Chapter 132
Chapter 132
Iron Emperor — Chapter 132
Uru, who had been drawing another arrow from his quiver, furrowed his brow and slid the half-drawn arrow back in.
"Ngh..."
With the result not matching his intention, a sigh laced with regret escaped Uru's lips.
"The hell? They're running!"
Before the sigh had even faded, Buru roared in fury, and Uru's face twisted as if he'd bitten into dung.
"Damn it."
For the first time, a note of dismay crept into Uru's voice. As they watched Marquis Ferguson's formation receding, a low voice reached their ears.
"Do not leave a single enemy horseman alive."
Go Jin-cheon had approached from behind them without a sound, standing there still drenched in blood that had yet to cool.
"We'll sweep up the ones they left behind."
"Understood."
They had missed a golden opportunity, but Jin-cheon offered no reproach.
This battle was never meant to decide their fate in the first place. Their task was merely to give South Roselin some breathing room. If they achieved that much, then even if they disappeared from the battlefield afterward, the enemy would neither easily learn of their existence nor have the leisure to investigate it.
Aaaagh!
Jin-cheon stood watching, as if appreciating the spectacle, while the knights Marquis Ferguson had left behind screamed and tumbled to the earth one by one.
"Finish them off quick and reform the ranks!"
Buru's shout echoed across the battlefield as it slowly settled into order.
* * *
No matter how thorough the defenses, they could not hold off the main force led personally by Marquis Helios Baikal indefinitely.
As the defensive line built around the palisade collapsed, Marquis Baikal allowed himself a faint smile while watching the soldiers of North Roselin pull back to the rear as if by prior agreement.
"Fortunate."
"Indeed. We broke the enemy line faster than expected. We must press this momentum immediately!"
Baron Silen Bels, who had been watching the elite Eastern Army of South Roselin as they retreated behind their shattered line, echoed Marquis Baikal's words with excitement. But the Marquis merely stroked his chin and glanced meaningfully at Baron Bels.
"What is fortunate is not that we broke their line quickly."
"Ah!"
Only then did Baron Bels's expression shift oddly.
"You mean the enemy's guard knight order."
"Mm."
Had the guard knight order of Marquis Ferguson, which could be considered the core of the North Roselin knight orders, intervened, they could not have punched through so easily. Grasping Marquis Baikal's thoughts, Baron Bels slowly spoke up.
"In my assessment, it will likely be some time before they appear before us."
"Who would have thought the Hawk Corps would prove such a mighty force."
At Marquis Baikal's satisfied remark, Baron Bels let out a bitter smile. Without the unit augmented by the Hawk Corps, this operation probably would never have existed.
The Marquis had remained half-skeptical of the Gauri army until now.
'Your Excellency, they are War Demons.'
Baron Bels, who had been observing the Gauri forces in battle, could not bring himself to speak those words aloud and turned his eyes back to the battlefield.
"You curs of South Roselin! Face the sword of Baron Hwirian!"
"A final desperate thrash."
A knot of horsemen charging out caught the eyes of Marquis Baikal and Baron Bels. It was plainly no cavalry unit composed of knights, but the man leading them, his sword drawn, was a familiar figure.
"I ought to oblige him. Hohoho."
Smiling, Marquis Baikal made to spur his horse forward.
Baron Hwirian was a knight of such martial prowess that the Sword Master himself was about to move personally. But beside him, Baron Bels quietly intervened.
"That will not be necessary."
"Hm."
He caught sight of a dozen or so horsemen racing toward Baron Hwirian's mounted troop.
"Those are..."
As Marquis Baikal's mouth opened slightly, Baron Bels nodded. They were Samdopyo and his soldiers, the men who had accompanied him to the South Roselin camp.
"Hmph. Kill them as brutally as you can!"
As Dupyo's voice echoed from the vanguard, the soldiers behind him roared their acknowledgment.
"Aye!"
"Goblins before an orc!"
Baron Hwirian of North Roselin spat the words as he surged toward the oncoming Dupyo's party. It passed for a stratagem of provocation, but the reaction on this side was indifference.
"Hmph. Orc, goblin—same thing."
A comparison to mere livestock was unfit for these men.
The moment the thought finished crossing Dupyo's mind, the two groups collided.
Cr-cr-crash!
The savage impact nearly unhorsed Baron Hwirian, but he barely steadied himself by gripping the reins and spurring his mount on.
'What the—!'
He did not voice it, but the force he had felt in that collision surpassed his own.
"Impossible..."
Seeing half the shield he had raised to deflect the opponent's club torn completely away, Baron Hwirian felt tension surge anew.
"Who are you!"
Wheeling his horse around, Baron Hwirian demanded of the giant who had struck and passed him. It was Samdopyo.
"Your daddy."
"Gah!"
Dupyo's counter-provocation hit the already rattled baron squarely in his pride. But the unknown opponent's skill made him all the more tense.
"No...!"
As he steadied his breathing, what entered his sight were a dozen-odd horsemen scattered across the ground—all of them the riders he himself had led.
They had been no knights, but the men now rolling in the dirt were not the sort to be thrown aside so easily. And yet the fact remained that they had failed to unhorse even a single enemy rider. Baron Hwirian's mind grew steadily more frantic.
"You must be Marquis Baikal's guard knights!"
Though their uniforms differed, Baron Hwirian shouted out that conviction. But the answer that returned...
"Dogshit! We got nothing to do with that old man!"
...was devoid of all decorum.
Propriety on the battlefield was worth less than a stray dog to begin with, but this was no exchange befitting nobles.
Baron Hwirian's task was to buy even a little time for the soldiers to withdraw and reform a defensive line. But sensing the situation turning against him, he resolved to stall by exchanging words—even meaningless ones.
"You! Face me in single combat!"
"Hmph! Fine!"
When Dupyo accepted, Baron Hwirian smiled inwardly.
'So long as I drag out this single combat with him.'
But the moment that thought formed, Baron Hwirian's eyes flew wide open.
It was not just Dupyo charging at him—the rest of the horsemen were coming too. The desperate baron spurred his horse and shouted.
"You accepted single combat! What is the meaning of this!"
The answer that met Baron Hwirian's roar was grim.
"Hmph! You get single combat with me—my men get pack combat with yours! Satisfied?"
Baron Hwirian swallowed the words 'The hell it is!' that had risen to his throat and spurred his horse forward.
"Hraaaap!"
A monstrous howl burst from Dupyo's lips as the Ink Mace came crashing toward Baron Hwirian. Sensing he was at a disadvantage in raw strength, the baron angled his sword and let the blow slide past.
CLANG!
"Hup!"
The club that came with that howl carried no force behind it. At the same instant, a dull crack sounded and his horse screamed.
Thwack!
"Kee-hee-heeng!"
"Aaargh!"
Seeing the small axe buried not in himself but in his horse's skull, Baron Hwirian hurled himself clear. Yet what landed safely on the ground with that swift motion was only a body missing its head.
A low murmur of admiration escaped Marquis Baikal's lips.
"Ho-oh..."
"Keep pressing them! All forces forward!"
Starting with Baron Hwirian's head bursting apart and scattering, the North Roselin horsemen who had at least been shielding the rear crumbled like leaves falling in the wind.
As if determined not to miss the moment, Baron Bels's command followed immediately, while Marquis Baikal displayed his regard for Dupyo's martial accomplishment so casually demonstrated.
"I'd like to lure him over, whatever rank it takes."
At the Marquis's words, Baron Bels's eyes held a shadow of regret.
"Well?"
Marquis Baikal was asking whether winning him over was even possible. Meeting the Marquis's veiled glance, Baron Bels opened his mouth in a subdued voice.
"It is impossible."
"Impossible?"
Not difficult—impossible. Baikal's eyes widened at the definitive verdict, and Baron Bels recalled the image of Dupyo during the earlier fortress siege, roaring as though he were vomiting his very soul.
Watching Baron Bels slowly shake his head while staring at the ground, a strange smile crept onto Marquis Baikal's face.
'Gauri... Once this battle is over, I suppose I shall see for myself.'
The Marquis grasped his reins and rode forward, urging the advancing soldiers on. For now, it was time to fight the battle before them.
Chapter 38 - Come Empty-Handed, Leave with Full Hands
Unlike the South Roselin forces pressing their momentum deeper into the attack, the Gauri army was reforming its ranks in the North Roselin rear. Gathered together, the command staff under Go Jin-cheon were deep in discussion, utterly ignoring the enemy camp that was eyeing their movements with suspicion.
"Are the ranks reformed?"
"They are. And General Yeon's party has returned safely."
Jin-cheon nodded at Eulji Buru's response and gazed out toward the front.
The enemy camp lay within his sight. At that moment, several riders came galloping from the sector held by the Hawk Corps. At their head was Revion Gowin—now Daesaja rather than Baron—with the Beskin brothers following behind.
"Your Majesty, why have you halted the advance...?"
Upon arriving, Gowin looked at Jin-cheon with baffled eyes.
"No need to strain ourselves."
At those indifferent words, a look of realization flickered across Gowin's face.
In short, it meant Gauri was not the main actor on this battlefield. Preserving the strength of the unit took priority over piling up achievements.
"Simply holding will suffice."
The mere fact that the Gauri army was holding firm in the rear forced the North Roselin forces to split their attention. That was why they had struck with such overwhelming force during the initial breakthrough.
The reason Jin-cheon had wasted strength and slaughtered so savagely at the outset was to sear terror into the enemy's minds. Even now, the North Roselin soldiers' eyes still flickered with fear whenever they looked toward the Gauri army.
"Holding, you say..."
Jin-cheon's lips parted slightly. The subtle furrow of his brow suggested he was weighing something. Gowin and the Eulji Brothers quietly watched him.
"Gowin."
"Yes."
As Jin-cheon spoke, Gowin dipped his head slightly.
"Feeding that many mouths must take a fair bit of provisions."
"Indeed."
"Could you pinpoint the location?"
Along with the eerie curl rising at the corner of Jin-cheon's lips, a smile sketched itself across Gowin's ordinarily stoic face as well.
"You're aiming for two birds with one stone."
At Gowin's remark, Jin-cheon replied shortly.
"Three."
If they struck the enemy camp and destroyed its supplies at the same time, they would both disrupt the enemy's rear and cripple their ability to wage a protracted war. And the third...
"Throwing away food earns punishment."
Gowin revised his thinking—not destruction of supplies, but seizure.
"Then we'd best move out shortly."
As Jin-cheon pulled his helmet down, Gowin's party spurred back toward their own camp, and the soldiers, seeing their commanders, began adjusting their grips on their weapons one by one.
"Advance!"
When the commanders' orders to march were relayed, the drummers swung their sticks.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
Perhaps because the situation differed from the initial ambush, the drumbeats echoing across the battlefield stirred a strange excitement.
"Th-they're coming!"
In contrast, the North Roselin camp began to stir uneasily, as if the earlier terror was now amplified by the drums.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
Step-step-step-step!
Whether by design or by chance, the drumbeats and the soldiers' marching footsteps fell into uncanny synchronization. The rhythm began to reverberate through the very earth—and then to synchronize with the pounding of the North Roselin soldiers' hearts.
"Archers forward!"
"Forward!"
The archers of the Gauri army began stepping out.
These were not the supreme Maekgung made of minotaur horn or water-buffalo horn, but the composite bows, crafted precisely from ox ribs, still outranged the bows of the North Roselin army several times over.
"Keep advancing!"
Even though they had entered range, the archers moved on without yet stringing their bows.