Chapter 31
Chapter 31
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Grand Duke's Heir, You've Run Away
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Adan knew it too, having seen it with his own eyes. As the freykers closed in to melee range, he waved the flag in his hand with all his might.
"Fire!"
The taut ropes slackened all at once, hurling massive spears and boulders into the air. Adan, expecting them to be impossible to dodge at such close range, wore a tense smile. But in an instant, his eyes widened in shock.
The freykers spun like tops, then abruptly veered to the sides, evading everything. Adan stared blankly as the giant spears and rocks flew far across the plain and tumbled to the ground, his mind going white.
The battle was over now. Freykers were faster than nimble cavalry, but resetting the siege engines would take considerable time.
Kieeeek. Thud! Boom!
The siege engines exploded in an instant under the freykers' headbutts. As wooden shards rained down everywhere, Adan spun his camel around in panic and retreated, at a loss for what to do.
There was no need to issue a retreat order. The siege crews were already scrambling onto their camels in terror and fleeing, while the camel archers scattered in all directions as a single freyker, enraged by their arrows, chased them down.
'Ah, so that's why Kara Fortress falls in the first battle. No wonder—with soldiers of that caliber, there's no defense possible.'
I was dumbfounded by the spectacle of Kara's troops. Their chain of command had collapsed, and no military orders were coming at all. Far from fighting the monsters, everyone was just scrambling to save their own skins. At least there weren't many casualties yet, but the future looked bleak.
Zenbe approached, furrowing his brow.
"What the hell are those so-called warriors doing right now?"
"Trying to stay alive first, I guess."
"Are all human warriors like that?"
"No. They've just gone soft from peace. Peace turns warriors into meek sheep. At best, they're politicians."
There were no forces around hostile to Kara. The nearby Sika tribes revered Kara as their overlord, and Braam's army—which was supposedly strong—was beyond the demon trade route.
Of course, brutal desert bandits operated along that route, but they had to watch Kara's mood. If Kara cut off smuggling and food sales, they'd be in deep trouble.
So Kara had enjoyed a long era of peace, and its military quality had apparently plummeted to rock bottom. Only those who've seen war fight well, and Kara had grown too complacent in peace.
"Pathetic."
Zenbe grabbed Titanian and stood up. I watched him subtly from above.
"Not yet. They're not desperate enough."
Zenbe glared at me.
"Then when do you plan to step in?"
"Who knows? It's not my choice, so I can't say."
"What nonsense is that?"
"Choosing the goods is up to the customer. And the shopkeeper has to wait at the counter. That's the way of the world."
"You mean they have to come to us?"
"Bingo."
Zenbe's nose twitched. He clearly didn't like me much. But there was no helping it. Forcing a customer to buy was coercion.
"Grrraaah!"
A casualty finally appeared. A Kara soldier fleeing on camel was kicked by a pursuing freyker, spraying blood as he flew into the air. His neck and back twisted unnaturally on impact—he was clearly dead.
But it was a relatively peaceful death. Another Kara soldier was crushed under a massive foot, his lower chest smashed flat, unable to even scream properly before dying.
I gazed at the dust cloud rising in the distant wasteland desert, a faint smile on my lips. Adan and the command staff were frantically riding camels straight toward us.
'Heh. Incompetent or not, they know this is their path to survival. Human instinct for self-preservation is sharper than anything.'
Soon, Adan came panting up and dismounted, rushing over to me.
"Master!"
"Oh? What brings you here?"
"Please, take care of those things!"
"Ah, but today's supposed to be a holiday..."
"Pardon?"
"I told you yesterday—I came along for vacation. But with things like this, no choice, I suppose~"
With that, I pulled the bill from my pocket and held it out.
Adan stared at the paper, eyes bulging. The fee listed was 1,208 gold leaves. Byproducts went to the hunter, of course.
"Master? This is different from what we discussed yesterday!"
"Ah~, holiday work is double pay. Didn't you know? Oopsie~."
Adan and the trailing officers' faces crumpled nicely.
At that moment, a freyker turned its head toward us. It must have judged us—the stationary ones—easier prey than the fleeing camel riders.
Seeing this, Zenbe began slowly drawing up his power. His green skin gradually darkened, and his eyes gleamed red. It was the berserker's physical transformation. Berserkers used mana to push strength and speed to extremes. The only issue was the short duration.
'This guy's temper is hair-trigger. I said not yet.'
But Zenbe ignored me and charged at the oncoming freyker. Orcs were troublesome like that—they couldn't tolerate a challenge going unanswered.
Soon, black aura and white light threads intertwined from Zenbe's massive sword, raining down countless shooting stars on the freyker.
Adan gaped at the sight. A berserker master swordsman wielding meteor shower magic with a greatsword—there was only one known: the legendary figure.
"N-No way... Zenbe of the Shooting Stars?"
I sighed and mounted my pitch-black abyssal steed.
"So don't think about stiffing the fee. If that guy snaps, Kara's done for by tomorrow."
"Y-Yes, sir."
Adan accepted my terms without protest.
Zenbe was a top-tier berserker master and orc great hero. The moment his name spread, thousands of orc mercenaries across the great desert would flock to him like clouds. Orcs obeyed strength utterly—that was their trait.
If such a Zenbe turned his wrath on Kara, the fortress would face an unprecedented crisis.
"Good. Contract established."
I shook the reins, and the abyssal steed let out an eerie roar as it charged forward. The sound, like the terror of the abyss, seeped into Adan and the officers' ears, planting deep fear.
As I rode, I watched Zenbe battling the freyker.
Zenbe swung Titanian, wrapped in black aura blade, slicing open its flank in one stroke. Then he leaped atop it and smashed its head mercilessly.
'Damn, ditching the high horse. Albans don't listen worth a damn, but the guy's got skills.'
I turned my mount and pursued a freyker chasing some Kara soldiers and mercenaries. Take it down, and the immediate danger ends.
The distance closed in seconds. I approached from behind for a sneak attack but gave up on the wildly thrashing tail—one hit was instant death.
I overtook the freyker and slipped into the fleeing mercenary group. And there was a familiar face: Alon.
"Hey. Nameless merc captain~"
Alon whipped around, face pale as a ghost.
"Y-You?"
"One's down over there. Gotta handle the last one, so lend a hand. Honestly, you caused this mess—take responsibility."
"What...? Graaah!"
Alon's body suddenly launched into the air, then crashed and rolled in the dirt. I'd grabbed his collar and yanked him off his mount. Covered in dust, he sprang up without a chance to faint and drew his sword—the freyker was barreling down right behind him, mouth agape.
"You bastard!"
Alon hurled curses and gripped his sword tight against the freyker. Then its head erupted in flames—the abyssal steed's fire breath. While it squeezed its eyes shut against the blaze, I leaped and slashed its back in an X, tearing off a huge chunk of flesh.
The freyker stiffened and collapsed dead. Monsters die instantly when their chaos core is extracted.
I landed lightly, wiped the blue blood from Yojjo on my pants, and picked up the severed flesh lump.
'This'll fetch a nice price.'
Inside the flesh was a large, transparent chaos core, fist-sized for a child—worth around 700 units easy. Solid income. Wholesale, it'd go for at least 30 gold leaves.
Alon stormed up and grabbed my collar.
"You! Didn't you hear me?!"
I brushed off his hand and glared murderously.
"I heard. So what?"
"You used me as bait!"
"And you're alive because of it."
Alon gaped in disbelief.
"What?"
"If you weren't bait, you'd be dead by my hand, not the freyker's. I forgive traitors, but never losers."
"You son of a—"
Alon started yelling but clamped his mouth shut. Yojjo, wreathed in aura blade, was at his throat.
"Want me to kill you now?"
"N-No, sir..."
Alon backed away. His mercenaries had returned and stood at a distance, but none dared help.
"Scram."
Alon fled in terror. Zenbe, watching impassively, approached.
"Hey, human. Why provoke unnecessarily? Those types bow in front but sharpen knives behind."
"I know. That's why I let him go alive."
"Huh?"
I smirked slyly.
"Think a merc captain comes alone? He'll bring his whole crew. We loot 'em all. How much you think that's worth? Heh heh heh."
"You...?"
As I walked off, I poked the grimacing Zenbe's side.
"Just say the word. I'll cut you in."
"Pass!"
"Sulking again? Just trying to make a living."
"You'll get in over your head. Being a master doesn't block every ambush."
"True. But I didn't survive to the end because I'm a master. No—master glory put me at the front of the death march. Wonder how it was for you, old man."
"I... uh..."
Zenbe ground his teeth under my piercing gaze and looked away.
Zenbe had once waged war against the Red Fang tribe led by Grolmog out of pride as a top berserker master and divine blessing, only to be utterly crushed.
"Don't sweat it. Wasn't really asking for an answer. Heh heh heh."
I chuckled as I brushed past him.
I headed to the freyker Zenbe had killed. He'd turned it into minced meat—nice—but skipped the important finish: extracting the chaos core.
This orc really had no sense for money.