Chapter 309 - Try Cutting Down a Thousand Alone

Try cutting down a thousand alone.

A night passed without Encrid returning. At some point, the enemy had withdrawn like the ebbing tide. Ragna had not returned either, and Jaxon was nowhere to be found.

Krais recognized how serious the situation was. No, ominous premonitions kept needling his mind at every turn.

“Where is the highest point nearby? Somewhere we can observe the area.”

Even so, he remained calm. Before disaster struck might have been another matter, but once it had, there was no time to panic. Especially with Encrid missing.

‘I can't be sure, but if the Captain dies, won't I die too?’

What would happen if Encrid came back dead? Rem would probably throw an axe at him without warning. Of course, that was a half-joking fancy.

‘This is bad.’

Even if Krais survived, nothing good would come of it. The Captain's disappearance would cause any number of immediate problems. Asked to name them precisely, he would have needed to think before answering, but the conviction came naturally.

Ah, one thing was certain. The Lunatic Company would be finished. Someone capable of controlling Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin? There was no one.

In the past, they might have accepted a figurehead, but they had changed with time. Now, no one but the Captain would do. Without them, could Border Guard fend off Aspen's attack next spring? Not a chance.

‘Then I leave without looking back.’

What sort of patriot was he, to stay here?

While Krais stood lost in thought beneath a tree's shade, Nurat reviewed the surrounding terrain from the map and her memory, then spoke.

“Follow me.”

Krais looked sinister in the shadows. Nurat thought so, but said nothing. Something felt strange. Was it because that man Encrid was gone? The thought came to her suddenly. A woman's intuition. And it was right. Krais with Encrid and Krais alone seemed like different people.

“Let's hurry.”

At his urging, Nurat brought two horses, and they rode out. After passing a few nearby hills, they reached a rough trail. They would have to all but haul themselves up it.

No lady disliked a strong body and well-trained muscles. Since it was only natural for a lovely lady to take an interest in a fine physique, Krais had not neglected his training either. Thanks to that, he made short work of the steep mountain trail. Nurat, a trained warrior, climbed it even more easily.

Once at the top, Krais looked into the distance.

“Crazy bastards.”

The morning sunlight illuminated the surroundings, revealing the enemy formation. They had slipped into hiding between the hills. Should he pursue them farther? Strike at their rear?

‘A bad move.’

What if they followed and faced a counterattack? The terrain was far too well suited to ambushes and surprise attacks. However high their morale, however decisive their victory in the previous battle...

‘Our overall strength still isn't overwhelming.’

If they fell into a trap instead, the situation could reverse in an instant. Besides, they had set out on the premise that driving the enemy away would be a victory. That had been their goal from the beginning. Winter was on their side.

‘How will you hold out in this cold? What about supplies?’

Why did Aspen covet Green Pearl? Beyond the plains Naurilia occupied lay rugged country. Hills and ravines, steep mountains, and land infested with monsters. Neither enduring the winter nor maintaining supplies would be easy.

‘Four or five days at the very most.’

That was how long the enemy could hold out. In other words, this battle was won. Now they truly needed only to stay behind their defenses, shoot arrows, and endure. There was just one problem: Encrid's absence.

‘Did they abandon this battlefield just to catch the Captain? Give up a battle to kill a handful of people?’

That went far beyond audacious. The purpose of using a small elite force was to win on the battlefield. But if they gave up the battlefield itself, what remained? Securing what lay ahead. The future. Could they really have gone that far?

His ominous imaginings had found the answer, but Krais could not be certain. It was far too bold a move.

“Just one more day.”

Krais waited for the Captain. The words sounded ominous to Nurat, but she could not challenge him. Bereft of his Captain, the big-eyed man exuded a strange forcefulness.

* * *

Abnaire let a day pass. There was no need to press the attack now. He needed time to prepare as well.

The place where he had cornered Encrid contained a ravine and cliffs between three hills. It was also ground he had deliberately laid with traps. All that investment, solely to kill a few people.

‘Any unforeseen variables?’

He had planted the seeds, and they had borne fruit. Only the harvest remained. Harvesting would require a great deal of blood as well, but Abnaire believed it worthwhile. Therefore, nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

He thought it over again and again, taking a mouthful of sugared black tea. Sugar helped the mind work. What variables could arise here? There would be no mistakes, right to the end. However capable his opponent might be, unless he was a knight, escape was absolutely impossible. That was the extent of Abnaire's preparations.

After losing the previous battle, Abnaire had investigated Border Guard thoroughly. Had he lost because the enemy played its proto knight card? No. He had reviewed the battle and found the answer. He had already lost before the proto knight appeared.

He had found the reason for his defeat. Dissected the fighting. Picked apart the battlefield. And that had yielded their names: Encrid and the members of the Lunatic Company.

Their battles on the outskirts, their raids on the supplies—all of those had come together to paint the picture of his defeat. Every subsequent report of their exploits sent a thrill through him. His hair stood on end.

They would not stay quiet even within the city. As far as the Hurriers were concerned, assassins were being cut down, and anything attempted against the name Encrid ended only in failure. They were like ghosts that could not, would not, be caught.

And so...

‘I'll catch them.’

Abnaire was a strategist who prepared. So that was what he had done. He had played to his strength. Prepared, thought it through again and again, and cornered his opponents.

It began with bandits and fanatics. A good card had happened to land in his hand. Naturally, he used it.

‘Black Blade and the Cultists are no pushovers either.’

They were bound to affect Border Guard's strength. Abnaire deliberately refrained from fighting, waiting for his targets to split up. It would have been even better if Black Blade or the Cultists had killed a few of them, but he had not been that lucky.

Still, they had split up. Encrid had left Rem, Audin, and Teresa behind.

‘Only an amateur tackles them together.’

Above all, Abnaire had invested his “art” in this land. For Encrid, he had created something called the Triangle Seal and trapped him within it. For the other members of the Lunatic Company, he had sent blades suited to each. He had played the assassin clan card as well.

‘With this.’

He would kill them.

His mouth was dry, so he took another sip of tea. He swallowed and put his thoughts in order.

The losses were enormous. If everything went as planned, all he would gain were a handful of heads. On the surface, the heads of a few elite soldiers. To Abnaire, the heads of those who would become Aspen's greatest future threat.

With his thoughts in order, the next step was execution. The tent's entrance stood wide open, admitting sunlight and the winter breeze together. The breeze was not particularly cold. The weather was fine today.

“Let's begin.”

Abnaire spoke as he set down his teacup with a click. First would come the head of that man Encrid.

* * *

Encrid did not consider this a crisis. It hardly even qualified as danger. It wasn't as though a blade was at his throat.

He concealed himself in the brush and devoted himself to resting.

‘Whatever I do, my body comes first.’

His stamina could already be called superhuman. One night would be enough to replenish what he had expended. Even if he did not return to perfect condition, he could recover to some degree. That was the kind of body he had now, thanks to the Isolation Technique and Audin.

‘Should I thank him?’

The thought struck him anew. When he returned, it wouldn't hurt to at least say he owed him.

‘Stamina is one thing.’

Apart from recovering his stamina, his body had suffered considerable strain. He had swung his sword all day. It would have been strange if his body were perfectly fine. Burst capillaries had left bruises on both forearms.

He had done more than swing a sword; he had punched and kicked as well. Nor could he devote himself wholly to attacking. He had effectively plunged into the enemy alone.

Yet he could not block every incoming attack. Using his dodging sense, he had blocked or evaded only the dangerous blows and taken the rest on his body. More precisely, he had deflected them with his pauldrons, gauntlets, and shin guards.

It was utterly insane, but with the techniques Audin had taught him, Encrid did not consider it insane at all.

‘For a real knight, even this would be easy.’

As he briefly Reviewed the battle, he chewed the jerky he had brought and found a stream to quench his thirst. The water was clear. He drank it without boiling it, but it would take poison in the water for something like this to give him a stomachache. Judging by the sound of flowing water in the distance, a ravine seemed to be nearby.

‘I'll rest for a day and get out tomorrow.’

Even when he couldn't get his bearings, there was a way out. Pick an arbitrary direction and keep going straight. Even if it was the wrong direction, once his sense of direction returned, getting out would not be difficult. That was Encrid's thinking.

‘How did the battle turn out?’

It had not been a fight he could manage while looking behind him or surveying the battlefield. Encrid had given it his all, too. He had achieved these results by concentrating wholly on the fighting before him.

He did not know it, but that single engagement had tipped the balance. This battle would end in Naurilia's victory. There was nothing to be done for those who had died along the way, though.

Encrid did not know the precise situation on the battlefield either, but he understood that he had no need to rampage any further. Aspen had become a deer mauled by a predator. He had neither directed nor observed the whole battlefield, but he had felt its flow.

He found a suitable tree trunk and spread fallen leaves beneath it. Having found shelter from the wind, he closed his eyes. He needed sleep. Sleep was essential to rest.

He opened his eyes around dawn. His body, honed over long years, went straight into combat readiness upon waking.

RUSTLE.

He heard grass being trampled. Good thing he had not lit a fire. Otherwise, he would have conveniently advertised his position.

‘Actually, this works out well.’

He could find whoever it was and demand to be told where he was and shown the way out.

Encrid quieted his breathing and listened, concentrating on his hearing. At the same time, starting with a single finger, he slowly loosened his muscles. He prepared himself by warming his cold-stiffened body. His ears pinpointed the others' positions.

RUSTLE.

First, to his left.

RUSTLE.

This time, to his right. He began to sense their presence. That meant they were close. Still concentrating on listening, Encrid raised his lowered head and peered out.

‘What is this?’

It was no small scouting party, but a large force. They were probing the brush with spearheads. Repeated stabbing sounds came from the thickets. There were far more than a few pairs of eyes. Even a cursory glance showed enemies everywhere. Counting them was pointless.

So it was only natural that he was discovered.

“There he is!”

His eyes met an enemy soldier's. Sharp eyes, too. With that thought, Encrid rose fully to his feet.

“Get him!”

The enemy swarmed toward him. Fighting was not always the answer. Encrid withdrew. He was no fool. Krais often said his Captain was smart. He wasn't wrong.

Encrid thought quickly. Rather than face them, it would be better to use his feet and escape...

THRUM-THRUM-THRUM!

Before he could finish the thought, a volley of arrows poured in from one side.

‘They're insane.’

Shooting like that would hit their own men as well. Encrid raised his sword to knock aside the arrows he could not evade, spotted a large tree, and darted behind it for cover.

THUNK! THUNK!

Several arrows struck the tree.

“Aagh!”

“Ugh!”

As expected, a few arrows hit their own men. Even so, the shooting did not stop.

“Fire!”

“Keep firing!”

Arrows came flying. Encrid glanced at his sword's edge, then swung hard at the tree. A spinning cut with all his strength.

BOOM!

An explosive sound rang out. His sword struck the tree, hacking through half of it with shattering force. At the same time, a deep crack ran through the blade. The battle had already left it in bad shape.

This time, he slashed at the half-severed tree with his gladius. The Heart of the Superhuman beat. The muscles swinging the blade swelled in response. Then the blunt but sturdy blade smashed through the remaining wood, splitting it apart.

CRRACK!

SNAP!

The tree tilted.

“Huh?”

The enemy soldier directly beneath the leaning tree hesitated in confusion. Then the tree toppled, breaking branches with a crashing rustle.

“Move!”

“Shit!”

The enemy ranks lurched into disarray. Encrid seized the opportunity and ran flat out, heading in what he judged to be roughly south. He discarded the cracked sword and rearranged his weapons, placing the gladius at his left hip and shifting Spark to his right.

“Where do you think you're going!”

Heavy infantry appeared, barring his way. They blocked the path armed only with thick shields. There were well over fifty of them. When he considered going around, more enemies came swarming in from both sides.

‘Why are there so many?’

There were far too many. Had others been trapped here along with him? Encrid pulled back. He could charge in and kill most of them, but what then?

He had become the man he was by never wasting a single today. He would not walk a path that plainly led to death. He retreated again and ran.

As he ran, he kicked a stone off the ground. It clicked as it flew into the air, and he struck it with the flat of his gladius.

CLANG!

With a bright ringing sound, the stone shot away faster than an arrow.

THWACK!

It struck the head of a soldier ahead who was just raising his crossbow.

‘I'll break through here.’

He saw an opening where the crossbowmen were clustered. Encrid plunged among the soldiers, no different from a predator leaping into a herd of herbivores. He slashed and struck with the gladius in his right hand and thrust with Spark. Spark had never been a sword suited to cutting.

After killing five or six men and breaking through, he saw a path. It looked like a deliberately cleared trail through the brush.

‘There we go.’

Just as he thought he was free...

“Fire.”

Bolts flew from both sides. It was a trap that used a crossbow unit as bait.

‘Whoever planned this...’

It was a vicious trap. Encrid rolled forward. A bolt lodged in his armor. It had not reached his flesh, but he had no time to pull it out.

He kept running. He darted to one side and cut down seven or eight soldiers, then leaped back and cut down another fifteen or so. Over and over, he slashed, stabbed, fought, and fled.

The fight that began at sunrise lasted until sunset. No matter where he went, he could not escape. He felt trapped in a maze. Eventually, he even came upon a wall deliberately built of piled stones.

When had they prepared that? It was utterly absurd. There was no way to force his way through there. Especially not with a whole string of enemy soldiers on his heels.

“What the hell are you people?”

He was uninjured, but his arms and legs trembled. He had been running and swinging without rest. Everyone had a limit.

They said a knight could cut down a thousand men alone. Then what about a proto knight? A proto knight could not cut down a thousand alone. That was why he was a proto knight.

As Encrid ran, gasping for breath, Abnaire murmured to himself.

“Try cutting down a thousand alone. Then you might make it out alive.”

Otherwise, he would die. Aspen's strategist was certain of it.

* * *

FWIP-FWIP-FWIP!

Dozens of arrows.

After shaking off his pursuers and running, fighting and fighting again to the very last, he found three swordsmen who claimed to be from the Hurrier family behind him, and dozens of heavily armored shield soldiers blocking his path ahead. Then dozens of arrows came flying.

There was no time to dodge. One struck his abdomen, another his shoulder. His inner bandage armor stopped the one at his abdomen, but he mishandled his defense against the other and could no longer raise his left arm.

His pauldrons had been knocked away long ago, and only his right gauntlet remained. His boots were torn, too. A biting wind slipped through his slashed and tattered armor. He was a wreck.

Even at the last, Encrid killed two Hurrier swordsmen with Spark and severed the third's arm. The man who had lost his arm glared at him with bloodshot eyes.

“And I thought we'd overprepared.”

The man spoke. Encrid had no time to answer.

“Kill him.”

Dozens of arrows marked the end. No, in truth, a hundred and fifty arrows were loosed. A hundred and fifty longbowmen fired at a single target.

Encrid ran with a sword in each hand. A desperate last struggle.

“You're not going anywhere!”

The Hurrier who had lost his arm hurled himself at Encrid. As Encrid split his head with the gladius, dozens of arrows buried themselves in his body.

THUD-THUD-THUD!

His thighs, his shoulders. Worst of all was the arrow that grazed his neck, tearing away a chunk of flesh. His knees struck the ground first, and he pitched forward headfirst.

‘Crazy bastard.’

Only then did Encrid understand. All these troops, all these preparations, had been for him alone. It was madness.

He was annoyed. A little. Just a little. He had never died like this before, either.

As he closed his eyes, his body shuddered. He had lost too much blood to regulate his temperature. Soon, death came. Darkness veiled his eyes. With his body growing colder, it felt like a chilling death.

Then, after dying, he opened his eyes.

SLOSH.

With the sound of the river came the sight of the ferryman, aboard a rocking ferry with his violet lamp.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

The ferryman asked.