Chapter 73
Chapter 73
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Slave Uprising
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"How many slaves are causing trouble?"
"Lord Shaiven, it's not just trouble. All the slaves have risen up."
Shaiven felt himself calming down as his rage grew too intense.
"All of them? The full 1,200?"
Shaiven's adjutant replied.
"Yes. All the soldiers guarding the slaves have been taken down. Most of them aren't even armed, so we're somehow holding them back from fleeing the camp, but..."
"And?"
"We lack the manpower."
"You can't handle unarmed slaves with spears and swords?"
The adjutant hesitated before answering Shaiven's question.
"There are far more slaves than the soldiers guarding the camp. And these slaves are... strangely aggressive."
"Aggressive how?"
"Yes. I don't know what's gotten into them. Even though our soldiers are armed, the slaves are swarming in groups, disrupting our formations and turning it into a melee. In the chaos, even if our soldiers kill several slaves, the slaves don't falter—they charge in, kill our men, and seize their weapons."
Shaiven shook his head.
His adjutant had misjudged the slaves.
That wasn't aggression. It was courage.
'Rakrak... Did you plan for this when you opened the gates?'
Rakrak wasn't reckless or relying on luck.
Shaiven suspected even the one cavalryman reaching inside the gates had been part of Rakrak's calculations.
'...So he didn't grow up just fighting weak tribes in some remote peninsula corner.'
Shaiven regretted using the slaves as arrow fodder, but it was too late for regrets now.
"Lord Shaiven?"
"What?"
"Blood from your nose..."
Shaiven sighed.
A soldier brought a linen cloth, and Shaiven wiped the blood away.
The adjutant and soldiers listening in exchanged uneasy glances at the sight.
For a vampire to bleed was more significant than for other races.
Vampires survived by draining the blood other races were so reluctant to lose.
Because of that, vampires gained resilient vitality, and those closer to the First Fang like Shaiven possessed superior physical abilities.
Vampires bled far less often than other races.
Yet to bleed without any wound carried profound implications related to faith, even if it wasn't Shaiven himself.
'No. This can't be a sign from the god. The god blaming me? Impossible.'
Shaiven tossed the bloodied cloth to the ground.
His face was streaked with blood.
"What are you staring at?"
"N-nothing. Sorry."
"...We must seize the fortress by morning at the latest. We're making slow progress, but more soldiers are reaching the walls than before. Some have even climbed up. All forces must focus on assaulting the walls."
"You mean... you can't spare any troops? We just let the slaves escape?"
The adjutant pushed back against Shaiven's orders.
"Even if we take the mountain fortress, we need slaves to haul supplies and do the grunt work. Without them, soldiers can't fight properly. Above all, those slaves are our food supply. This isn't just a fortress—it's a mountain stronghold. With only the garrison there, if the enemy besieges it, we won't last."
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what...?"
"Don't you get it?"
Shaiven pulled his adjutant into an embrace like a lover.
The adjutant realized the meaning too late.
"Lord Shaiven, no... Gah!"
Shaiven's fangs pierced the adjutant's nape.
Blood spurted violently from the gaping hole in the carotid, splattering Shaiven's palate and throat.
Shaiven sucked and gulped down the adjutant's blood.
The adjutant's heart, pounding moments ago, slowed to a stop.
Shaiven shoved aside the lifeless body.
"Finally... my head's clearing. Guess I was short on blood after that nosebleed."
No one dared meet the blood-smeared Shaiven's gaze as he turned.
Treating other races like livestock was one thing, but cannibalism among vampires was taboo.
Shaiven bared his blood-reddened fangs in a smile.
"You all look like you have something to say. Or not? But you'll agree. This fool demanding troops for unarmed slaves..."
Shaiven kicked the fallen adjutant's head.
The massive fang wounds tore open wider.
Blood gushed from ruptured vessels, soaking the dirt.
"He's no longer one of my soldiers. Is there a general to stop the slaves? ...No one?"
One general finally stepped forward.
"I-I'll go."
"Troops?"
"I-it'll be fine. I'll hold them off with the garrison."
"Good. That's the spirit. Go."
After the general hurried off, Shaiven pointed arbitrarily at another vampire there.
"You."
"Yes!"
"You're my adjutant now."
"Th-thank you."
"Fetch my armor."
Shaiven glared at the distant mountain fortress visible through the trees.
"I'll open the gates myself."
Rakrak was atop the walls, rallying the warriors.
A watchman from the fortress's summit tower brought the news Rakrak had hoped for.
"There's some commotion at the enemy's camp."
"Be more precise."
"From what I saw, crowds moving between their tents, weapons glinting in the moonlight, and many more torches. It was dark at night, and they're deep in the forest, so I couldn't see clearly. Sorry."
"No, that's good enough."
Quezl spoke up.
"...Could we have miscounted their forces? Reinforcements maybe?"
"No."
Rakrak said.
"Weapons glinting in the moonlight means a fight."
"A fight? Dan Yeom, Seok Myeon, and Yur's army are still far off. It can't be a fight."
"It is a fight."
"Then who against whom...?"
"The vampires' slaves. Why else would the torches increase? Vampires need minimal light."
Quezl couldn't easily accept it, yet knew Rakrak was right.
"Still strange. If true, it favors us more. Why are the slaves rebelling against vampires so conveniently?"
Rakrak smiled bitterly.
This adjutant Quezl was smart enough, but needed more experience.
Rakrak ignored the question and said,
"Might be good to ready the cockatrice warriors."
"Pardon?"
"Quezl, if I'm right, what happens next?"
Quezl furrowed his brow in thought.
"The slaves alone number 1,200. Even unarmed, if all rise up, they'll need 300 soldiers at least. But then, the troops charging up that slope now... Morale will plummet. If the enemies ahead learn of it, it'll unsettle them too. No choice—send troops to suppress the slaves. Compromise: halt the attack briefly to boost morale. Ah, but look, Rakrak—they haven't stopped."
Rakrak posed another question.
"What if they don't send troops to suppress the slaves?"
"Pardon?"
"Answer."
"...Absurd hypothetical. But if so, they'd rush to settle it 'now.' If all slaves defected, enemies fight front and rear. Their only way to breach the gates would be relying on their god..."
Rakrak nodded slowly.
His gaze turned outside the walls.
"See."
Rakrak nodded toward the base of the walls.
Vampire Lord Shaiven was approaching.
Arrows flew at Shaiven, but each swing of his blade snapped them in two.
Shaiven and Rakrak's eyes met.
Shaiven pointed his sword tip at Rakrak and shouted,
"Rakrak! If you're not a coward, come out and face me!"
An absurd provocation, but backed by divine power—not mere bluff.
Rakrak ordered his attendant to prepare the cockatrice Anakse.
"Will you fight?"
"If not, that vampire will shatter the gates with divine power."
Quezl couldn't deny it.
"Soon after, slaves will hit from behind. When that happens, send the cockatrice warriors. We crush them in a pincer."
"As you command."
Meanwhile, Shaiven had other plans.
'The moment Rakrak opens the gates to come out, drive the hidden giant weasels through.'
The prolonged battle had piled corpses at the slope's base.
Behind that mound, Renar vampire riders on giant weasels waited.
Having infiltrated amid the chaos on Shaiven's orders, they awaited the gates' opening.
'Once the gates open somehow, they lose terrain and fortress advantages.'
In melee, Shaiven believed vampires held the edge.
A vampire's greatest weapon, in his mind, was their fangs.
Usable only a few times a day, the venom didn't guarantee instant submission.
Against foes resolved to kill or die, even Shaiven's strongest venom wouldn't yield generals' loyalty.
'But the venom causes intense pain and paralysis. No matter how strong the lizardmen...'
That was venom's trait for turning hostiles friendly, but valuable on the battlefield too.
'He won't jump straight down from the walls. Heard Rakrak has a mount.'
As Shaiven reached midway up the slope, Rakrak appeared riding the cockatrice Anakse.
But not through opened gates as hoped.
Anakse carrying Rakrak lightly flapped up to the walls.
Shaiven recoiled at the sight of Rakrak atop the walls, backlit by the half-moon.
"H-how?"
"Don't you know?"
Rakrak tapped Anakse's wings with his spear shaft.
"Things with wings fly."
Shaiven wanted to deny it wasn't that simple, but bafflement left him speechless.
-Kyaooo!
Anakse screeched, launching into the air.
Then dove at Shaiven talons-first.
Seong-un watched the duel from above.
'Overwhelming.'
With slaves not yet appearing from the rear, Quezl held back the cockatrice warriors.
Thus, Rakrak atop the walls had archer support, yet was dropped into the enemy's midst.
No one could stop Rakrak on Anakse.
When spear met sword, Shaiven yielded.
Shaiven's physical prowess could match mounted cavalry, but Rakrak was no ordinary rider.
Anakse was a cockatrice even ten hunters couldn't easily take, and Rakrak atop it was a level 21 hero.
Shaiven never got a chance to use his fangs.
Vampires couldn't close within Rakrak's spear reach.
Shaiven barely escaped without fleeing, needing aid from his prepared giant weasel cavalry to open the gates.
Yet Rakrak didn't seem surrounded.
Rather, he was encircling them.
'The slaves took down a vampire general too. Now they'll arm up and strike from behind. The issue is...'
Seong-un's thoughts halted as he doubted his eyes at the next message.