Through the Flames
"Damn it... Sir Karamap is going to flay us alive for this."
"Tch. Doesn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore. There's a fire — they'll come crawling out on their own. Watch your surroundings and hold the line."
"What if the fire spreads? I'd rather not burn to death in a place like this."
"They'll all be out before that happens. Hold your positions. Better than losing your head to Karamap, no?"
Thud!
"!"
A lone man burst out, the flickering blaze at his back. The mercenaries who had been grumbling snapped their spears forward with practiced speed, as if they'd been waiting for exactly this.
Clack!
"?!"
The thrust spear was caught. At first, the mercenary didn't even realize his weapon had been seized — he'd assumed, naturally, that it had run the man through. Only when the man gripped the shaft and came charging down its length did understanding dawn.
"Sh—"
The momentum of Johan's charge radiated a terror that squeezed the heart in a fist. One hand locked around the mercenary's spear; the other hoisted his longsword high like an executioner's. The mercenary didn't even have time to finish his curse.
Wmmm—
Swung one-handed, yet the blade sang far louder than any two-handed strike. The mercenary's head went flying.
Carving through the mercenaries like a lion among sheep, Johan realized that what Kaegal had told him was true. He was a lion. Even without Kaegal's teaching, he would have been a lion all the same.
"You insane bas— ghk!"
Johan snatched up the stolen spear and hurled it. He'd never once practiced throwing a spear, yet it shrieked through the air and punched through the chest of a mercenary charging toward him. He'd thrown it with such force that the shaft buried itself more than halfway through the man's torso, pinning him to the earth.
At that monstrous strength, the mercenaries hanging back faltered, unwilling to close the distance. Primal fear had seized them. Johan didn't bother trying to kill them too — all he needed was to break the encirclement. There was no reason to waste time.
And then the people of House Eitz came pouring out of the manor. Those who had huddled by the fire threw themselves into a desperate sprint with every ounce of strength they had left.
The mercenaries panicked at the sight. Because their numbers were stretched thin, two deaths had been all it took to open a gap in the line.
"Fire!"
"Damn it, these lunatics..."
The mercenaries fumbled frantically for their crossbows. But Johan was already gone into the darkness, and the Eitz household was racing down the hill. A crossbow bolt took down one more of them, but the rest slipped beyond reach.
"We're fucked...!"
"What happened here."
Karamap returned, having finished dispatching every servant in the annex. His squire Yein was fixing the mercenaries with a hard, cold stare.
"Well... one of them punched through the line, and the rest of them... followed him out."
"Two are dead. One man did this?"
"Yes. He came out of nowhere and attacked before we could..."
Karamap fell into thought. Even granting the element of surprise — could a single man truly kill two trained soldiers in an instant?
Yein spoke up beside him.
"One of the sons of House Eitz possessed remarkable strength. He never received training, but..."
"And why are you mentioning this only now?"
"My apologies. I thought it of no consequence."
Yein had believed this affair would end with the arrest of Sir Gesen alone. Besides, the boy was untrained. There had been nothing strange about keeping silent. Karamap understood this well enough that he didn't bother with a rebuke — he also had the face of House Lochtein to consider.
"Remarkable."
Surveying the scene, Karamap felt genuine admiration for Johan's physical gifts. Killing two mercenaries in a heartbeat and escaping on top of it. Even the manner of the killings was startling — one look at the wounds conveyed a brutal, almost incomprehensible strength.
Had Gesen raised the boy properly, he might have become a dangerous knight indeed.
But Gesen had been a fool, and the boy a green recruit. Karamap had killed knights far more dangerous and far more seasoned than this one, and more than a few of them.
Today, Gesen's son would die. Just as Gesen had.
Using the mercenaries to run him down is not the way to do this.
"Their armament?"
"The one who broke through was well armed. The rest fled with nothing."
"Then none of them will make it out of the fief — except one. I will pursue him myself. The rest of you, watch the manor."
"The fire is spreading, Sir Karamap."
"And?"
"...We will hold the perimeter in case the remaining ones attempt to slip out."
"When the main force arrives, seal the fief's roads and search every corner of it. Do it properly. I will not forgive a second failure. Yein Lochtein — I leave the command here to you."
"Yes, Sir Karamap!"
With those orders given, Karamap mounted his horse.
Set the fire.
The fire? If we set the fire, what about the others?
Did you not see the mercenaries just now? Anyone still down there is probably dead already. Even if some are hiding, there's nothing to be done. Call the remaining people and get them ready.
Fern and Yan felt chills crawl up their spines at Johan's words. They had been so paralyzed with fear at the sight of the mercenaries that it had never occurred to them what those men must have done down below.
Hold out inside until I break through, then follow me out. There's no other way.
Are you sure you should do that?
Better to take an arrow than burn alive, no?
Only then did reality truly land on Fern and Yan. Johan's effort to send the household's people out was not pure kindness. Mixed into it was the calculation of splitting up his pursuers.
And yet, even so, Johan was helping them right now. The two nodded, their faces gone stiff.
Right. We'll get out for certain and flee beyond the fief.
I wouldn't recommend it.
What?
Leaving the fief on foot, at night no less. Stay on the road and they'll run you down and kill you. Leave the road and the beasts will kill you instead.
This was a world where the wilderness dwarfed civilization many times over. Step outside a village and nearly everything was untamed frontier. People were ambushed by beasts even on the well-traveled roads; off the roads, it went without saying.
Understanding the truth of Johan's words, the two went pale.
Then...
If you make it out, hide in the church.
What?
I said hide in the church. Apart from Father Valberga, there's no one in this fief who'll help you.
A good man like Valberga would risk his own neck to shelter them. The rest of the fief's residents, absolutely not.
Hiding in the church is no guarantee you'll survive. You might die on the way there, or get spotted. But it's a far sight better than wandering out blind. There's a fire burning, and if the others scatter in every direction, you may just go unnoticed.
Fern realized what precious advice Johan had just given them. And then, suddenly, shame washed over him. When he had picked that fight with Johan — how petty, how small, must they have looked to him?
...Thank you.
Johan showed no reaction at all. He hadn't done any of it to earn gratitude in the first place. He had given the ones he held some grudging affection for all that could reasonably be given; what remained was theirs to do with as they would.
I'm going down now.
Wait. Johan.
What now?
Johan glanced back at the two of them, his patience visibly wearing thin.
There's a horse behind the watermill by the stream. You were planning to leave the fief, weren't you? Take it. It's a decent animal.
Hyung-nim, that horse is...
We can't ride it anyway. We'd die trying to fetch it. Better that he rides it.
From the look of things, the two had somehow procured the horse in secret. Facilities like the mill belonged to the lord, and the miller could hardly afford to offend the lord's sons — which made it the perfect hiding spot.
Thanks. It'll be put to good use.
...We should be the ones saying that.
With all that commotion erupting from the manor, and a fire on top of it, there was no way the village at the foot of the hill hadn't heard. The serfs poked their heads out with anxious faces, muttering among themselves.
Along the main road, torches flickered closer to the drumming of hooves, and the manor blazed against the night sky. Any other time, they would have run to put out the fire — instead, they hesitated. Something, clearly, had happened.
"Save us! The mercenaries...!"
The Eitz household, who had barely escaped with their lives, clutched at the serfs and pleaded their case or searched for the village headman. But the serfs screamed, retreated indoors, and barred their doors. The headman went one further and hid himself entirely.
He was the same man who groveled and fawned on any ordinary day, but a lifetime of reading the wind had told him exactly what kind of trouble was unfolding now. Karamap rode down into the village and cut down whoever came into his path.
"Hyiik!"
"It's — it's a knight!"
The villagers were already terrified out of their wits. When Karamap appeared on top of it, they didn't dare even lift their heads.
"Hear me, serfs! The house of Eitz dared to conspire with heretics in an attempt to assassinate His Majesty the Emperor. If any of you dares to shelter them, your entire families will be executed!"
"Th — there's one hiding in here, my lord!"
"No — don't!"
Karamap smashed through the door and swung his blade. The serf squeezed his eyes shut — and lived. Karamap stepped back outside and tossed the man a single silver coin. The serf's eyes went round as saucers.
"Those who aid in the hunt for House Eitz shall be justly rewarded. Come out and pursue the Eitz dogs — all of them!"
Fear and greed woke the villagers at once. Even the headman emerged from his hiding place and took up a torch. Those hiding somewhere in the fief, and even those trying to flee beyond its borders, were seized and dragged back.
The one called Johan is nowhere to be seen.
Karamap observed the situation with cold clarity. He was confident he could capture every one of the escaped Eitz household. The serfs would comb the fief inch by inch, and the mercenaries were already approaching from beyond.
But Johan was a different matter. He had armed himself, and his body was exceptional. Under cover of night, he could flee into the forest or the mountains. And that would become a headache.
"......"
"......"
The serfs hesitated. Unlike the rest of House Eitz, Johan had always treated them well. Karamap caught the drift at once and promptly took a serf's head. To burn away hesitation, fear was required.
With the blood, fear bloomed again.
"You. Do you wish to die as well?"
"He — he went that way!"
The serf pointed toward the watermill. Karamap wheeled his horse around at once.
Truly a fine horse.
Wherever it had come from, it was no packhorse or mule but a well-built warhorse with a proper frame. Johan led the animal out from behind the watermill and readied himself. From here on, he had to run at full gallop.
"Lord Johan?"
"Joseph?"
Johan was caught off guard by the unlikely figure. He knew Joseph, as the gamekeeper, lived in a shack set some distance from the village — but what was he doing here?
"I heard the commotion... and came running."
"Dressed like that?"
For someone who'd supposedly rushed out in a hurry, Joseph was far too well prepared.
"There's never any harm in being ready, is there, my lord."
"I suppose not."
Johan noticed that Joseph was lying, but didn't press the point. There was no time for it now.
"Lord Johan. What has happened to the fief?"
"We're under attack. I have to flee as well, so there's no time to explain."
"...Lord Johan. Go into the forest."
"?"
"I've laid traps along the forest paths you usually walk. Take a different route and run."
Johan understood. Joseph, too, had been planning to run if the worst should come to pass.
So when they came for him over that wolf hunt, he meant to slip away...
Otherwise there would have been no reason to set traps at a time like this.