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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 19: The Subjugation Battle (4)
The first time I met her was during the war.
It was when I had been released from prison and sent to the battlefield as a criminal soldier for the Empire.
— A Swordmaster? You've certainly climbed to a high position after being in prison.
— It's my masterpiece.
— Yes, and the Empire is your failed work.
— Haha! Your tongue is still as sharp as ever!
The Crown Prince introduced me to her.
He believed she was the person who could best understand my strategic value.
That's how our connection began, and thanks to the damn prince, we clashed frequently.
But at least, on official matters, we respected each other.
I was a strategic weapon, and she was the finest tactician.
The problem, however, was her attitude.
— The next defense battle will be fought here. You take my brother and cut off the enemy's supply line.
— That sounds dangerous.
— Yes, we'll likely lose about 30 to 50 of our soldiers.
— Oh, so my subordinates are going to die.
— If we sit still, hundreds or thousands will die.
I really disliked her.
Her attitude of not seeing people as people, just pushing others into danger from her desk.
Because of that, I was always sharp with her, and she mostly ignored me.
I thought we would be like this forever, constantly facing off.
I thought that until the siege of Yuiten Fortress.
It was the battle where she died.
The situation was dire.
If that fortress fell, there would be fewer than five strategic points left to defend before the capital.
And yet, we had no way to hold it.
Our supplies were delayed, and for a month, we hadn't been able to repair our weapons or even eat properly while defending the fort.
It was then that she proposed her plan.
— I'll be the bait. Gather all the explosive artifacts and place them in the outer fortress. I'll be there.
— Erilda!
— We need to cut off their core forces to last a month. While I hold off their special forces, hit their main force. Don't forget to organize a separate detachment to disrupt their formation.
Erilda Ortaire planned to use herself as bait to buy time for supplies to arrive.
It was the most efficient and certain strategy.
Of course, the barbarians' most feared name was "Callios Von Ortaire," but the one they marked to kill first was Erilda.
Her tactics were that formidable.
Because she saw humans merely as numbers, even herself, the strategies she devised were the greatest threat to the barbarians.
The Crown Prince objected, but his protests were ignored.
The situation was too catastrophic for even him to do anything about it.
The night before the operation, Erilda invited me to eat with her.
I asked,
— Are you tired? Or did you just want to run away and end it all?
My words weren't kind.
But Erilda calmly answered,
— No, actually, I want to fight more. I'm only doing this because there's no other way.
— There has to be another way.
— There isn't. The other methods carry the risk of self-destruction.
— Without you, wouldn't we be doomed anyway? His Highness and I are just brutes who only know how to swing swords.
— Those brutes are our hope. The soldiers' morale is more impacted by the aura flowing from your swords than by a hundred strategies.
For her last meal, she ate hard bread and a simple soup, which I found surprising, considering her usually fastidious nature.
But what stuck with me more than that was something else.
— What if I run away?
— I'm asking you for the first and last time. Stay until the end and protect the Empire.
— How should I respond to that…?
I was sarcastic, even though I had no intention of fleeing.
That day, for the first time, I saw her smile.
— Do you not trust the Imperial Army?
This woman... really, she had a smile that didn't suit her at all.
— Right, you wouldn't trust them. They couldn't even handle a single barbarian horde, which is why they had to pull you lot out of prison. We know it too. The Imperial Army is weak. If you're not here, it will collapse. That's why I'm saying this.
I don't know what she thought of me.
— Especially Yuren. If you're not here, no one can control that damn brother of mine.
— …
— Live. Not me, but you, live.
— Why do you care so much about the Empire?
However,
— Because I love it. The country where I was born and raised.
That smile from that night changed my perception of her, even if only a little.
Erilda died like that.
She lured all the enemy special forces into the outer fortress and then detonated herself.
All to buy the month needed for supplies to arrive.
After Erilda's death, the Imperial Army crumbled rapidly, falling to the siege of the capital within six months.
The half-year she bought allowed the citizens time to evacuate.
Again, I say, I hate this woman.
That mindset of hers will never change, and I'll probably never like her.
But I do acknowledge her.
She was someone the Empire needed, one of the few who truly cared for it.
Perhaps because she reminded me of someone I had to protect.
"Your Highness."
"...I ask this of you."
"I won't agree. But I will make this promise."
So I made a promise.
"I will ensure the Crown Prince returns safely to the capital. Even if it costs me my life."
Erilda looked up at me and let out a hollow laugh, as if my words were absurd.
Right, she's not the kind to believe in the meaning of promises.
So I said it in a way she could understand.
"I'll reconsider and reverse course if things become really dangerous."
In my view, her problem is simple.
She is too calculated to believe in miracles.
That problem is what led to her death.
"Until then, please trust the Crown Prince."
I wanted to show her a miracle.
Erilda glared at me for a moment before biting her lip and answering.
She probably didn't understand yet.
"…Don't forget your words. Reconsidering and reversing in dangerous moments."
"Of course. Now, shall we eat? I'm cooking. Shall I make something for you too?"
"…"
Her silence seemed like agreement.
Just as a smirk began to creep onto my face,
Rumble...
…The ground began to tremble.
* * *
Drenor moved swiftly.
The knights he brought along were his vice-captain and three upper-rank expert knights, capable of keeping up with his speed.
As they tracked the life signals in the highlands,
"Grrr…!"
Drenor realized something.
"Commander."
Brown skin, a body twice the size of a human, and tusks that jutted out menacingly, with dense muscles covering its entire frame.
A lower-tier commander-class creature.
But,
"…Three."
There were three of them.
At some point, the area had become surrounded by orcs.
Their numbers were in the hundreds.
Drenor's expression soured.
'They knew we were coming?'
In other words, the enemy had anticipated their strategy.
And the fact that there were so many orcs, and three commanders, suggested one thing.
Orcs of equal rank cannot cooperate with each other.
They must assert dominance through strength.
Yet these orcs were working together.
What did that mean?
It meant a higher-ranked entity was uniting them—a champion capable of commanding thousands of orcs.
"Captain…!"
The vice-captain seemed to have realized something.
Drenor was filled with anger.
'We've been outplayed…!'
There was no trace of the champion anywhere.
The commanders and orcs were here to delay them.
The champion's target was clear.
'His Highness!'
The camp.
"Break through! We must return to His Highness!!!"
Boom!!!
The Swordmaster's aura shook the space.
* * *
Callios surveyed the area around the camp.
It was then that he noticed something.
'…There are scouts.'
Callios' mana was denser and more concentrated than that of ordinary humans.
His detection ability was on par with a high-ranking expert even at this level.
There were enemies targeting this place.
They were likely scouts sent by the enemy's command.
Did they realize he was the leader?
If so, that was impressive.
'They deliberately let the scouts escape.'
They left the scouts alive to signal that the orcs had leadership.
Afterward, anticipating heightened vigilance, they lured Drenor into the highlands.
That left him, Yuren, three knights, and the remaining soldiers.
The enemy had gained strategic superiority.
What should be done next?
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Clara]
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Callios opened his mouth.
"You there."
"Yes, sir!"
"Return to the barracks and summon Lord Pharos. Time is of the essence."
There was no escape.
But the bloodlust was directed at him.
Thus, rather than chasing after the soldiers, the enemy would likely focus all their efforts on him.
'If I can bring Yuren here, it will strengthen my side.'
His combat prowess was certainly superior to Callios's.
Thus, with two experts on his side, he might be able to hold out until Yuren arrived, and then retreat.
The troops stationed at the barracks were fine.
The core enemy commanders were coming for him, but back there, Erilda and three knights were defending.
With Erilda's strategic prowess, they could hold off about a hundred soldiers.
'If I can endure until Lord Drenor arrives with Pharos, victory will be mine.'
Callios made his decision and shouted.
"Quickly!"
"Yes, sir!"
The soldiers hurriedly left.
Not long after, the enemy appeared.
Callios let out a dry chuckle.
'A champion.'
They knew how to play smart, sending a champion.
About fifty orcs surrounded him, as if acting as his guard.
Callios observed the champion.
Twice as large as him, wielding an enormous greatsword, adorned with splendid armor, and radiating an aura of intimidation.
In terms of pure strength, he was an upper-tier expert.
However, considering the natural difference between orcs and humans, the gap was even wider than that.
By sheer physical power alone, orcs were three to five times stronger than humans of the same rank.
Callios, being a mid-tier expert, could not win this fight by strength alone.
Yet,
'If I stay behind only to die, that would be a disgrace.'
He had no regrets about his choice.
If he abandoned the people to protect his own safety, he could never forgive himself.
Besides, it was a good opportunity.
A strong orc, no less.
"Well met."
Callios greeted his opponent and readied his stance.
What he recalled in that moment were Yuren’s teachings.
—Every sword carries meaning. Especially the imperial swordsmanship, created over a thousand years ago.
After persistently asking, Callios had finally gotten Yuren to speak about the essence of his swordsmanship.
It wasn't a direct lesson, but it broke certain conventions in Callios's thinking.
—Imperial swordsmanship was designed to fight against non-human races. The sword itself is made to counter these beings.
—Is that so? I never felt that during my training...
—That’s because you haven't reached the level to perceive it yet, Your Highness. You’ve also never had the opportunity to face them.
—So, how does one wield such a technique?
—It’s not about wielding it.
His first real battle.
Tension filled the air.
—It’s about understanding it.
Callios had studied the history of swordsmanship.
That’s when he realized something.
‘Imperial swordsmanship indeed exists for this.’
To face orcs.
Callios gripped his sword with both hands.
He then pointed the tip at the champion and lowered his stance.
It was a ready stance.
But historically, it meant much more.
Humans are weaker than orcs.
Human swords are, naturally, weaker than orc weapons.
How could that be overcome?
How could one deal with an orc’s relentless assault?
The founding emperor had devised a solution.
He exploited a trait he had learned from his time as an orc’s slave.
"Akh Sar!"
It was an ancient orcish language.
A ritual phrase that carried a binding force due to their faith.
A ceremonial stance.
A challenge to a one-on-one duel.
In that instant,
"…Gur, Zaka."
Thud!
The orc removed his adornments.
A red aura—battle energy—began to surge over his sword.
The orc took the same stance as Callios.
What had been a fight of one against fifty suddenly became one-on-one.
Now it was entirely up to Callios to endure.
The feel of the battle energy coursing through his body, the pressure of facing an unknown style of swordsmanship—it was overwhelming.
His survival instincts kicked in.
His senses and thought processes sharpened to an extreme.
In an instant, countless possible scenarios flashed through Callios's mind and were dismissed just as quickly.
As he entered an excited state, his mana surged with intensity.
Callios smiled inwardly.
'This might…'
…be an excellent learning experience.
If only he survived.
* * *
Shhh—!
Orcs attacking the barracks were cut down in droves.
Three remaining knights were mid-tier experts.
Being from the Imperial 1st Knight Order, they were also well-versed in defensive formations.
I flicked the blood off my switch.
I had just realized something about this weapon’s unique nature.
‘It consumes mana well. It also channels it just how I want.’
Given that my mana is inherently specialized for slashing, wielding anything other than a bladed weapon had always been difficult.
But this one was different.
Despite being in the form of a switch, its sharpness was unparalleled.
In any case, enough with the reflections.
"Your Highness."
"Lord Pharos! You must go and retrieve my brother…!"
"Your Highness."
Clap!
I clapped my hands in front of the panicked Erilda’s face.
Startled, she quickly regained her composure.
I spoke.
“I’m going, don’t worry. But, Your Highness, you need to stay calm yourself.”
About a hundred and fifty orcs had stormed the barracks.
But they were common orcs.
With three mid-tier expert knights, two mages, and fifty regular soldiers, defending wasn’t difficult if handled properly.
“I trust you know what you must do.”
Erilda clenched her fists and then spoke in a firm voice.
“Keep your promise. Bring him back alive, no matter what.”
“Of course.”
Erilda turned back, surveyed the battlefield for a moment, took a deep breath, and then shouted.
“Form a defensive line! Lady Lora, fall back! Mages, prepare confusion spells!”
Erilda was skilled in all forms of strategy.
Though it wasn’t her specialty, she was an excellent field commander.
‘They’ll hold here.’
As for Lord Drenor?
He’s a Swordmaster.
He’ll be fine.
The most dangerous situation is with the Crown Prince.
But he’s no fool.
He knew exactly what needed to be done and even sent the soldiers away to call for aid, so I’d give him a solid 90 points for his actions so far.
Besides, I had taught him the meaning of the ceremonial stance and the techniques of "Imperial Swordsmanship."
He would hold out for now.
‘He won’t last long though…’
I mounted my horse.
Then, following the soldiers' directions, I rode towards the Crown Prince’s location.
I steadied my breathing.
I didn’t want to use it, but just in case…
‘I’ll have to prepare for the worst.’
I gathered the mana that had been dispersed throughout my body.
And then,
Crack!
I concentrated it into my heart.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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