Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Since ancient times, a vast gap had existed between infantry walking on two legs and cavalry riding on four.

To make a comparison, it was like a fight between someone walking on their thighs without lower legs and someone walking fine on their feet.

Compared to the former, the latter could move at greater speed, look around with a wide view from a high position, and always force a battlefield to their own advantage.

If the weapon known as a bow was added to that, from then on it literally became a nightmare.

Archery was originally a branch of service that unilaterally devastated infantry holding swords and spears from afar, and if such troops even gained mobility, they could unilaterally strike from then on while inflicting damage.

The reason why those who could execute horse archery were rare despite such overwhelming performance was, simply put, because it was terribly difficult.

Both unrelated skills of archery and horsemanship had to reach a high level, and in a typical agrarian society, those who could do so were only a privileged few who could learn to ride horses from childhood and invest time in shooting bows.

Setting aside the people of Horais in the west, who were said to ride horses from birth, were there even a hundred people combined in Libert who knew how to skillfully shoot a bow while riding a horse?

Even among them, for most of them, shooting a target within twenty meters at best would be their limit.

Therefore, the moment Shan magnificently demonstrated horse archery and sniped an enemy at a distance of about fifty meters, the mercenaries who had rushed out felt an emotion beyond bewilderment, bordering almost on terror.

“Horse archer…!”

“Go tell the mounted guys to come! Archers, keep him at bay in the meantime!”

The instruction of the mercenary squad leader, who hastily hid behind a large shield, was truly accurate for someone who had never faced a proper horse archer before.

Originally, the natural enemies of horse archers were foot archers and cavalry, which separated the horse archer’s two roles.

The shots of foot archers standing on two feet on the ground were faster and more accurate than those of horse archers, while cavalry, unlike infantry, were fast enough to catch up with and kill fleeing horse archers.

Unfortunately, however, Shan was an existence on a completely different level from such ordinary horse archers.

When he pulled out arrows from his saddle pouch and fired them in succession, the three archers mixed among the mercenaries who had rushed out lost their lives in an instant.

Unlike his first barrage, this time not a single shot missed, striking with precise accuracy.

Fortunately for them, while two collapsed with their eyes and necks pierced, one managed a successful counterattack, but Shan deflected the arrow flying toward him simply by lightly swinging his bow.

To him, who could knock away ordinary arrows from less than ten meters away, an arrow flying from forty or fifty meters away was no different from child’s play.

“No way…”

“Is that bastard insane?”

Seeing this, when the mercenaries halted as their fighting spirit was half broken, Shan drove his horse again, circling around them and unleashing shots.

A few of those shots were blocked by shields raised quickly, but naturally, not everyone could carry a large shield.

Those holding two-handed weapons hid behind the shield-bearers, trembling, before being pierced by arrows and dying with screams.

“Hold on! Reinforcements will be here soon!”

True to those words, before long, two horsemen from the main camp who had spotted their plight rode up hurriedly.

Although they were not skilled enough to fight freely atop a horse like knights, merely being able to ride a horse earned them wages several times higher than others.

“Captain!”

“Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright?! Don’t worry about me and get that bastard quickly! He’ll be incredibly annoying if we leave him alone!”

The mercenary captain bellowed furiously while wiping away the blood trickling from his cheek, which had been grazed by an arrow.

He was foul-tempered to begin with, but having been targeted by concentrated sniping had left his nerves on edge.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch up to a scrawny horse like that in no time! Let’s go!”

Shouting courageously, the horseman accelerated vigorously alongside his companion to pursue the enemy who had pulled far back.

As he said, the speed of the two horsemen was much faster than Shan’s.

It was only natural, as their horses were warhorses even if of poor quality, while the horse Shan rode was merely an ordinary riding horse suitable for travel.

However, that did not determine victory or defeat.

“Ugh!”

Neiiigh, with a sorrowful cry, one of the horsemen tumbled down from his mount.

This was because Shan, who had been fleeing from the two horsemen with his mount turned away, twisted his waist around and fired a shot, accurately hitting the horse’s head.

Lacking money, they could not equip their horses with expensive barding like knights could.

“No, what kind of madman…”

Watching from behind, the mercenary captain muttered with a stunned expression.

Turning his back to shoot a bow atop a horse galloping at full speed… was he some kind of Horais semi-horse archer?

Of course, whether the enemy was astonished or not, Shan shot his bow without hesitation, felling the second horseman’s mount as well.

Then, when he reached into his bag to nock another arrow, his hand caught nothing.

“Ah.”

It seemed the dozen or so arrows he had taken from the corpses earlier had already run out.

He realized once more that, talent aside, archery was not quite to his liking.

Especially things like the lack of a tactile sensation of impact, the difficulty of targeting heavily armored enemies, and having to manage arrow consumption.

In any case, if he lacked weapons, he could simply replenish them from the enemy.

Shan drove his horse back in the opposite direction, charging toward the horsemen who had fallen and were getting up.

One of the two had died with a broken neck from the fall, while the other managed to stand up limping, as if his leg was broken.

Shan’s target was the long spear the man was leaning on like a crutch.

“D-Don’t come near me…!”

Terrified, the horseman resisted by thrusting his spear forward, but Shan slightly turned his mount’s head aside to protect the horse and parried the spearhead precisely with the sword he was holding.

Then, grabbing the shaft below the parried spearhead with his empty left hand, he swept his sword downward and severed the man’s wrist.

After casually shaking off the dangling hand and grasping the spear, a fine lancer was completed in an instant.

He finished off the screaming horseman who had lost his weapon and hand by punching an air hole through his neck with the spear.

‘As expected, a spear is much better on horseback.’

Because the distance to his targets was inevitably greater, using a relatively short one-handed sword had been inconvenient.

As Shan secured a new weapon and charged once more, the mercenaries also tried to respond by forming their own formation in their own way.

Their thought was that, at least compared to horse archers, they had faced lancers far more often and that they were opponents worth fighting.

As if to show them that this was a delusion, Shan systematically devastated the enemy without yielding any distance to them, almost exasperatingly so.

Exercising horsemanship that he had gradually grown accustomed to, he controlled the horse’s movements properly with his legs and used both hands to thrust his spear unilaterally from beyond the reach of the enemy’s weapons.

“Gah…”

“Stab, stab with the spears!”

“Stab the horse, not the rider, you fools!”

“That guy is blocking everything!”

Those among the mercenaries holding long spears attempted to impale the horse, but every time, Shan parried away all their attacks and launched counterstrikes.

The spear, clearly made of straight and hard wood, flexed back and forth like a snake, piercing shields and weapons to tear through the mercenaries’ exposed flesh.

What was somewhat inconvenient was that his horse reacted sensitively whenever metal clashed nearby.

In truth, since it was not a trained warhorse to begin with, doing even this much was quite impressive.

Right around the time he plunged and pulled his spear out of a fifth enemy’s face, Shan slightly pulled back his mount and shifted his gaze.

It was because he felt a strange chill, just like when he had woken up during the goblin attack in the past.

‘That is…’

Before he realized it, all the soldiers from the barracks had deployed and were approaching him.

Judging by their armament, most seemed to be mercenaries, but there were also two moderately heavy-armored horsemen who looked like knights’ squires.

And leading them was a knight armed in full plate armor.

Unlike the others who moved relatively leisurely, he alone drove his mount at full speed, charging directly toward Shan.

‘Fast!’

Even though the knight’s horse bore a rider clad in full plate armor and wore barding itself, it moved far more nimbly than the horsemen’s warhorses from earlier.

Considering the speed difference, evasion was absolutely impossible.

“Hyah!”

Finishing his calculations in a brief instant, Shan instead spurred his horse toward the opponent.

He had instinctively realized that if he could not flee, it was better to accelerate and face the enemy head-on.

In mounted combat, the lesser evil was having a faster opponent catch your tail, while the absolute worst was standing still after losing speed to face a charging enemy.

‘Their spear is longer and heavier, so a frontal clash won’t work… I’ll have to parry inside the shaft and counterattack.’

Of course, doing so required absurd reflexes, but Shan had never felt lacking in such ability until now.

Amidst such thoughts, as he stared at his opponent’s weapon, he realized that for some reason, the pitch-black spear held by the knight looked familiar.

‘Ah.’

During the battle he had witnessed yesterday, of the four knights wearing red tassels, two had blocked the enemy’s attacks and fled, while one was struck by a spear, unhorsed, and captured alive by infantry.

And only the last one had died having his chest pierced right at the initial clash, and the color of that spear was indeed black like that.

Meaning he was the only expert among the knights with blue tassels skilled enough to slay an opponent in a single exchange.

Along with that realization, the image of the knight pulling back his spear to thrust appeared in slow motion.

From the back and shoulder muscles empowering his arm, to the pivoting joints, elbow, and wrist.

The muscles and joints of his entire body coordinated perfectly, generating power and transmitting it to the tip of the spear.

Unlike the faltering puppets he had always seen, it was a truly proper movement…

It was such an ideal thrust that Shan thought if he possessed a physique of that size, he would have moved in exactly that manner.

Barely receiving the attack that rushed in faster than expected, Shan realized that although he had accurately supported and lifted from beneath, his opponent’s spear did not budge in the slightest.

Instead, it effortlessly snapped the spear shaft Shan held tightly with both hands and thrust inward toward his chest.

Considering that the force exerted when holding a weapon weakens the further it is from the grip, and that thrusting force is vulnerable to side-pushing force, this was impossible no matter how monstrous someone’s strength was.

It was the result of a mighty will to pierce the opponent transforming into spirit momentum and distorting reality.

“Ugh…!”

In that moment of crisis, Shan released the tension in his legs that had been tightly gripping the horse’s body.

As his body was repelled by the recoil generated when the spear shaft snapped, the enemy spear narrowly grazed a long streak from his chest to his shoulder.

Then, just before falling off, he managed to hang onto the horse’s flank with one arm and leg before successfully remounting.

Fortunately, because the opponent had also carried momentum in the opposite direction, Shan was not immediately pursued.

‘I almost died…!’

Was it a mistake to inwardly look down on him after seeing him get surrounded by soldiers and fall foolishly the previous day?

Experiencing a threat to his life for the first time since holding a weapon, his brain felt as though it were melting with fear and excitement.

Even so, he did not feel that this was an opponent he could never defeat.

Because at the moment of impact, the opponent had clearly failed to react to Shan’s defensive technique or evasion.

The clash just now had merely been a matter of overpowering him with superior equipment and unexpected force.

Now that he knew the force loaded into the spear was beyond what could be contained, he could simply factor that into his calculations and formulate a strategy.

Yet for some reason, instead of charging back, the opponent raised a hand to halt his troop and slowly rode forward alone.

When the distance reached about thirty meters, the knight rested his spear on the saddle and removed his helmet, revealing a sharp, nervous-looking face that appeared to be in its mid-thirties.

Sharply slanted eyes scanned Shan as if evaluating him.

“…Young. I thought he was merely small of stature.”

The knight’s voice as he muttered to himself was low and gloomy.

As if not expecting any particular reply, he immediately followed by making his name known.

“I am Feonil of House Alten, a knight knighted by His Excellency Count Balik. And you?”

“Shan.”

As ever, that was the only word Shan possessed to define himself.

Unlike the bandit captain who had expressed displeasure at such a brief response in the past, the knight named Feonil responded by giving a soft snort of “Hm.”

“Whether you refuse to disclose your house’s name or are unable to disclose it… either way, it is none of my concern. Did you by any chance dedicate your spear to the banner of Duke of Morayen?”

Shan roughly gathered from context that he was asking if he was that Duke person’s subordinate, and shook his head.

If he had not held several conversations with Roden, he probably would have asked back what on earth that meant.

“No.”

“Were you hired by the City of Vito?”

“Not that either.”

“Then why did you attack our army, which was carrying out a blockade operation under the command of His Excellency the Count?”

“Because your men tried to harm my friends.”

At Shan’s blunt reply, the knight glanced back slightly and clicked his tongue with a tch.

A faint mutter of “Vulgar mercenaries are useless after all” could be heard.

“So that is how it is. I roughly understand.”

Shan had thought the knight would be enraged, asking if he dared attack over such a trivial matter, but unexpectedly, the opponent’s response was mild.

And the words that followed were even more surprising than expected.

“If so, how about we end the fighting here? Though the cause was provided by our side, the blood already spilled is not small, so I believe this is sufficient compensation.”

Could this be a strategy to set him at ease and launch a surprise attack?

Objectively, since the present situation was far more advantageous to the opposing side, there was no reason to stop fighting.

However, no matter how he looked at it, the opponent’s eyes looking at him were exceedingly serious.

Seeing Shan alternate his gaze between him and the army standing behind with a suspicious expression, Feonil added.

“However, there is one condition. You must not be hired by the City of Vito to oppose His Excellency the Count’s army. If you agree only to this, we shall treat this fight as if it never happened.”

“I was on my way to Pendia anyway.”

“Good. Then the negotiation is established. I swear in the name of the Goddess that I will not stop you from leaving.”

When Feonil, having put his helmet back on, turned his horse around and ordered a retreat, the soldiers who had poured out in a rush began to return to their encampment.

Shan could read bewilderment and dissatisfaction on their faces, but none among them dared to demand that the knight continue fighting.

Before leaving, Feonil left one last statement that was difficult to understand.

“I hope we can meet with smiles next time. If possible, riding side by side would be even better.”

Standing dazed for a brief moment as it did not feel real that the fight had ended so simply, Shan straightaway drove his horse back beneath the castle walls.

Surprisingly, Roden was standing off against people there, tightly gripping his flail.

Behind his back, the Altoan troupe hid with anxious expressions.

“What happened?”

At Shan’s question, those who had been glaring at Roden were startled and backed away far as if fleeing.

Only then did Roden turn his gaze, crying out in shock upon seeing Shan.

“Damn it, you’re badly hurt! Get down quickly!”

Hearing those words, Shan looked down to find his chest already stained crimson with blood.

It seemed quite a bit of bleeding had occurred from the spot grazed by the spear earlier.

“Ah, no wonder I felt a bit tired.”

Shan surrendered his body completely to Roden’s hands pulling him down from the horse.

Perhaps because his tension eased, his head spun in an instant and his vision blurred.

“I’ll apply medicine, so bear with it even if it hurts. I couldn’t see properly halfway through, but who on earth did you fight to end up like this?”

“He said his name was Feonil…”

When Shan muttered feebly, Roden let out a gagging khek sound as if something had caught in his throat.

“Don’t tell me, Feonil of the Black Spear? Damn it, if I had known such a big shot was there, I would have never sent you to fight.”

“Do you know him?”

“He’s the record holder for wins in the Libert jousting tournament. His name spreading all the way to Pendia says it all. He’s probably in the top three in this kingdom when it comes to jousting. I didn’t know he was a vassal of Count Balik.”

Hearing those words, Shan was able to smile even while feeling pain from the wound treated with medicine.

Because if a warrior of that caliber had been nobody, it would have been truly terrible.

An obstacle of that degree was well worth trying to overcome.

*

“Sir Feonil.”

Sipping wine lightly in his tent, Feonil Alten, chief knight to Count Balik, turned his head at the voice of his squire calling him.

Already from the expression alone, he could guess what the squire wanted to say.

“Are you dissatisfied that I did not kill that boy?”

“It is not that I dare express dissatisfaction… but the mercenaries are spouting off among themselves about needing to exact revenge as they see fit.”

“Desertion during operations is punishable by death. Inform them there are no exceptions. Having let them loose once only for them to cause an accident of this scale, they must bear it.”

In truth, in the squire’s view, this incident was closer to an unfortunate accident than a mistake by the mercenaries, but he could not dare contradict his master’s opinion.

Watching him quietly, Feonil muttered softly.

“Fighting to the end there, all we would have gained was the single corpse of a child.”

“By letting him live and go, we do not even gain that much.”

Because he let that kid go alive, the dissatisfaction of the mercenaries had grown.

Though they would not dare dream of rebellion under Feonil’s command, considering how important morale was in an army, the squire believed it would have been better to kill that brat and hang him up.

After a moment of silence passed, Feonil offered a lame excuse uncharacteristic of him.

“My honor was preserved. By forgiving rather than brutally killing a boy clad in worn leather armor, holding a stolen spear, and riding a mangy horse.”

If he cared about such honor, why on earth had he launched the initial attack in the first place?

The squire harbored discontent inwardly, but without talking back any further, he bowed his head and expressed obedience.

Waving his hand lightly to dismiss him, Feonil caressed the flank of the plate armor he was wearing.

There was a gouged mark left there by something sharp.

‘It’s definite; it wasn’t just a feeling.’

At the moment of the clash, Feonil had felt a dull pain in his flank at the same time the opponent he felt he had surely pierced passed by while sustaining only a light wound.

Remarkably, the boy had extended his broken spear and stabbed him the instant his body was thrown back by the cavalry charge.

Had the spear not broken and been longer, and had it been imbued with stronger force and spirit momentum, his armor would have been pierced.

It was a result produced by horrifying reflexes, agility, and combat intellect that even Feonil, who had fought countless enemies over fifteen years as a knight, had never seen before.

Judging that he might be injured if they clashed once more, Feonil had immediately checked the opponent’s affiliation and cleanly brought the battle to an end.

If he had been Duke of Morayen’s man, Feonil would have killed him somehow even by mobilizing the mercenaries, but if not, there was no reason to incur dishonor and risk unnecessarily.

All the more so considering that the armies of the two powerhouses were still clashing fiercely across the kingdom.

‘Still, it’s a pity.’

Opportunities to duel one-on-one with an opponent of comparable skill were not so common.

Especially so for those who had reached a domain like Feonil’s.

As a knight loyal to his master and simultaneously as an individual warrior, he could not help but look forward to crossing spears with him after he grew in the future.