WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 34: First Subjugation Campaign (5)
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“We can't leave the knights to fend for themselves. Sir Eugene, could I ask you to help?”
Eugene was the only one with both the mobility and combat ability to help without humiliating the knights who received it.
The unit under his command consisted of dark elves renowned as elite skirmishers, so they could easily keep pace with mounted knights.
“Leave it to me. We'll depart at once.”
“Thank you.”
The guard captain bowed.
“If things turn bad, retreat immediately. Even if every other knight dies, all that matters is that you survive.”
“You're starting to sound like the Chief Constable.”
Varda urged her horse forward beside Eugene, who wore a faintly displeased expression.
“Wouldn't it be better for you to remain with the main force?”
“Even if you're an exceptional knight, it would be difficult to find your way quickly through a forest you've never entered before.”
“That is true.”
Varda raised a hand to one long ear and tilted her head toward the far side of the forest.
“I can feel the forest suffering beneath sticky bloodlust and fighting spirit. The knights must be there. I will guide you by a shortcut.”
“Understood. But if enemies appear, withdraw immediately.”
An elite force consisting of an elven mage, a human knight, a beastkin Squire, and twenty dark elf skirmishers set out.
“Don't think of this as a rescue. Think of it as going to watch. Be ready to retreat at any time, and even if you run out of arrows, avoid close combat. Hold formation, and I'll handle the rest.”
Eugene's mounted fighting style, swinging a massive long-handled flail, was most effective when he supported allies who held their line.
“Leave it to us. That's how we usually fight.”
“How does Sir Eugene understand what we want better than we do?”
As a minority people, the dark elves preferred combat doctrines that minimized losses. Eugene's orders neatly swept away even their tension over facing an unknown enemy.
“At the chestnut tree ahead, turn left. Right after that, the ground will be thick with tree roots, so be careful.”
Riding at the head of the group, Varda guided them perfectly. Forest magic gave her landmarks only she could see.
* * *
Led by Galia, the four knights rode forward without hesitation. Hungry for fame, they could not yield the honor of winning the first battle.
“Sir Eugene remained in camp, correct?”
“Yes! I checked until the very end. He hadn't even put a saddle on his horse.”
“Good. Very good.”
Galia was pleased by the Squire's report.
“Isn't that only natural? After taking all the glory in a trial by combat, a person should know when to yield some.”
“He isn't completely greedy, then.”
Knights Osram and Cain thought a little better of Eugene.
“There's the large boulder!”
Smiles appeared on the knights' faces at the Squire's shout.
-There will be a fork in the road before the large boulder! The larger encampment is on the left, while the smaller encampment and the bandit knight are on the right!
It was exactly as the captured bandit scout had told them.
The knights intended to lead this entire subjugation themselves.
“Gentlemen! I will handle the bandit knight on the right! The camp is small, so my men will be enough.”
Knight Galia shouted boldly.
“Very well. We will clear out the rabble on the left. Once we're done, let us meet again at the boulder.”
“Thank you for indulging my stubbornness!”
The other knights also wanted to defeat the bandit knight rather than mere bandits or mercenaries. The honor they could gain was on a different level.
Still, Galia belonged to the wealthiest house among them. They had been invited to the banquet he hosted, where they had been treated to plenty of food and drink, and it would be best to remain on good terms with him.
Friendships between knights, forged through banquets and battle, lasted a lifetime. Wandering knights with thinner purses than Galia's needed to take a step back.
“Sir Galia, may victory be yours!”
“May fortune in battle be with you as well!”
The knights split up at the fork, encouraging one another.
Galia then stormed into the smaller camp with twelve followers.
“It's an attack!”
“How the hell were those scouts keeping watch?!”
The bandits and mercenaries had never imagined the knights would split from the main force and force their way in.
A few hundred people moving together might be noticed, but no messenger from a mere bandit gang could keep track of several dozen cavalrymen conducting mobile warfare.
Amid the confusion, they grabbed weapons and shields, preparing to fight.
“Argh!”
Yet the heavily armored knight’s attacks quickly sent them rolling across the ground, their arms and backs cut open.
“N-No! Stop...”
The followers riding behind them gave them a barrage of hooves.
Crunch!
The loud sounds of bones breaking and bellies bursting echoed through the camp as corpses rolled across the ground. The bandits, their will to fight broken, began to flee.
“You bastard! I've finally found you!”
After cutting off the head of a fleeing mercenary, Galia glared at the bandit knight who appeared before him.
The black horse, black surcoat, and black helmet made him look as though he were advertising, “I am a fallen knight.”
To Galia, thirsty for honor, he was a mouthwatering prize.
“Excellent.”
The bandit knight silently leveled his sword, and Galia grinned. His opponent was not some lowly mercenary, but another knight. Fighting spirit and competitive desire boiled fiercely within him.
* * *
Eugene was impressed by the dark elves' mobility and endurance. Even though he had his horse moving at a canter, the third of the four riding speeds, they kept up easily on foot.
“Varda, are there any monsters around here that could threaten the knights?”
“This is not a suitable environment for dangerous monsters to hunt in. Besides, if a strong monster lived nearby, word would have spread long ago.”
The faint clashing of weapons, battle cries, and screams gradually reached them. They were close enough that they no longer needed a guide.
“I'll go on ahead! Follow at a pace that conserves your strength!”
Eugene kicked his horse's flank and increased his speed. Varda and Homi followed him.
“I can take care of myself!”
Varda shouted as if to put Eugene's concerns to rest.
“Understood.”
The dark elves did not try to stop Eugene. His martial ability aside, they knew he was flexible enough to wait for them if things went badly.
The three riders raced through the forest.
Before long, they came upon the large boulder and the fork in the road. Fighting could be heard from the small camp on the right. The moment Eugene entered it...
“Argh!”
He saw a knight's shoulder being severed by the bandit knight's sword.
“Sir Galia?”
This was the man who had come looking for Eugene, dissatisfied at not being chosen as a Champion. Eugene remembered his face because Galia had interrupted his shaving.
“S-Sir Eugene...”
Severely wounded, Galia spotted him and looked over with pleading eyes.
Flash!
Sword light gleamed, and Galia's head fell.
“Master!”
“No!”
The Squires and retainers who had lost their lord did not even have time to mourn.
“Urk!”
A comrade's scream as they were cut down while looking away forced their attention back. They had to save their own lives from the enemies directly in front of them. More enemy reinforcements had arrived, pushing them back.
The bandit knight shook the blood from his sword and turned toward Eugene. It was as though he regarded the newly arrived knight, rather than those worthless rabble, as a worthy opponent.
There was no knightly cry of “For honor!” nor a bandit's shout of “Hand over everything you've got!”
Only the bloodlust of someone who wanted to take Eugene's life could be felt.
“You aren't just an ordinary bandit knight, are you?”
Eugene sensed magic from the enemy before him.
Perhaps surprised that Eugene had seen through his secret, a spark of surprise crossed the other man's face as well.
Clink.
Eugene drew his long-handled flail instead of his sword. If this man possessed magical power, he could not let his guard down. The best approach was to keep his distance and kill him safely.
An iron shaft that outclassed an ordinary spear, a thick chain, and a vicious iron mace.
“...What the hell are you?”
For the first time, the bandit knight showed a human reaction.
Ignoring him, Eugene kicked his horse's flank and charged. The bandit knight spurred his horse forward as though refusing to lose.
Just before they entered engagement range, Eugene turned his horse sideways and swung his flail.
He's swinging already?
The bandit knight was startled.
A skilled warrior could roughly judge a weapon's range just by looking at it. Yet that massive flail was extremely difficult to predict, both in range and trajectory.
More importantly, Eugene was not aiming at the bandit knight.
Smash!
The terrifying iron mace shattered the black warhorse's forehead. The horse died instantly, its head and upper body crashing into the ground.
Whoosh!
The bandit knight, who had been charging forward so forcefully, was hurled ahead like a rock fired from a catapult.
He had been thrown from his horse. An armored knight flung away in the middle of a charge would suffer tremendous impact.
“Cough!”
The bandit knight's organs were violently shaken, and he had even bitten his tongue. Blood streamed from his mouth.
Clop. Clop.
Before the man sprawled on the ground could struggle to his feet, Eugene circled behind him and swung his flail again.
Crunch!
His head was crushed inside his helmet, and his face slammed into the ground. It was an anticlimactic end for someone who had cut down two knights from the subjugation force.
“Odd polearms really are convenient. No matter what trick the other side has prepared, they can't predict them.”
Homi smiled at her master's easy victory, while Varda looked unsettled.
“What is it?”
“Ah, nothing. Congratulations on your victory.”
-You fought so nobly against Sir Badel and Sir Lipton!
This battle did not quite match the chivalry Eugene had been praised for by the city noblewomen who had watched that fight. Varda quickly looked around, wondering if there were any witnesses nearby.
Eugene immediately moved to support his allies, who were fighting desperately. The backs of the bandits holding their line looked inviting.
Bang! Thud! Thud!
He struck them down with his flail as though playing whack-a-mole, knocking down one enemy every second.
“W-What is that?”
“What happened to the knight?”
The bandits panicked. In a one-on-one fight rather than a large battle, a fight between knights did not usually end so easily.
The Dhampir knight Derek and Galia, who had died only moments ago, had both fought for some time before their matches were decided.
They had never imagined Eugene would finish the bandit knight in two exchanges and attack them from behind.
“Waaah!”
The Squires and retainers, who had been struggling desperately, cheered as hope surged within them. They recognized that the person who had come to rescue them was the strongest knight in the region.
The bandits still outnumbered them, but with a knight attacking from behind and trapping them in a pincer, they had no way to hold out.
Crack!
If they fought Galia's followers in front of them, their heads were smashed from behind and they died instantly without even being able to scream.
Stab!
“Argh!”
If they looked behind them instead, swords pierced their sides and backs.
“We'll all die like this!”
“Run!”
The bandits fled in tears. Yet how could they escape with the enemies they had been fighting in front of them and a knight at their backs? One by one, they fell and were wiped out.
One of them was lucky enough to escape some distance away. He was already more than forty meters away, and it looked difficult to catch him unless Eugene rode after him.
“Catch that bastard!”
“Don't let a single one live... Urk!”
As Galia's retainers, their eyes bloodshot with vengeance for their lord, tried to chase after him recklessly, the long-handled flail blocked their way.
“Don't waste your strength. Rest.”
Holding the flail upside down, Eugene used its shaft to knock an axe into the air. He caught it midair, then threw it at the fleeing man.
Whoosh!
The wildly spinning axe blade pierced through the bandit's back and protruded from his chest.
Thud!
“A-Amazing, Sir Knight.”
“You saved our lives!”
The retainers looked up at him in awe.
“I am Eugene Mayer, a knight. I came after hearing the horn calling for rescue.”
A knight who had appeared in their moment of despair and saved them all. He was as imposing as an angel sent down by God.
“Sir Eugene, we did not sound the horn.”
Galia's Squire, clutching a bleeding arm, reported to him.
“The horn came from over there.”
The Squire pointed to the camp on the other side. Perhaps the situation there had already ended, because no sound could be heard.
“The fork going left from the large boulder?”
“Yes. The other knights rode in that direction, and we heard battle cries. A little later, we even heard a terrible cry.”
The Squire's face twisted as though recalling it alone frightened him.
“A cry? Was it a monster? Do you know what kind?”
“It was a cry I had never heard in my life.”
The retainers also shook their heads fearfully. If even they, who had plenty of experience with monsters from following knights, did not know, it would not be an ordinary creature.
“I can tell you one thing as well.”
Varda approached and pointed at the bandit knight's corpse.
“The one you defeated was a heretical knight.”
“I sensed magical power from him, but I never thought he would be connected to heretics.”
Eugene had assumed it was merely a magical artifact, so he was a little surprised.
This land acknowledged many different gods, so people were not called heretics simply because they worshipped a different god. There were no large-scale religious wars, nor did multiple faiths repeatedly fight to reclaim the same holy site.
Thus, the term heretic was reserved for followers of truly vicious and sinister faiths.
“I saw the wicked tattoos carved into his neck, arms, and forehead. Evil gods dwelling in the Otherworld often grant power in such ways.”
“Is that how he cut down two knights?”
“Tattoo magic has side effects, but the power it grants is undeniable. Tireless vitality, reduced pain, greater physical power. With comparable basic skill, it would be only natural to be no match for him.”
“I understand that this is no ordinary bandit gang.”
The presence of a heretical knight bearing tattoos meant there was someone who had carved them. The strange cry the retainers and Squire had heard would be connected to it as well.
“A heretical mage has joined forces with the bandit gang.”
Varda spoke with certainty.
Footnotes:
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