〈 Episode 55 〉The East Targets the West 1

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"Knights and soldiers, take no casualties, and instead of advancing, order a temporary halt."

Sergen moved quickly. Before I could say a word, she was already building her command against my comments, preparing the best course of action for her next move.

"You're not the Count's favorite for nothing.

She was showing a certain veteran-like steadiness from the countless bandit and monster slayings she'd been through.

"Tir, do you have any idea of what they're going to do next?"

I flinched slightly at her first question.

"There are many other knights.

Not so much me, but rather the fact that there are quite a few hunters, knights, and soldiers who have spent their lives crossing swords with bandits, and her question is quite perceptive.

"I think it would be good to hear from others first."

Being a knight isn't just about being in command, barking orders at soldiers. A knight is someone who organizes the situation in wartime, voices his opinion, and exercises his right and responsibility to do so.

"It's different from the bandit warfare we've seen in the past."

"It's more like a guerrilla war."

As if waiting, Serghen looked at the knights, and they spoke.

"What should we do, then?"

"This guerrilla warfare is a way of keeping the fighting attrition, of eating away at our forces. There are only so many of these fools we can see."

"But didn't Tir say earlier that some bandits have formed an alliance?"

The knight looked at me for a moment.

"You haven't even greeted me properly. My name is Joffin, and I am the current deputy leader of the bandit raiding force."

I shake his gaunt hand.

"I wonder if he has no sense of authority, or if he respects Sergen's position, or if he's afraid.

A man who hasn't shown much leadership when he's been around the other knights, but when the situation turns to wartime, he jumps at the chance to lead.

'Opportunists, or loyalists.

Either way, such people tend to come up with pretty good solutions in times of crisis.

"Is there any evidence that the bandits have united in the current situation?"

"The big clue is that the bandits have abandoned their positions."

"If a large army like this is coming in, don't you think they might abandon their positions?"

The orc barrel explosion earlier had caused some casualties, but given their current strength, it was little more than fresh blood. If Serghen had been wounded, it would have been a major loss of power, but I had prevented it. The bandits, unable to make much of a loss, would probably have fled farther afield for their next operation.

"That may be so, but the average bandit doesn't take the approach of giving up all that."

"Why?"

"Because if they're bandits, they'll eventually run out of places to go and make this their last stronghold, and if they run away, what do you think they'll end up with?"

The reasoning behind not touching Harlem Street was similar. That beings with nowhere else to run would end up like rats biting cats, scrambling to avoid being taken away.

"They'll be fed to the monsters. Or absorbed by other bandits."

"Yes. They could set up camp elsewhere, of course, but in doing the work of a bandit, they would lack the most important thing."

"What is that?"

"Bandits... and most people of that ilk, for that matter... are all about food and possessions."

The knight can't sympathize with the ecology of the lower beings, which he doesn't know much about, but he's seen the physiology of bandits, and he gives a small nod of approval.

"I see... surely they must have a place to store their food."

"Even if it's hidden, there's no way to escape the greed of these nosy monsters...they'll build a camp and store their food in the hardest-to-touch places."

I'm not a hermit, but I've mastered the art of the hermit, which allows me to read my opponent's physiology. Slowly, I walk over to the smashed oak barrel and kick the dirt with my foot.

"Like this."

"Oh my... I've seen bandit camps before, but this..."

"You may not know. I've made it so you can't."

A large wooden shackle and a lowered door appeared at the base of a bursting oak barrel, which was pushed open to reveal a cellar that looked like it was meant for storing something, though there was nothing in it.

"This is probably where they've been storing the hostages, treasure, and provisions they've taken from Sirtus, Deckard, and other places like that. If such a storehouse is robbed, what future do you think the bandits have? Where would they go with all that food and property now?"

Joffin begins to listen to me, and the other knights and soldiers nod in agreement.

"The bandits are already communicating with each other, and if they have risen to the level of sharing even their own property, then they are one big army."

"Then why is the strategy guerrilla warfare?"

Joffin points to the guerrilla warfare practiced by bandits in the past, when all sources of funding and outlets were cut off.

"Bandits in their final days would sometimes gamble with their lives this way."

The soldiers were receptive.

"Did they use oak barrels to make fire from scratch back then?"

"Hmm, we dug trenches and used lassos and wooden spears, though they weren't very effective."

Joffin squared his shoulders, as if he didn't particularly want to disagree with me. The way he seemed to agree with me, but merely cited a different counterexample, suggested that he was more opportunistic than loyal.

"I'm sure he's sensing that this is a bit different from past counterexamples.

The idea of bandits using chemicals and explosives was unthinkable. The fact that there was anyone providing them with explosives in the first place was a big question mark.

"We have to assume that our current enemy is not bandits, but guerrilla special forces."

"And you can predict their next attack?"

I was confident of that.

"Yes."

.

It was getting dark. The sun quickly descended from the mouth of the mountain, laying down a black curtain, until the hoot of an owl was heard.

"Sasak!

For a moment, the sound of a large grasshopper scurries by. A sound so small it could be mistaken for the sound of moving grass when the wind picks up. A tiny, microscopic cacophony that's almost eerie in its regularity when the wind blows.

"Coming.

I slowly pulled the short sword from my sleeve. Their ash-filled stocks. The wooden boards and shields that had been lying around their camp, making makeshift barricades and tents in which to rest and sleep.

"Blame!

Small footsteps.

[If they are guerrillas, it is a surprise; if we are immobilized by the fire, they will strike first].

Hermitage, knowing their physiology, they are walking into a fight.

'They won't care too much for me.'

He's not a high ranking member of the Deckard estate, just a wanderer in Sirtus. No matter how much he might talk about the physiology of the hermitage, such a man would have no credibility. Especially in a legion full of snooty knights.

"Surely.

They'll just have to organize a surprise attack that capitalizes on the knights' arrogant noses. There's just one flaw in their plan.

[All listen to Tyr and prepare themselves.]

The nature of the marauding force Cercen brings with her, the maintenance of her one-woman rule, and the trust they place in her.

"Raid!"

One of the men shouts, and lanterns light up everywhere. Panicked movements in the shadows. Their shadows fade away as the lanterns are illuminated until they reach the barricade, revealing In-young.

"Get him!"

[Clearly, the people who are going to carry out this guerrilla operation are the ones who have some pretty important information about the bandits].

It's only fitting that the hermits, who move at night, should be able to escape the eyes of the knights.

[If so, is there any way to conceal themselves from the eyes of such powerful hermits?]

Sergen didn't dismiss the hermits; he asked how to avoid their eyes, but he didn't mention that they were hermits. If the knights or Sergen were to be killed here, this raid would be a failure.

'A hundred bandits may be decapitated, but the loss of a knight is a greater loss to our prospects.

That's what the assassins were after, and I slowly began to talk about how to get there, and it wasn't too difficult for the soldiers.

"How bandits and monsters hide.

It was very similar to that, and the mercenaries who had been fighting them for a long time had seen it, so it was very simple to hide in the tree trunks.

[So this is how the bandits have been hiding all this time.]

[Tsk, tsk, this is why it's been so hard to find them so far.]

Paint your body with the crushed juice of the leaves, and paste the leaves onto your leather to make it viscous, so that you become a human tree that can't be detected by smell or sight.

[The most important thing is that it moves for a moment when the wind blows.]

It would take a lot of effort to master the art of not moving at all for long periods of time. So, as a stopgap measure, they waited for the hermitages, stirring occasionally when the wind picked up. Luckily, the mountains helped them out, providing the occasional breeze that made it not too difficult to lay them down in the surrounding trees and bushes.

'There's no way they'll miss the peak of the first day.

On the first day, they were relieved to think the bandits had retreated. Their tired bodies, blasted by explosives, should have been just the right combination of defenselessness to ambush. In the middle of the night, when the knights are also exhausted and unpacking their armor, it's impossible for them not to take the bait.

[The knights must wear full armor and hold their nets and lassos in front of them, not their swords].

[Why is that, if it's a net, they can avoid it and come in and attack?]

[Their greatest danger is the danger of being caught. They may not be so afraid of dying.］

I analyzed the reasons for their sudden suicides.

"To avoid revealing Deckard's secret or weakness.

The current batch of hermits must have been in an intermediate position. If the knights were to try to catch them with a net, they would be baffled by the knights' preconceptions.

"A knight with a lasso?!

Honor-conscious knights use nets and lassos, not swords. This causes the damsels to panic with their own preconceived notions, and their minds are filled with thoughts of what would happen if they were caught in front of them.

[If they do try to lunge, it will be up to the Hunters amongst the Farewell Soldiers to take care of the rest.]

The Hunters with crossbows take aim at them, lying in the bushes at the foot of the surrounding tents.

"Fire!

With the lanterns already lit all around them, their bodies were already good targets.

"Ting!

The arrow struck the ankle of one of the hermits who was about to step forward. He crashed to the ground, snares and nets flying towards the rest of them.

"Catch!"

"Pull!"

The lantern-lit soldiers raised their gleaming swords in their blackened scabbards and began to make loud noises.

[A way to confuse with sound].

The Bastards' method of distraction is applied. He chases his target in all directions, cursing and making ridiculous noises to frighten them. This is compounded by the loud clang of a knife in the darkness of the lanterns, which deepens the terror.

"...."

The group of women who have escaped the nets, snares, and crossbows look at each other without speaking.

[Surely the most important of the remnant will try to kill themselves with knives.]

[Is there any way to stop them?]

[It's quite a gamble, but... yes.]

I slowly pulled out my short sword and slammed it into the shoulder of the first one with the dagger.

"Pook!

The weak shoulder.

[You have to catch it now. The first one to draw a dagger probably knows a great secret or weakness. Capture him alive, and you can kill the others.]

My shortsword was the signal, and the rest of the Hunters fired their crossbows at the other Hunters as they tried to kill the first one to draw their daggers.

"Pow! Pow!

They went down with a thud. Meanwhile, Jopin's noose caught the hermit with the shortsword in his shoulder.

"Gotcha! Pull!"

He squeezed her neck as hard as he could, trying to knock her out. His face lit up with glee as he realized he'd gotten it right.

[I'll leave the grabbing part to you, Joffin.]

Joffin, who seemed to be feeling a subtle competitive streak, nodded vigorously, as if to say, "Leave it to me," and, being the opportunist that he is, he grasped at this opportunity with both hands.

"The other knights, organize the remaining hermitages, and if there is too much rebellion, kill them!"

The order was to kill anyone who looked like they might be harmed, except for those who would be strangled by the noose or otherwise unable to commit suicide properly. Those of the knights who had failed the nets and lassos drew their swords at their belts and began to charge.

"Soldiers, catch the fleeing hermits, for there will be a reward for those who do!"

[Serghen, I advise you to stay out of this].

[Why?]

[Probably because you are the number one thing they want to catch, and if they are cornered and see you, they will pounce on you with their whole bodies on fire.］

[Wouldn't it be more effective if I were the bait?]

[If my plan fails, you'll have to step up to the plate].

But my plan worked beautifully, and by the middle of the night, the hermits' ambush had begun to clear out. A few of the fleeing female soldiers were wounded in confrontations with the soldiers, but it's not a big deal; they're currently assuming that their first priority is to escape and report back, so I won't kill more than necessary.

[So this is a... counter-attack kind of operation?]

[Yes.]

Guerrilla to guerrilla. The counter to a surprise is the same surprise.

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