WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 187: The Road Home (8)
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The members waiting outside the city moved the moment the gates opened. There was no need for a separate signal. Every one of them was a veteran who had survived countless battlefields.
Clop, clop, clop.
Eight knights rode into Falken Fortress. Yet there were nine horses in sight, not eight. After confirming that his own horse was unharmed, Kyle climbed down from the wall. The members who had crossed the bridge after him swiftly looked over the blood-soaked area near the gate.
“Whoa. They’re all dead.”
“So this takes care of the area around the gate, more or less?”
“Looks like it.”
“Maybe we should’ve left at least one alive.”
“No. They served Baron Falken. Who knows when they might stab us in the back? Better to clean things up properly.”
“That’s not wrong. We’re practically halfway to success if we’ve made it this far.”
The dismounted members muttered remarks that could have been admiration, lamentation, or ridicule. The stench of blood hung thick in the air.
The soldiers who had been standing watch on the walls only moments ago were all sprawled in pools of blood. There were no survivors. Baron Falken’s soldiers had died without even properly resisting Kyle’s sword strikes. Among them were the three unarmed knights Kyle had captured. Unlike the soldiers, they had been beheaded.
“Kyle.”
“Are you all right?”
Hermann and Walter were the first to ask after Kyle as he came down from the wall. Kyle lightly nodded to show that they need not worry.
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Magic certainly is convenient in situations like this. There were plenty of frustrating times when it was just us. Back then, every squad had at least one mage.”
Walter’s casual remark made Kyle stop without realizing it. Stale memories he had forcibly buried in a corner of his mind surfaced again.
In the early days of the Northern War, the order had several mages as well. There were not many, but every one of them was skilled. Just as mages could not replace knights, knights could not replace mages. They complemented each other. That was no longer the case now that the war was over.
Come to think of it, am I the only person in the order who could be called a mage now?
The realization left a bitter taste in his mouth. Aside from Kyle, the eight people before him were the only surviving members of the order. When Baldheim, the capital, fell and the Celestial Knights pursued them, every member who had followed Kyle had died protecting him.
Cecilia is gone now. All I have left in these hands are the spells she taught me.
“Your mana control seems much better than before. Your magic too.”
“Do you recognize anyone here?”
Kyle deliberately let Walter’s words pass and changed the subject. Hermann, who had been looking down at the dead captain of the guard, shook his head.
“No. I’ve never seen any of them before.”
“Is that so?”
“Baron Falken rarely associated with other nobles. The only people who would know this fortress’s layout well are the Baron himself and a few of his vassals. Unfortunately.”
Hermann looked apologetic, but Kyle did not mind. He had expected as much.
Falken Fortress was that isolated. The Baron hardly attended social functions either. Even though considerable time had passed between Kyle’s arrival in the north and Hailen’s fall, Kyle had never even seen the man’s face.
The three knights, now dead, had told him where the Baron was usually likely to be. Still, the fortress was more complicated than expected, so they would have to search it themselves.
“More importantly, are we sure the Baron is in the fortress right now?”
Hermann asked. Kyle answered with a slight flick of his eyes.
“If the captain of the guard was telling the truth, then yes.”
“That saves us some trouble.”
“Yes. He might realize what’s happening and flee, so we should prioritize taking him alive. Before that...”
Kyle looked around the area near the gate once more. The inside of Falken Fortress differed from the usual interior of a castle.
Perhaps because controlling the bridge was its foremost priority, passing through the gate did not lead directly to a courtyard and inner keep. Instead, a broad, straight road stretched deep into the fortress. High walls, identical to the outer walls, rose on both sides as if blocking the way. It was clearly designed to allow large trading convoys and military columns to pass through quickly.
Then, from a corner of the stable before the gate, Kyle sensed an exceedingly faint presence.
“...Were there more survivors?”
When Kyle stared toward the stable, one of the more perceptive members approached it. Before long, a short man who appeared to be the stablehand was dragged out from behind a shadowed fence.
“One man?”
“Slippery little rat.”
“I, I didn’t see anything, my lords! I swear!”
Forced to kneel before Kyle, the man bowed deeply and begged desperately. His eyes were filled with terror as they darted toward the dozen or so corpses lying in the sea of blood.
“Are you in charge of this stable?”
Kyle looked down at him as he asked. The man frantically bobbed his head.
“Yes, yes! I’m the stablehand in charge here.”
“I only have one question. Do you know where Baron Falken is?”
“Y-You mean the Baron?”
“You don’t know?”
“No! I do! Unless something happened, he should be in his bedroom.”
“His bedroom? It’s already past noon.”
Kyle frowned and looked up. When they had first reached the Voldra River, the sun had been high overhead. Now, it was slowly sinking westward. Normally, people would have finished lunch and returned to work by now.
“Well, that is...”
The man trailed off. When Kyle pressed him with a steady glare, he finally opened his mouth hesitantly.
“There was a small banquet yesterday...”
“A banquet?”
“Yes. Knight Rudolf Alten had come a long way, so they wished to offer them a modest welcome...”
The man speaking suddenly flinched. When he slightly raised his gaze, Kyle was looking down at him with a murderous glare. The other members were no different. The name he had uttered carried that much weight.
Rudolf Alten.
There was no way they would not know the name. Kyle knew it, as did the others. House Haska, Cecilia’s family, had been served loyally by House Alten for generations. It was the most trusted knightly house.
Rudolf Alten was the head of House Alten and had served the previous Count Haska, who had died long ago, for many years. Rudolf had been one of the Count’s finest knights.
Rudolf is here in Falken Fortress?
Countless thoughts stormed through Kyle’s mind. He instinctively thought of Cecilia.
When she had died for him, House Haska had remained loyal to the royal family until the end. That had not changed even after Hailen fell and the war ended. Which was why Kyle could not understand why Rudolf, House Haska’s foremost knight, had come all this way to meet Baron Falken, who was practically Duke Ehrenfeld’s hand and foot.
Why? Could House Haska have betrayed them?
If not...
“My lords?”
After silence lingered for a while, the man nervously watched those around him. Kyle spoke in a cold tone.
“What you just said, is it true?”
“Yes?”
“Where is Rudolf Alten?”
“Well...”
“Is Rudolf alive?”
“I don’t know that much...”
As the man looked around anxiously, Walter suddenly moved behind him and struck his unguarded neck. The man let out a brief groan and crumpled limply to the ground.
“It’ll be faster to go ask him ourselves.”
“...”
“Rather than standing around here worrying about it.”
Kyle turned around. Eight members stood among the nine horses, silently watching him.
“Hakon.”
Kyle gave an order to the short-haired member.
“Stay here and watch the horses. Stop anyone who comes in through the gate.”
“That won’t be difficult.”
“The rest of you are coming in with me. Our target is Baron Falken. Kill any soldiers who resist. Knock out those who have lost the will to fight or surrender.”
“What about the servants?”
Gerant asked. Kyle answered without hesitation.
“Ignore anyone who is not a combatant.”
“...”
“It won’t be too late to deal with them afterward. Above all else...”
Kyle looked beyond the open gate. A small city stood by the river beyond Falken Bridge. The people within the city had noticed something was wrong and were beginning to emerge near the bridge one by one.
Without another word, Kyle stepped toward the Baron’s bedroom.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
Baron Falken did not wake until late afternoon.
The elderly noble sat by the bedroom window, quietly basking in the sunlight.
As the end of March approached, the weather, once cold as ice, was gradually growing warmer. The hours of dawn and sunset were the same. Compared to a northern winter, everything felt refreshing.
Yet the Baron’s eyes as he stared at the table were chilling.
Rudolf Alten. So that’s how they intend to play this.
His wrinkled fingers tapped against the table. Countless thoughts emerged and vanished in his graying mind.
A meaningless struggle. They are so stubborn that they are nothing but a fool.
Baron Falken inwardly mocked Count Haska and his knight. When he had made Rudolf an offer they could not refuse during last night’s banquet, Rudolf had not lowered their head. Instead, they had flown into a rage and drawn their sword in the heart of enemy territory.
The result had unfolded exactly as expected.
Rudolf Alten had ultimately failed to defeat him. Dozens of knights had rushed at Rudolf from every direction. Mages and archers had also been stationed throughout the banquet hall in advance. In the end, Rudolf Alten had been imprisoned in the underground prison beneath Falken Fortress. The Baron had ordered his men to rough Rudolf up a little, so the knight might be regretting their choice with their head pressed against the cold stone floor by now.
Should I just kill Rudolf?
The impulse came to him in an instant. Baron Falken calculated the repercussions of Rudolf’s death and the gains and losses it would bring him.
Count Haska is currently at the center of the remaining royal loyalists. If I kill Rudolf Alten, the loyalists will raise an army around him. It might be better to settle things at once rather than leave those who cannot be brought over alone. The Emperor would prefer a unified Hailen over an unstable north as well.
His first choice had been to win Count Haska over, but this did not seem like a bad second option. Having finished his thoughts, Baron Falken slowly rose.
By now, Rudolf may have changed their mind. Whether I kill them or let them live, I should go see them myself.
The Baron had just thrown on some clothes and was about to leave the room. However, the door opened from outside before the elderly noble could grasp the handle.
A knight, breathing hard, rushed in without warning. Upon seeing the Baron, he immediately shouted.
“There’s a problem!”
“What is it? Don’t tell me that fool killed himself.”
“Invaders! Someone broke through the south gate and entered the inner keep.”
“What?”
The Baron asked back. The knight stamped his feet anxiously.
“There’s no time! You must get somewhere safe at once...”
The knight raised his voice in desperation, but his cry did not reach its end.
A gleaming blade suddenly burst from his chest.
Splurt!
Bright red blood sprayed through the air. Eyes wide, the knight blankly looked down at the blade protruding from his chest. The sword slid free, and the knight vomited a mouthful of blood before collapsing helplessly to the floor.
Unable to react to what had just happened, the Baron could only move his lips soundlessly.
What is this?
His gaze slowly rose. Behind the knight collapsed before the wide-open door stood a man he had never seen before.
No, it was strange to call him a stranger. His face felt oddly familiar. He had dark brown hair and looked to be in his late thirties. The moment the Baron saw him, a sense of recognition surfaced.
“Y-You...”
“...”
“Who are you? Do you have any idea where you are...!”
The Baron finally came to his senses and shouted. Unbothered, the man approached and seized the elderly noble’s wrist. His grip was so strong it felt as though the Baron’s bones would be crushed, and he had no choice but to be dragged along.
He could not even scream.
The moment he stepped into the corridor, the thick stench of blood hit him from every direction. Unconscious servants and soldiers covered in blood, their eyes unfocused, lay scattered about.
Once outside, the Baron was roughly thrown to the ground.
“So he really was in his bedroom.”
“Judging by his complexion, he’s been eating and living well.”
“Looks like he’s put on some weight too.”
Such voices came from all around him. Ignoring his ragged breathing, the Baron slowly raised his head.
“It’s been a long time, Baron Falken.”
Hermann Hagenwald.
The Baron recognized the unforgettable face at once, and his complexion turned pale. He hurriedly looked around. The courtyard was already littered with dead knights. Only then did the Baron understand who the men before him were.
The Knights of Ash, whom he thought had vanished.
The northern knights who had once been the strongest on the continent.
“How...?”
The Baron murmured hollowly. Then footsteps entered his ears.
A man had already approached him. Hermann and the other Ash Knights stepped back as though making way for a superior.
The man before the Baron was tall, with pitch-black hair and eyes. In an instant, the Baron’s eyes trembled with indescribable shock and horror.
“Kyle... Baldrick...”
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