Chapter 46
Chapter 46
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Genius Divine Archer Who Became a One-Man Legion
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The barbarians' strategy had failed.
The original plan had probably been to burn the kingdom army's soldiers alive and burn the fear of them into everyone's minds.
But,
"Haap-!"
"Huaap!"
The shouts echoing throughout Bieltora brought a faint spark of fighting spirit even to the eyes of Barus, who was watching.
After talking it over with Rian, they had reorganized the overall training based on the regimen the Arrowhead Unit was following.
"Don't give up! If you give up, the comrade right next to you will burn to death all over again!"
"Next time, we've got to string those bastards up on crosses! Don't stop!"
"Uwaaaaaah!"
The fallen soldiers screamed like madmen as they staggered back to their feet and started running again.
Barus, who had joined the soldiers in their training, couldn't hide his own exhausted expression either.
"Huuk... Huuk... You do this training every day?"
"Without skipping a single day."
"So that's the secret behind your insane stamina. But this... Huuk... where did you learn it?"
"My late father was a drill instructor. He taught me all sorts of things while he was alive."
"A fine father he must've been."
"Alright, time to run again."
"Kuh..."
As Rian started running once more, Barus ground his teeth and followed.
He was pushing close to forty, but his conditioning was clearly solid.
By the time training wrapped up, most of the soldiers had collapsed to the ground, faces pale as if their breath was giving out.
'Keeping up all the way to the end—that's impressive in itself.'
It spoke volumes about how fiercely these men had been fighting all this time.
It went beyond mere stamina; the mental fortitude they'd forged in real combat was extraordinary.
Rian wiped the sweat streaming down his face and approached Barus.
"You alright?"
"Manage... able."
His hands were trembling far too much for that to be true.
Rian pretended not to notice and offered his hand.
Barus took it and hauled himself up, brushed off his backside, and eyed the Arrowhead Unit members—who were still full of pep.
"Truly impressive."
"We've still got more to do."
"Keep this up, and when those demon bastards come charging in, we won't even make it two steps before collapsing."
"By then, I bet the soldiers here will run even better. Their willpower is no joke."
"...They've gotten stronger every time they've lost brothers-in-arms."
Sad memories, to be sure—but they'd served as the foundation for forging this unbreakable unit.
Rian nodded.
He hesitated briefly, then looked to Barus.
"Captain Barus, there's something I'd like to discuss."
"Discuss?"
"Yes."
Barus cocked his head at Rian's words, but he followed him into the command tent anyway.
Once inside the tent, Barus turned to Rian.
"So, what is it?"
"Well..."
Rian trailed off for a moment.
He had no idea how his next words would land with Barus.
'Still, it has to be said.'
No dodging it.
Rian met Barus's eyes.
"I believe we should strike first—a preemptive attack."
"......!"
Barus's face hardened in an instant.
How could it not? Ugly memories from the past came flooding back.
Barus shook his head.
"Out of the question. I won't allow it!"
Rian wore the look of someone who'd seen that coming.
'As expected... no attacks.'
Living in Bieltora, Rian had picked up on something oddly off-kilter.
Battles always leave traces—of attackers and defenders alike.
Yet Bieltora bore only the scars of one-sided beatings.
'Way too defensive.'
Defending Bieltora was impressive, no doubt.
But support units hadn't come just once or twice.
Company-sized forces or larger had rolled in at least every two or three years.
You saw it in the mismatched emblems etched on the soldiers' armor here—men who'd arrived with support contingents and ended up staying.
Peculiar thing was, for all the nonstop fighting, their numbers hadn't dwindled much.
That pointed to a few possibilities.
Rian's gaze sharpened.
He'd suspected as much, but Barus's reaction only confirmed it further.
Rian asked,
"Why not?"
"Porhen Gorge is a natural fortress. We don't have the manpower to crack it."
"Have you tried?"
"...What did you say?"
A spark seemed to flash in Barus's one good eye.
Rian pressed on, unflinching under that murderous glare.
"Did you kill them?"
"...."
Barus's hand inched slowly toward the sword at his left hip.
A heavy, sinister killing intent rolled off him, coiling around Rian like smoke.
But Rian didn't back down.
"The commanders of those earlier support units... did you kill them?"
"...Yes."
Barus's eyes were utterly transformed from when they'd entered the tent—back to that piercing gaze from their first meeting.
A gaze cold as a dagger plunging into the chest.
Rian swallowed hard in silence.
Barus eyed him steadily.
"Do you know how Bieltora's been held? Every fool commander who dragged a support unit here threw every last soldier on the front lines into the meat grinder! And..."
Barus tugged off the patch over his left eye.
A grotesque scar framed an empty socket, gleaming like a black hole.
Barus tapped the ruined socket.
"Over two thousand men died there. My soul died right alongside them."
"...."
"After that, I saw things differently. To hold this place, I'd do whatever it took."
He saw it as his penance for the comrades who'd trusted him and died.
The only reason he'd crawled out of that hell alive.
"Killed the idiot commanders. Falsified the battle reports. Kept their units here with us to defend Bieltora."
It happened two or three times like that, shaping Bieltora as it stood today.
Never managed to wipe out the barbarians infesting the place—but they'd held the line.
Barus readjusted his eyepatch and fixed Rian with a stare.
"That's what this place means to me. Not some fuel for you hotshots to burn chasing quick glory!"
Barus bellowed, jabbing a finger at Rian.
"You strut around pretending you're above it all, scheming away—but you're just as hungry for the credit of conquering this hellhole! You think one lucky win lets you grasp the whole picture?"
Rian, who'd stayed quiet until now, shook his head.
"No. But one thing's certain: my reason for pushing an attack is nothing like those other units'."
Barus scoffed.
Pfft!
"You? Better than all those commanders who came before?"
"Not saying that. But if you think I'm spouting nonsense, go ahead—cut me down with that sword."
"...."
Barus's hand froze on the way to his hilt.
He studied Rian.
The glare had softened a touch—but it was complicated now, too.
Barus let out a slow breath.
"Hoo. Speak. I'll hear you out—this once, anyway."
Rian had earned that much consideration, given what he'd shown.
Tension lingered, though.
Barus kept his sword hand ready, hostility unyielding.
Rian plunged ahead regardless.
"Very well. Time for a briefing on attack tactics for the Bieltora sector."
The man had endured despair for far too long.
Dangerous? Sure—but
'No running from this.'
Rian began.
* * *
"A guest?"
Adelson scowled at the news of an unscheduled visitor.
Things had gotten so slammed lately, he'd made it clear: no guests unless absolutely necessary.
Bex's follow-up made him flinch, though.
"Says he's here on an errand from Rian-nim."
"Rian?"
Why was that name surfacing here, of all places?
Adelson rose and went to meet the guest.
'...A kid?'
Something felt off about him, though.
Boyish face, sure—but the sheer intensity pouring off him made even striking up a conversation feel daunting.
Like Bex in the thick of battle.
"Rian sent you?"
"You're Adelson?"
"That's me."
"I'm Isaac, vice unit commander of Rian-nim's Arrowhead Unit. Here on the captain's orders to deliver this letter."
Crisp formality.
Round cheeks still clinging to a hint of baby fat, but those eyes—razor-sharp.
What sealed it as Rian's man, though?
'Those swords...'
Twin blades hanging at his waist.
The ones Rian had commissioned from Walter.
'Said they were for someone special—begged me to handle it right.'
And hadn't he sourced the rare materials for them himself?
Swords forged from such treasures? Had to be for someone dear to Rian.
"Isaac, was it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Pleasure. Adelson, of the Hamel Merchant Company. Proper introduction."
Adelson extended a hand. Isaac clasped it firmly.
Callused. Solid.
'This aura—at his age.'
The sky was the limit for this one.
Greetings done, Adelson nodded and unsealed the letter.
His face tightened as he read.
Bex ventured carefully from the side,
"...Something wrong?"
"Haha... Asking me to procure this. What in the world is he thinking..."
Adelson stared at Isaac, bewilderment plain on his face.
* * *
Barus's expression shifted from skepticism to outright surprise as he listened to Rian.
"...Recognition?"
Rian nodded at the question.
"Yes. We need to change their perception."
The barbarians holed up in Porhen Gorge had attacked relentlessly for years, while Bieltora just held the line.
They had to assume they were safe from counterstrikes.
"Even so, Bieltora's forces can't punch through Porhen Gorge."
"No plans to. Like I said—it's about hammering home that they could get hit anytime."
"And that changes what, exactly?"
"A lot. Forces them to split their effort elsewhere instead of piling it all on us, and..."
Rian glanced toward the tent flap.
Soldiers out there, eternally vigilant.
A Bieltora staple—and it jacked up fatigue levels like nothing else.
"Time to wear them down too."
Nibbling away, inch by inch—but the gap between acting and not was night and day. Plus,
'Drill the frontal assault pattern into them over and over. Then, when we scale the walls later, that's our window.'
Stick to one attack style long-term.
It'd cost them effort upfront, but pay massive dividends once they were primed.
"...What's your angle?"
"Can't say yet. But when it's ready... I'll loop you in first."
"...."
The hostility faded from Barus's gaze.
Worry didn't, though.
Too much risk buying into Rian's pitch wholesale right now.
Barus agonized.
Years of defending this speck with nothing but sheer will—and even that was fraying.
"...You can promise you won't shove us straight into hell?"
"I promise. Advance notice, and your go-ahead every time."
"Haa..."
Barus heaved a deep sigh at Rian's vow.
Short time knowing him, but Rian stood apart from the old power-drunk types who'd run wild.
Didn't buckle under despair, either.
Something in him burned like a star—desperate, unyielding drive.
"I'll trust you."
"Thank you."
Rian beamed.
Barus's buy-in was key to shaking this place up.
Rian unrolled a map across the table.
Detailed chart of Bieltora's surrounds, mountain trails and all that Barus had mapped.
Gazing at it, Rian said,
"Attack goes straight down the gorge's central axis. But we won't push deep."
Force a defense, then pull out clean—that was the crux.
Getting out mattered more than getting in.
"Heard the real headache's enemies lurking on the gorge walls, striking when we advance."
"Right. Moderate slope makes it perfect for them: pin the front, flank from both sides. That's their playbook."
"Then why not seize those walls before they do?"
"Can't. They're dug in already. Speed won't cut it."
Barus grabbed paper and sketched a rough terrain map of Porhen Gorge.
Uncannily lifelike, like he was tracing it live.
"You know that gorge inside out."
"Impossible to forget. Cost me this eye."
Barus tapped his temple.
"Burned in perfect right here."
"...I see."
Rian admired how casually Barus dropped lines like that.
He studied the sketch intently, pondered, then turned to Barus.
"In that case... how about we try something like this?"