Chapter 102: Chapter 102

As the battle reached its final stage, most of the archers atop the mountain were looking down in absolute awe.

This was because the presence radiated by the lone knight slaughtering enemies on the plain was far too overwhelming.

While tales of a knight felling dozens of men in a single battle were usually passed down for generations, what was happening down there was on an entirely different scale.

Just how many people had he dispatched all by himself?

Two hundred? Three hundred? No, even more than that?

Today’s battle was certain to become a legend that would remain forever in Pendia’s history.

Before long, the New Faith army atop the mountain charged down, completely shattering the battle lines of the Old Faith army.

In particular, the ‘Black Army’, armored in hydra leather armor and the most elite unit under Cheryn… stood at the forefront.

A chaotic rout began, far removed from an orderly retreat, as soldiers simply ran for their lives without even knowing where to flee.

Ranta, who had been quietly watching the scene from atop the mountain, widened his eyes and shouted.

“Damn it! You sheep-herding bastards, bring me my horse quickly!”

His subordinate semi-horse archers looked at him with expressions asking what he meant.

“Huh? Why all of a sudden…?”

“Over there in the distance, do you see him? The bald guy wearing a crown!”

“Ah, yes. I see him.”

“That’s Conrad! The enemy commander!”

It was a distance of well over four hundred meters, where to ordinary people he would look like nothing more than a tiny dot.

However, to the eyes of those who had lived their entire lives on the great steppe, it was clearly visible.

The sight of Conrad on horseback fleeing south alongside a dozen or so escorts.

“If we ride now, we can catch him! We’ll be making the greatest contribution!”

At the mention of the greatest contribution, one of the semi-horse archers turned his head and looked down the mountain.

Seeing Shan literally grinding down the enemies, Ranta quickly changed his words.

“…Let’s make the second greatest contribution!”

“Ohhh!”

“Wait, Commander Ranta! We should speak to the commander first…”

“Where is the time for that! If it’s not now, we’ll lose him!”

As the open space where they had tethered their horses was right behind where the archers stood, mounting up did not take long.

A moment later, about two hundred semi-horse archers galloped straight down the mountain under Ranta’s command.

“Out of the way!”

“Huh!?”

Ranta, at the lead, forced open a path by shouting at the infantrymen who were running about trying to catch up with the breaking enemy.

Ignoring the tempting enemies who showed their backs, they pursued Conrad, who was fleeing south with the utmost speed.

About twenty minutes after that.

The semi-horse archers succeeded in catching up to the fleeing Conrad and his escorts after riding until their horses poured frothy sweat from their bodies.

It was possible because not only did they possess outstanding horsemanship and tracking skills, but their horses were also relatively small and had good endurance.

“Those guys are…?”

“They’re the bandit bastards commanded by the witch! How are they already here!”

Conrad’s escorts, astonished by the appearance of the semi-horse archers, tried to shake them off somehow, but it was to no avail.

This was because only those mounted on horseback had joined to flee quickly, making their numbers a mere twenty or so, among whom only two were knights.

“Don’t kill him!”

“Shoot the horses!”

Under the shower of arrows pouring from all sides, Conrad’s escorts fell from their horses one after another.

Since most of them were nobles and their retainers who were not properly trained, a considerable number broke their necks and died or were crushed all over after being trampled by following horses.

Terrified by this, some brought their horses to a stop and jumped down.

“I surrender! I surrender! Don’t kill me! I am Count of Ronsh!”

“Seize them!”

Ranta instructed his following subordinates to capture those who had fallen from their horses and those who surrendered, then persistently pursued Conrad.

Before long, Conrad, whose horse was struck by an arrow, fell from his mount, took a break-fall reasonably skillfully, and drew his sword.

He, too, was someone who had practiced martial arts quite a bit, though not to the level of a knight.

“You bastards! How dare mere bandits of Horais try to touch a prince of Pendia… ghk!”

“What is he rambling about?”

Of course, even so, he had no way to withstand a lasso being suddenly looped around his neck from behind and pulled.

Soon, with his arms and legs bound tightly by lassos flying in from all directions, Conrad was helplessly captured.

*

“…That is how it went.”

“Is that so.”

At the entrance of Mount Aman, Cheryn nodded at the report from Ranta, who had dragged Conrad over.

If even a tenth of their original force (about a thousand men) had gathered and reorganized after retreating, it would have been difficult for two hundred horse archers to capture him.

It was truly a feat worthy of being called the result of wild, instinctual judgment.

“You left the unit without instructions from the commander. Thanks to that, Roden was complaining that he couldn’t pursue the nobles of the Ajun Kingdom.”

“I have no excuse. We were merely…”

“Indeed. At any rate, the result was good. Since you succeeded in capturing the more important Conrad. First of all, I will generously reward this matter.”

“Ohhh… Praise be to you, Mistress!”

“I shall return all the arrowheads that were originally scheduled to be given one per year. Conrad’s carcass is worth that much.”

Of course, since those were currently stored in Palles’s vault, the bestowal itself would only be possible after some time passed.

After promising several more generous rewards, Cheryn, having sent the awestruck semi-horse archers off to handle the aftermath, looked at Conrad.

Cool hostility pooled in her sharply raised reddish-brown eyes.

“Now then, shall we talk amongst ourselves for a moment, Conrad?”

The appearance of Conrad, who had been bound in ropes and dragged over, was miserable.

Covered in blood and thick dust, he looked even older because even the crown he had worn to hide his bald head was stripped away.

“Despicable witch bitch.”

Even while captured, Conrad, whose spirit alone had not died, looked up at Cheryn and muttered a curse.

At that sight, Cheryn let out a soft sigh, saying “Ha.”

“I have no desire to engage in useless debate with a loser. Will you surrender? If so, I can guarantee a decent place of exile in a remote corner.”

Recalling how he had brought in all kinds of foreign forces, from Duke of Morayen to the Ajun Kingdom, and caused such immense sacrifices, tearing him to death immediately would not even feel satisfying.

However, the problem was that Conrad and Cheryn ultimately shared the same father.

In Pendia, kin-slaying was regarded as extremely negative.

As could be seen from how Gizel III, who was suspected of assassinating his brother and nephew, spent his youth dealing with civil war and suppressing rebellions.

If she were to execute Conrad, Cheryn would likely have to live with an irremovable stigma throughout her reign.

“Are you telling me to throw Pendia into the hands of devils right now?”

“What devils… Really, it’s tiresome. You haven’t changed a bit since you were young. This is why home education is important.”

At Conrad’s grit-toothed attitude, Cheryn shook her head with an incredulous expression.

Striding closer, she pulled her half-brother’s sideburns and spoke in a threatening tone.

“Even if I cannot execute you, I can make the words ‘I want to die’ come out of your mouth. The same goes for your wife and children. I know a great deal of such drugs, you see? Choose. Will you all suffer until the day you die just to save your petty pride, or will you spend your old age in a comfortable place?”

The moment he saw the gaze of his half-sister looking down at him, Conrad intuitively felt that she would truly do so.

Finally, he lowered his eyes.

As a prince of Pendia and a devout Old Faith believer, to be intimidated by a mere woman was a terribly humiliating thing.

He spoke in a voice like a dying beast.

“I… surrender…”

“You should have done so sooner. Lock him up. Guard him thoroughly so he can never escape.”

“Understood!”

Conrad was dragged away by the soldiers with a helpless expression.

Just then, upon seeing Shan, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Shan Barendil.”

“Speak.”

Despite it being a considerably disrespectful response for dealing with a prince of a kingdom, Conrad did not call it out.

Hesitating for a moment, he opened his mouth.

“How did… Theo die?”

Pondering for a moment, Shan recalled that it was the name of the knight he had fought just a while ago.

Marquis Abel, Theo Grant.

It was a name he had never heard from the man’s own mouth.

“He was knightly.”

“Is that so.”

The prince, who had asked how his brother-in-law and strongest knight met his end, soon disappeared with his head hung low.

For hours after that, Cheryn’s army had to dedicate themselves to cleaning up.

Recovering the corpses of allies, collecting spoils from enemy soldiers who possessed useful items, and sorting the captured remnants.

Shan, too, came to collect several items from the knights he had slain.

Things such as the longsword ‘Red Pledge’, a treasure of the Pendian royal family held by Marquis Abel, as well as various holy relics of the paladins.

In the process, he learned an unexpected fact.

“Duke Ramis died?”

“Yes. It seems he charged directly toward Sir Shan himself.”

“Aha.”

It appeared that during the battle, Duke Ramis, the commander of the Ajun Kingdom, had flown into a rage upon seeing Shan (the enemy of his child) charging in, and had personally ridden forward holding a spear.

Though he had practiced martial arts reasonably well as expected of an Ajun noble, before Shan he was no different from ordinary soldiers, so he ended up tumbling as just another corpse until he was discovered by the soldiers.

Thanks to his flamboyant attire as a noble, he was not processed as missing, so perhaps that was a fortunate thing.

In contrast, the deputy commander, Count Glusa (the youngest brother of the King of Ajun) had fled nimbly as soon as he sensed defeat.

It was highly likely that he would rally the fled soldiers of the Ajun Kingdom in the future.

After the cleanup was somewhat finished, Roden reported this to Cheryn and spoke.

“Patrolling the nearby area and sweeping up the remnants would be better, but regretfully, we do not have that much time.”

“Indeed. Even now, Elvin must be sweeping through the eastern region. It’s fortunate that we captured Conrad at least.”

If they had lost Conrad this time, their backs would have been itching continuously even while fighting against Elvin.

For merely rallying the remnants would amount to thousands in number, and there was no telling what acts he might commit, such as reaching out to foreign nations again.

Feeling as though a heavy burden had been put down, Cheryn let out a soft sigh.

*

The next day was just as busy as before.

More than anything, because they had to dig over hundreds of graves and bury the corpses.

As it was an urgent situation, the funerals were held in a simplified manner, but they were not conducted insincerely.

Cheryn clearly understood that combat effectiveness varied depending on whether soldiers assigned meaning to their deaths or not.

“Pendal of Elos, son of the farmer Kun. Aimak of Shedil, son of the blacksmith Ragun…”

When the princess recited the names of mere commoner soldiers one by one and said she would remember their deaths, a few choked back tears.

In contrast, the deceased soldiers of Conrad’s side and the soldiers of Ajun were simply discarded roughly on one side of the field.

A pack of goblins that arrived from somewhere ravenously devoured the corpses.

Though knights and nobles were given rough funerals due to their status, this, too, was conducted in a far less sincere manner compared to their own allies.

After praying at Yurk’s grave, Shan stopped by the crudely made grave of Marquis Abel and was surprised to see Lug standing before it.

“Sir Lug. How is your arm?”

“Ah, as you can see… it seems I’ll be able to use it in about three days. Priest Asha’s skill is so remarkable.”

Lug waved the arm that had once been severed and reattached, then let out a small groan, “Ugh.”

It did not seem as though he could move his fingers or wrist yet, as if it was not properly connected yet.

“More importantly, why are you here…?”

“It just doesn’t feel real. That it ended in this manner.”

Shan briefly worried whether he might kick and break the marquis’s grave, but Lug merely let out a deep sigh with eyes calmer than expected.

“Thank you, Sir Shan. For taking revenge in my stead.”

“It was thanks to you, Sir Lug.”

What would have happened if Lug had not faced Marquis Abel first and bought time?

Allied knights would have been injured or killed that much more, and he would have been double-teamed by remaining enemy knights.

Although he had overwhelmed Marquis Abel, it was uncertain whether he could have done so while also being pincer-attacked by other knights.

Hearing the words, Lug chuckled softly and spoke.

“Then I suppose I did lend a hand in the revenge after all.”

Saying that he could finally put his mind at ease now, the lanky knight shrugged his shoulders and looked up at the sky.

The next day, Cheryn’s army, having finally finished reorganization to some extent, divided into two branches first.

First, about five hundred soldiers split off separately from the force.

They took on the role of escorting prisoners including Conrad, as well as those whose injuries were severe enough to make accompanying them right now difficult, back to the stronghold.

Five hundred soldiers armed with magic tools were more than capable of managing around three thousand unarmed men.

Because of that, Cheryn’s army, now reduced to about two thousand five hundred men, began moving quickly back along the path they had come.

Since there were still many who were injured to varying degrees, they moved at a slightly leisurely pace rather than a forced march for a few days.

Unexpected news arrived from the soldiers left behind in Garn City to the south.

“Elvin marched his forces back to Hasra?”

“Yes. He besieged a few cities in the eastern and western regions but did not attack them in earnest, and after hearing of the battle at Mount Aman and its outcome, he withdrew his forces.”

“So that is how it is.”

At her opponent’s fairly nimble movement, Cheryn clicked her tongue softly.

If the bastard had thoughtlessly targeted both sides simultaneously, they could have defeated them piecemeal without suffering major damage.

Afterward, arriving at Garn Castle, they spent several weeks waiting for the enemy to march out, but Elvin holed himself up in Hasra and did not move.

It seemed he had grown terrified upon seeing the allied forces of Conrad and the Ajun Kingdom collapse one-sidedly.

Thanks to that, Cheryn’s army also ended up in a state of limbo.

For assaulting Hasra, which was defended by an enemy force several times their size, was simply unrealistic.

“Speak your opinions on what we should do now.”

A strategy meeting.

The nobles and knights gathered in their seats exchanged glanced.

“Wouldn’t it be best to mop up the remnants scattered in the northwestern area first?”

“That is correct. If those Ajun bastards roam about in packs and begin plundering, it will be hard to handle…”

“It would be better to launch a full-scale assault on the western region.”

The one who offered a different opinion alone was none other than Roden.

When he opened his mouth, all the others fell silent to express their respect.

“The western region?”

“Yes. Since it is a place that has already lost its focal point in Conrad, we must quickly extend our reach to prevent it from being absorbed by Elvin if left alone. The remnants in the northwest will have no choice but to starve to death or surrender once we control the north and west completely.”

Although it had declined significantly due to the civil war, the western region was originally the most prosperous region in Pendia.

This was because it was relatively far from the Demonic Realm, so the number and danger of monsters were small, and it was convenient to trade with the neighboring country of Libert.

Gaining control of such a region meant becoming able to utilize abundant resources and manpower.

Thus, Roden’s opinion was that it would be better to take over the western region following the north and east, and encircle the central and southern regions including Hasra.

As it happened, Cheryn was holding Conrad as well as high-ranking western nobles and their sons who had followed him as captives.

It would not be difficult to secure control by holding their lives hostage.

Furthermore, since the western region was close to Hasra, they could notice and respond relatively quickly when Elvin began to move again.

Cheryn nodded at the coherent explanation.

“Good. Let us do so.”

After the policy was set, Cheryn’s army secured supplies at Garn Castle and advanced straight to the west.

At the majesty of the army advancing with Hasra flanked to the south, passing peddlers and armed mercenaries flinched in surprise and backed away.

Unsurprisingly, the cities of the western region were thrown into an uproar at their visit without exception.

“The host of fiends is coming!”

“They say the witch princess and the army of devils suck the blood of children and boil adults into stew!”

In the eyes of the people of western Pendia, where Old Faith believers were relatively numerous, Cheryn’s army was truly like an army of hell coming from the deep depths of the Demonic Realm.

Following a mage princess, mostly armed with magic tools, and one third of their numbers being Altoans.

Where in the world could a more profane army exist than this?

Fortunately, even while such fear spread, there was no need to wage a siege or the like to open cities that had bolted their gates.

This was because they had already obtained precious items engraved with family crests or handwritten letters from the captives in advance to secure promises of surrender.

“Mmm…”

“As you can see, this is the seal representing the master of House Emish. Your master has declared surrender, so there should be no need for his vassals to raise their blades. What will you do?”

“We shall open the gates.”

In this manner, Cheryn was able to travel through each city and manor in the western region fairly smoothly, receiving surrenders.

In the process, Shan felt that an exceptionally deep fear dwelt in the eyes of the people looking at him.

Once, while visiting a castle upon a lord’s invitation, a servant who saw him even fell backward and wet his pants.

Before long, he came to learn the reason as he listened to some soldiers who had stopped by a city tavern humming a song.

“Heroes gathered beneath the pitch-black mountain, holding gleaming swords and spears, they shouted. They swore to slay the devil! Oh, there stands one alone. Blood-red armor and green eyes boiling like deadly poison, with every step the earth trembles and as he raises his sword the sun flees.

Heroes charging bravely forward, a single swing of his sword and a rain of blood pours down. Lost souls head toward the Goddess…”

The soldiers, who had been excitedly clapping to the beat, gasped in surprise upon seeing Shan standing quietly listening to them, and shut their mouths.

“What song is that?”

“Th-That is…”

One of the hesitating soldiers informed him that it was a song spreading in the western region.

The content depicted Shan and the western soldiers who fought against him.

“A song about me is spreading in the western region?”

“Yes. It seems there happened to be a famous bard who watched the battle of Mount Aman, and I heard that the song he made is spreading widely. It wasn’t meant to insult my lord, but since it’s catchy to sing along to, we just…”

In the bard’s song, Shan was truly a bringer of doom and a knight born from the deepest depths of the hellpit.

A devilish existence that cut down over a thousand enemies alone, whom neither paladins blessed by the Goddess nor Marquis Abel, praised as the greatest knight in the kingdom, could block.

Perhaps because the armor dyed red from being covered in blood had left a deep impression, the title of the song was ‘The Red Knight of the Black Mountain’.

Of course, such songs were bound to contain exaggeration, but this time the story was a bit different.

Because western remnants who survived the battle had dragged their exhausted bodies back to their homelands and testified that its contents were indeed true.

This song also played a major role in the western lords accepting them obediently.

Because no one wanted to see a devil knight who cut down a thousand men all by himself scale their castle walls in the middle of the night.

“Have you arrived, Sir Shan, the legendary knight who cut down a thousand men in a single battle?”

“What thousand men.”

When Roden bantered after hearing the story, Shan burst into a dry laugh and shook his head.

Green-Eyed Knight, Devil of Alto, Wall Climber, Red Knight, Slayer of a Thousand.

Just what nickname would come next in the future?

In Obilos, a small city along their tour, he was able to face a familiar face for the first time in a long while.

“It has been a while, Mr. Poave.”

“How could the count’s heir… Please lower your speech. I can hardly bear it.”

Poave, the jeweler who was Callion’s subordinate, Shan’s benefactor, and an informant for Cheryn’s faction, bowed his head with an awestruck expression.

Perhaps due to hard times, he had grown considerably thinner compared to when Shan first saw him.

The citizens of Obilos showed complicated reactions to the fact that the boy who had hunted the troll that appeared in their city had returned as a tremendous hero, or villain.

Walking along the street, he was able to reminisce about old memories.

The next day, Cheryn decided to place Poave in the position of mayor through agreement with the city council.

The mayor of a free city loyal to the king was a position equivalent to a lord without succession rights.

It would be more than sufficient reward for his hard work during that time.

As a bonus, it would also serve the role of projecting Cheryn’s influence into the western region.

Sweeping through the western region like that, Cheryn’s army finally reached its final destination.

It was none other than the domain directly ruled by Duke of Ranpel, the grand feudal lord of the west, Conrad’s maternal grandfather, and his greatest supporter.