WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 50: Medieval Bulldozer (2)
──────
“How arrogant!”
“Does he think an honor like this is something to be taken lightly?”
A few knights reacted in disbelief. They had only just met Eugene after returning from scouting, training, or managing their units.
News traveled slowly in this age. It was not an unusual reaction from low-ranking knights who had come up from the countryside without connections.
“Of course, Sir Eugene was my vanguard commander from the start. May fortune follow you. I entrust my honor and my house’s honor to those dependable shoulders.”
The knights fell silent when Roxanne truly named Eugene as her first choice.
“Then, the knight who will go second...”
But as soon as Roxanne began discussing the next choice, they grew noisy again.
“It seems those defending the castle do not know you are in this camp.”
“Our side does not know all that well either, so of course they would not. They must be too busy defending Goldford.”
Varda looked pleased, as though she expected Eugene to win great honor once more.
‘I’m grateful that she believes in me, but isn’t she a little too unconcerned?’
He was glad as a knight, yet it also felt strange. A duel was, at its core, a fight to the death. Unlike combat on foot, where one could easily declare surrender at the right moment, mounted combat was far more dangerous.
“Do you know a knight named Geist among the enemy?”
“He was personally appointed by the Emperor. He always performs well in tournaments held in the capital. I have seen him fight as well.”
“It seems you have been invited to the capital too.”
“A few times.”
Varda narrowed her eyes as she searched her memories.
“After knocking down his opponent in a tournament, Sir Geist came over to where I was seated.”
“He wanted a flower crown.”
“What else would a victorious knight want from a lady in the stands?”
Large tournaments drew many daughters of noble houses.
Each had a flower crown she had made resting on her lap. When a victorious knight approached, throwing it to him was a point of pride for noblewomen.
“So, did you throw him yours?”
“No. I had been invited unexpectedly and came empty-handed. After that, the girl beside me kept glaring at me, so it was terribly uncomfortable. She had made her flower crown with such care.”
Varda smiled, perhaps finding the girl adorable.
“If Geist is here, it means the other Imperial Guard Knights have come as well.”
“That is why the garrison commander confidently proposed duels.”
“Even if every opposing knight were Sir Geist, you would defeat them easily.”
Varda said it without a moment of hesitation.
“He approached you hoping for a flower crown. You could be a little kinder.”
Even as Eugene said that, a deep sense of fulfillment rose within him.
* * *
Like Roxanne’s camp, Cordon Castle was lively again for the first time in a long while.
The residents and mercenaries were happy that the painful siege would end. They did not care who owned the castle.
“I hear all of Morad’s capable knights went to Goldford.”
“Of course they did. Going to Roxanne means earning the future head of the house’s hatred.”
The castle command was satisfied as well. With defeat all but certain, they had been given the chance to make a gamble with favorable odds. They even had the Emperor’s Imperial Guard Knights on their side.
Only the adjutant, who was always full of little worries, whispered to the garrison commander.
“Will this truly be all right? No matter how strong Sir Geist and the Imperial Guard Knights are, no one knows how the duels will turn out. If they lose...”
The adjutant wanted to trust the castle and hold out no matter what, while praying Timothy would defeat the enemy at Goldford.
The garrison commander gave an answer beyond anything the adjutant expected.
“Even if we lose the duels, I have no intention of surrendering.”
“W-would that truly be all right?”
The garrison commander had never intended to keep the promise if they lost. If a gamble cost nothing when lost, one had to take it.
“Didn’t the house already launch a surprise attack without declaring war?”
“Even so, this is...”
The adjutant wondered if this was going too far, but the garrison commander had already made up their mind.
Whether the castle fell in a siege or through duels, Count Duran would kill the commander once it was taken.
‘How hard-won is this chance to become a lord, and they expect me to surrender? To hell with that. Even if I have to die here, I will defend this place!’
The garrison commander clenched a trembling fist and steeled their resolve.
* * *
Eugene visited the dwarf smiths to inspect the weapon he would use in the duel.
“May I see your sword, Sir Eugene?”
Roxanne, who had come with him, asked carefully.
Her house, status, and forces were all vastly greater than his, but asking to see a knight’s sword was not an easy request.
“I know it is rude, but an Aether-forged sword is right before my eyes. I cannot resist.”
Aether alloy steel was made by magically infusing an unknown substance into rare metal. Only Luiamour, the first dynasty to unify the continent, had been able to forge it, and the technique had since been lost.
That was why saying an Aether-forged sword was worth a castle was no joke. It was not something gold could buy in the first place.
“Of course. You may draw it as well.”
That was why Roxanne was taken aback when Eugene casually handed over Last Autumn, sheath and all.
Gulp.
Her usual dignified expression vanished. Roxanne drew the sword with almost adorable tension.
Shing.
“Ah...!”
A blissful gasp escaped Roxanne at the sight of the silver blade.
When she swung it through the air a few times, a clear sound unlike that of any other sword echoed through the workshop.
“Would a goddess’s flute sound like this?”
The craftsmen who had been busy working all stopped to watch. Roxanne lowered the sword with a satisfied expression.
“Since I was young, I dreamed of owning an Aether-forged sword.”
“Does House Morad not have one?”
“That is the head of the house’s sacred heirloom. It belongs to Father now, and later it will rest in my brother’s scabbard. Either way, it will never be drawn before an enemy.”
Her tone was cynical, as though she were jealous.
“A sword should be in the hands of the person who can wield it best. It is a shame, even to me.”
“You always say exactly what I want to hear.”
Click!
Roxanne sheathed the sword and personally tied it at Eugene’s waist.
“You are confident about tomorrow’s fight, correct?”
“I will do my best.”
“Doing your best is not enough. You must win, no matter what.”
It was not the answer she had wanted, yet Roxanne was satisfied. Eugene showed no tension. She knew his composure did not come from the thoughtless arrogance common to knights.
“I heard you asked the smiths to make a weapon. You have an Aether-forged sword and a terrifyingly large blunt weapon. Why do you need another?”
“I have to win, and simply winning will not be enough.”
The long-handled flail was powerful, but it was most effective in a chaotic melee. Last Autumn was one of the finest swords in existence, but cutting someone down with a sword lacked impact.
‘If I want to break the defenders’ morale completely, I will need a performance.’
Eugene was the only knight in this world who understood the importance of a show.
“Sir, what you requested is complete.”
Torim, the representative of the dwarf smiths, brought over the weapon. It was simple in design, and since there were plenty of materials and craftsmen for making siege engines, it had been completed in no time.
“...You intend to use that?”
Roxanne stared at the weapon with a stunned expression.
* * *
The day of the duels arrived.
All the soldiers, merchants, and laborers watched the empty field with eager interest. A knightly duel that would decide victory or defeat in place of hundreds or thousands was the greatest entertainment of this age.
The first to emerge from Cordon Castle was a knight in Geist’s inner circle.
“Death to the rebels!”
“By the Emperor’s spear, let punishment fall upon the enemy!”
The mercenaries on the walls cheered with lips cracked and split from eating nothing but hardtack for so long. The Imperial Guard Knight felt their blood boil at the cheers pouring over their shoulders and raised a spear.
The weapon knights loved as much as swords was the spear. Long lances were used only in tournaments, while ordinary spears that were easier to handle were favored in real battle.
The Imperial Guard Knight shouted toward Roxanne’s camp. It was a bold provocation, demanding that someone come out at once and settle the matter.
“You Morad knight! Why are you not coming out at once...”
“Have you been frightened by the banner of the Emperor’s knights...”
“...Huh?”
The defenders, who had been banging their weapons against their shields in support, quickly lost their momentum.
The knight emerging from the enemy camp carried a huge lance that looked capable of killing an ogre in a single blow.
“Would you look at that madman!”
To the Imperial Guard Knight, Eugene looked insane. Compared to that lance, the spear they carried looked like a toy.
“W-what is that?”
“It is just for show. How could a person possibly use something like that?”
Unlike the defenders, who whispered in fear, the mercenaries in Roxanne’s camp erupted into cheers loud enough to shake the world.
The Imperial Guard Knight, who had been the center of attention moments ago, burned with jealousy and rage as the focus shifted away.
“For His Imperial Majesty!”
They immediately leveled spear and shield, urging their horse into a charge. Eugene also dug his heels into Might’s sides and rushed forward.
Eugene’s prodigious strength did not require him to brace the lance beneath his armpit or hold it with both hands.
He simply approached with the lance raised toward the sky, then thrust it forward in an instant.
Whoosh!
At that lightning-fast thrust, the Imperial Guard Knight felt as though a tree trunk had suddenly appeared before their eyes.
‘W-where am I supposed to block...?’
That was their final thought.
Boom!!!
The lance tore through the chainmail and bored a tunnel through the knight’s chest.
Craaaack!
The Imperial Guard Knight, skewered nearly a third of the way up the lance, went limp. There was no fall from the saddle in that head-on charge.
Drip. Drip.
Only blood poured from the lance, dyed bright red.
A knight skewered in midair and left dangling. It was a more miserable end than rolling across the dusty ground.
“M-monster!”
The defenders’ morale crumbled at that surreal sight.
“Did you see that?”
A soldier in Roxanne’s camp asked a companion with a dumbfounded expression.
“Woooooah!”
Instead of answering, the companion shouted, and the cry spread through the entire army in an instant.
‘That should have been enough to seize the initiative.’
Eugene tossed aside the lance, now cracked in several places.
“Could he be the Victor Knight who defeated Gord?”
One of the adjutants on the wall muttered as if possessed.
“The one who overpowered Volx through sheer strength?”
“I heard he stopped a battle during a bandit subjugation campaign with a single thrown spear.”
Crunch.
Geist stepped forward, gritting his teeth.
“Sir!”
“What is it?”
“N-nothing.”
The adjutant who had tried to stop Geist fell silent. They could not tell an Imperial Guard Knight, “Even you cannot defeat that man.”
Besides, Eugene was already shouting for the next opponent to come out. He mocked them for not daring to accept the challenge they had started while invoking the Emperor’s name.
This was no longer only about a duel. The Emperor’s honor was at stake.
“I am Geist, an Imperial Guard Knight of His Imperial Majesty! I will defeat you and defend this castle without fail!”
With a thunderous cry, Geist charged.
The silver blade of Last Autumn that Eugene drew collided with Geist’s greatsword.
Clang!
Geist possessed superb horsemanship and tremendous strength. He was famous for his two-handed swordsmanship, which could sweep through a wide area even from horseback.
Yet Eugene’s one-handed swing split Geist’s palm open and threw him off balance. The only blade that chipped was Geist’s greatsword.
Whoosh!
Eugene struck Geist, veering left, with the edge of his shield.
‘Your Majesty...’
Geist saw the thick mass of iron flying toward his neck and knew death had come.
Crack!
His neck broke, and the knight flew about five meters before landing in an undignified heap.
Two more knights fell in a single stroke each after that, and no one else came out from Cordon Castle.
When Eugene raised his sword toward the sky, earth-shaking cheers erupted from Roxanne’s camp.
“Victor Knight!”
“Victor Knight!”
“Victor Knight!”
Listening to the soldiers’ chant, Eugene pointed his sword at the garrison commander above the gate.
“Commander of Cordon Castle. Acknowledge your defeat and honorably fulfill your promise!”
Creeeeak.
Bang!
The response to Eugene’s cry was the castle gate closing tightly.
“Those heaven-defying wretches!”
“They broke the promise of a sacred duel. Do they truly not fear the gods?”
Roxanne’s knights were furious. In this age, an ordinary duel and a duel bound by a promise had different meanings.
The former was simply a more formal kind of fight, but the latter was a sacred oath. The oath was made not to the opponent, but to the gods. Breaking a promise staked on a duel was akin to blasphemy.
“Just what one would expect from Duran scum.”
Roxanne laughed it off, as though she had expected them to break their promise.
“The enemy has broken the agreement they made with the gods! All that remains for them is a miserable death!”
At her declaration, the besieging army cheered, but the dwarf craftsmen were especially delighted.
“At last, it is time to show our craft.”
Torim, the dwarves’ representative, lovingly stroked the battering ram.
House Morad had prepared many siege craftsmen. Those who handled more powerful techniques, such as making catapults, had gone with Timothy.
Just as Roxanne had been left with knights outside the main faction, the less prominent craftsmen had been assigned to her.
“There are few places where a battering ram could shine as brilliantly as Cordon Castle.”
“That is true. A man should clash strength against strength. Why do they dig such pathetic things as moats?”
The dwarves under Torim were masters of battering rams, an unfortunate craft pushed aside as fortification techniques advanced.
“This will be our last time. Let us all give it a worthy end.”
The dwarves were stubborn, but they were not fools. They recognized that the stage where battering rams could shine had grown far too narrow. Once this battle ended, they planned to change trades.
“We will smash down that gate without fail!”
“Only a battering ram can end a siege in a single blow! Neither catapults nor ladders can do that!”
It was the final creation made from all their passion. The dwarves swore they would conquer the castle with their battering ram.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
