CHAPTER 145

What are these guys?

Finn just blinked.

She recalled a previous battle, before coming to the battlefield, where she fought alongside Encrid and someone from the Border Guard—was it Torres or Toros?

It had been intense. Fierce.

He had fought with all his strength, barely surviving.

'Wouldn't it have been a breeze if these guys were there?'

It seemed so.

The three in chainmail armor were experts in combat.

They all wielded blunt weapons: one had a hammer, another a morning star, and the last a long pole with a metal weight at the end.

They were all tough opponents.

Above all, despite their armor, they weren't slow.

'If it were me...'

She thought it would have been hard to handle even one of them.

Their equipment was particularly challenging for Finn. Even if she managed to stab with a dagger up close, they would likely withstand it.

Judging by the thick gambeson under their chainmail, she figured she'd have to stab at least halfway in with a shortsword.

Would there even be an opportunity?

Assuming a gap appeared, what next?

Would the one being stabbed just stand there and watch?

They'd probably smash her head with a hammer or morning star. If her head got smashed, she'd die.

She didn't feel confident at all.

The friendly forces were toying with such formidable enemies.

"Brother, it's time to go."

A fanatical soldier, more devout than most priests, approached the soldier wielding a morning star and closed the distance, then struck him on the head with a fist.

'Didn't they say he's a master of Valaf-Style Martial Arts?'

He didn't look like it at all. The fanatic soldier simply overpowered the enemy with brute force.

The morning star-wielding soldier swung his weapon as he was struck on the head, and it hit the fanatic's forearm.

Despite not even wearing proper armor, the fanatic's arm seemed unscathed.

They'd need to check later, but it appeared fine on the surface.

Thud.

Even with that sound, the fanatic soldier's body didn't waver.

No usual groans of pain.

He simply did what needed to be done.

"Go to the Lord."

The opponent, struck in the head, staggered.

Then, using his left foot as a pivot, the fanatic's torso rotated. A small whirlwind seemed to form around his large frame.

Then, as he balanced his upper body with the rotation of his knees and hips, he kicked out.

A high kick to the head.

The moment the kick hit the soldier's head again.

Thud!

The struck soldier's eyes bulged out.

Even though the kick landed on the helmet, the pressure from the impact was too much to withstand.

'Wow, crap.'

Finn couldn't close her gaping mouth.

The other two were similar.

A maniac with an axe yelled in anger, then burst into laughter.

"What? You think wearing that means you won't die?"

His opponent wielded a long pole with a metal weight at the end.

As the metal-clad club came down, the axe-wielding man dodged the metal weight and reached out, catching the shaft below the head, then yanked it downwards, delivering a blow with his axe.

It was frighteningly fast. The flying axe struck the enemy's abdomen.

Bang!

It was like the sound of a leather drum bursting.

Kara-ra-rak!

The axe blade smashed through the chainmail.

The chainmail at the waist shattered and broke, and blood splattered out.

That wasn't the end of it.

The crazed soldier spun his body in reverse, swinging the extended axe back into the same spot.

Splat!

The second axe strike split the broken chainmail even further, tearing more than half of the enemy soldier's side open.

"Ggurrgh!"

It was only natural that the enemy died. Pink intestines spilled out onto the ground, along with a gush of blood.

The enemy fell to their knees and collapsed onto the ground.

The soldier with blonde hair and red eyes, known for being lazy, looked more enthusiastic than ever.

Clang! Clang!

Twice, he deflected a descending hammer with his sword, then thrust his blade. The motion was smooth, as if the sword naturally belonged in the enemy soldier's belly.

Slash!

The sword pierced halfway through the chainmail and tore into the enemy's cloth armor. As he forced the blade deeper, the enemy raised the hammer to strike down.

From above, in a blind spot where it couldn't be seen, the hammer came down to crush his head.

Just before the hammer hit, the seemingly lazy soldier released the sword embedded in the enemy's body and drew another sword from his belt.

Clang.

He struck upwards, deflecting the hammer.

The movement was so quick and unhesitating that Finn couldn't see all the actions.

'How well do these guys fight?'

The deflected sword struck the enemy's helmet, not with the blade, but with the flat side.

Thud!

The struck soldier dropped the hammer, clutched his head, staggered, and lost his balance, falling over. The lazy-looking soldier walked over and stood before the fallen enemy. Then he pushed the sword already embedded in the enemy's abdomen even deeper.

"Don't... don't do it."

Crack, snap, squelch.

There was something chilling about it, fear surged, and Finn felt a shiver down her spine.

The lazy soldier, who had pushed the sword through the enemy until it was embedded in the ground, straightened up.

The soldier, now only holding a shield after losing his hammer, kept shaking his head and grabbing at the sword stuck in his body, crying as he died.

While these three skilled enemies were swiftly dispatched, something else remarkable happened. Just when Finn thought she couldn't be more surprised, this was too shocking to ignore.

Most of the observing soldiers had died.

The cause was decapitation.

The last enemy, moving unseen, had been going around beheading the dazed soldiers.

Not with a longsword, but with a single dagger.

'When did he manage to do that?'

With all this shock and confusion, Finn finally spoke up.

"What are you guys?"

Krais was right beside her, wide-eyed and speaking up.

"Exactly."

Krais was calming himself internally.

Why was I so worried?

They fought so well.

The Madmen Platoon fought several times better than he had expected.

He had measured them against Encrid, but they exceeded any expectations.

A new question arose in his mind.

How well do these so-called Knights fight, then?

And he even felt admiration for the one who first assembled these soldiers into a unit.

"No, the person who sent the Platoon leader here is the real genius. That's it."

If left to their own devices, these people might have caused a massive explosion within the main force, but they had gathered around Encrid.

"Let's set the fire, Squad Leader Andrew." 

Krais said to Andrew, who was assigned as his escort.

"Huh? Uh? What?"

He was as shocked as Finn. He looked momentarily darkened but then returned to normal, even seeming somewhat relieved.

"Let's start the fire. If we stay here, the enemy's main force will come. Do you want to face them?"

No, we can't do that. That's not an option.

"Let's move."

Mac, Andrew, and Finn started striking flint.

Among the supplies was a pile of hay meant for feeding the horses.

Perfectly dry straw for starting a fire.

"Hurry."

Krais urged them. There was no need to ask why.

"Shit, they're monsters!"

"Spare me!"

They didn't kill all the enemy soldiers. As soon as they were mostly routed, they stopped.

There was no point in chasing them down, they couldn't kill them all anyway.

"Leave them."

Encrid made that decision even before Krais could.

"Understood."

Rem's response confirmed they were following Encrid's orders.

As the platoon members set the fire, Encrid spoke up.

"I feel like I have some sort of destiny with setting fires."

What kind of nonsense is this?

Did he get hit on the head during the fight?

"Pardon?"

"No, just saying. Let's go."

The fire started in the traps the enemy had dug. With spring here, such a bonfire wasn't really necessary.

It was just a fire. Burning brightly.

The flames rose, announcing their presence.

Encrid and the Mad Platoon slipped away like the wind.

As they were being led out, Finn said they only needed to move in a straight line now and joined Audin.

"Hey, what was your name again?"

"It's Audin, Sister."

"Really? Could you teach me later?"

Finn seemed to have developed a curious competitive spirit. Her eyes glanced over Audin's arm, noting again that there were no injuries.

This had nothing to do with Valaf-Style Martial Arts.

Finn's eyes showed a mix of curiosity and competitiveness.

Encrid didn't care what the two were up to.

Instead, he was focused on the ongoing training as they walked.

"I couldn't quite grasp the Sense of Evasion. It's an issue of experience."

He had listened to Jaxon and kept his words in mind.

"You said you wanted to use two swords? Remember, only when they feel more comfortable than your own hands will they be truly useful."

Ragna also had a comment.

"The first time you used the Heart of the Beast, that was, well, well done."

Surprisingly, Rem had praised Encrid's personal tactics.

Was it impressive?

Encrid didn't really care.

"Train well, Brother. It all adds up in the end."

It was as Audin said, after glancing at Finn.

Encrid also believed that constant practice paid off. But there was still the matter of when they would stop traveling along this ridge.

He thought it might be time to pull back.

However, there were still people they needed to meet.

As expected, two days after smashing through the enemy's trap with sheer force, they turned back towards the main force to evade the enemy's persistent pursuit.

They had stopped to chew on some jerky for a break.

Thwack!

An arrow landed among Encrid's group. It was aimed directly at Rem's head, but Rem dodged with beast-like reflexes.

He twisted his body to the side just in time.

Although he didn't completely avoid it, resulting in a torn earlobe and some blood splattering in the air.

Chewing on the jerky, Rem grinned.

"An archer unit."

Lately, Rem seemed to be in a constantly good mood. Encrid examined the arrow stuck in the ground.

It was short and sturdy, different from before.

"They've come prepared. There's no trace of them."

Ranger Finn spoke up. The archer unit, which had been harassing their rear, had returned to hunt the Madmen Platoon.

In other words, they were being tracked.

Of course, this was part of the plan.

"Are we good?"

Finn asked. Encrid nodded.

This was all part of Krais's plan, and Encrid understood the situation.

From the beginning, the purpose and objective of the Madmen Platoon was clear.

They were meant to distract and clean up.

Now it was time for the clean-up. 

* * *

While the Madmen Platoon was steadily whittling down the enemy forces, Marcus's main force headed towards Cross Guard.

Could they really capture the city with this small force?

It seemed unlikely.

However, it was a cause for concern.

Meanwhile, a guerrilla unit hit their rear, drawing attention away.

Aspen didn't have many options. Especially as a commander, his practical choices were limited.

"Cross Guard won't fall. But the stigma of the city being invaded will remain. We need to send reinforcements, even if only to prepare for the next battle. You need to clear out the remaining enemy forces in the detour route."

The commander's advisor spoke, and Aspen's commander deliberated.

Several scenarios played out in his mind.

Attack the city? With just that small force? It wouldn't fall. But the fact that Cross Guard was attacked would remain.

It felt like a peculiar matter of pride.

The failure of their plans involving Giants and sorcery had put them in a tight spot.

Would he go down as the commander who surrendered the principality's doorstep?

'No, that can't happen.'

Even if they didn't fall, the fact that they were attacked would remain. The stigma of being the commander who lost the city would stick. Could he bear that disgrace?

Or should he see this as an opportunity?

To say he wasn't conflicted would be a lie.

But his thoughts leaned in one direction.

The principality had failed with their prepared plans.

Naurillia had dug in deeper and expanded its territory.

If things stayed as they were, the borders between the two nations would change.

'Can we just let this happen?'

If they could wipe out the enemy forces on the detour route and withstand the remaining strength of Naurillia's forces? If that happened, they might even have a chance to hit them from behind in the detour.

Going to Cross Guard and leaving their position could be the worst possible move.

Who knew what madman was commanding them, but gambling now?

Why? They've already won this battlefield, haven't they?

Then, could this be seen as an opportunity? By not holding the detour and pulling back, they had given space for their special units to move.

"Sigh."

With a habitual breath through his teeth, the commander gave the order.

"Deploy a fast-moving unit to the detour route."

The order came out with a hissing sound through the gap in his front teeth.

"Yes, sir!"

The principality's forces moved quickly. However, the military aide felt a sense of foreboding.

'If this goes wrong...'

The consequences could be more than just shifting borders.

The aide longed to see Avnair.

Aspen's greatest strategist, who at a young age had already made Giants and others part of the military force.

'It's a pity, such a waste.'

Not being fully utilized because of his background.

Of course, this was just idle thinking.

In his eyes, Avnair was a genius. He could take care of himself.

"Send the Knights."

If Naurillia had the Red Cape Knights, the principality had the Aspen Royal Knights.

Aspen Royal Knights.

The name might lack uniqueness, but their skill was undeniable.

"Send two, no, three."

Perhaps the commander felt the same sense of foreboding as his aide.

The quality of the troops being sent to the detour route increased, and their numbers grew.

If the archer unit, annoying pests harassing from behind, were dealt with and the rest, including three Knights, advanced as planned? If the plan worked, it could be the decisive move that turns the tide.

* * *

"Captain, do you know the difference between a sniper and a hunter?"

Rem asked this right after dodging the arrow.

According to Krais's plan, their job was to deal with whoever was leading the archer unit, whether it was their claws, nails, or eyebrows.

In this situation, a decoy was used to lure them in.

For the decoy, Finn leaving appropriate traces was enough.

"These guys are sharp. We need to be careful."

Finn commented. Meanwhile, Rem kept smiling.

Seeing Rem, Encrid asked blankly,

"Do I need to know?"

"Not really, but I wanted to say it."

Rem could be overly honest at times. This was one of those times. He was always talkative.

"A sniper shoots targets from a distance, while a hunter is someone who, as the name suggests, hunts."

So, what's the difference?

"Shooting arrows from a distance is fun, but hunting is even more exciting, especially axe hunting. It's the best."

And so what?

Encrid's eyes conveyed this question.

"It means you should stay put and not get hit by any arrows while I'm gone. I'm going to take care of it."

"Where to?"

"I'm going hunting. When you receive a gift, it's only polite to return it."

Rem said, pulling the arrow from the ground. He tucked the arrow into his belt and walked off into the woods.

Should we just let him go?

It should be fine.

He wouldn't have gone if he wasn't confident.

As for the rest,

"Jaxon?"

The question implied whether Jaxon had any interest in joining Rem to perform a coordinated ambush.

"No, thank you."

Hmm, that was firm. Fair enough.

Rem would manage fine on his own. They decided to trust him.

"As for us, we should do what we need to do, right?"

Rem was the hunter, the archer unit was the prey.

And then, the Madmen Platoon was the prey for the archer unit.

Though summer might be more fitting, hunting could still be enjoyed in the spring.

So, it could be considered the hunting season.

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