War of Rage (6)
War of Rage (6)
The Dullahan had wandered in search of a new head for so long that it had completely forgotten its time as a human.
As a being closer to a spirit, it drifted along the boundary between the mortal world and the Otherworld, so it was rarely witnessed by people.
And yet the mass duel waged by the knights of the south and central regions had presented the perfect conditions to summon the Dullahan.
On an ordinary battlefield, there was the pain and fear exuded by masses of common soldiers. In the arena, the turbid energy spewed forth by weak spectators.
A space where the finest knights clashed with pure fighting spirit, one after another, free of all such things — such a place was exceedingly rare.
[■■■!]
And in the place it had finally reached, it found what it sought at last: the head of a warrior—a beautiful woman whose fighting spirit and courage welled up without end.
The ghost steed, which had been drawing near step by step, began to run.
"God has guided me to this dueling ground for a reason!"
Knights were quick to recover their fighting spirit. Kray was ready and willing to fight. Before a true and worthy foe, secular rivalries were meaningless.
Homi, on the other hand, swiftly withdrew from the spot. The weapons she carried now were ill-suited to fighting such a surreal entity.
-Against an unknown enemy, always begin with ranged harassment.
It was the attitude Eugene constantly impressed upon Homi.
The Dullahan ignored Kray, who was poised to fight alone, and pursued Homi instead.
CRASH!
And then Might, who had returned charging alone, slammed into it and sent it flying.
So violent was the collision that the Dullahan and the ghost steed were separated and went tumbling head over heels.
"Good heavens."
"Which one is the monster?"
The onlookers witnessed the legend of horse-and-rider unity being shattered for the very first time.
"Fweee-!"
"Grrr-."
The loyal squire and the warhorse answered one another, each in their own voice.
'That Homi. Did she angle her retreat from the start so the Dullahan's gaze would be drawn away from Might?'
Eugene, who had retrieved Blackout, climbed atop the returned Might.
"You really do care for Homi quite a bit, don't you?"
Was it because of the memories from when they had first been together? Or was it the mystery of beast domination?
Aside from his master Eugene, Homi was the only one Might actively looked after.
Perhaps because its flank had been struck square without warning, the Dullahan still could not rise.
"Rex. Did you bring any silver arrows?"
"No. We were too tight on supplies to bring things like that."
This was different from when they had roved through Roman and Samur with the feel of a mercenary company and an adventuring company.
They were waging a war of warlord against warlord, so there had been no room to pack things like silver arrows.
"Go! Tell them to scrape up every last one they have!"
"Leave it to me, Sub-Chieftain!"
Rex dispatched a messenger at once. It would take a day at least for the rear units to fetch silver arrows, but that was better than doing nothing.
The ghost steed rose without a sound — perhaps it was hardier than its master.
The Dullahan, splayed out like a star, was slowly getting to its feet, twitching its toes and heaving its shoulders.
"Varda-nim. If we run for it, will that one give up here?"
"It will most likely follow. It is not some monster that happened upon us — it came here by its own will."
"We'll have to deal with it now, then."
It was better to fight it in broad daylight and open ground. If it attacked the camp or a town at night, it would be several times more troublesome.
"Strike down the vile demon beast!"
Knights from both south and central charged over regardless of faction. Still, as they were at war, they did not intermingle but divided into two separate masses.
At last, the fully risen Dullahan vaulted cleanly atop the ghost steed. In its hand it held a long glaive that gave off a sinister, pernicious aura.
Close to a spirit though it might be, it was true to its nature as a being born from human death.
* * *
"Charge forward!"
"We will slay this wretch!"
The first to charge were the central knights who were closer to the Dullahan. As men who had come to the dueling grounds thirsting for glory, they sought to claim this opportunity for themselves alone.
The glaive crashed against the shield of the one at the very front.
"Khk!"
The knight had caught the blow skillfully on the iron-rimmed portion of his shield, but he could do nothing about the sheer force of the impact.
Crack.
Before he could recover his shattered stance, the butt of the shaft struck him in the flank and sent him flying. The sound of ribs breaking was chilling.
Yet the knights charging in behind did not so much as blink.
-It is only natural that some fall on the road to glory!
What made a knight was not flinching at arrows and bolts, nor even at the great clubs swung by mid-sized monsters — even if the one falling should happen to be himself.
The problem was that the central knights were infantry, while their opponent was mounted.
[■■.]
The ghost steed worked its hooves and slipped out to the knights' flank in an instant.
"It's flanking!"
"Maintain the encirclement!"
The knights wheeled their ranks in unison without panic, but the ghost steed's mobility was far too great. It was a spirit beast, unbound by the limits of joints.
The moment it landed, the Dullahan unleashed a horizontal slash that fell upon two knights on the flank.
The shield struck first was split in two, and the knight whose arm was cut screamed. The other one staggered as well, his shield deeply gashed.
"Close in!"
As knights rushed in from behind, the broad blade of the glaive was driven into the earth.
"What are you..."
The knights' question was answered by the clods of dirt that burst forward as if exploding, showering them.
"You filthy beast with no sense of honor!"
"M-my eyes, the dirt..."
The knights who had been struck in the eyes by the unthinkable attack were thrown into confusion, and through that gap the ghost steed charged.
The knights desperately forced their stinging eyes open and raised their shields, but there was no chance of a proper defense.
"Aaaagh!"
Knights slashed by the blade and struck by the shaft and the ghost steed collapsed bleeding on all sides. Yet not a single death resulted.
It was because they bore the characteristic thick frames of central knights, wore heavy plate armor, and carried sturdy shields. And because they were in a dense formation, the Dullahan could not bring its full might to bear either.
Amid the chaos, the knights' axes and swords landed multiple blows, but the Dullahan did not so much as flinch and returned ferocious counters.
'So brute force alone really isn't enough?'
Existing somewhere between undead and spirit, it knew no fatigue, and its durability was monstrous.
In numbers it was many against one, but if the total stamina and resilience of both sides were quantified, the Dullahan's would be the higher.
"N-no!"
At last, not a single one remained standing properly. At the very moment the glaive was falling upon the neck of a nearby knight.
Whoooosh!
The Dullahan reacted to the javelin streaking in with a tremendous whoosh.
Crack!
It swung its glaive with equal ferocity, and the javelin was smashed to pieces in midair, scattering wooden fragments.
[■■■!]
The Dullahan leveled its glaive at Eugene and snarled.
It seemed it had been on guard ever since being struck squarely by Might that first time.
"No — is it something else?"
Eugene could hear what the other knights could not.
[■■■. ■■■■.]
He perceived that the Dullahan was issuing a challenge to him. Though he could not understand the words, the will within them was etched upon Eugene's soul.
The Dullahan grasped the middle of its glaive and whirled it through the air before leveling it at Eugene once more. Its meaning was clear.
Eugene glanced back. Several lords had joined during the march, so it would not hurt to display his authority once more here.
'Is this arrogance on my part?'
Even having just watched a whole company of central knights get smashed to pieces before his eyes, he felt not the slightest fear. Eugene felt his blood begin to boil.
* * *
KRAAANG!
In midair, the colossal axe and the long glaive collided.
The warriors here had roamed many a battlefield and heard many a thunderous roar, but never a sound so loud as this.
Crackle!
When blade met blade once more, blue sparks flew. It was not the oxidation reaction of metal particles.
It was a spark born of the spiritual energy that wreathed both weapons. In a sense, it could be called the smallest conceivable unit of magic.
"All of you, fall back! If you interfere, you'll be caught up in it!"
Eugene had worried that the southern knights, blinded by glory, might recklessly charge in, but no such thing occurred.
"This is not some monster extermination."
"It is a duel. A duel of knights."
All of them watched, as if entranced, as the two riders contested their martial skill.
Both Eugene and the Dullahan let go of their reins and swung their long polearms at one another.
CLANG!
These were not single-handed swords, and so even when the distance between them widened to three or four meters at a time, the clash did not cease.
KRAAANG!
Crackle-crack!
A majestic duel the likes of which could not be witnessed on any battlefield was unfolding.
But anyone could see that Eugene was overwhelming his opponent. Every time their weapons clashed, the Dullahan was driven back, pressed onto the defensive.
Above all, unlike the Dullahan, who swung its glaive with both hands, Eugene held Blackout in a single hand.
'There's no telling what sudden, wicked secret art it might use. I absolutely must keep my shield in hand.'
It was Eugene's iron rule when fighting an unpredictable enemy.
The riders were not the only ones fighting. The mounts, too, carried on their own battle for the sake of their masters.
Grrraaah! In Might's gaping maw were arrayed ferocious teeth that even a crocodile would flee from.
Chomp!
The ghost steed barely evaded having its throat torn out.
Because of that, the Dullahan was forced into a disadvantageous posture, and in that gap, the enormous axe blade that flew in knocked the glaive from its grasp.
At once, a fervent cheer erupted from the onlookers.
"All-Conquering Knight! All-Conquering Knight!"
Be it knight, monster, or legendary demon beast — in a duel, no matter the foe, he was undefeated.
From the lowliest foot soldiers to the knights, all of them roared in acclaim at the strength of the lord they served.
[■■!]
The Dullahan stretched out its hand and intoned a spell. The glaive that had fallen to the ground dissolved into smoke and vanished, then rematerialized within its grip.
From then on, instead of a stationary contest, a battle of maneuver unfolded. The two rode in dizzying arcs across a radius of dozens of meters, trading offense and defense.
The ghost steed's strength lay in movement that overcame the constraints of joints and skeleton, supplemented with magical speed.
Grrrrrr-.
Might, on the other hand, overwhelmed through sheer monstrous physicality and mass.
Though it was outmatched in turning ability, it was dominant in speed and power. With even the rider's destructive force tipping in Eugene's favor, Might charged in like a great white shark.
Crack!
[■■?!]
As cracks began to spread across the glaive's blade, the Dullahan hid itself behind a tree to regain control of the situation.
Eugene could feel her consternation in the wavelengths of magical power emanating from that black neck.
The Dullahan's way was to turn the hunt around upon the knights who came to destroy it. This was the first time it had experienced being outmatched in both rider and mount. One might say the positions of knight and monster had been reversed.
"You were the one who first demanded this contest. Do not flee."
The axe blade of Blackout hewed into the tree.
Rrrrrumble.
A tree two to three times the girth of a grown man's torso was crushed and toppled in a single blow, and the ghost steed darted out of the way just in time.
But Might was already coiling his body. Tremendous power exploded from his hind legs, launching him in that direction like a ballista bolt.
The Dullahan took cover behind a wagon that had been set up as a boundary marker at the edge of the dueling ground.
CRASH!
As Might rammed into it, the wagon flew through the air like a wild dog struck by a bull. The shattered axle and wheels scattered pitifully, and through the chaos the Dullahan thrust her glaive.
Eugene knocked it aside with his shield and brought Blackout down in a brutal vertical chop.
The Dullahan's right shoulder was smashed, and a piercing shriek erupted from her.
"Aaaagh."
The onlookers felt goosebumps ripple over their entire bodies. It was like a banshee's wail — nothing that could be endured with mere courage alone.
It had no effect on Eugene whatsoever, so he continued to hammer down with Blackout.
CRACK!
The glaive could not withstand it, and its blade shattered.
"I can't tell anymore who is the knight and who is the monster."
Someone murmured involuntarily as the Dullahan fled again.
CRASH!
The axe blade missed the Dullahan by a hair and smashed a boulder to pieces.
Whoosh!
Eugene hurled a javelin he had deliberately not used up to that point, launching it as a surprise attack.
The Dullahan, accustomed only to close-quarters combat, was caught off guard as the javelin pierced her abdomen, and she was forced to face the axe blade she could not possibly evade.
[■■■!]
The Dullahan abandoned her glaive and caught the axe blade with both hands and both arms of her black-iron gauntlets.
Her left hand and left arm were crushed to pulp in an instant, and only three fingers remained on her right hand.
A scream that seemed to tear the air apart burst forth. The warriors heard within it a woman's sobbing.
Though grievously wounded, the Dullahan barely halted the axe blade. Black energy gushed violently from between the shattered plates of her armor.
It froze the blade of Blackout and fiercely dug into Eugene's body. In a flash, frost formed on his eyebrows and hair.
At this, the Hell Spirit dwelling within Blackout surged forth with power, as if mocking it.
Sizzle.
The dark axe blade glowed red-hot and instantly vaporized the frost.
Likewise, the blood flowing through Eugene's veins radiated hellish heat and expelled the cold.
The hellfire that had once gnawed at Marbas's soul and flesh finished its work and quietly returned to Eugene's blood, as if it were the finest cradle of all.
"It is time for your rest. Though it may not be in the manner you wished."[...]
Eugene's left hand seized the severed neck where black vapor rose from the cross-section.
Crunch.
The Dullahan resisted with her three-fingered hand, but that too was caught in Eugene's right hand and crushed.
Uuuh-.
Grrrr-.
Seeing its master on the verge of obliteration, the ghost steed grew desperate. But escape was impossible. It, too, was held fast with its neck in Might's jaws.
Rrip!
Eugene's left hand tore through the Dullahan's throat membrane and dug inside. He seized and ripped out the condensed, intense mystery within.
CRRUNCH!
Something shaped like a vertebra was yanked out, and the Dullahan went limp. The instant her master faded from existence, the ghost steed grew faint and was banished from the world.
* * *
What greeted Eugene upon his return was the Southern Army, kneeling before their liege with faces full of awe.
"Damn. We were utterly defeated. No knight could ever fight the way Your Excellency the Count does."
And then the central knights, led by Kray, offered him a bow of their heads. None of them were unscathed, so most remained seated.
"I thank you. But your wounds look severe."
"We owe Your Excellency our lives."
The moment the staring contest between Eugene and the Dullahan had begun, Haind had moved quickly with the soldiers. He had evacuated the injured central knights out of the combat zone.
"I will have you treated."
"B-but..."
"You need not feel burdened. It is out of respect for knights who fought so courageously."
Eugene scanned the central knights' faces, read the unease there, and added:
"Naturally, this does not mean you are being taken captive. Once your wounds heal, I will release you without ransom. I swear it on my honor. In return, I have my own vassals to convince, so you must entrust your weapons to me. You may keep your armor as it is."
"!!!"
With their misgivings addressed, there was no reason to refuse.
Among the wounded were those bleeding heavily or with broken bones protruding through their flesh. Without immediate treatment, their lives would be in danger or they would suffer lifelong disability.
"Sir Kray. Even so, what guarantee is there that he will keep his promise?"
"You are saying we should remain unarmed in the enemy camp."
A few knights appeared worried that Eugene might take them prisoner later after all.
'Even I would find it hard to trust easily. Especially since thousands of troops from the rear will be joining soon.'
Eugene thought to himself that he understood, but the other central knights seemed to feel otherwise.
SMACK!
Kray's palm slapped the cheek of the knight who had voiced his suspicion.
"Know your shame! You witnessed that great battle just now, and you still insult its honor?"
"Sir Kray is right. If you were in sound condition, I would have challenged you to a duel then and there!"
Without any need for Eugene's own vassals to step forward, the majority of the central knights rebuked him sternly.
If a merchant's credit was backed by the reserve funds piled in his warehouse, then a knight's was backed by the feats of arms he had accumulated.
The desperate battle Eugene had just displayed was, to the knights, as absolute as a fortune in gold.
"I-I am sorry. I was foolish."
In the end, the matter was settled when the knights in question admitted their fault.
"Who are you apologizing to? Apologize to the right person."
"Please accept my apology, Your Excellency the Count."
"...It is fine. That is enough."
They broke out in such a cold sweat that Eugene felt rather embarrassed.
* * *
- While you are in our camp, do not go picking unnecessary fights.
- We are not such fools. You are the ones His Excellency has personally welcomed as guests.
The southern nobles readily accepted that the central knights were staying in the camp as guests.
Partly because the central knights had conducted themselves more gentlemanly than expected during the duels, and a small sense of solidarity had formed as they all praised the great victory together.
"A pity these aren't living monsters like trolls or hydras."
Eugene clicked his tongue. When you felled spiritual beings like guardians, death knights, or Dullahans, the spoils left behind were scant.
Eugene shook the vertebra-like object in his grip this way and that.
"Eek!"
At the sight, the war witches screamed and came running.
"L-Lord of the Castle! Would you please entrust that treasure to us?"
"We fear the mystery within may be damaged. We must preserve it safely at once!"
If one had to name the happiest people since coming under Eugene's command, it would be the witches.
When else would they ever have access to such a precious catalyst? It was something they could never have dreamed of during their wandering days. It was a treasure that would make even Chief Alessa's ears flap and send her running barefoot.
Elsewhere, field cots were being set up and the central knights were receiving treatment all around.
"I've no need for poppy juice."
"Sir Knight, this is no cheap swill. It's an arcane blended sap with no addictive properties."
"!!!"
Thanks to the combination of the medical knowledge developed by the Black Hand tribe and the Wandering Castle's cultivation chambers, they were amply supplied with costly medicine.
Eugene's field hospital proved itself to be the finest place of healing in this age. There was nothing but calm as bones were set, and torn flesh was disinfected and sutured.
"There is something unburdened about his expression."
Eugene gazed at Kray, who was looking after the central knights. It was more than accepting defeat and feeling grateful for kindness. A sense of relief could be glimpsed on his face.
"Kray is a knight famed for his honor. He may have wished to be bound to your army."
Varda examined Eugene's body, which had been exposed to the cold, here and there.
"That seems like a stretch. No matter what, I'm still the enemy of his father and liege lord."
"Your vassals say he was the one who most fiercely opposed the Kruger lord's declaration of kingship. He even nearly had his knighthood stripped for trying to forcibly block the order to execute nobles."
Loyalty to one's liege. The defense of the weak and of justice.
When those two values clashed, most knights prioritized the former. And when blood ties were added to the mix, it went without saying.
But Kray seemed to be one of the rare exceptions. Homi, too, wagged her tail as if agreeing with Varda's opinion.
Having become a complete warrior, she could read the depths of an opponent's heart through the blades she crossed.
When Kray had first arrived at the dueling ground, he had been torn this way and that, but the two battles had swept his troubles clean away.
- They say Sir Kray and all his knights were defeated and taken prisoner.
- That is preposterous! They are among the swiftest and staunchest warriors!
The false rumor spread in all directions. The event had been so bizarre that it was easy enough for those who did not know the full story to misunderstand.
- We've lost contact with Baron Lambda, who went to secure supplies.
- D-don't tell me he, too...?
- How could that be? The baron headed north, I tell you! He must have seen no chance of victory, abandoned His Majesty, and bolted!
In order to secure provisions and boost morale, the nobles had scattered and were pillaging the east. Among them, defectors had begun to emerge.
The enemy's momentum grew greater by the day, yet overrunning the east was dragging on and on. Every time they heard news of Eugene slowly tightening the noose, they felt like rats being driven into a trap.
There was, however, one piece of good news.
- We have come! Ruler of Britannia!
King Kruger had somehow calmed the Viking allies, who had been wholly preoccupied with plundering, and merged them into his army.
It had been no easy task, requiring the king's full concentration, but they were a force well worth the effort.
* * *
Aside from the spine, the Dullahan had left one other thing behind. The armor she had been wearing.
"Is it all right to wear this? It's not cursed or anything that drains life, is it?"
Unlike Eugene, who regarded it with suspicion, Homi's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
For while the armor showed no reaction to anyone else, it caused a change under Homi's fingers. A dark ripple stirred across its hard, solid surface, and its form shifted.
The living armor was rejoicing at Homi's touch.
"I know of no records about defeating a Dullahan. If only Duke Marbas were here at a time like this."
Varda, too, trailed off as if troubled.
"Since it was after Homi, could the armor recognize something like a master in her as well?"
"Perhaps so. If the criteria for being chosen by a Dullahan are not just strength but something like compatibility."
In any case, no wicked aura could be felt from the armor.
Eugene imagined how Homi would look clad in that black armor. She would be the very image of a perfect knight, both in skill and in appearance.
It was a special relationship: Eugene did not want to see Homi graduate from being his squire, and Homi had no desire to graduate either.
End
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