was their commander.
With no other choice, I looked at him. He was staring with round eyes, as if he hadn't expected me to put forward a proper plan at all. He soon composed himself, cleared his throat once, and spoke.
"What does everyone think?"
"...It doesn't seem bad. Throwing the entire force at them head-on would leave us far too exposed to the rangers."
Only then did one knight speak, and reluctantly. That was the start.
"I feel the same."
"Of the options we can actually consider, I don't see a better one."
As if they'd been waiting for it, the other knights voiced their assent as well. Watching them change their tune with uncanny speed, I gave a bitter smile.
"The key, though, is what the green ogre does. If by some chance it doesn't engage the main force and instead decides to punch straight through the front..."
One knight raised the concern. A sharp point. If the green ogre saw that the troops merely holding the front were weak and tried to break through, then even a successful operation could still cost those troops dearly.
"In that case... I will command the forward force."
Edwin answered him that way. It was a clear misjudgment.
"No. That's not it."
"Brother. I am the commander."
"I know. But wrong is wrong."
I pushed back against him directly. I understood the intent well enough. He wanted to keep the dead to a minimum. If the green ogre really did come straight at the front, Edwin could meet it while the main force tore into the orcs' main body. But that was nothing but idealism.
"In the end, wiping the orcs out is the main force's job. And you're going to pull yourself out of it? The only one who can handle a green ogre?"
A green ogre, far stronger even than an orc warrior, could be faced by no one but Edwin, a three-star knight. So what if it struck not the front, but the main force that had slipped in behind? In that moment the main force would have no choice but to take serious damage. Edwin leaving them was something I could not accept.
"Even if the apprentice knights are wiped out, myself included, the operation can still succeed. If the main force collapses, it's over. Judge it properly."
At the edge in my voice, Edwin's expression hardened. To the end, though, no answer came from him saying he would do as I said. The opinion of a wastrel older brother alone, it seemed, wasn't enough to move him. I turned a glare on the knights beside us.
"What do you think?"
The same question Edwin had asked a moment ago. This time they couldn't ignore it.
"This... Young Master Lucas is right."
"I also believe we ought to prepare for the worst, rather than for an ideal situation."
They said it with oddly twisted faces, as if siding with me instead of Edwin was something they still couldn't get used to.
"How could you all..."
Edwin looked shocked by their reaction as well. But that shock was itself the proof that he was wrong, and he was not foolish enough to miss it. With a heavy sigh, he finally nodded.
"...Very well. I will follow your judgment."
He said that, then turned to me.
"Then... Brother."
"What?"
"Please return to your place now. This is no place for an apprentice knight."
As if telling me not to interfere any further, he spoke with finality. I hadn't come to take his command in any case.
"Fine. I'm going."
I went back without a fuss. If I'd put in this much advice, the rest they could handle themselves. Or so I thought as I rejoined the formation.
A little later, though—just as we drew near the abandoned mining village where the orc band lay—Greg, who had been summoned by Edwin, came back with news I hadn't expected.
"...Seriously?"
"Seriously."
"He really told me to take command?"
"Yes. Young Master Edwin has entrusted you with command of the frontal force."
Edwin, gone off with the main body, had assigned me authority over the front—the unit playing bait.
"What kind of whim is this now?"
I couldn't tell whether he meant to test me or to nail me in place so I couldn't run. Either way, it wasn't a bad thing. With command in my hands, the fighting would be much easier. The catch was this.
The soldiers and apprentice knights who heard the news did not look pleased. As if they couldn't begin to understand why Edwin had decided as he had, they watched me with eyes full of unease and distrust.
"We'll get to see your sword again, Young Master! I'm really looking forward to it."
Only Greg failed to read the room, chattering on as bright as ever. I let out a short sigh and slowly closed my hand around the hilt of the Wailing Sword at my waist.