Chapter 65
Chapter 65
Iron Emperor — Chapter 65
One week after departing the lake, the advance of Gerard's unit came to a temporary halt.
"Hmm."
The halted ships made excellent temporary barracks. The reason their march had stopped was simple: in two more days, they would cross the Reganza Mountains.
And once they crossed?
A border line existed.
And at that border line?
Guards were posted.
No matter how well they hid themselves, who would simply stand and watch as ships traveled over land? Moreover, if anyone witnessed hordes of monsters hauling those ships, it might well be taken as the advent of the Demon King or some such, potentially earning both armies a wealth of glory. That was the problem weighing on Gerard's mind.
Why?
Because here, Gerard held the highest rank. Fleet Commander Jang was a man of the sea, and Gerard possessed the deepest knowledge of the continent, which was why Go Jin-cheon had placed him in overall command.
"Keh-heh."
Gerard let out a chuckle mid-thought. He surveyed his surroundings. The soldiers bustling about to set up camp filled his view.
The force included three hundred and fifty men from the existing Gauri veterans and sailors, plus two hundred and fifty newly incorporated recruits and some forty archers. Beyond those, adding camp cooks and workshop personnel brought the total to roughly seven hundred souls—all of them entrusted to Gerard himself. Fleet Commander Jang Bogo was certainly present and skilled in naval warfare, yet the supreme commander was Gerard.
"Is it boundless generosity, or sheer recklessness...?"
Watching the figures move about, Gerard's expression grew inscrutable.
After the evening meal, Gerard gathered Fleet Commander Jang Bogo, the captains of every vessel, and their first mates to confer.
"Reaching this point was simple enough. It's from here on that troubles begin."
Gerard murmured the words while staring at the map. The critical point was that they must not be discovered. If word spread that a fleet of this size had emerged from the Reganza, the Haian Kingdom would certainly not sit idly by.
"Excuse me, Daesaja."
"Hm?"
When Bogo quietly called to him, Gerard lifted his eyes from the map.
Bogo was forty years old and well along in years, yet informal speech slipped freely from Gerard's mouth. Perhaps it was because Jin-cheon had confiscated his translation bracelet before they set out, or perhaps he simply lacked manners—either way, respectful speech was absent from his tone. Of course, with Gerard holding the highest rank, no one raised the issue.
"The map clearly marks this as Haian territory. Why, then, do troops of the Henesia Holy Empire roam about?"
"Tch."
Bogo's question was perfectly reasonable. Gerard, too, seemed to find it reasonable—he clicked his tongue before launching into an explanation.
"Fleet Commander Jang's question is natural enough, but in truth, the Holy Empire's effective power reaches all the way east of this branch. That speaks to how feeble the Haian Kingdom's national strength is. Additionally, there's an iron mine in this region. The Holy Empire purchased the development rights to that mine, so they run rampant here under the pretext of protecting it."
"An iron mine!"
"Contain yourselves."
Since iron was one of their objectives, the captains' eyes flew wide. At their reaction, Gerard made a restraining gesture and slowly shook his head.
"If an iron mine lies so close, couldn't we simply raid it and carry off the ore?"
"Perhaps if this mine's output were small. But it's far too large to raid. Besides, do you imagine the Holy Empire would simply say, 'Oh dear, what a shame, we've been robbed,' and let the matter slide?"
"Hng."
"A demand for iron means someone is mass-producing weapons on a large scale. The Holy Empire would turn Haian inside out first. And then Haian would spill everything it knows—'We're innocent'—with pitiful expressions plastered on their faces. That much is certain."
Gerard even put on a pitiful expression himself as he explained. Watching him, everyone merely clicked their tongues and stared regretfully at the map. At that, Gerard let out a brief laugh and spoke again, as if to reassure them.
"Well, don't worry. The route that moves the pure iron refined from this mine's ore—that is our main stage. There's no pressing reason to steal raw ore."
"In that case, why don't they use overland routes?"
One of the captains seated off to the side asked curiously. Gerard laughed softly.
"Where do you think we are? This is the Reganza, famous for its monster—aha!"
"Pardon?"
"Keh-heh-heh-heh."
Gerard broke off mid-sentence and twisted his face into a bizarre smile. The captains and first mates looked at him as though he had lost his mind.
"Everyone, gather around."
"Yes!"
Gerard summoned all the captains to the map.
This place teemed with monsters—fewer than deeper in the mountains, certainly, but enough to discourage the overland transport of iron. Gerard resolved to exploit that very fact.
As if flaunting its reputation as a monster heaven, many monsters had made their homes in the Reganza Mountains. Today, a baby goblin was darting about at play, dodging the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the dense trees.
Rustle.
At the sound of brush scraping together, the baby goblin swiveled its ears and fixed its gaze in one direction.
Rustle.
"Kik-kiik?"
The moment it saw the brush stir, the baby goblin began to tense. Half a year ago, some human had appeared in the goblin village beyond the next mountain, kicked a baby goblin, and reduced the village to ashes. The memory flashed unbidden through its mind.
"Oh? Found one."
"Kiiiiiik!"
A human pushed through the undergrowth and emerged.
Black hair, sallow skin, and black eyes. The baby goblin recalled the rumor that had spread throughout the Reganza range.
Avoid humans with black hair and black eyes.
The baby goblin's feet began to shuffle backward.
"Look at this little fellow. Slipping away nice and sneaky."
"Kiik! Kik!"
In that instant, sensing the threat, the baby goblin turned its back. Did it miss its mother?
"Hup-cha!"
Bbaaang!
"Kiiiiiiiiii~!"
That thought was its last. With a shriek, the baby goblin felt a powerful kick slam into its backside and went sailing through the air. They say what goes up must come down, no wings required.
"Kiiiii!"
Thump.
From the baby goblin's mouth came no further sound. Nor any movement at all.
Rustle.
"Kik!"
"Kik-kik-kik!"
"Kiiiiiiik!"
The response came swiftly. Goblins guarding the village appeared, shrieking with fury at the man who had kicked the baby goblin. As they emerged, seeming to surround him from every direction, a fiery will to fight blazed in their eyes.
"Kiiiiik!"
A sharp cry burst from the mouth of one goblin, larger in frame than the rest.
"Well, well. Giving me the stink-eye, are we?"
"Kiik!"
The goblins, confirming their numbers, found their confidence. Just as they were about to clamp small daggers and poison-needle blow-tubes in their mouths, the soldier watching them moved his hand. As something in his grip pulled a cord taut, what burst forth was a sound that rooted the goblins' feet to the ground.
"Grrruuuuuuugh!"
"...!"
"Come on out, you bastard!"
Yanking the taut cord, the soldier bellowed once more. The goblins' eyes no longer held any trace of fight or fury.
All that remained was terror.
"Mrruuaaaaagh!"
What the soldier dragged forth by that cord, accompanied by a weighty roar, was a minotaur.
Monsters, too, were not exempt from the food chain. Imagine a puppy barking bravely and glaring before a lion. Or a monkey picking its ear at a tiger's roar. Or a mouse glaring down the cat in front of it.
Can you picture it?
"Kieeeeeeeek!"
"Kiiiiiiik!"
"MRRUWAAAAAAARGH!"
In an instant, the forest became utter chaos. The goblins shrieked to save their lives, and the minotaur bellowed from the pain biting through its nose-ring. Whether the minotaur roared because of the nose-ring or because it had been beaten half to death, to the goblins it was pure, undiluted terror.
"Works like a charm."
Watching the goblins scatter, the soldier glanced back and forth at the minotaur.
"Damn, all this fuss over this one...?"
Even as that soldier clicked his tongue, other soldiers were infiltrating the goblin village.
"Yaaawn."
Though close to the border, the state of Haian Kingdom's military discipline—as if personifying the kingdom's weakness—was remarkable. The soldiers standing watch wore uniforms that were unique to the point of overflowing, and their gazes into the darkness had taken complete cover, using their eyelids as ambush positions. Meanwhile, their noses continued to trumpet their presence in every direction.
"Grrrrrk... khhhuuuh."
"Damn. This fellow never stops sleeping."
"Hilton, get over here."
"Yeah, yeah."
Hilton walked over from one side, clicking his tongue at the man draped over his spear shaft sound asleep, then trudged toward the voice that had called him.
"Huh? Whoa—now that's artistry!"
"Heh-heh-heh."
As Hilton approached the firelight warming the night air, his eyes flew wide with wonder.
Above the blazing flames, chunks of meat and vegetables danced and leaped in a feast of aromas! The man who'd called Hilton was cooking—tossing food he'd sliced onto an overturned steel shield into the air and frying it right there.
"Where on earth did you get this?"
"That rabbit I snared earlier."
"Hoo-ee. Salomon, your cooking's the best, no question. Been a while since you bagged one, huh?"
At Hilton's words, Salomon cackled and answered.
"Ah, the trapping was so poor I shifted spots, and got one straight off."
"Hoo-ee, you're killing it."
"Hilton, you got any liquor?"
Hilton had been utterly entranced by the savory fragrance wafting from the shield-top cooking. Salomon jabbed him, searching for the one ingredient no proper meal could lack. Hilton nodded, clapped Salomon on the shoulder as if to say don't worry, and rose from his seat.
"Saw earlier that Allen's got some. Noticed him sleeping a bit ago. I'll go wake him and drag him over. Heh-heh-heh—with the liquor in tow."
"Keek-keek, hurry back!"
Leaving Salomon's laughter behind, Hilton walked briskly toward the sleeping Allen.
"Damn, it's gotten chilly. Alllleeen~."
The moment the slumbering Allen came into view, Hilton, buoyant with high spirits, sang the name out like a tune.
"Well, well?"
No answer from Allen despite the call.
"Tch. What, did he strike up a love affair with the widow next door in his dreams? Can't seem to tear himself away."
Grumbling, Hilton reached the sleeping man and raised his hand to smack the back of Allen's head.
"Ah! Hot—!"
Just as Hilton's hand was about to strike Allen's head, a sharp pain in his thigh made him flinch.
"Ah, goddammit. A bug, or... huh?"
As he reached down to rub his thigh, his fingers closed around something. A small needle. A sinister feeling washed over Hilton, and he lifted his head toward the darkness.
Rustle.
"Huk!"
"Kik-kik."
Hundreds of red eyes gleaming in the dark. Thin, distinctive voices. Goblins.
"Son of a bitch! Allen, wake up!"
Sliiide. Thud.
"Huk!"
Hilton had meant to wake Allen and flee, but the moment his hand touched the man, Allen collapsed limply. The sight tore a gasp from Hilton's throat. A warning klaxon blared through his mind—do not hesitate another second. Hilton spun and bolted.
Thump.
"Oof."
But his body defied his will. He hadn't taken a single full step before pitching face-first into the ground.
"Wha... why am I...?"
Hilton stared at his body as strength drained from it, bewildered. But he could no longer move, nor call out to his comrades. Even his head drooped. Cursing his own stiffened tongue, he could only watch with despairing eyes as the goblins surged toward him through the darkness.
Sssseukt.
"Kik-kik-ki!"
"Kik-kik!"
Thus, a dozen-odd soldiers stationed at the foothills of the range met their end, unable to raise any alarm, falling to paralytic needles followed by goblin daggers.