Chapter 135
Chapter 135
Iron Emperor — Chapter 135
"If we keep fighting wars like this, we'll be rich in no time."
"Right! Heh-heh-heh!"
Uru chimed in with Eulji Buru's gleeful remark as they swiftly looted only the supplies and slipped away. Unlike Marquis Ferguson, who was still half-mad with rage, Go Jin-cheon and his party wore smiles on their faces.
And why wouldn't they? The supplies they'd plundered included the spoils of war the North Roselin army had amassed. One of the things the Gauri people and the people of this continent had in common was a fondness for shiny things.
Case in point: dangling from Buru's neck was a necklace engraved with intricate patterns.
"This one's for our pretty Sara. Heh-heh-heh!"
Buru's cheerful voice rang out once more. Watching them, Jin-cheon smiled deeply and tossed out a remark.
"Our way of life has always been to come empty-handed and leave with full hands."
"Exactly!"
To arrive with empty hands and depart with hands full.
No phrase suited the present situation better.
Later, historians would call this phrase the war philosophy of the Gauri army.
Chapter 39 — The Battle's End
The sword of Marquis Helios Baikal cut down the North Roselin soldiers who stood against him as easily as slicing through rotten sheaves of straw.
Was it because he had seized the momentum of battle?
His swinging blade was charged with overwhelming power, and the North Roselin soldiers who were thrown back collapsed weakly to the ground.
"Drive these wretches from our land!"
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
The line was nothing if not clichéd, but the man shouting it was none other than the War God of the East. The roar of the soldiers rose higher than ever, and even the last of the stout defensive walls was crumbling away.
"We've breached it!"
"Charge forward!"
As the final barrier of the North Roselin camp collapsed, a cry erupted from the blood-drunk soldiers of South Roselin, a howl more like a monstrous shriek.
They were already surging forward before the commander's charge order could even fall.
SWISH!
"Aagh!"
"You fox-like bastard!"
A South Roselin soldier's scream of death, drunk on fervor, was followed instantly by a voice seething with fury.
"Baikal! From now on I should call you not the War God of the East, but the Fox of the East!"
"Good heavens. Marquis Ferguson, what has you so terribly vexed?"
The source of the fury was Marquis Malain Ferguson. As he and his knights blocked the South Roselin elite, Marquis Baikal drawled in a tone of mock puzzlement.
"Where has that proud knight order of yours gone? Surely you don't imagine you can stop me, Baikal, with just this much?"
"Kh."
Failing to know the enemy's main combat strength is a discourtesy to one's opponent in war. Marquis Baikal spoke in a deliberately nonchalant manner even as he scanned his surroundings. He was wondering whether some kind of trap lay in wait.
But Baron Silen Bels, who had drawn near at his side, whispered quietly.
"Your Excellency, look at their condition."
"Condition?"
At his words, Marquis Baikal looked at the knights whom Marquis Ferguson had brought with him, and a faint smile crept across his face.
"You scoundrels dare mock me!"
Perhaps it was because he had seen Marquis Baikal's smile.
Marquis Ferguson's face flushed a deep scarlet.
The knights around Marquis Ferguson wore armor dented in every which way and smeared with blood. Any man who looked at them could guess at once what had happened.
"Oh, my! What has become of the armor of the Marquis Ferguson knight order? They must have drilled themselves quite hard. Ha-ha-ha-ha!"
"You insolent cur! Do you think I don't know that you've deployed the main force of your knight order to the rear? Stop your bluffing!"
Marquis Ferguson's fury was hurled straight at Marquis Baikal. Though Baikal smiled all the more at the sight, he too was perplexed.
'He's deployed the main strength of his knight order. Does that mean they were reduced to such ruin in a single clash with the knight order of this place called Gauri?'
His bewilderment was one thing, but whatever the case, the present situation favored the South Roselin army.
"Very well then, have a taste of that bluff. Yah!"
As Marquis Baikal spurred his horse forward with a hearty shout, his knights began to charge after him.
"Fine! I fell for your scheme once, but I will not fall for it twice!"
Marquis Ferguson took up Baikal's words and charged forward, and the North Roselin knights charged out to meet him.
They, like Marquis Ferguson, believed that most of the main strength of the South Roselin knight order must also be the ones who had fought in the rear, and that the force charging toward them with Marquis Baikal at the front was nothing more than reserve forces or hastily assembled troops.
CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!
"Kraaagh!"
"Hee-hee-hee-hiiing!"
The moment the collision began, the pitiful cries of horses and the sight of knights tumbling to the earth with three or four lances embedded in their bodies flowed forth in misery.
Crimson blood splattered into the air.
However badly the Gauri army had bloodied them, the North Roselin knight order was still the elite of the elite. And now their fury was unleashing a strength that surpassed their own natural power.
"Come!"
HUMMMMM!
Red Aura blazed vividly on Marquis Baikal's sword. It was the emblem of a Master, and a sign that proclaimed the War God of the East.
"Ha-yaaaa!"
A battle cry exploded from the mouths of three North Roselin knights charging straight at Marquis Baikal.
They too were formidable warriors.
Although it was not one-on-one but three men who threw themselves at him, that they dared to do so was itself proof of their strength.
CLANG!
A detonation rang out.
Though it was but swords meeting swords, the thunderous blast was loud enough to drown out all the other din of the battlefield.
"Kh!"
"Hoh."
When a North Roselin knight grimaced and drew back a step, Marquis Baikal let out a sound of what seemed genuine admiration. Then the other two swords came flying straight at him.
SWISH!
SWISH!
"Haap!"
The clamorous sound of clashing blades rang out once more. The two knights who had been forced back by Marquis Baikal's Aura Blade were replaced by the knight who had first stumbled, charging at him again.
After exchanging several more bouts, Marquis Baikal furrowed his brow slightly.
'They have no intention of settling this?'
The assault was sharp, but the swordplay bore no reckless over-commitment.
The North Roselin knights were attacking just enough and then pulling back, a pattern that anyone could recognize as a stalling action.
"Kill the enemy's campaign strategist!"
The furious roar of Marquis Ferguson echoed Marquis Baikal's own thoughts. The North Roselin knights fixed their blazing eyes on Baron Silen Bels and charged at him.
If the North Roselin forces did not know Baron Bels — Marquis Baikal's closest aide and the man called the brains of the Eastern Army — then they might as well have come not to wage war but to enjoy a frolic.
Unusually, the killing intent in the eyes of the North Roselin knights was almost palpable.
"Kill that bastard without fail!"
Marquis Ferguson's sword pointed at Baron Bels.
'Without fail!'
Killing each other on the battlefield was a matter of course, but a voice that sounded as though it addressed a mortal nemesis made Baron Bels look wide-eyed like a startled rabbit. Indeed, the killing intent in the eyes of the charging knights overflowed and seemed almost to spill over.
"Waaa!"
"Avenge your comrades!"
The words spilling from the mouths of the bloodthirsty North Roselin knights had Baron Bels's face turning into a portrait of injustice.
'Who on earth did I kill...?'
He looked at the charging enemy, then glanced at the enemy knight he had just cut down.
He felt utterly wronged.
"Eudeuk!"
Marquis Ferguson felt a sensation as if his head had suddenly cleared.
He concluded that the reason Baron Bels, who had always been at Marquis Baikal's side in every battle, had been nowhere to be seen for so long was precisely to devise a scheme such as this one.
And so he raged.
Imagine running a race and tripping over a stone, all while leading the pack in first place....
Ever since he had marched into this war, a war he could not possibly lose, his path forward had lain paved in gold. Yet here, in this final clash, he felt as though he had tumbled headfirst into a field of dung.
"I will kill him without fail."
Marquis Ferguson reaffirmed his oath.
CLANG!
"Kkung!"
Samdopyo's face twisted in obvious displeasure as he blocked the swords of the charging North Roselin knights. It was less that he was outmatched and more that he was simply annoyed.
"Captain, what the hell is this!"
The voice of a subordinate who had been fending off North Roselin knights on one side jabbed at Dupyo's composure.
Crunch!
"Kkraagh!"
"Kung! I don't know either!"
Dupyo exploded in a shout even as a North Roselin knight's dying scream faded, his torso collapsing off his horse with its flank caved in.
"That damned little troublemaker!"
A voice erupted that spoke the hearts of every subordinate fighting desperately.
* * *
"Tch."
A click of the tongue slipped from Gye Ung-sam's lips as he stood, his body thoroughly blackened with soot, staring toward the direction where the battle was raging.
"I should've taken that bastard, whatever his name is, Bers or something, with me."
Ung-sam envied Dupyo, who was probably just going through the motions of fighting and lounging around. And besides, isn't being close to the commander-in-chief supposed to be the cushiest post of all? If it had been him, he wouldn't be in this place looking like he'd been struck by lightning.
"Dupyo's got it good."
The scent of roasted flesh still lingered on his own body.
"I think I'm a pretty damn good senior."
Ung-sam was busy praising himself. Suddenly a conversation that had taken place before they departed came to mind.
'Uh, Daesaja Gye. His Majesty only ordered me to earn my keep, so what excuse would I give? I'm still going as an envoy to announce a joint operation.'
'Hmm... Just open a breach in the attack for them and then stick close to that guy, Bers or whatever his name is, and guard him. Whatever the case, he's just a staff adjutant, so even when the fighting starts, the enemy's target will be the man named Baikal. So you can just take it easy and coast through the fight.'
'Heh, I see. Thank you, Daesaja!'
'You little rascal.'
At the memory that abruptly surfaced, Ung-sam smiled to himself like a madman — until his eyes fell upon a subordinate of his groaning from his wounds.
"Damn it. When he gets back, I'm going to run him ragged."
His resentment over his subordinate's pain flew straight at Dupyo.
Misunderstanding begets misunderstanding.
* * *
"If you advance, I won't let you off easy!"
CRASH!
A guttural roar burst from Dupyo as he drove back the North Roselin knights who were charging in as though killing Baron Bels was the entire purpose of this battle.
A thought flickered through his mind: indeed, a man has to put his trust in trustworthy people.
"Kheuk! Baikal, you fox-like bastard!"
Seeing his knights unable even to get close to Baron Bels and being thrown back by his escorts, Marquis Ferguson quaked at their meticulous preparations. It became all the clearer that Baron Bels was the mastermind behind this entire operation.
"Without fail...!"
This battle would surely bring great changes to the war to come. In such a situation, the best course was to eliminate an enemy who was certain to become an obstacle.
"I absolutely must kill him."
Marquis Ferguson's low voice seeped across the battlefield.
When the enemy had suddenly charged at Baron Bels, Marquis Baikal had at first felt a touch of impatience at the unexpected development. But once Samdopyo and his company had proven that they could fend them off with ease, his sword grew steady and composed once more.
SWISH!
"Kh-heo-eok!"
Marquis Helios Baikal's sword swept past in a blur. A short, terminal gasp escaped as the chest of the knight blocking his path split open, armor and flesh alike parting, and blood gushed forth.
"Haap!"
Slash!
"Uh!"
CLANG!
The moment one man fell, the balance collapsed.
Marquis Baikal's second swing sheared the sword of the knight who blocked it in half. Consternation was written plainly on the face of the North Roselin knight. He hurriedly reached for the short sword buckled to his saddle, but Marquis Baikal was faster.
"Kyle!"
A voice full of anguish cried out the name of the collapsing knight, but that was all.
Shunk!
"Krgh."
The sword that flew like a flash of light punched through the nape of the last man's neck.
At last freed, Marquis Baikal turned his eyes to survey his surroundings. Unlike their initial fury, the North Roselin knights' movements were growing ever more sluggish.
"Ferguson! Face me!"
"Stop him!"
North Roselin knights threw themselves at Marquis Baikal at his hearty challenge. But they lacked the skill of the knights who had first blocked his path, and could not withstand even one or two of his strokes before tumbling from their saddles.
"Come out!"
SWISH!
"Keu-eu-eu...."
Pulsseok.
Marquis Baikal's sword, having passed clean through the waist of the last knight who barred his way, now pointed directly at Marquis Ferguson.
"You wretch! Baikaaal!"
Marquis Ferguson's furious voice tore forth. But that was all — he did not let himself be drawn into Marquis Baikal's provocation. He knew all too well that his own skill fell short when pitted against him.
"Protect His Excellency the Marquis!"
The cries of the North Roselin knights left a wound in Marquis Ferguson's heart. The corpses of the fallen North Roselin knights came into view.
When he had thought about the main strength of the knight order that had withdrawn to the rear, he had judged that the knight order Marquis Baikal now led must be a hastily thrown-together force. He had calculated that while the three strongest among them held Marquis Baikal at bay, his own knight order could whittle down the enemy sufficiently.
But now, with Marquis Baikal charging straight for him, contrary to his expectations, the bodies of North Roselin knights only kept piling up.
"Because of the battle in the rear...."
Marquis Ferguson thought that if only his knights had not been utterly exhausted, they would not be losing in such a wretched fashion. As time passed, the North Roselin knights would fall one by one.
"Knight order, withdraw!"
"Withdraw!"
"Fall back to the rear!"
As Marquis Ferguson's order fell, the North Roselin knights began to extricate themselves swiftly. But the South Roselin knights had no intention of letting them go peacefully.
"Keuaaagh!"
As a North Roselin knight's dying scream faded, his back split open as he fell, Marquis Ferguson turned eyes veined with blood upon Baron Bels and roared.
"Silen Bels! Someday I will gouge out your eyeballs and chew them up!"
Marquis Ferguson's agonized cry plunged Marquis Baikal into bewilderment. Why was he so desperate to kill his staff officer, who had only now returned to the battle?
Watching the infantry advance in the wake of the retreating North Roselin forces, Marquis Baikal drew near Baron Bels and asked with a grave expression.
"Just what... did you do...?"
The question, laden with perplexity, trailed off at the end. But Baron Bels, who ought to answer, wore the face of a man about to weep.
"All I did... was risk my life to make it here!"
The answer Marquis Baikal heard was the wail of Baron Bels, so wronged he could have died.