107. Counterattack 2
Bin scouted the Grander family's forces converging on Plentel Castle. Through the gaps in the forest, large contingents in red armor marched steadily onward.
Drdddrk.
Startled birds flapped their wings at the rumble of their advance.
Trddk. Trddk.
The Grander forces were arrayed around Plentel Castle at the 8 o'clock, 10 o'clock, 12 o'clock, 2 o'clock, and 4 o'clock positions—a total of five groups.
Codic caught the glint in Bin's narrowed eyes.
"My lord, are they finally coming?"
Bin nodded with a meaningful expression.
Gazing at the masses of troops before him, he thought,
'First things first—gotta thin their numbers.'
Recalling his plan, Bin vanished toward the 8 o'clock position amid the shadows coiling around his body.
Swish.
At the 8 o'clock position relative to Plentel Castle, a man with red epaulets led a host of soldiers. His mouth was covered by a mask, matching his crimson epaulets.
He was Rasvan, the 100-man captain of Crimson Squad's 9th Company.
Rasvan yanked the reins of his horse.
"Hiiik!"
The horse reared back its head and came to a halt. The troops behind followed suit, stopping in place.
Rasvan raised a strip of dried meat in his hand. His soldiers glanced around warily.
'What the hell does that mean...?'
'Is the taciturn bastard signaling with his mouth this time?'
'He wants us to eat now?'
His subordinates frowned. Rasvan was usually so quiet that the men had to interpret his gestures alone.
After exchanging uneasy looks, they shouted in unison.
"Yes, Captain!"
They'd caught on to his signal. The soldiers hurriedly pulled rations from their pouches—dried meat, powdered barley, and the like. Simple fare that could be eaten with water, perfect for wartime.
Gulp. Gulp.
The men started swallowing down their soaked rations.
Moments later, they scattered to eat and handle personal business. Rasvan, too, stepped into the woods, dropped his trousers, and began to relieve himself.
Swish. Thwack!
A massive green hand shot from the underbrush, yanking him inside in one swift motion.
Inside the bushes, Rasvan's eyes flashed wide. A man in a black uniform pressed a sword to his throat with cold eyes.
"......"
'A Bascon?!'
It was none other than Bin. Rasvan panicked. The ambush hadn't even begun yet, but a Bascon was already here. That meant the Grander plan might fall apart entirely.
Bin spoke in a low voice.
"Twitch a finger, and you'll die in agony."
He clamped down on Rasvan's windpipe with his manifested green gorilla arm.
'Urk... Urk...'
Rasvan's face flushed red with pained agony. But Bin wasn't done. He shoved his hand deeper into the man's mouth, then forced black magi into his nostrils and throat.
Saaaaah.
'Grrk...'
Rasvan thrashed his limbs briefly.
Thud.
Unable to breathe, he slumped lifeless. In an unexpected strike, Bin had dispatched a Grander executive—a 3rd-class knight—in seconds.
Codic eyed the fallen Rasvan and pulled something from his mouth.
"My lord, here you are."
It was a human skin mask, capable of disguising the wearer as another person.
Bin took it from Codic and fitted it over his face.
'Time to get started.'
Soon after, as mealtime ended, "Rasvan" raised his hand and pointed somewhere. The soldiers tilted their heads.
"......?"
They exchanged glances and gradually caught on.
"Captain, this direction..."
"It's not the route command ordered."
"If we turn this way, we'll overlap paths with the others..."
One knight worried about running into the Grander group at the 10 o'clock position.
But "Rasvan" scowled.
"......"
The knights' minds reeled. Command's orders clashed with their captain's.
As they hesitated, "Rasvan's" gaze sharpened. The soldiers quailed under their captain's glare.
"......"
In the end, they yielded to 100-man Captain Rasvan.
"Everyone, move this way."
With that shout, the large force pivoted en masse.
At that moment, "Rasvan"—watching his troops from behind—let his expression shift.
Yes. He was Bin in disguise.
Thus, he'd set the stage for the 8 o'clock and 10 o'clock forces to collide, exploiting Rasvan's taciturn nature from his past life.
Meanwhile, at the 10 o'clock position, a makeshift supply depot stood amid black tents and wooden posts. A man with red epaulets on his shoulders inspected goods from horseback.
A handsome man—he was Gribran, 100-man captain of Crimson Squad's 8th Company, in charge of supplies.
"This should be plenty."
Two knights beside him chimed in.
"Looking at these supplies, it's different from what we've seen hitting other families!"
"Yeah, facing the Bascons must have the family head putting in extra effort."
As the Crimson Squad knights chatted, two shadows materialized before them. Tall figures radiating magi.
The knights shouted in alarm.
"What the hell? Who are you?"
"Do you know where this is?!"
Their answer was...
Stab. Stab. Stab! Stab!
Black smoke billowed from the right knight's face.
Ssssh.
Soon, a red conical sword pierced the left knight's skull clean through.
Thud.
The shadows were King and Jack.
Gribran of 8th Company trembled at the imposing duo.
"......"
The charred black face on the ground and the skewered head fueled his terror.
Jack and King addressed the quivering Gribran.
"Defy my king's will..."
"...and I'll personally reduce you to that."
Frightened by the threat, Gribran nodded.
"......"
He'd obey.
Bin had tailored this to Gribran's known cowardice from his past life.
Soon after, the forces from the 8 and 10 o'clock positions met at the 9 o'clock spot.
But the group from 8 o'clock charged on horseback.
Dadadak. Dadadak.
Fierce eyes, weapons raised. And why not? The 10 o'clock group wore black armor on Rasvan's orders—to infiltrate Plentel Castle covertly.
Of course, it was really King and Jack's coercion.
The 9th Company's knights from 8 o'clock unleashed on the 8th Company's from 10 o'clock.
Clang! Clang. Swish. Swish.
Blades clashed. Arms, heads flew into the air amid sprays of blood.
Stab! Stab!
"Die, you bastards!"
"W-wait...!"
The 8th Company knights recognized their attackers too late.
Swish.
Heads rolled.
The dark night made faces hard to discern.
Clang! Clang...!
Swords and spears whistled through the air as countless 8th Company knights tumbled from their mounts.
Thud. Thud...
"What do we do about this..."
Gribran floundered, watching allies slaughter each other. He wanted to shout the truth but couldn't—King and Jack, disguised as Crimson Squad with human skin masks, glared from behind.
Thud. Thud...
Only after massive casualties did some soldiers sense something amiss.
"This is off..."
"Why..."
The attacks looked familiar. Grander swordsmanship, centered on mana of strength.
One soldier spoke up.
"What the hell are fellow Grander men doing?!"
His opponent yelled back in confusion.
"Why are you lot—who should be at 8 o'clock—here?!"
"That's our line! What about 10 o'clock, showing up here causing chaos?!"
"The nerve..."
Clashing steel grew sporadic. The 9th Company from 8 o'clock and 8th from 10 o'clock began recognizing each other.
But only after half their forces lay dead.
'Whew... At least they figured it out.'
As 8th Company Captain Gribran sighed in relief...
Shrieeek.
Bin's blue thunderbird soared into the sky. His gaze fixed below.
High ground: boulders wrapped in vines. A river blocked by ice, unable to flow down.
"Begin."
The thunderbird's ascent was the signal.
Doong. Doong.
Drums pounded in their ears.
"These drums..."
9th and 8th Company knights puzzled over the unknown sound, unease mounting.
"Something feels wrong..."
Before one soldier could finish, laughter echoed from the heights.
"Hahaha! Figured it out now? Too late, you fools."
A booming voice—Hite, 50-man captain of Black Wolf Division's 7th Company.
The Grander soldiers gaped at him.
"B-Bascons!"
"A trap?!"
Hite bellowed back.
"Cut the Grander scum's throats, all of you!"
"Yes, Captain!"
At his command, Black Wolf 7th Company's knights slashed the vine-bound boulders.
Swish.
Drdddrk. Drdddrk...
From the high ground, massive rocks tumbled toward the clustered Grander troops.
Accelerating, the boulders crushed horses one by one.
Thud! Thud!
"Hiiik!"
"Hiiik!"
Horses panicked amid the falling stones, bucking riders off.
Thud. Thud.
Knights' screams filled the valley.
"Urk!"
"Gah!"
"Damn it all..."
The heavy rocks gained deadly momentum. Crimson Squad knights died on the spot, skulls split.
But it didn't end there. As survivors fled...
Pfook! Pfook! Pfook...!
The ground caved in on the right.
"The earth—it's...!"
"Aaaagh!"
"Kaaaagh!"
Screams rang out again. Bin's skeleton soldiers had dug pits in advance.
As Crimson Squad lost footing and sprained ankles...
Shaaaah.
River waters roared ominously.
Shaaaah!
From the heights, the river surged in an S-curve, crashing toward Crimson Squad and Gribran.
Thud! Thud!
Swept away, screams erupted.
"Ugh."
"Guh."
"Son of a...!"
As Gribran yelled...
Shaaaah.
"Nice look for you landlubbers."
Gold Tooth emerged from the water, hooking Gribran through.
Pfook!
"Urk! By some lowlife like you..."
Unable to fight at full strength in the torrent, Gribran fell easily.
Jack and King had already withdrawn.
From the thunderbird, Bin smirked down.
Two of the five Grander groups wiped out. Phase one—reducing headcount—complete.
Shaaaah!
Watching the flooded troops in chaos, Bin thought of the next target: the group at the 2 o'clock position relative to Plentel Castle.
'You're next.'