Chapter 144: A Monster Among Hungry Wolves (1)
Chapter 144: A Monster Among Hungry Wolves (1)
With his household growing, Eugene was quick to move whenever he smelled money. This crusade by the Apostolic Council in particular offered much to be gained.
Not only the riches to be won from wealthy Sicily, but also the chance to build ties with various religious orders.
Now that he had snatched the Wandering Castle the emperor so desperately coveted, it was obvious they would clash someday—whether with spear and sword or through diplomatic rhetoric.
When that time came, it was better to have as many factions as possible willing to support Eugene.
And so the army, its preparations complete, marched out of the castle in imposing array.
"Daddy! Daddyyy!"
A baby, soon to mark her first birthday, called out desperately for her departing father while cradled in a young woman's arms.
In that single word she could utter, the conflicting meanings of "Don't go!" and "Come back safely!" were mingled.
It was not only the child's father who was stirred by those words. Eugene, the commander, also found himself resolving that he absolutely must bring them all back alive.
Stomp, stomp.
Having repeatedly absorbed new troops, Eugene's army was now of considerable size.
Moreover, everyone was at the very peak of quality in both experience and equipment. By this point, they had such an imposing presence that even lords who wielded some power locally would have to walk on eggshells around them.
That was something felt not only by Eugene but by his subordinates as well. The weight of it lent all the more strength to the marching steps of the army advancing in formation.
"Are you feeling proud?"
Varda smiled at the sight of Eugene deep in thought as he gazed at the army. For his growing power was a great joy to her as well.
They had grown so much. When they first left the Emerald Forest together, they had been a modest party of just three.
"Ah, I've come to realize something from long association with dwarves and dark elves."
"Hmm?"
It seemed Eugene had not been merely basking in satisfaction at his strengthening forces.
"It appears both races are in many ways superior to humans."
"What's that suddenly about?"
At the completely unexpected remark, Varda looked bewildered. The other close aides nearby reacted the same way.
"This was the case during Cassandra's rescue, and it was the same for those who had been isolated in the lord's manor basement this time. Though they all smelled terrible, once they washed and were examined, not one had a skin disease."
Receiving a large number of outsiders all at once as residents, they had thoroughly checked everyone's health. An epidemic breaking out inside the castle would be a disastrous nuisance.
"Had it been a unit composed of humans, there would have been a great uproar. Heat rash at minimum, skin chafing raw, and groins a wreck from moisture."
"I've heard that our ancestors often received compliments on their skin from the human nomads of the northeast."
Rex, who had been listening, nodded.
In the harsh life of nomadism, bathing is a luxury. The nomads, who inevitably reeked worse than beasts, had always envied the perpetually clean skin of the dark elves.
"They apparently believed that by receiving a share of our blood, they too would gain clean skin and scent. Countless times they proposed a merging of the tribes, but it was out of the question."
Led by Cassandra, her close circle of warrior women covered their mouths with expressions of "Ugh!" If they scorned even sedentary humans, then nomads went without saying.
"Isn't that a bit much, the dry heaving in front of a fellow human?"
"The Castle Lord is different, of course. Really, Varda-nim."
To Varda, whose face had stiffened, Cassandra replied with the utmost nonchalance.
At that, Eugene shrugged his shoulders and continued.
"On top of that, one can't ignore their long lifespan or enduring youth. And the sight that pierces the darkness, too."
In Eugene's army, the night watch was handled exclusively by warriors of the Black Hand Tribe. Their night vision was incomparable to a human's, and their hearing was so keen that their ability to keep watch was on another level entirely.
Eugene turned his head and looked at the marching Hammer Brotherhood.
"The dwarves have many remarkable qualities, too."
"Just let it go, please."
Rex, who had been listening with his arms folded in satisfaction, gestured as if to wrap it up at this point. But Eugene ignored him.
"Humans and elves are frequently bedridden, aren't they? From throwing out their backs or getting a stiff neck, things like that. But the Hammer Brotherhood had absolutely no absentees."
At one point, he'd even suspected, 'Are they forcing themselves to stand guard despite being in pain, worried I'll notice?' For unjust and cruel practices were inseparable from the mercenary company.
But whenever Eugene conducted an unannounced inspection of the dwarves, the result was always the same: no abnormalities. Every man in peak condition.
"Hahaha! Castle Lord, you need only trust us."
This time, it was Rampage's turn to feel pleased. He hefted his hammer and mimed bringing it down through the air.
"We are different from other races said to have been molded from clay by the gods, right down to our birth myth. The dwarves were forged by striking with God's hammer."
"He should have tapped you more gently. Looking so flattened, I wonder if He struck a little too hard."
Rex, mounted on his horse, sneered down at him, but Rampage let it go in one ear and out the other. He knew there was no malice in it, as they ate from the same pot every day.
Eugene, smiling warmly at the two who had grown quite friendly, nodded.
"Now I understand why dwarves are peerless in architecture and mining. It wasn't simply a matter of dexterity or their sensory hairs."
During the internal repairs and remodeling of the Wandering Castle, dwarves often met with accidents.
- Whoa, he's falling!
While inspecting the castle, Eugene had once seen a dwarf fall from a ladder.
- Oops!
With a thud, the dwarf crashed to the ground, rolled about three times, then dusted himself off and stood up. Eugene, who had been rushing over in alarm, gaped at the sight.
- ...Are you truly all right?
- Eh, at this level? If I made a fuss over this, I'd be unworthy of the name 'dwarf.'
They are a race born innately with a toughness like rock.
Their constitutions wouldn't flinch at accidents that would break several bones in a human. It was only natural that they were peerless as architects and smiths alike.
Skilled craftsmen never had to retire because of an accident, so they could continue building experience throughout their careers.
Considering how easily craftsmen of this era died or became crippled in their harsh working environments, it was a colossal advantage.
"In every way, the longer I live among them, the more I understand the pride of dwarves or elves. I've come to think their looking down on humans is somewhat justified."
"I doubt there's a single human noble who speaks the way you do, Castle Lord."
Cassandra said, twirling a lock of her hair.
"The fact that I'm human is separate from seeing things plainly."
Eugene turned to look back at the Wandering Castle, which was growing distant from where he sat on Might.
"Those who may enter Paradise are limited. And in future, your people will also bear children. There are already many tribesmen who've come in family units, and pregnant women are common."
"The day might come when that vast castle is filled to bursting."
At Cassandra's words, Eugene nodded.
"When my thoughts reached that far, I found myself troubled. Thinking of how it would be wisest to fill the empty places. And to what extent I should allow my fellow humans to fill them."
Even Rex and Rampage, whose faces had been brimming with pride the entire time, stiffened.
They all knew that Eugene always maintained a neutral perspective in every field. But they hadn't expected there to be no exception even when evaluating his own race.
The powerful of this era were expected to elevate and glorify the class they belonged to, wielding all manner of absurd justifications.
He was, after all, a knight wielding tremendous power and authority. It would not have been strange for him to possess an even stronger sense of superiority than a great noble, yet he always maintained that strangely cynical attitude.
This trait of Eugene's, every so often, kept his subordinates on edge.
Even though they saw him every day and lived side by side in the Wandering Castle, he sometimes seemed strangely unfamiliar—like a man standing alone in a distant mist.
* * *
The Apostolic Council's headquarters was located in the holy land of New Canaan. But it was far more often called by another name than by its official place name.
"It's my first time going to the Holy Land."
Every last soldier of the mercenary company wore an expectant expression. Living lives steeped in greed and blood, they hungered for a chance to cleanse their tainted souls.
No matter how much they lived as though there were no tomorrow, the people of this age could never outrun the terror visited upon them by thoughts of the afterlife.
"I've been to the holy land in the north, but this is my first time here."
Marbas, too, wore an expression of anticipation. Just as there were many faiths, so the holy lands were not one either.
There was one in the north and another across the sea in the east. New Canaan on the Apen Peninsula simply ranked first in renown and perceived importance.
At some point, the road widened dramatically and the number of people traveling along it surged sharply. Given the circumstances, armed mercenaries were visible everywhere, as common as pilgrims or merchant caravans.
The annual pirate invasions, the war between the Apostolic Council and Sicily, and on top of it all, the Roman civil war.
Conditions were ideal for sellswords to make money. They were warriors who stood a cut above the mercenaries of Bonyard in several respects.
"Hey there, sweetheart. Can you spare a word of encouragement for some brothers headed off to earn coin?"
A mercenary flirted with the prostitutes riding in a mule-drawn cart. It was a scene as common on the march as the chirping of the morning birds.
"The new blood here is way too frozen up. Blow a little fire into him."
The veteran mercenaries forcibly dragged the tense young man to the side of the cart. He had a boyish, freckled face.
"Good heavens! A babe like this is headed off to the battlefield already? Has the boy even had a wet dream?"
"Oh, you exaggerate. Where I'm from, one this age is already a father, a father I tell you!"
The youth caught between them was utterly flustered.
"U-uh, um, well..."
"Aww, how cute."
The heavily made-up prostitute winked, grabbed the top of her dress, and flashed him. Mercenaries all around erupted in cheers.
"Vulgar lot."
There were also noble lords who frowned at such a sight. Naturally, however, they led armies.
Faith, the prospect of plunder, a piece of land that might fall to them if they proved their worth, fury at Sicily for colluding with the pirates who had long tormented their domains, a desire to smash the pirate connections once and for all so they could suffer fewer raids afterward.
The reasons for the nobles of the Apen Peninsula to join the war were more than ample.
The Apostolic Council welcomed them all, but it was only natural for a peculiar tension to run among those gathering there.
Not for those whose purpose was simply to grab some plunder, but for those aiming for something beyond that.
To those who desired domains or noble titles, everyone around them was a competitor.
"I hear the Apostolic Council is really gearing up for this."
"They say they're going to hit Sicily hard this time. To make an example of nobles who consort with pirates."
"In the last crusade, four lords were made. This one's big. There'll be at least ten seats up for grabs."
"And if the Sicily lot are the opponent..."
Sicily, by its nature as an island, had always remained a step removed from the wars that swept the continent.
It was wealthy, with plenty of spoils to plunder, but its lords were fat. Its knights lacked real combat experience, and its soldiers' stomachs were soft.
For those looking to minimize risk while chasing a fortune, this crusade was a heaven-sent opportunity.
They calculated the odds for the limited positions and eagerly sized one another up to see who held the advantage.
When such currents flowed, it was inevitable that, even before the invasion began, some would try to appeal their competence to the orders.
"A battle has broken out a little way from here."
"Have the mercenary bands come to blows?"
Eugene was puzzled by the scout's report.
When beasts of overflowing bloodlust and ambition moved in the same direction, it was no surprise they would clash.
"No. Pirates who failed to escape in time have seized a nearby wooden fort and are holding out."
As had been revealed this time, the pirates attacking the peninsula held connections to the island of Sicily.
Rather than striking recklessly, they had gauged the peninsula's shifting circumstances and waited for the moment when there was the most to devour.
In doing so, they had assigned territories — "you here, me there" — so their paths would not cross, and had struck from all sides at once.
But then, misled into believing that the disaster the Forest Spirit had unleashed was a "terrible plague," the pirates had all withdrawn simultaneously.
"So only the ones who'd eagerly driven inland to plunder were isolated in a single moment?"
"Aren't those idiots?"
At Eugene's words, his subordinates laughed as if in disbelief.
The mercenary bands heading for New Canaan had seen this as a windfall and massed together to attack. Pirates made excellent gifts to present to the Apostolic Council.
"That's the one."
As they followed the highway, a wooden fort came into view, surrounded and under assault.
Though built of wood and not especially strong, a fort was a fort. Moreover, the pirates knew that if they lost here, only the gallows awaited, so they resisted desperately.
"Sir Eugene?!"
At that moment, a friar who had been blessing passersby on the highway came hurrying over.
"Are you by chance Sir Eugene, the Monster Slayer of Bonyard?"
"I am. But how did you...?"
"I heard about you from Father Gardener. That you rescued him when he was surrounded and under attack by pirates. And that you brought peace to the villagers who had met with calamity."
The friar looked at the horse Eugene rode with an air of wonder.
"He is just as tremendous a warhorse as I was told. I thought the tale of him ramming a pirate and sending him soaring sky-high was mere boasting, but so it proves!"
"Riding about on you, it seems I'll need no separate proof of identity."
As Eugene stroked his neck, Might let out a low rumble.
"You too have come to join the sacred war, I take it?"
"I have."
"Please, do not speak so formally to me."
The priest waved his hand as if deeply honored.
"This too is God's guidance. If it pleases you, I shall escort you to the holy ground myself."
This entire region fell within the Apostolic Council's powerful sphere of influence. Some cities and villages were even directly governed by it.
Being escorted by a priest was far more convenient than going alone, whether for securing supplies or finding good lodgings.
"I shall gladly accept your kindness."
The moment Eugene gave a nod, a cheer erupted from the wooden fort that had been under siege.
"At last, it has fallen... Ah..."
The priest's face, which had turned as if pleased by this double blessing, stiffened rigidly.
The mercenaries who had been attacking the wooden gate were falling back in defeat. The cheer had come from the pirates, who were brandishing their weapons as they looked down upon them.
Only the destroyed, hastily-made battering ram and the corpses of the mercenaries lay abandoned.
"Worry not. We shall step forward."
Eugene smiled lightly at the priest's face, which was staring at him as earnestly as an abandoned puppy.
"Shall we use ladders? Or a battering ram?"
Rampage asked as if he had been waiting.
The Hammer Brotherhood, by the nature of the weapons they wielded, were not only skilled in battle. They could knock together the equipment to take a wooden fort like this one on the spot.
But Eugene gave no answer.
"Castle Lord? Your eyes..."
Only then did Rampage realize that Eugene's eyes and Might's were blazing like violet candles.
"No, there will be no need for that."
Having pierced the long distance to see the fort's gate, Eugene shook his head.
It was not a stout gate like the one at Codon Castle. It was a door made of thick planks and logs layered together.
"Because I already have a siege engine capable of smashing a gate like that."
"Pardon? What do you..."
"Might? Shall we show them?"
At Eugene's low whisper, Might raised his front hooves high.
So vast was his bulk that for an instant, the nearby subordinates felt the overwhelming pressure of a mountain rearing up before them.
The two front hooves came down hard upon the earth, and the dwarves' beards trembled faintly. They had felt the tremendous power contained in the shockwave with utter clarity.
A walking, miniature battering ram had been right beside them, and they had not recognized it!
* * *
"Damn it! What are you lot doing? You can't even take down one shoddy little fort?"
"Well, Captain, when have any of us ever had to build a battering ram before?"
The subordinates stared at their irate mercenary captain as if bewildered.
Because it had been cobbled together by mercenaries with no knack for handiwork, the ram's striking force was poor for the effort put into it. Its durability was just as wretched; the wheel axle had snapped while they were pounding away, forcing them to make hasty repairs.
"Captain! Another army is advancing!"
At the messenger's report, the mercenary captains' brows twisted darkly.
"Medison! What are you doing, not stopping them properly?"
Many people were trying to curry favor with the Apostolic Council. Naturally, more and more of them were forcing their way into this fight.
In any case, the number of men who could actually take part in storming the fort was already sufficient. They had to block any latecomers seeking to share in the glory.
Medison was the captain of the mercenary band chosen for that role and stationed at the chokepoint. But Medison felt wronged.
"Take a look at the army coming up now before you run your mouth."
"Whoever they are, if they're coming up here, it's bound to be the same sort, so what..."
Pushing aside his subordinates and emerging where the view was clear, the mercenary captain rubbed his eyes as if he could not believe what he saw.
A legion was advancing: dwarf warriors bearing heavy hammers, heavy cavalry, and an entire company of horse archers with bows slung over their backs.
Each and every one was an elite soldier, and their numbers alone seemed to surpass 500 by a fair measure. At their head, knights exuding a ferocious presence were approaching.
"Has Count Bordeaux come here too?"
"That old man collapsed with a grave illness, shouldn't his succession be in full turmoil by now?"
"His relations with the orders are terribly bad, besides. There's no way they would have called him here."
The mercenary captains thought of the most powerful lord in the region, but no matter how they looked at it, it was not him.
"Just where did they appear from?"
Even for men who had long roamed the Apen Peninsula, these were flags they had never seen, and a host they had never seen.
The commander of the army that had suddenly appeared was a strikingly young knight.
He fixed his gaze on the battering ram blocking the path to the gate. Several mercenaries were clinging to it, laboring to repair it with their clumsy hands.
"Clear it away."
At once, the dwarf warriors stepped forward and hauled the battering ram aside with their powerful grips.
"Now, see here! What do you..."
One of the mercenary captains, who had reflexively moved to protest, shut his mouth.
Thunder-thunder-thunder!
For the gigantic warhorse had charged ahead with terrifying momentum.
"Wh-What is that?"
"A monster!"
So great was its speed that even the pirates atop the wooden fort could not react in time.
Might, having reached the front of the fort in an instant, drove his hind legs into the earth with all his strength and kicked off.
A plume of dirt erupted as if in an explosion, and his two front hooves, like pillars of steel, struck the gate with full force.
BOOM!
With a thunderous crash, the shattered wooden gate was hurled inward.
Two luckless pirates who happened to be in its path were struck and sent skittering away like skipped stones before crashing into the wall.
"Gurgle..."
Seeing the corpses of their comrades spewing pink foam, the pirates went rigid.
Even seasoned veteran pirates forgot to give the order to shoot arrows or to block.
"Waaaaaah!"
A thunderous war cry rang out as the Hammer Brotherhood charged through the gaping entrance.
The other mercenary bands, which had been straining away at the siege, could only stand and stare blankly, unable either to join in or block the way.
End
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