Chapter 203 - Amidst the Summer God's Prank
After putting on the clothes of the people who had been entering the city gate, Enkrid immediately started walking outside.
"Hey, where are you going!" shouted a soldier who was helping guide the residents on the wall.
Enkrid lifted the old, wide-brimmed hat that covered his head. His eyes were revealed, and he met the gaze of the soldier who had called out to him. Clear blue eyes, and below them, a nose and lips. It wasn't difficult to recognize who he was.
"For a walk."
"Commander Enkrid?"
Recently, few people in the city didn't know Enkrid's face.
"Shh."
Enkrid placed a finger to his lips, signaling for him to be quiet, and then went outside. He had left Krais behind. That bastard was useless in a frontal battle. Moving against the flow of the incoming residents, they were bound to stand out a little. It felt like being a fish swimming upstream. He didn't care. What did it matter if his allies saw? The important thing was that the enemy didn't. It was still a time before they would enter the enemy's reconnaissance range. In other words, it was a perfect time to go out and hide.
"Let's go."
Enkrid spoke and started running.
"An ambush?" Finn asked, having come up beside him.
"Yeah."
Finn didn't say anything more. She didn't question what was the point of an ambush with less than ten people. She knew, too. She had learned a lot from her time with Audin. The Madmen Company was full of monsters. That included Enkrid.
As Marcus stood on the gallery atop the city wall, stroking his beard, his adjutant, who had been with him since the capital, asked, "Will it be alright?"
He didn't doubt Enkrid's martial prowess. He trusted him. However, separate from trust, it was also true that it looked precarious. Outwardly, it looked that way, separate from trust. Hadn't they prepared a backup plan for that reason?
"I don't know, either."
"Then why are you smiling?"
The adjutant could not read any worry or concern on Marcus's face. He found it nothing short of amazing. It was the first time he had known Marcus to be someone who spoke with such passion, and the first time he had known him to be someone who could smile like that.
'No, I think I've seen it a few times.'
When he found a tea leaf he liked and jumped into a tea leaf auction and won it, he would show such a smile. It was a smile that appeared when one had found something truly precious and all that was left was to enjoy it.
"I don't know for sure, but it will be interesting."
He was not a man who saw the battlefield as fun. Yet for him to say this meant there was a reason. The adjutant knew that the expectations Marcus had for the company commander named Enkrid were not ordinary. It even looked as if he were not just expecting, but simply enjoying it.
"The troops without emblems are probably Viscount Ventra's forces. Count Molsen might have sent them as well," the adjutant said.
Molsen was a man with the nickname of a talent collector. He had many skilled individuals under his command. Marcus had expected as much. The reason they covered their emblems was likely because they couldn't openly help. That bastard Count Molsen also wanted to cut off and eat the piece of meat that was the Border Guard. It meant it was a headache, and that a large hyena had also joined the fray. On top of that, Molsen was a sinister bastard who you couldn't predict.
Marcus didn't dwell on matters beyond his reach. He couldn't ask the capital for help anyway, and if this was a gamble, it was only natural to bet everything on the only card he trusted. If he didn't even think of it as a gamble, then there was nothing more to be said.
"But why isn't the independent company commander coming up?" Marcus asked.
At the time when all the commanders were to gather on the gallery, only Enkrid was absent.
"There."
As soon as Marcus asked, the sharp-eyed elf company commander pointed and spoke. Below the city wall, the residents who worked in agriculture and other supplementary jobs outside were coming in. And there were those who were moving against that flow. No matter how much they hid their appearance, it was difficult to hide Audin's build. Of course, the elf company commander had recognized Enkrid.
"They're going out."
He hadn't given any orders yet. Marcus had only given him the authority.
"...Hah."
Marcus let out a small exclamation of admiration. It was because he could roughly guess what he was trying to do. And if that worked, the enemy would have a very complicated headache from the very start. He couldn't help but smile.
The commander of Martai was named Olf. He wanted to be called General, and he was a capable man. Not only his personal martial prowess, but he had also built up achievements as a commander. All his adjutants also called him General. The mayor of the Border Guard had the title of Battalion Commander, and the mayor of Martai had the title of General. Well, calling themselves whatever they wanted was their own business.
"General, we are ready."
"The mangonels?"
"There are eight in total. There are no, no problems."
A mangonel was a catapult that launched stones with the help of six strong men. It was mobile and had the advantage of not requiring setup. Its power was weaker than a trebuchet, but it was more convenient to operate. Because it had wheels, it could be called a mobile siege cannon. A trebuchet was a tool that required separate assembly.
Olf thought that eight mangonels were more than enough. On top of that, there were the troops without emblems that had come as support. The commander of that force approached.
"I don't think there's a need to drag this out."
He didn't know the opponent's name or face. He was a man with brown eyes and a messy mustache, probably no older than thirty. The opponent showed courtesy, but he did not seem to respect Olf himself. Well, he must have something he was trusting in to have come here. Olf didn't mind. He was one of Viscount Ventra's commanders. He didn't seem to have any interest in commanding, but that was none of his business.
It was more beneficial to look at the battlefield than to worry about such things. It was better to grasp the opponent's strength than to waste time on trivial thoughts. Olf was concerned about the men who had been active on the previous battlefield.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Viscount Ventra's forces had two commanders. The other one was at least reasonable. In fact, that commander handled all the troop control.
That second commander had said, "Enkrid? Ah, that guy? He's half bluff. He goes around boasting of absurd achievements. If I meet him on the battlefield, I plan to put a hole in his throat." The sharp estoc hanging from his waist gave weight to his words.
Olf had nodded. They were fighting together, after all. However, they were peculiar men. The first commander with the bored expression just followed along, occasionally saying to hurry up.
'Whatever it is.'
Victory was preordained for this battlefield, and the main character was him. He would swallow the Border Guard and make this area a new bridgehead for the east. A grand dream took flight.
Around that time, rain began to fall. Rain from a clear sky. It was the summer god's prank.
Olf was on horseback at the rear of the battlefield. In front, a few houses were visible outside the Border Guard's walls. There was no sign of life in the houses abandoned by the residents. The mangonel catapults moved along the well-paved road. It was, of course, a road that passed between the houses. Seeing the catapults moving in a line between the houses was reassuring.
Drip-drip. It was time to move diligently before the light rain made the ground muddy.
"Hurry up," Olf commanded, and the troops quickened their pace.
The summer god's prank. A phrase for rain that falls from a clear sky. It was a kind of superstition, as there were no gods symbolizing each season. Well, it was called different things in different regions. In the west, they called it a shaman's mistake or something. He had heard Rem say that once when he saw such a rain.
Enkrid was not particularly nervous. He just thought he had to do what he had to do. That didn't mean he was going to do it half-heartedly.
'Is the summer god helping?'
As it was raining, the visibility had become a little more difficult. It was a good condition for those in hiding. Predicting the path the enemy would take was not a difficult task. It was thanks to his experience so far. If they had catapults, he thought they would naturally take the well-paved road, passing between the houses. His prediction was correct. A thing with wheels needs a well-paved road to go on.
Rumble.
Soon, the sound of wheels rolling was heard. They had opened the door of a house made of mud and wood and were hiding their bodies behind it. Audin couldn't hide like that, so he was inside the house itself. Behind the door of the house on the opposite side were Rem, Ragna, and Dunbakel. On this side were Enkrid, Jaxen, and Audin. Finn was further back.
'Just destroy the catapults and get out.'
Enkrid was making use of his previous experience. There was no need to burn everything in a single battle. He could just whittle them down slowly. It wasn't a strategy based on any particular tactics or strategy. He had just applied what he had learned from the battle with the gnolls, and it seemed plausible.
"Not bad," Krais had also nodded.
Well then, that's that.
Enkrid was hiding behind the door and saw a mangonel passing by.
"Fuck, it's raining," an enemy soldier said, annoyed, as he was pushing the mangonel. His eyes met Enkrid's.
Enkrid opened his mouth in a calm tone. "Audin, break it."
The soldier's eyes widened. As the surprised man opened his mouth, swish, thwack! A knife flew from Jaxen's hand and embedded itself in the man's forehead. The man, struck in the forehead, slammed his back against the catapult with a thud and collapsed. The way his limbs went limp and he crumpled to the ground was like watching an old wooden doll.
"Ambush!"
There were more than ten men pulling the catapult. He couldn't silence all of them. Enkrid also rushed out. Stamping on the ground and drawing his sword, he demonstrated a move that made three points. A diagonal jab to the left, pulled back, then another one to the front, and finally a poke to the right diagonal! Three thrusts created three casualties.
"Gack!" "Guk!" "Kwaak!"
Three screams erupted at the same time. The first one he hit had a hole poked through his mouth. The second, his throat. The third, he put his full strength into it, piercing the leather armor and putting a hole in his heart. It was a technique, an art that mixed delicacy and power evenly.
In that gap, Audin rushed out. As he broke through the wall with a thump, the enemy soldiers were even more surprised.
"Uwaak!" "What!" "...Gak!"
The sounds of surprise were varied. Audin stood next to the catapult, grabbed it with his left hand, pulled back his right fist, and threw it. Enkrid could see that the Balaf-style martial arts technique was mixed in that movement. Pushing the left foot forward and planting it, adding the rotation of the ankle, knee, and waist. The fist that followed was like a cannonball.
KWANG!
Amidst the summer god's prank, an explosion made by a fist erupted. The raindrops scattered in all directions.
K-CRACK!
A mangonel is not a delicate catapult. It is a weapon whose advantage is its crudeness. That didn't mean that the winch, trigger, or wheel were not important. A weapon with a structure also has clear weaknesses. Of course, Audin didn't care about such things. He had broken and split the thick wooden beam that supported the frame with his fist. Broken pieces of wood scattered amidst the raindrops.
He broke the catapult with a few punches. It was more than monstrous strength. Perhaps an Ogre or a Giant, a monster among monsters, could do such a thing. Even a Frog would find it difficult.
"A blessing upon this humble servant!"
To say such a thing while breaking a siege weapon with his bare fists. Enkrid marveled anew at his piety.
A similar thing was happening on the other side. There, Rem was playing Audin's role. His axe shattered the mangonel's basket and cut through all the sturdy ropes that served as the trigger. Ragna walked leisurely, cutting, slashing, and stabbing the approaching enemy soldiers.
"Everyone, form up! Don't charge in recklessly!" a commander among the catapult crew shouted. They had lost the first two weapons, but they couldn't just take it. They intended to pull back, regroup, and strike back. The commander thought this and was about to open his mouth.
"Gurgle-guk?"
However, separate from his thoughts, the meaning he held in his chest would not be expressed in words. Enkrid saw a shadow that had suddenly sprung up behind the commander. It was Jaxen. After slitting his throat from behind with a dagger, he threw the dead commander's corpse and stabbed a soldier who was near a siege weapon in the back. Dodge and stab. With that simple movement, the number of casualties increased.
Audin, instead of dealing with the enemy soldiers, only broke the weapons.
KWANG! KWANG!
Exhilarating sounds erupted one after another. It was natural for all eyes to gather on Audin, and in the moment they looked away, Jaxen had already disappeared. Only…
"Gack!" "Retreat, retreat!"
…a shadow that slit the throats of those who shouted was left. The harmony of sudden acceleration and a dagger. Jaxen picked out and killed those who were trying to rally the soldiers. Enkrid, thinking it was a scene he had seen often, swung his sword. In front of him, too, were rows of enemy soldiers.
Dunbakel only dealt with the enemies who got close to Ragna. Finn was at a distance, in a house further back. From the beginning, her role was to take in the entire situation from behind rather than directly participating in the battle. It was, of course, Enkrid's order.
They pushed forward. Breaking the eight weapons that had been coming in a line was not a difficult task. There were soldiers who approached to stop Audin. He grabbed the approaching soldiers with his immense strength, threw them, and charged.
THUMP!
He slammed his shoulder into a weapon and knocked it over. It seemed impossible, but it had happened right before his eyes, so it was just bewildering.
The time it took to break all eight weapons was just over ten minutes. The summer god's prank is usually short. And amidst that short prank, Martai had lost eight siege weapons.
Tweeeet!
Finn blew the prepared whistle. The main enemy force could be seen moving slowly. At the signal from the sharp-eyed Ranger, Enkrid retreated. Naturally, the others were with him. Dunbakel was the first to run. Seeing the sprinting beastkin, everyone retreated.
It was before the battle had properly begun, before they had even discussed surrender in front of the walls. Martai had lost its siege weapons, and the soldiers of the Border Guard, whose shoulders had been stiff with the weight of the enemy force, found some breathing room.
Enkrid turned and ran. If they just escaped like this, it would be the end. It could be called a successful operation. But Enkrid suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"What are you doing?" Rem noticed and asked.
Instead of answering, Enkrid turned his body completely around. In the back, he could see the stopped enemy force. A man who still hadn't grasped the situation, a man who was staring this way blankly, a man who was shouting that they had to chase, a man with wide eyes, a man with a bewildered expression looking at the fallen on the ground.
What had made them like this? What had stopped their feet? Something hot surged up from his lower abdomen to his throat.
"You're not going?" Finn raised her voice.
Everyone looked at their commander's back, wondering what he was doing. Enkrid… he just wanted to do it. He wanted to spit out that hot something.
"My name is Enkrid," he said, having stopped, revealing his name.
"If you retreat now, you can live," he raised his voice calmly. It was not a shriek or a shout. An appropriate resonance. And yet it spread wide, deep, and large.
The eyes of the enemies in the front line were fixed on Enkrid. Dozens, hundreds of pairs of eyes. Enkrid received their gazes. It was bravado. A gallant spirit that had suddenly surged up. And so he spoke. A declaration of war and a warning, with his name.
Everyone's gaze gathered on his unprecedentedly proactive act.
"Is he mad?" Rem said.
But it also made the allied forces watching feel an indescribable thrill.
Uwaaaaaaaah!
It was natural for the cheers to grow louder. The nerve to stop in front of over a thousand enemy soldiers. The spirit to shout in front of them. It was like watching the protagonist of a story.
"Get a grip. Are you on drugs?"
And Rem kept running his mouth from behind.