WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Oblivious
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Prince of Rage ◈
Chapter 80
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Hayden Crossroads was a peculiar place. It was not a single village or city. Merchants, travellers, and pilgrims simply came and went without end.
That was why few had built permanent buildings there, establishing branches and residing for generations like the Lokir Merchant Company. Most merely set up tents, bought and sold their wares, then left.
If it had been a village or city, there would have been facilities to defend the whole place where people lived. Here, there was nothing of the sort.
Everyone simply looked after themselves, and peace was maintained under the pretext of safe trade and mutual interest.
Valerie and his companions bathed with the warm water provided by the branch staff and slept in clean beds.
When Valerie woke again, it was afternoon, a little past noon.
Knut was still asleep. He was not a child, yet he had kicked off his blanket. The weather had been chilly lately, and there was no fireplace in the room.
Valerie properly covered him with the blanket. Knut opened his eyes slightly in his sleep, confirmed that it was Valerie, then closed them again.
“Mmm... I’ll sleep a little longer...”
“I wasn’t waking you. Sleep more.”
Valerie left the room and opened the door to the one next to it. It was Brynhildr’s room. There were signs that someone had stayed there, but she was gone.
When he went downstairs, the corpses had already been removed, and people were diligently scrubbing away the blood.
“Eek!”
Someone saw Valerie and drew in a startled breath. The others stopped what they were doing and stared at him, their eyes fearful and tense.
Valerie calmly ignored their stares and left the building. He wore only a thin shirt, and the cold air after the rain swept coldly over his body.
Brynhildr was in the stable. She was tending to the horses’ hooves. Hoof care was not something just anyone could do, but she looked skilled at it.
She folded a horse’s leg and held it between her own, scraping away dirt with a skewer-like tool. It was not a particularly comfortable posture, and tending both the front and hind hooves was enough to make one’s back ache.
It was quite a curious sight to see a Valkyrie doing such work herself.
She had roughly tied her hair back and worked diligently without caring whether her clothes became rumpled or dirty. To Valerie, that sight made her even more attractive.
Brynhildr looked up when a shadow fell over her.
“Oh? You’re awake?”
“Didn’t you sleep?”
“No. I only just woke up too.”
“But tie up the front of your shirt properly before you work.”
“Huh?”
Brynhildr looked down at the front of her shirt. She wore a man’s shirt like Valerie’s, and her cleavage was plainly exposed. She had been bent over while tending the hooves, making it even more visible.
“Ah, sorry.”
She had no need to apologize, but she did so anyway as she properly tied the front of her shirt with its strings. She showed no particular embarrassment or fluster.
She acted like a lady around her mother, but she was naturally rather boyish and often behaved without much restraint.
“How much is left?”
“I’m almost done. Just a moment.”
Brynhildr finished tending the hooves of all three horses, then cleaned the stable. With a brush, she neatly swept up all the horse droppings, bits of fodder, and other debris.
Then she washed her hands at the trough, washed her face as well, and roughly dried it on her shirt.
“Let’s go inside.”
“Okay.”
Valerie brought Brynhildr back into the building. The staff had not yet completely cleaned up the blood, but he claimed a table and sat with Brynhildr.
They were only sitting quietly, but Valerie could feel everyone watching them carefully. Then Wilfred timidly approached.
“W-Would you like us to prepare a meal?”
“Before that, where did you put the bodies?”
“The bodies? Ah, we buried them nearby for now.”
“Dig up the heads and hang them outside.”
“...Pardon?”
“Where those dog bones, and everyone passing by, can see them.”
“...”
Valerie did not want the heads hung merely as a threat. He also wanted to show others that the merchant company remained standing, and to see how their enemies would react.
“...Yes, we shall do so.”
“And where are those bastards?”
“Pardon?”
“The main camp of those dog bones. Did they set up camp far away, or are they staying nearby?”
“They have a camp. If you cross the southern bridge and continue down the road, you will find it.”
“How many are there?”
“I do not know exactly, but I believe there are nearly fifty.”
Fifty was not a small number. Fifty adult men, especially adult men skilled in battle, could destroy a village without much trouble.
Unless troops were being gathered for war, even a count would find such a number threatening in peacetime.
“Fifty is a little excessive.”
Valerie considered it. Twenty would have been enough to destroy the branch. Bringing fifty meant that they were there to apply pressure.
They had sent a force that the Lokir Merchant Company’s headquarters, in other words Lucas, could not easily respond to immediately. The intention was clear. If they did not want to lose the branch, they were to swear loyalty.
“Back when the Silverrich Mercenary Company was still strong, they traded primarily with us, so we could have responded somewhat quickly. But not now. I heard they joined the Northern War, their commander was killed, and they suffered severe losses.”
Wilfred spoke.
But Valerie himself had killed that commander and inflicted those losses, when the power of the runes had gone out of control in Gringen.
Valerie did not feel particularly guilty. They had been enemies, after all. He merely found it strange how connected the world could be.
“How far is the camp?”
“About half a day on foot.”
Their commander did not seem entirely unreasonable. If they stayed here, though it was not strictly a city, they would be unable to keep their troops under control.
No matter how disciplined soldiers were, once stationed in a city, they soon loosened up, drinking, gambling, and frequenting brothels.
While Valerie was thinking, Knut came down the stairs with his hair sticking up. He did not look fully awake, still slightly dazed.
“Bring out the food.”
At Valerie’s words, Wilfred went to the kitchen to have the meal served. The waitresses had just finished cleaning the blood and withdrawn.
As Knut sat down, Brynhildr reached out and smoothed his sticking-up hair. It did not immediately return to normal, but it looked somewhat tidier overall.
“What are you going to do?”
Knut had become a little more alert and asked at once. He did not know exactly what was happening, but he was asking what Valerie thought. He would do whatever Valerie said anyway.
“I’ll go take a look later.”
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
Brynhildr asked.
“We killed everyone who came here. Since they are half a day away on foot, they will not know yet. By the time the heads are hung up, we should ride over and see what things look like.”
Valerie always saw things for himself before deciding. Honestly, he could go alone and kill around fifty men, but there was always a chance of the unexpected.
No matter how strong one was, strength was only attack power. As long as the body was made of flesh and bone, one could be wounded or killed by a stray blade or arrow.
Besides, Valerie always aimed for his opponents’ openings and weaknesses. He considered whether they were careless or exhausted, along with the terrain, weather, and everything else.
Numbers were not particularly important. What mattered was preparedness. If they knew Valerie was coming and were fully prepared, even fifty would be difficult. But if they were exhausted and careless, he could charge alone against five hundred.
Still, it was difficult to think the War Dogs mercenaries were fully prepared in the current situation. Common sense said so. Valerie intended to make the most of that.
A short while later, steaming food was brought out, and the three began eating.
However, Brynhildr and Knut had not even finished half their food when Valerie, accustomed to eating quickly, finished his meal and rose.
“I’ll go alone, so guard this place. You will need to guide me.”
Valerie looked at Knut, Brynhildr, and finally Wilfred.
“Pardon? Me?”
“Yes. Let’s return before nightfall.”
Valerie went outside to the stable, saddled Snow, whom Brynhildr had groomed so well, and mounted.
Wilfred followed outside with a bewildered expression and climbed onto a riding horse. Only then did Wilfred seem to realize that something was wrong.
“Surely you are not going to the mercenary camp?”
“Yes.”
“...Did you not kill the mercenaries this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Then they will hold a grudge.”
“They will not know yet.”
“But if they do know...”
“Then run away. You are on horseback, so what are you so afraid of?”
“I hear they have several cavalrymen as well.”
“Fine, do not come. I will go alone, so just tell me the way in detail.”
“...No. I will guide you.”
Wilfred could not make sense of it, but had seen what Valerie did that morning and did not want to act like a coward.
That did not mean Wilfred was riding out with confidence. Wilfred’s thoughts were in turmoil, constantly wondering whether this was right, but urged the horse onward regardless.
As they left the building, people were hanging heads from poles.
They crossed Hayden Crossroads along the main road and continued south until a bridge spanning a ravine came into view.
The ravine was deep enough that a person who fell would die, or perhaps survive if fortunate.
Arched stone pillars stretched across it, supporting the bridge. The stone bridge was magnificent in both height and length. It was also extraordinarily sturdy, so much so that people of the present day could not build one like it.
That was why people believed giants had built the bridge in the distant past.
Valerie and Wilfred crossed it.
Wilfred had said it was half a day’s journey on foot. Riding at a brisk pace, they reached the encampment on the plain before sunset. It was the War Dogs mercenary camp.
Valerie calmly observed them from horseback in the wind, while Wilfred watched in all directions in restless anxiety despite having no need to do so.
From what Valerie could see, they had chosen a suitable location for the camp, but they had not dug trenches or driven stakes, so the position itself did not look secure.
It was grueling work for soldiers, and they apparently had not felt the need to go that far.
Should he charge in on horseback and sweep through them? Even if he did, it would only throw them into confusion. It did not seem likely that he could inflict serious losses.
If he had brought an army, he could have pressed the attack and wiped them out. Since he had not, it seemed it would amount to little more than making an impression.
Valerie considered it for a moment, then turned to Wilfred.
“Let’s go.”
“...Pardon? Where?”
“Where else would we go? Over there.”
With that, Valerie rode toward the enemy camp.
Wilfred jerked in surprise, turning to look back and forth between the road they had come from and the mercenary camp. This was the time to run if Wilfred wanted to escape. This was madness.
Then why was Wilfred’s body following Valerie?
As Wilfred did something never attempted even in dreams, it felt as though thought itself was gradually disappearing. There were limits to boldness. This went beyond recklessness. It was simply asking to die.
Whether Wilfred felt that way or not, Valerie remained completely calm. Near the camp, he dismounted.
“I will be back shortly. Watch the horses.”
Then he entered the mercenary camp alone. Strangely, no one was on guard. They were all busy enjoying themselves with prostitutes or resting on their own.
It seemed that staying here had inevitably made them somewhat lax. They had not come to fight, and the operation itself was not particularly difficult.
Instead, Valerie stopped a passing mercenary and asked,
“Hey, you. Where is the mercenary commander?”
“...Who are you?”
“I have come from the Lokir Merchant Company headquarters.”
“An envoy? Hmm, go that way.”
As an ordinary soldier, the mercenary seemed to have little interest in whatever conversation the higher-ups might have. So the mercenary did not immediately show hostility toward Valerie.
The mercenary readily pointed out where the commander was.
The commander’s tent was indeed noticeably larger, and a few mercenaries guarded its entrance.
Valerie told them as well,
“I have come from the Lokir Merchant Company headquarters.”
They blankly stared at Valerie, then lifted the tent flap and called inside.
“Boss! Someone says they have come from the merchant company headquarters!”
“Gasp, gasp! Tell them to wait a moment!”
From inside came heavy breathing and a woman’s moans, whatever they were doing in there.
“You heard him, did you not? You will need to wait a little.”
“...”
Valerie thought for a moment, then drew his sword. The mercenaries guarding the entrance still showed no caution. They could not imagine that one person would do anything.
Valerie spoke to them.
“When a stranger arrives, you must be wary no matter who they are. This is as far as your abilities go.”
They had set up their camp somewhat far from Hayden Crossroads, carried out controlled killing rather than indiscriminate slaughter, and chosen a suitable campsite. They seemed like fairly capable mercenaries, but they lacked discipline where it mattered most.
“...What are you talking about?”
“So what?”
The mercenaries thought Valerie was lecturing them, and found it absurd.
Unfortunately, those were their final words. Valerie swung his sword so swiftly it could not be seen. One guard’s neck was split open, while half the other’s head was cleaved apart.
Before they even fell while spraying blood, Valerie flung open the entrance and stepped inside. A man and woman were entangled on the bed.
The mercenary commander saw Valerie holding a sword, leapt away from the woman in shock, and reached for where his weapon hung. But his head fell before he could reach it.
He collapsed with his hand still outstretched.
Thud.
The prostitute lay facedown, then turned her head, not knowing what had happened. The first thing she saw was Valerie with his sword. She did not yet realize that the mercenary commander was dead.
As Valerie picked up the head and went outside, her eyes finally widened.
“Ghk!”
She was so shocked that she could only make a strangled sound. No scream came out.
At that moment, people passing near the mercenary commander’s tent discovered their dead comrades. They also saw Valerie holding the commander’s head.
They did not immediately react, wondering what was happening. They first had to understand what they were seeing. It lasted only a moment, but Valerie moved faster.
He approached like the wind and swung his sword like lightning, cutting off both their heads at once. Then, carrying the commander’s head, he retraced the path he had taken.
Most mercenaries were inside their tents or scattered about, playing and resting on their own. They did not know what was happening.
They should have raised an alarm when something happened, but Valerie had killed everyone who could have done so.
Valerie swiftly killed only those he encountered and calmly left the mercenary camp. Wilfred was there, trembling with unease.
Valerie tied the mercenary commander’s hair to Snow’s saddle.
“What is that?”
Wilfred asked, eyes wide.
“The mercenary commander’s head. By the way, what was this person’s name?”
“...”
Wilfred could not answer. For a moment, a ringing sounded in Wilfred’s ears. Then every sound in the world seemed muffled, as if submerged in water.
Valerie mounted his horse and slapped Wilfred across the cheek.
Smack!
Wilfred startled and looked at Valerie.
“Get a hold of yourself. Let’s go.”
Then Valerie simply rode off. Wilfred hurried after him. No one pursued them until the two rode beyond the ridge and disappeared from sight.
The sun was just setting. The sunset illuminated the peaceful mercenary camp after the rain.
It was red as blood.
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