Chapter 38
Even Syang’s sturdy horns couldn’t break through the gate this time.
No—the gate had withstood Syang’s charge, barely. But it wouldn’t survive the next attack.
“A-A monster! Assemble the soldiers, now!”
The soldier’s panicked shout failed to achieve its aim. While all eyes were drawn to Syang, the slave soldiers had already climbed the walls.
They silently eliminated the guards atop the walls.
Syang stepped back slightly, then launched forward again like an arrow, his hind legs kicking off the ground with force.
Crack!
This time, the gate cracked. The massive crossbeam securing it from behind snapped in two, and one of the doors buckled slightly.
When Syang struck it again, the gate creaked open with a shrill groan.
The soldiers standing behind it froze in shock as they faced the massive beast.
“Kill it!”
Biskin’s soldiers thrust their spears forward. Their stances were solid, and the spearheads accurately targeted Syang’s body.
Clang! Clack! Clang!
But the weapons failed to pierce Syang.
It wasn’t his wool that protected him—it was barely five centimeters long at this point.
As the straw rag that had covered Syang fell to the ground, moonlight struck the deep blue glow of the armor beneath it, sending shards of light into the soldiers’ eyes.
They now faced a massive armored sheep that radiated an unearthly glow. Its eyes glowed red like a demon from hell, and it let out a terrifying cry.
Baaaaaaa!
“Soldiers of Hebron, advance!”
“Uwooooooooo!”
As the gate swung open, Hebron's shoulders poured in.
Biskin's soldiers, who had already turned in for the night, scrambled to arm themselves and run out, but by then Hebron's forces had already seized the key strongpoints.
“We’ve secured the weapons storage!”
“Captured 17 enemy soldiers!”
“All unarmed reservists have surrendered!”
Reports came in one after another from the advancing Hebron soldiers.
Though skirmishes flared at a few spots, the sheer difference in numbers made it clear they would be suppressed quickly.
One of the slave soldiers ran up.
“We’ve secured the gate to the lord’s manor!”
Looking toward the manor, I could see a soldier being blown back by a sudden gust—courtesy of El’s low-tier wind spirit.
With not just the outer wall but even the inner manor gates were secured, Biskin’s defeat was inevitable.
“That’s enough. Now send word to Delgain asking for reinforcements.”
Slave soldier Luchi leapt onto a stallion he had seized from Biskin and galloped out through the eastern gate. He was Hebron’s most skilled actor and an adept rider—perhaps due to his trace of fairy bloodline.
“Arrest everyone in the lord’s manor and throw them in the dungeon. Gag them so they can’t cry for help.”
“Yes, my lord!”
The manor hadn’t officially fallen yet, but it was only a matter of time.
* * *
Meanwhile, the soldiers of House Delgain were brimming with anticipation and anxiety over the battle slated for tomorrow. They spotted a rider galloping in from the northwest and sent men out to intercept.
Disguised as a hunter from Biskin, Luchi was brought before Baron Delgain.
“Hebron’s forces have invaded Biskin! Baron Biskin requests immediate reinforcements!”
“W-what are you saying?”
Baron Delgain turned towards Spiel.
Spiel’s expression darkened. Time and again, Hebron’s strategies had exceeded his predictions. The Baron of Hebron slipped through his grasp like smoke—frustrating and terrifying all at once.
“…We’ve been outmaneuvered. Hebron moved first.”
“But the declaration of war hasn’t even been delivered yet! Doesn’t that mean they’ve broken the law?”
“Not necessarily. They likely seized the proclamation. They must have been waiting for us to send it.”
“Th-then what should we do now?”
Spiel struggled to steady his unraveling thoughts.
He was Delgain’s chief strategist. There could be no more mistakes. Another slip would mean tumbling over the edge.
But Spiel hadn’t given up. He raised the banner of counterattack.
“Hebron may be strong, but Biskin was already preparing for war. It won’t fall so easily. In fact, this could work in our favor. Send reinforcements to Biskin and make Baron Biskin owe us a debt. That way, once the war is over, we won’t even need to pay him.”
Since ancient times, the greatest site to fight a battle was on enemy territory. It bought time by minimizing damage to one's own holdings and enabling you to destroy what the enemy wanted to protect the most.
If that wasn’t an option, fighting on an ally’s land was still acceptable, Spiel thought. Besides, the alliance with Biskin was as thin as a biscuit anyway.
“Yes, y-yes! That must be it!”
“Before that, there’s something I need to confirm.”
Spiel approached Luchi.
Luchi felt his heart sink, but he quickly regained his composure. Having lived as a slave, he had learned to suppress his emotions with drugs.
Spiel called out to him.
“Hey, soldier of Biskin.”
“Y-Yes? Ah, yes! I’m Luchi, a hunter from Baron Biskin’s domain.”
“A hunter? That explains why you ride so well.”
Spiel shot him a sharp look, and Luchi lowered his head respectfully.
Luchi knew well how to handle those who clung to nobles like parasites. They were most satisfied when treated like nobles themselves.
As expected, Spiel didn’t suspect Luchi, the slave-soldier.
“What was Biskin’s condition when you left?”
“It was dark, so I couldn’t see clearly, but Biskin’s soldiers were shooting arrows from the walls, and the enemy was outside the walls.”
“How many were the enemy forces?”
Luchi furrowed his brow, pretending to recall. He tilted his head and replied in an uncertain tone.
“There seemed to be quite a lot. The Baron believed there was no way to win, so he sent me urgently here.”
Following the script prepared in advance by Baron Hebron, Luchi acted his part flawlessly. And with that, he successfully deceived Spiel.
Spiel was confident Biskin hadn’t fallen yet. If even the reservists had been mobilized to resist, the territory could hold out for at least three or four days.
“Hebron may have a large force, but not enough to strike two domains at once. Arm the reservists and place them at Hebron’s border. Send all the regular soldiers to aid Biskin.”
“Do as Spiel commands!”
* * *
The Delgain forces arrived at Baron Biskin’s domain. They had minimized rest to shorten their travel time and broke through Biskin’s perimeter, still panting from the forced march.
The soldiers who had guarded the outskirts had long since returned to the lord’s manor to protect their lord.
The outer gates of Biskin stood wide open. The common folk had locked themselves inside their homes, waiting for the storm to pass.
Meanwhile, Biskin’s soldiers were still shouting battle cries and fighting fiercely. Though the outer wall had fallen, they seemed determined to protect the lord’s manor at all costs.
“The Baron of Delgain has arrived! Hebron’s stragglers shall taste our blades!”
Sir Histon, leading Delgain’s army, charged forward on his warhorse. Gritting his teeth, he urged his soldiers onward to strike the men he believed to be from Hebron.
“About-face!”
Sir Brown shouted.
The Biskin soldiers, who had appeared to be fighting Hebron, turned. They stepped back a pace—then joined the Hebron ranks.
Suddenly, the soldiers formed a solid wall, facing the Delgain army.
“It’s a trap! Everyone fall back!”
Histon finally realized and shouted, but Hebron’s plan had only just begun.
All around, “corpses” sprang to life, blocking Delgain’s retreat. They were slave-soldiers, covered head to toe in blood.
Histon, desperate to survive alone, kicked his warhorse’s side. The trained beast, bred to ignore fear, reared up and threatened to trample the soldiers blocking its path.
But just then, the bleating of a sheep echoed somewhere nearby.
“Baaaaaaaaa!”
Histon felt his hair stand on end—the sound chilled him to the bone. His warhorse shared the same feeling as its master.
The warhorse slowly gathered its thrashing legs and bowed its head low. It was the posture of prey facing an overwhelming predator.
The Hebron soldiers parted. Through the opening, Syang walked forward, step by step.
I sat atop Syang’s back.
“Thank you for coming. I am Baron Louis de Hebron. I stayed up all night waiting for you—so pay the price for making me lose sleep.”
I made a gesture.
At once, the Hebron soldiers raised their weapons.
Chuck!
“Advance!”
Sir Solon gave the order. More than 150 soldiers closed in, surrounding the 47 Delgain soldiers completely.
Chak! Chak! Chak! Chak!
In perfect formation, the soldiers stepped forward with their right feet.
Each step sent tremors through the earth—and through the hearts of the Delgain soldiers.
The Hebron army moved like a living wall.
“I—I surrender!”
Histon dismounted and disarmed himself.
To show his submission, he lowered his head and placed both hands on the ground.
Then, a soldier approached me and held out a ring.
“We’ve found Biskin’s seal.”
Back at Biskin’s manor, the search for hidden treasures was in full swing. Though it was an agricultural territory and unlikely to hold great wealth, there were bound to be some valuables hidden away.
Biskin’s seal was one of them.
It was a ring that Baron Biskin had hidden, with a gemstone engraved in relief to serve as the family’s seal.
I tossed the jeweled ring to Sir Brown.
“Brown, I’m entrusting the management of Biskin to you.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Leaving a portion of the forces behind, I returned to Hebron. We could have marched on Delgain immediately, but both Amy and I agreed—we should thoroughly shake out the Baron of Delgain’s pockets first.
That afternoon, the Baron of Delgain disowned his sister, the former Baroness Nurha, and her second son, Rustic. He framed the entire debacle as their doing.
‘He must have anticipated this and sent the declaration of war under Rustic’s name. Probably Spiel’s idea, too.’
* * *
It hadn’t exactly been a real battle, but the exhaustion was real. We hadn’t had proper rest since dealing with the Bebe bandits.
My desk was piled high with papers related to territorial management. And those were only the ones Amy had already filtered for me. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she looked at least three or four times more tired than I did.
‘No wonder the lords of Hebron had always let the paperwork pile up.’
To run a territory properly, we needed an administrator.
In that sense, hiring Amy first had been a stroke of luck for Hebron.
‘We’ll need to recruit a few more officials. From now on, Amy should serve as Hebron’s chief strategist.’
Through this battle, Amy had proven her abilities—not only in devising strategies, but also in executing them. Her meticulous nature ensured that she didn’t miss even the smallest detail.
* * *
“So this is what they brought?”
I was annoyed from the crack of dawn. Despite having captured all of Delgain’s knights and regular forces, the Baron of Delgain had the audacity to send a ridiculous offer.
“Yes, sir. The Baron of Delgain said it was his responsibility for failing to keep his nephew in check, and instructed us to deliver this to Baron Hebron.”
