Ode of the Brave - Chapter 122

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 122

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Ricart crossed the pass with sixty soldiers. In other words, he had crossed the border of the Kingdom of Adelorne.

The mountain road stretched gently downhill. It was so gradual that it was hard to call it a mountain road at all. Beyond it, a dense forest simply spread to the horizon.

He had known this already, but as he crossed it, he briefly wondered whether this was truly right. Moving sixty soldiers through at once was no small burden.

It was an extremely small force by military standards, yet not small enough to move freely through the forest.

There were paths one person could travel alone, paths fit for a merchant caravan, and paths an army could cross. You could not simply take any road you pleased, regardless of your numbers.

People had traveled this route since ancient times, so there was no need to worry about attacks by beasts or monsters. Still, given the circumstances, concern was unavoidable.

The forest was so dense that even scouting from high ground would make it difficult to spot an ambush.

Had the enemy already circled around and taken up positions in the forest? It would be difficult to station all five thousand soldiers there. Then perhaps they had a separate camp and divided their forces for an ambush? Or had they not arrived yet?

Various possibilities and questions arose. But judging and making decisions amid such uncertainty was a commander’s duty. A wrong answer came at a terrible price.

“Hmm...”

Ricart fell into thought before entering the forest. In the end, he resorted to a desperate expedient, a measure used only when there was no choice.

“We’ll go through in two columns. Each column watches its side. If fighting breaks out, drop your long weapons. Hide behind trees as much as possible and fight with your sidearms.”

Ricart gave the order.

The soldiers nodded. They had received weapons from the royal armory, and their equipment was exceptionally good. They had some confidence in close combat.

The sixty soldiers split into two columns of thirty and entered the forest. Ricart led from the very front.

The forest’s shadows fell over Ricart and the soldiers. The coolness was welcome, but it also carried an unpleasant chill.

It would be fortunate if nothing happened as they passed through, but that did not put their minds at ease.

To secure the supply route on an ongoing basis, they would need to control the forest itself. But they had far too few troops for that. Would they have to worry and prepare for battle every time they passed through?

It was a difficult problem.

In any case, they were crossing the forest to buy food for the winter.

Since they were a small force, their march was quick. They had not intended it, but their footsteps were quiet as well, making their movement more covert than expected.

About half a day had passed. They had departed Adelivari in the morning, and the sun was high in the sky when Ricart’s sharp senses caught an unfamiliar sound. He immediately halted the march.

No one looked especially tense, but they watched the forest closely.

Ricart sharpened his focus and listened. An unfamiliar sound came from far to the right. It was like knock, knock, a hammer striking wood.

Fortunately, it did not seem to be an ambush.

“It’s dangerous to stay on the road. Hide behind trees or in the brush. You, you, you, and you. Come with me.”

Ricart pointed out several soldiers he recognized, then led them toward the sound.

They had not walked far before the sound grew louder. Someone was clearly building something, and people were talking as well.

When they came closer and could make out some of the voices, they saw the enemy ahead. In a suitable clearing, they were cutting down trees, leveling the ground, and building a camp.

Ricart thought, as expected. At the same time, he was glad they had found them early.

But what could sixty soldiers do against five thousand enemies swarming about? If the camp was completed, the supply route could be cut off.

Yet war was like life. If you only avoided danger and hardship, greater danger and hardship waited ahead.

“Go get everyone.”

“Are we attacking?”

The soldier who asked looked as though the order had frightened him. Ricart glared at the soldier and spoke through clenched teeth.

“I don’t give orders twice.”

When he had to be firm, he had to be firm. There was no helping it.

The soldier hurried back to summon the others, and soon the remaining soldiers arrived.

They had eyes as well. When they saw the enemy building their camp, they sucked in sharp breaths. Their hearts thumped, thumped.

Five thousand people was nearly the population of a modest city.

The forest blocked their view, so they could see only one side. Still, the cranes, the logs and stones, and the other equipment and materials needed to build a camp were enough to overwhelm them with the sheer scale of the manpower involved.

“Get yourselves together and listen carefully. We’re breaking through their flank. I’ll destroy that crane. The rest of you, set fires and kill anything in your way, but never split up. Once we break through the enemy camp, run straight for that peak over there.”

In truth, Ricart’s orders barely registered. They remembered only the peak and the order not to split up.

“I promise you one thing. No one dies.”

Ricart spoke with a certainty that was almost prophetic. Then he drew his sword and ran toward the enemy camp. The soldiers surged after him, seeing only his back clad in a red surcoat.

The enemy had been resting, laying logs on the ground, using ropes to move stones, and doing other work. When sixty people suddenly burst from the forest, they were startled. The attackers’ momentum was no joke.

On paper, it was five thousand against sixty. But to those on the ground, it felt as though they were facing sixty enemies alone. No, it was not even a fight. Their only choice was to run.

“What the fuck!?”

“We’re under attack!”

The enemies shouted as they fled in a panic. Ricart and the sixty soldiers ignored them and kept running forward.

Then Ricart surged ahead and cut through the crane’s support in one stroke.

The massive crane slowly tilted and collapsed. Its huge wheel-like axle fell and shattered with a crash!

At that moment, the alarm bell rang.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Dust rose thickly, and the enemy ran about in confusion, screaming at the top of their lungs. Their voices overlapped until nothing was understandable. In any case, they were warning everyone that enemies had appeared.

Ricart and his soldiers kept charging forward. Rather than killing enemies, they were practically knocking them down and trampling over them. When they reached what looked like a barracks area, someone set it ablaze.

The enemy was so confused that they could not tell what was happening. Ricart and the soldiers, however, had a clear direction. They only had to run forward.

Of course, some fell to the ground. Others were delayed because desperate enemies grabbed at them, forcing them to stab those enemies to death.

Whenever that happened, Ricart, who had been cutting down enemies ahead, appeared as if by magic. He killed the enemy and took the soldier with him.

The soldiers’ spirits soared, and they shouted without thinking.

“The prince has returned!”

“Clear the way!”

It had become almost an official battle cry of the Adelorne Border Army. By coincidence, it suited the current situation perfectly.

But the enemy was no pushover. Even after being caught in a surprise attack, they quickly regained their formation. If only a thousand of the five thousand got their wits about them, survival would become difficult.

“Crow Mercenary Band, assemble! Assemble!”

“Just grab your weapons!”

“Where are the enemies!?”

“On the left!”

“No! They’re on the right!”

“Rangers! Rangers!”

Invincible Grants had several mercenary companies under their command, and each company in turn had several mercenary bands beneath it.

The five thousand troops were made up of four or five mercenary companies, divided into countless mercenary bands. There was bound to be a difference in their quality.

Some mercenary bands gathered their equipment and tried to hold their positions amid the confusion. Some tried to form walls. Others pursued Ricart and the soldiers or moved to block their path.

Ricart smashed through those who blocked him in an instant. A long golden line flashed through the air, the flimsy wall collapsed, and the soldiers surged over it.

They broke through the wall and kept running. They were almost like a chariot unit driven by horses.

Yet even amid all this, the enemy regained their formation. Rather than confronting Ricart head-on, they began to surround him from a wide perimeter.

Someone shouted.

“Your retreat is blocked! Surrender!”

The voice sounded like a commander’s, but its owner was nowhere in sight. Ricart could only shout back.

“Who says we’re retreating!? We came here to smash you to pieces!”

Ricart’s shout raised the soldiers’ spirits even higher. Their deep fear seemed to turn into a kind of madness.

“Waaaaaah!”

They charged like fire, shouting at the top of their lungs without even noticing how breathless they were. Even seasoned mercenaries could not hold their ground in such chaos.

They broke through several lines in one rush and forced their way straight through the enemy camp. Everything behind them was a complete mess.

They had achieved their first objective. Now it was time to survive.

“Run for the peak!”

Ricart shouted. From then on, the soldiers ran with their eyes fixed only on the peak beyond the forest.

Perhaps because they had originally been mountain troops, their stamina was monstrous. They ran on without tiring.

Meanwhile, Ricart raced ahead, behind, and beside them. He cut down enemies in front and somehow got every straggler back on their feet and pulled them along. Just as he had promised, there were no casualties.

But the real problem began then. Rangers attached to the mercenary companies started their pursuit.

They ran through the forest nearly as fast as roe deer and fired aimed shots. Though the trees must have obstructed their view, they pursued relentlessly and tried to pick off their targets.

They especially targeted Ricart, who stood out. Killing one commander brought far greater rewards than killing several soldiers.

Even Ricart had no method from that point on. He could only fight by relying on his sharp senses.

With inhuman perception, he snatched arrows from behind or struck them away with his sword, but he could not stop them all. The most dangerous thing on a battlefield was an arrow.

In an instant, arrows struck his body in rapid succession. But thanks to his armor, their heads only pierced his skin slightly.

“Idiot! Aim for his legs!”

Someone who seemed to be the leader of a group of rangers shouted. Keeping their eyes locked on Ricart with animal-like senses, they continued the chase.

Ricart ran swiftly past a tree. Instinctively accounting for Ricart’s speed, the ranger looked beyond the tree.

But Ricart was gone.

The moment they thought, What?, Ricart appeared before them and swung his sword.

It was the ranger’s last conscious thought.

But the troublesome thing about the rangers was that even after doing that, Ricart had only managed to kill one. The rest kept their distance and continued sniping.

An arrow grazed his face. Ricart ran swiftly, dodging what he could and blocking what he had to.

Even as he ran, he determined where the enemies were and how far away they stood from the direction the arrows came from.

Ricart’s expression was one of intense concentration. There was no room for fear or anger. As relentlessly as the enemy targeted him, he counterattacked them.

Ricart quickly closed in on another enemy ranger. The ranger hid behind a tree, then flinched.

The ranger’s neck had been cut along with the tree.

With a single swing, Ricart cut through the thick trunk. The tree fell, and the ranger’s head fell from their body with it.

The unbelievable sight left the enemy speechless for a moment. Then someone with some sense snapped out of it and shouted.

“Forget that bastard! Target the soldiers!”

That put Ricart in a difficult position. He needed to draw their attention and bear the burden himself. If the rangers pursued the soldiers, the losses would be serious.

It had taken half a day, six hours, to reach this point. Even if they ran without rest, it would take several more hours to leave the forest.

Then an arrow flew in swiftly.

But it was not aimed at Ricart.

It whooshed past him, and one of the enemy rangers fell.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

From that moment, arrows came flying in all at once as though in a volley.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

Ricart flinched, but not a single arrow targeted him.

To his surprise, the enemy rangers fell one after another. Every arrow had struck a vital point on a different enemy.

Is there someone else? Someone far more skilled. Who?

Startled by the unexpected development, Ricart hurriedly put his back to a tree.

Then someone came walking toward him from the front, crunching through the forest floor. The person wore a dark green hood and approached with only a bow in hand, no arrow nocked to its string.

There was not just one.

Rangers from another faction emerged from all over the forest, from farther away than he had expected, and approached.

The one in the dark green hood, apparently their leader, spoke.

“Are you on your way to take a job?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you an adventurer?”

“...What are you talking about?”

“Did you quit? Well... that can happen.”

“Do you know me? Who are you?”

Ricart asked. The person removed the hood.

He was a man who looked slightly older than Ricart.

His beard covered his lower face, and his eyes looked as if he were sleepy. Not because he was tired. That was simply how they looked.