Chapter 174 - The Provoked Frog, the Panther, and the Man

The alarm bell rang, but no one woke to its sound. People already awake could hardly wake again. Everyone had spent the night wide-eyed, kept up by the warning that the Knolls would return. And now the horde of monsters and demonic beasts was back. This time, things were different. They charged across one side of the wasteland, with unfamiliar objects scattered among their ranks. In twos and threes, they carried long objects tucked under their arms—long “tools” with gaps all along their length. Unlike their previous headlong rush, there was some order to their advance. Dozens of these groups approached. Deutsch estimated their numbers the way a former soldier had taught him when he first became a mercenary. He curled his fingers into a circle, counted the Knolls visible through it, then estimated how many such circles would cover the whole horde. 'Twenty.'

About twenty in each circle. Fifty circles? That seemed about right. Ghouls shuffled among the Knolls and hyena demonic beasts. Their numbers were horrifying. There were even more than yesterday, and yesterday had already been a nightmare. Everything was horrifying, but worst of all were the things in their hands. Those long tools with gaps in them. “Ladders?”

The word slipped out of its own accord. Deutsch Fullman felt faint. The Knolls had brought ladders. Knolls used weapons, so they could learn to use tools. More absurd still, a glance told him these had been hastily cobbled together. 'They made ladders and brought them?'

What the fuck were Knolls doing making ladders? He had heard there was a sinister hand behind all this. It had to be that bastard's work. 'The Cultist.'

That thought made him feel even fainter. But the ladders were the immediate problem. Hastily built or painstakingly crafted, their quality would cease to matter once they were propped against the walls en masse. “Boiling oil!” Deutsch shouted reflexively.

“You think we have any?” the headman shouted back. They had some stones left to throw, but not many. There were still quite a few arrows, too, but could those repel what looked like a thousand monsters? When the creatures crowded beneath the wall, practically any shot would hit. But they had only twenty archers. They couldn't pour boiling oil down as though defending a siege. Should they gather filth to dump instead? Would a little shit and piss send Knolls or hyena demonic beasts running? Not a chance. Reinforcements would arrive if they held out for seven days, but could they?

'If only we had enough stones.'

What if the twenty archers and every villager pitched in? Once the stone-throwing was over, the villagers would be useless even as makeshift troops. Sending these people into close combat would be like tossing rare steaks to the Knolls. They couldn't haul enough suitable stones from the quarry in a single day. They had neither the capacity nor the manpower. They would carry whatever they could, but it was hopeless. That wouldn't stop the horde. 'Not a chance.'

Once the ladders went up, it was over. The disparity in numbers was too great to overcome with arrows and falling rocks. And if that Cultist pulled something, that would be the end, too. How could they stop a curse? They would be lucky not to all sicken and collapse. Even Deutsch himself had no adequate means of resisting one. This was beyond anything a mere Pioneer Village or a former mercenary corps leader could withstand. To be honest, Deutsch wanted to run. Yesterday's victory had already vanished from his mind. Had the craftsman brought here to build the walls said he would name them Encrid the Lunatic's Wall? What a joke. They wouldn't even lay the foundation stones. At this rate, this place would become a Knoll colony nest. Their village. A village of Knolls—utterly ridiculous. Of course, once a large punitive force was mustered, a mere Knoll village would burn in no time. But what about those who would die and lose their homes before then? Deutsch had invested his entire fortune, everything he had, in the Pioneer Village. Losing it would leave him penniless. He would have to start at the bottom again, earning his living by the blade. So should he run? Was that really the answer? 'Run where?'

He had nowhere to go. If he took the mercenary corps and escaped through the quarry, where would they go afterward? Across the border? As if that would go well. Traveling unprepared was suicide. Yet his long years as a mercenary told him that fleeing still offered better odds of survival. “Fuuuck.”

The curse escaped him unbidden. Just then, voices sounded beside him. “What was that fellow's name?”

“Deutsch.” He heard them at his side. The hero of the previous night. The mad Platoon Commander with black hair and blue eyes. The lunatic who had plunged alone into a horde of Knolls and neatly sliced up their leader. “Deutsch, let's crack the gate open,” Encrid said. Deutsch's brow rippled like waves, reflecting the turmoil within. Beside him, Krais recited his prepared words in a ringing voice. “I'm sure you haven't forgotten that my Platoon Commander holds operational command. You will obey his orders immediately, guard captain of the Pioneer Village.” He was merely reciting their obligations and duties, but the effect was clear. Krais's tone was neither particularly arrogant nor forceful. His timing, however, was impeccable. You don't have a solution anyway, do you? Can't you see that? Look at all those ladders. Isn't this worse than the first attack? And what will you do about the Cultist? You have no choice. In short, it was a way out. Relinquishing command would free him from responsibility. By Krais's standards, Deutsch Fullman was a dull-witted but admirable fellow.

'He could've spared himself the trouble by giving up sooner.' The Pioneer Village's defense force? Its guards? What was so great about wearing a title like that? An investment in the future? Ha, it was a gamble. How many Pioneer Villages had gone under that way? Especially when things had gone this badly wrong? In his place, Krais would have taken his mercenaries, stripped the village practically bare, and fled long ago. He meant that. Of course, Krais couldn't actually do it. If he did, Encrid might send a blade his way instead of a fist or foot. Honestly, what did the Platoon Commander get out of being so earnest about saving people? Thinking about it made Krais seethe a little. The man seemed to choose only the strangest things to do. Look at him—even now, he was at it again. It had been just after the alarm began ringing.

[“Only Luagarne, Esther, and I are going out.”]

[“Where?”]

[“Outside the walls.”]

That was what Encrid had said as the bell rang. Krais had seriously wondered whether Encrid had taken a blow to the head in yesterday's battle.

[“You know you nearly died yesterday, right?”]

Encrid nodded.

[“It was a little close.”] Did this bastard not value his own life?

[“Watch those eyes.”]

Encrid spoke the instant the thought crossed his mind. Not wanting an unnecessary beating, Krais let his gaze wander. [“What if you're unlucky today?”]

[“We have Luagarne.”]

No, however impressive Frogs were, was Luagarne a knight? She wasn't, was she? No. So it was dangerous. [“Find yourself something to do.”]

That was all Encrid had said. End of conversation. After that, Krais had put his own mind to work. 'Just one human, one Frog, and one panther fighting them head-on.'

What could the rest of them do? Cheer them on, for one.

'And provide well-timed arrow fire.' Krais cast aside the brief recollection. It was time to think about the task at hand. “Then, by the command authority delegated to me: open the gate,” he said. Encrid had already descended to the gate, talking with Luagarne. Esther could be seen trotting along beside them. 'Don't fucking die, sir.'

Krais said it inwardly. If his Platoon Commander died, his own chances of survival would be slim. He didn't think Encrid was a fool.

'He must have something in mind.'

Absurd though this was, he trusted him. Krais remembered Encrid's back as he stood protectively in front of him on a battlefield long ago. They had barely survived that day. The man back then could scarcely be compared with the Platoon Commander now. It wasn't about his promotion from Squad Leader to Platoon Commander. His skill had grown. He said his dream was to become a knight, and he was improving at a frightening pace—as though he really might become one. “I said open it. Insubordination is punishable by beheading, Deutsch Fullman!”

Krais's voice gained force, carrying an authority absent a moment earlier. He was neither a mercenary commander nor Encrid. He was merely a weak human. What else could he do but put the weight of authority behind him? “... Y-yes, sir.”

Deutsch responded. He was now a former guard captain, unburdened of his duties and responsibilities. “Cut off the heads of anyone who disobeys.”

Krais addressed the order to Deutsch, but surely no heads would actually roll. Naturally, none did. Soon the pulley rumbled into motion, and the log gate creaked open. Encrid, Luagarne, and Esther walked out. This was no headlong charge like yesterday's. The Knolls and hyena demonic beasts had formed crude ranks, while a group of Ghouls approached from one side. Somewhere among them, the Cultist would be hiding, too. Only three figures stood before numbers worthy of a great army. Seeing it made Krais's mouth go dry. He swallowed when no one was looking. Whatever those three did, he had to support them. “Bring every soldier who's confident with a bow.”

The archers.

“Keep stones close by, too. Ready to throw at any moment.”

And the villagers. All of them began moving at Krais's command. With a log palisade for their fortress walls, they would face the enemy army once more.

* * *

Encrid was glad Krais was taking the initiative. It left him less to worry about.

'I'd have worked my balls off if it weren't for that treasure.' If Krais hadn't been wrestling with some map, he would never have joined a mission like this. And Encrid wouldn't have gone out of his way to bring him. Without Krais, all the miscellaneous orders and petty tasks would have fallen to him. Deutsch Fullman—One-Eye, One-Eyed, whatever it was, something Glaive—looked as though he'd lost his balls.

'That's the face of a man who'll struggle on for a while, then croak.'

That defeated expression was one Encrid had seen often. He left it at that and turned his attention elsewhere. From here on, there was only himself, his sword, and the things he had newly learned to reflect on. It was time for that. Standing before the log gate naturally brought last night's dream to mind. His conversation with the ferryman, the ferryman's reaction, and everything that followed remained as vivid as a brand on his memory. [“You took a shortcut.”]

The ferryman betrayed no emotion as he spoke.

'It just worked out that way.'

Encrid spoke only in his mind. Somehow, the ferryman understood. The ferry rocked up and down, though there were no waves. It seemed to reflect the ferryman's mood. How dare you? A shortcut? Such trickery? Yet Encrid remained calm.

[“Bound by the laws, you shall wander through time and rue it. This is not the end.”]

The ferryman recited something like verse as a warning. Encrid simply took it as it came. What was the point of pondering words he couldn't even understand? Awake or dreaming, he merely dreamed of tomorrow. That was the end of it. The ferryman vanished, and a nightmare followed. He was trapped in a well, repeating a day in which he could see the moon shining overhead but could never climb out. In the dream, he clawed desperately up the wall, his nails cracking, peeling, and tearing loose, but he never reached the top. That was why he had thrashed in his sleep. “What sort of dream was it?” Luagarne asked as the log gate opened.

“One with beautiful moonlight.” It wasn't a lie. The moonlight pouring into the well had been truly beautiful. Even in a dream, it was intoxicating. Moonlight that needed not a drop of liquor. “Doesn't sound like a nightmare.”

“Doesn't it?”

They exchanged those few casual words. “HISSS.”

Esther cried out at the open gate. Encrid glanced down beside him and felt her staring straight at him. “I'll be counting on you again today.”

Esther was no ordinary panther. He had already acknowledged that fact. Then what about him? “Hoooo.”

He steadied his breathing and reviewed what he'd learned. Ah, but there was something to check before that. He'd nearly forgotten. “Luagarne.”

“Speak.”

“Why don't you show me what you can do?” How well would a provoked Frog fight? He reminded her of something she might have forgotten. GRRRR.

Luagarne's cheeks swelled enormously. “Very well. I'll show you.”

The Frog moved first. BOOM!

She kicked off the ground and charged, sending earth shooting up like a fountain. What a reassuring sight. He really was curious. How well would a provoked Frog fight?