Struggle for Survival 2
Struggle for Survival 2
The contract with the city required the eradication of all hostile forces that could affect the trade route.
"If the threat has reached this far, trade in the surrounding area will be cut off."
The adventurer assigned by the city looked at Eugene with a slightly changed glint in his eye. He served as both guide and observer for a foreign army unfamiliar with the local terrain.
-They fought for three months with zero casualties on either side. Are they joking around right now!
-It's no joke. We may be lowly money-grubbers, but those are harsh words, aren't they? You wound me. How am I supposed to live with this grief?
-...
There was nothing particularly surprising about two hostile factions' hired mercenary companies secretly colluding with each other.
If someone belatedly discovered that they had been pretending to fight while merely draining wages and then cried foul, they would only earn mockery. 'Anyone who gets fooled by sellswords is the idiot,' after all.
Even less needed to be said when it came to monster extermination missions far from the city.
For forces like Eugene's army, whose combat strength was recognized and who were offered high fixed wages, the city needed its own form of insurance.
"You've been paid for that, haven't you? I have no intention of pulling out, so don't worry."
"Of course."
When Eugene, who had discerned the underlying intent, let out a short laugh, the adventurer bowed his head. City observer or not, he was the weaker party in every respect.
"Have the horse armor equipped."
At Eugene's command, the riders dismounted and pulled covers out from their saddles. It was horse armor in name, but in truth it was something halfway between a caparison and netting.
It was light and easy to put on, but its defensive strength was weak. It would struggle to stop even a conscript's hand axe, but it could filter out light projectiles.
"Those black needles must have been fired by the small-folk, right?"
"Yes. Their small stature means their limb strength is weak too. Whether swinging, thrusting, or drawing a bow, they can't generate proper force. However, their biting strength is no less than a feral dog's, so you must be careful."
"And we'll need to watch out for traps as well. It's time for you all to step up."
Several tribal warrior women, receiving Eugene's gaze, responded with a military salute. Confidence overflowed on the faces of the ladies clad in form-fitting leather garments.
They were elite skirmishers who had completed grueling training as both hunters and rogues. Their capability as pathfinders responsible for the safety of the army's marching route was of the highest order.
'Their shoulders are remarkably broad. What kind of conditioning have they been through?'
The women of the Black Hand Tribe were all healthy beauties with sharply defined abdominal muscles, but the warrior women selected as skirmishers were on another level entirely.
Even a reasonably strapping man would look more fitting tucked snugly into their embrace.
"As for the poison needles, they should be manageable since our protection against them is thorough. Their effective range is extremely short, after all."
The adventurer marveled at the sight of the army, which had virtually no exposed skin at all.
"Lungs the size of a fist can only muster so much breath no matter how hard they blow."
The creatures that hid in the underbrush with their small bodies and fired silent poison needles were certainly terrifying beings. But they had insurmountable weaknesses in power and range.
"We're advancing. Don't let your guard down just because they're small, and do not enter any area where the undergrowth rises above your thighs."
With the warrior women and Homi abreast at the vanguard clearing the way, Eugene's army set foot into the forest.
* * *
-Long ago, when our ancestors first entered this land, it was a living hell. It was a place where no one could possibly believe humans could live. The Gordians put on airs about driving the gnolls beyond the Shield Mountains, but compared to us, that was nothing.
Even across the whole history of the continent, the settlement of Samur was recorded as the campaign in which the greatest number of kings and nobles had died.
But their descendants of the present day honestly did not feel the weight of those words. This was because they had lived for a long time after the native species had been driven out and human territory had been firmly established.
However, recently, the mercenaries of Samur had begun to feel a desperate urge to question just how their ancestors had ever managed to accomplish that great task.
"Squad commander! You are the captain now!"
The Mongoose Mercenary Company, surrounded by small-folk in the forest, was being battered from all sides.
"Gather together first! If we scatter here, we'll only be hunted one by one!"
The squad commander was an ambitious man who had sworn he would rise to the position of captain someday. But this was not how he had wanted it to happen.
"Damn it! Getting tricked by monsters..."
It had begun when small-folk wearing glittering objects on their heads started loitering along the trade route.
-What's that? What are those things they're wearing on their heads?
-Gold necklaces! They got them from raiding traveling merchants!
The moment they realized those were all manner of jewels and ornaments, the mercenaries' eyes were instantly stained with greed.
-Were the small-folk ever interested in jewels?
-Captain! Give the order to attack!
A few mercenaries sensed something was wrong, but at the sight of the small-folk laden with valuables, most of the men lost all judgment.
The captain, who had already been conscious of his men's scrutiny after making many recent mistakes in managing the mercenary company, could not go against the prevailing tide.
The small-folk dropped jewels one by one as they fled, further inflaming the mercenaries' urge to pursue.
This was the result. Chasing the small-folk as they darted into the forest had scattered their formation, and at some point they had come under attack from every direction at once.
The captain, who had been commanding from the vanguard to display his authority, died instantly when his horse stepped on a trap, fell, and broke his neck.
"My foot! My foooot!"
"Angael!"
One mercenary, rushing to gather at the new captain's order, clutched his blood-soaked foot and screamed.
He had stepped on a trap laid on the ground, and a hole had been bored through the sole of his foot. It was crude and not lethal, but it was enough to strip him of his mobility.
As the underbrush shook wildly and rapidly closed in on him, the mercenary named Angael let out a scream.
"Kreee-!"
"Kihihihi-!"
Chilling laughter reached Angael's ears as he hopped desperately away on one foot.
"Gyaaagh!"
A searing pain shot through his ankle and Angael fell. One of the small-folk, baring sawlike teeth, had bitten through his Achilles tendon.
For the first time, Angael saw the cross-section of his own Achilles tendon and fell into despair. Before the terrible pain even registered, his instincts told him he was finished.
"N-no!"
Small-folk burst out from all sides and began savaging the mercenary with the pointed weapons in their hands and their teeth, like fire ants swarming a cicada fallen to the ground.
"Fire the crossbows!"
"But Captain! Angael is..."
"He's as good as dead anyway. Ease his suffering and send at least one of them along with him."
As his comrades aimed their crossbows at the captain's command, Angael pleaded even amid the onslaught.
"Don't shoot! Save m—"
With the sound of tearing flesh, the bolts fired by his comrades turned Angael into a corpse. A few small-folk that had exposed themselves while attacking were caught in the volley and killed as well.
The creatures were small and none of them wore armor, so even a single bolt strike was a fatal wound. The difficulty was landing that single shot.
"We'll retreat slowly like this."
"Aaaah, take us with you!"
The mercenaries who had been terrified by the sight of Angael stepping on a trap and dying horribly were slow to rejoin as they scrutinized the ground. But as their gathered comrades began to pull back without them, they could no longer afford to dawdle.
That was when the sound of hoofbeats and the presence of many people were felt from the direction of their escape route.
"It's reinforcements!"
"We're saved! We're saved!"
The mercenaries who spotted Eugene's army first let out cheers.
"Hey, thanks for helping, but up ahead there's—"
"Out of the way, you fucking idiots!"
The mercenaries who had been about to send both thanks and warning to the suddenly appeared rescuers fell silent at the fierce shouts of the warrior women.
"Women?"
Several mercenaries gaped at the sight of the tribal skirmishers whose voluptuous figures were plainly visible.
Even given the situation, the sight was simply too alluring. Perhaps it was precisely because their lives hung in the balance that their instincts were even more keenly stimulated.
"Which mercenary group is that?"
"Elites of that caliber couldn't possibly be unknown in these parts."
The rescuers were first-rate in both equipment and movement. Even their horses wore protective gear; comparing themselves to them was embarrassing.
But with no banner and everyone wrapped up here and there, their identity was difficult to determine.
Meanwhile, the tribal warriors mounted on warhorses loosed arrows in every direction. Sitting atop a horse provided not only mobility but a wider field of vision as well.
"Hiek!"
The men of the Mongoose Mercenary Company all flinched as arrows grazed past their cheeks or flanks.
"These bastards are using us as bait!"
"Shut up and raise your shields!"
The quicker-witted mercenaries realized that the rescue force was not coming in beyond a certain point and was using them as a wall of flesh.
But they had no choice but to shut their mouths at the new captain's rebuke. In any case, they could not afford to cause internal strife with their rescuers here.
"Kerrek-!"
"Kek-!"
Moreover, every time the arrows sliced through the wind, short groans could be heard from all around. They were the dying screams uttered by the small-folk.
"■■■■!"
"■■!"
The small-folk, realizing how the situation was turning, shouted something in their own language and all hid themselves in the underbrush at once.
The captain of the Mongoose Mercenary Company, pleased to see the enemy losing momentum, looked at Eugene.
"They're panicking! Let us retreat while we have the chance!"
"What are you talking about? These are creatures that have come down near the trade route. We have to wipe them out here. Otherwise, they'll just come back after some time passes."
"No, I'm telling you that going in there is madness!"
The mercenary captain stared at Eugene, who was casually intent on fighting, with a dumbfounded expression.
No matter how strong an army might be, a forest thick with undergrowth was home ground for the small-folk. Even a heavily armored knight could only be gnawed away little by little until he died in such a place.
But Eugene, naturally, had something he could rely on.
"Varda-nim. If you would."
"O forest. May you reveal, one by one, the unclean creatures that defile you..."
Varda, who had gathered nearby soil and grass seeds and combined them with reagents, chanted her spell. Spirits that had rooted themselves in the vicinity for thousands of years answered her prayer.
"Magic!"
"What am I looking at?"
The Mongoose mercenaries looked around in bewilderment.
Rustle...
With an eerie sound, the tall undergrowth all sank down at once. Not as if felled by a strong wind or flattened by being trampled, but as though prostrating itself flat of its own accord.
"■■■!?"
The small-folk that had been crouching in hiding were exposed en masse. Their vicious-looking faces—enough to put even small-folk to shame—were filled with shock. The Mongoose Mercenary Company savored their expressions as they aimed their crossbows.
"Shoot them all dead!"
At Eugene's command, arrows and bolts poured down in unison.
"Shoot, shoot!"
By the time the Mongoose Mercenary Company commander belatedly gave the order, the small-folk were already collapsing on all sides.
'These bastards? When I haven't even given the order yet.'
He mentally noted the subordinates who, caught up in the momentum, had loosed their crossbows under the knight's command. He planned to give them a good thrashing later.
An arrow through one of their tiny bodies left it skewered as if by a javelin.
Even if they tried to flee, their stubby legs were far too slow. They were adept at ambushing intruders who entered their territory while lying hidden, but in a situation like this, they were utterly helpless.
Hihihing!
"Whoa, whoa! Steady!"
The warhorses neighed in fright at the poisoned needles shot back in retaliation, even as the goblins were dying.
Thanks to the horse barding, not a single needle had lodged in their bodies, but horses were, by nature, easily frightened animals.
"Piiiii-!"
But as soon as Homi's clear whistle rang out firmly, even that ceased. The trembling eyelashes of the horses gradually settled into calm.
Homi's voice, concentrated with spiritual power and wildness, could subdue even a dire wolf she was seeing for the first time.
It was an even simpler task to soothe the souls of the horses who ordinarily received her touch at the Wandering Castle.
Tick!
Tick-tick!
As Eugene fired his arrows, he felt the poisoned needles striking his gloved hand and the insect mesh before falling to the ground.
He imagined getting hit by very heavy rain, one drop at a time from the side, would feel something like this. There was some sensation, but it was not threatening in the slightest.
Realizing that all was lost, a small number of small-folk began to flee. However, shaking off the cavalry's pursuit was an impossible task.
"We will help as well!"
"No, Captain. Why take such a risk..."
"You idiots. If we back out now, we might have to cough up all the loot we've collected."
"...!"
In the course of pursuing the small-folk, they had gathered a considerable amount of goods from the merchant caravan that had suffered the massacre.
But if they did nothing in a situation where their lives had been saved, it was impossible to claim ownership of it.
To be honest, even if they helped with the fighting now, it was questionable whether they would be guaranteed any spoils. Still, it was better than doing nothing at all.
"Caution on the left!"
"Trap below the rock!"
The tribal warrior women, dashing in formation at the very front, threw their short spears. These were lavishly painted as markers, not for combat.
Having instantly identified the small-folk traps, the warrior women planted their short spears at the locations as a warning.
"To identify them at a single glance, no matter how crude the traps... And they're fast enough to keep pace with the cavalry while running on foot."
"Because we cannot scan the ground from horseback. And it would be putting the cart before the horse if we fell behind our mounted allies, wouldn't it?"
At Eugene's admiration, Cassandra smiled. After joining his forces and only receiving various forms of support, she seemed pleased at the chance to prove their worth.
"Of course, the mage's assistance was also immense."
Even Cassandra had to admit that things had been easier because all obstructing undergrowth had been toppled.
"But that running posture is quite unique, isn't it?"
"It is the posture we take when we must urgently pursue while also searching for traps."
The tribal warrior women forging the path ran in a strange posture, something between bipedal and quadrupedal.
'No wonder their upper bodies were particularly well-developed.'
Their broad shoulders seemed to be the result of training that peculiar running method.
A posture with hips raised high, revealing the curve of the waist and the lines of the body to the extreme. And on top of that, they wore leather clothes that showed off their figures exactly as they were.
Gulp.
Watching that wild and beautiful sight from behind as they followed, the eyes of the Mongoose Mercenary Company members who had joined the chase grew as wide as millstones.
"Are you going to put those eyes away before I gouge them out?"
"Do you want to die?"
"Eeeek!"
"All right, we got it!"
Only after the tribal warriors aimed the arrows they were about to fire forward at them instead did the Mongoose Mercenary Company members come to their senses.
The pursuit ended before long.
Thud!
Small-folk struck by arrows at close range were pinned to the ground, the projectiles having pierced through their backs.
Thnk!
Some bled out their intestines, speared by the heavy cavalry's lances. The one that had clutched its belly, from which metal jutted out, and clawed at the air in a frenzy soon ceased moving.
Another tripped over a stone edge while looking back at the pursuing cavalry.
And as it happened, this one was at the very front, causing other small-folk to tumble down in a heap as they collided with their kin's body.
Rumble-rumble!
"Screeech-!"
Entangled on the forest floor, the small-folk stared up at the men and horses bearing down on them. The hooves trampled over them just like that.
CRUNCH!
CRACK-CRACK!
Dozens of sharp metal horseshoes crushed and tore apart those cunning but fragile bodies.
Shattered leg bones pierced through the backs of knees, and broken ribs stabbed into lungs. When one of the fallen small-folk had the back of its head trampled, blood burst out in all directions like a crushed tomato.
CRUNCH!
The chest of one of the small-folk caved in completely as it was stepped on over the solar plexus.
"Gurgle-!"
The snout spewing bloody foam was flattened by the next horse's hoof without even a second's reprieve.
CRRRIK!
The sound of their sharp teeth colliding with metal horseshoes took the place of screams. Though that, too, soon stopped as the teeth were shattered.
"Crazy..."
"Urgh."
The Mongoose Mercenary Company members, who had fallen behind for lack of horses, stopped their pursuit, sickened by the sight.
They had seen soldiers trampled by cavalry before, but the small-folk were far smaller than humans. As a result, dozens had been crushed together into a single mass of minced flesh.
* * *
The battle was over quickly.
They were small-folk with no armor and slow speed. In a situation where the three things that protected them—the underbrush, traps, and blowguns—had all been neutralized, they were nothing more than prey.
"Thank you for your help. I am Denver, the newly appointed commander of the Mongoose Mercenary Company."
"I am Eugene of the Meyer family."
Their introductions were cut off by the shrieking of two small-folk being dragged over, entangled in nets.
"Are these creatures worth money if captured alive?"
"No. They don't provide any useful alchemical materials, and the arenas prefer larger opponents like goblins or orcs."
Denver shook his head at Eugene's question.
"Then why were they captured alive?"
"Er, well."
"I intend to interrogate them."
It was Cassandra who answered in place of Denver, who was scratching his head.
"It doesn't seem like this one will give any useful information."
The small-folk captive snarled savagely as it gnawed at the net, looking utterly incapable of conversation. Torture only worked in the first place on beings one could interact with rationally.
"■■■■!"
The small monster before their eyes would likely spew only screams and resentment if inflicted with pain.
"That would be the case with ordinary interrogation."
At Cassandra's grin, she snapped her fingers, and a woman in a red robe approached.
This was the woman Cassandra had belatedly brought when interrogating the adventurer who had colluded with the slave trader. A strange magical energy emanated from within the robe wrapped around her body.
She bowed.
As before, a polite bow at the waist.
"Does it work on the small-folk as well?"
"Yes. Once they are subdued, it matters not whether it is human or monster. We shall extract useful information, including the location of any other groups of their kind."
Seeing Cassandra speak with such confidence, Eugene and Varda felt the interest of fellow mages. Just what kind of magic was she employing?
"Then we shall begin immediately. If there is a group nearby, we must strike before they notice."
"Understood."
As Cassandra gestured, other warrior women ran over.
"Dismount. Let's remove some of the horse barding."
"Ah, you're doing that? Got it."
As if understanding what was happening, the tribal warriors dismounted and removed the horse bardings, which were close to cloth nets, and handed them over.
The warrior women began weaving them together to make a small tent, and their skill was remarkably proficient. It looked like something they had done many times.
"What are they doing now?"
Eugene was puzzled at the sight of them erecting a tent first, rather than starting the interrogation right away.
Then, Cassandra placed her hand on the shoulder of the woman in the red robe.
"This is for this child's honor."
Cassandra's violet eyes took in the heavily armored troops under Eugene's command and the men of the Mongoose Mercenary Company.
The eyes that had been looking warmly at Eugene and the tribal men turned as cold as shards of ice in an instant.
"It is a rather... unique form of magic, you see."
As the warrior women threw the tightly bound small-folk captive into the finished tent, the mage in the red robe followed inside.
Rustle.
Flop.
Then, from within, the friction of clothing being removed and the small sound of garments dropping to the ground could be heard.
"Castle Lord. Please come in with me. As I promised you before, I will show you her magic."
Cassandra, who had pressed a hand to her chest and lowered her posture like a butler, pointed inside the tent.
"I have a feeling I shouldn't be going in."
"Hoho. The Castle Lord is perfectly fine. On the contrary, it would be her honor."
As Eugene showed a rare moment of bewilderment, Cassandra laughed as if it were delightful. Then, she carefully looped her arm through that of the utterly nonplussed Eugene and led him into the tent.
"Ahem."
Denver, the commander of the Mongoose Mercenary Company, had been standing by idly next to Eugene, unable to join the conversation. He shuffled his feet and tried to follow Eugene into the tent.
Denver, too, was deeply curious to see the magical interrogation being conducted on the small-folk captive.
Denver held considerable rank here. Though diminished in number, the Mongoose unit was still a mercenary company, so as a commander of equivalent standing he normally had the right to observe the interrogation.
"What the fuck are you supposed to be?"
"Do you want to die?"
However, the warrior women guarding the entrance to the tent growled like wildcats.
"I am the commander of the traditional Mongoose Mercenary Company..."
"So what? You lowly human."
"How dare you try to barge in here without knowing your place?"
The young ladies who had stood at attention quietly before the knight just moments ago now bared their fangs. Their faces were fierce, reminiscent of rakshas.