Chapter 145: Chapter 145
It took about a week for Shan’s army to depart from Licharzo Island and reach Yezor Island.
Normally, they would have arrived sooner, but bad luck struck as they encountered a storm along the way, delaying them somewhat.
The storm raging in the Southern Sea in earnest was incredibly fierce.
For days after encountering the storm, no one dared step onto the deck, and because the ships pitched endlessly even inside the cabins, the soldiers threw up everything they had eaten.
Furthermore, the warhorses requisitioned from Licharzo Island and loaded onto the ships suffered greatly, and several ended up dying.
Shan realized once again why the Horais people were reluctant to put their finest warhorses on ships.
If anyone lost a famed steed like Arwin in such an absurd way, they would shed tears of blood.
“Storms influenced by the summer rainy season sometimes grow strong enough to pluck a ship right off the ocean and hurl it away. When that happens, no matter how skilled a sailor is, there is no choice but to pray to the Goddess.”
After the storm passed, Giznu expressed relief, saying they had managed to get through it quite smoothly considering the circumstances.
Although their voyage was delayed and a fair amount of supplies was lost, at least no lives were lost, so he deemed it a good outcome.
This was only possible because the Pendian fleet consisted solely of large warships, and there were many skilled sailors hailing from Beshalia.
Had they brought along the medium warships left behind on Licharzo Island, several would have fallen behind or sunk.
Hearing that if they had been truly unlucky and hit a genuinely powerful storm, half of this fleet might have vanished instantly, Shan realized anew just how dangerous a domain the sea was.
To someone like Shan, this place was far more dangerous than Pendia, a land teeming with monsters.
Ferocious monsters could easily be cut down with a sword, but there was truly no way to cope with something like this.
Thus, on the seventh day of their voyage, a vast land finally came into view in the distance.
To be precise, it was more accurate to say that a tall, elongated structure came into sight before the land itself.
“Is that the Tower of the Sage?”
“It’s tall…”
The giant lighthouse built at the northern port of Yezor Island, standing over a hundred meters tall, was one of the most mysterious and grand structures in the entire Southern Sea.
Some claimed it had been built using ancient architectural techniques lost with the fall of the Arman Empire, while others said that long ago, inhabitants of the Southern Continent built it when they came to pioneer this archipelago.
It was usually called the Tower of the Sage, where astrologers of the past once observed stars in the sky to divine the future.
And today, it served as a primary base where the mages of the Ruman Kingdom gathered, making it, so to speak, the ‘Magic Society’ of the Southern Sea.
A short while later, after carefully navigating past the reefs located beneath the giant lighthouse, the warships entered the front of the port.
Surprisingly, unlike the Duke of Licharzo, the King of Ruman had not burned the port.
Was it because he loathed to burn away property just to hinder a landing, or was it because he no longer retained enough control to execute such a drastic measure?
Whichever the case, they would find out soon enough.
“Land the troops!”
“Land!”
“Ugh, we’re finally disembarking…”
The Pendian army docked at the hazy, fog-shrouded port and disembarked in an orderly fashion.
The soldiers, haggard from suffering through the storm for the past few days, expressed joy at setting foot on solid ground after so long.
After first securing the perimeter of the deserted port, Shan immediately deployed cavalry to reconnoiter the surroundings.
Along with that, he had them inspect the Tower of the Sage in case of unforeseen dangers, and a short while later, soldiers drenched in sweat from climbing up and down the tall tower reported that no one was inside.
“Did everyone flee after all?”
“From atop that tower, they would have seen us coming even from tens of kilometers away.”
At Shan’s murmur, Ravana nodded and replied.
Since the cavalry who scouted the area also reported that there was truly not a single soul nearby, Shan first ordered preparations for encampment using nearby buildings, and then ascended the Tower of the Sage accompanied by a few guards.
This ancient tower, built at an unknown time and by unknown hands, was made of a smooth, seamless material resembling marble, and the ceilings were so high that extending an arm would not come close to reaching them.
Inside lay scattered various magical supplies, presumably left behind in their haste.
There were forty-eight floors in total, and the staircase wound along the edges in a spiral pattern that induced dizziness as one climbed.
As he climbed the structure, Shan felt a peculiar sense of déjà vu.
Although the style was somewhat different, he felt as though he had seen a building like this somewhere before.
A short while later, upon arriving at the top floor, he realized why he had felt that way.
“Aha.”
“Did you call, Your Highness?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Following his brief exclamation, the escorting soldier asked while panting heavily.
Even though they had walked somewhat slowly, he was dripping with sweat after climbing tens of floors while wearing armor of leather and mail.
After telling him to take off his helmet and rest a bit, Shan looked around the top floor.
The overall structure of this tower brought to mind the watchtower of Delepon, the mountain city in the Demonic Realm he had seen in the past.
Although it differed in that the interior was not hollow but composed of multiple floors, the open structure of the top level offering a panoramic view of the surroundings and the shape of the railings were remarkably similar.
And one more thing: the width and height of the stairs were identical to those over there.
It was as if stairs molded somewhere had simply been attached.
‘A structure similar to a building in the distant northeastern Demonic Realm…’
The reason the similarities between the two were unknown was likely because few people had climbed both the Magic Society located in the capital of the Ruman Kingdom and the watchtower of the mountain city in the Demonic Realm.
As for the height and width of the steps, no one without senses like Shan’s would have noticed them in the first place.
If so, was this tower also built by the ancient Altoans?
He thought Cheryn would find it an amusing story to hear in one way or another.
Organizing the story to tell her tonight in his mind, Shan scanned the surroundings using a magic viewing device to check for enemies.
Far off, tens of kilometers away, the fortress of the Ruman King came into view below.
*
Since the time of landing was quite late in the afternoon, they rested for a day before casually moving south.
Unexpectedly, every house seen while moving south was completely empty.
While he guessed that those living near the port had fled to avoid looting, it was somewhat strange for even the inland regions to be like this.
The reason became clear before long.
“The King of Ruman is gathering soldiers?”
“Yes, that’s right. I’ll tell you everything, so please just spare my life!”
En route to the Ruman King’s fortress located in the south, a limping old woman caught hiding in the thicket bowed her head and spoke.
Not long ago, rumors had spread here that along with the fall of Licharzo Island, the Pendian army engaged in a large-scale massacre.
They said that putting forward their Altoan savior to establish a New Altoan Empire, they castrated and killed all the men of Ruman, while raping the women to make them bear Altoan children.
The knights clicked their tongues upon hearing this.
“Ha.”
“Sounds like a familiar story.”
It was a rumor that conveniently blended the tales of the ‘Salvation Faction’ spread among Altoans with a past Altoan rebellion on an island of Ruman.
Moreover, since the Pendian army had indeed built notoriety by repeatedly committing ruthless massacres (even if restricted only to pirate affiliates) the story was believable enough to take hold.
Because of this, everyone who owned a boat fled the island, while those who could not were gathering under the name of the royal family.
Proclaiming that the King of Ruman would not abandon his people, he was gathering men, women, young, and old alike as soldiers, asserting that if everyone united to fight, they could repel the enemy.
“Then why didn’t you gather at the royal castle?”
“As you can see, I am old and lame, so I was abandoned, told that I couldn’t keep up…”
As she spoke while gauging his reaction, she seemed fearful that the rumors might truly be real.
Shan nodded and ordered the soldiers to let the old woman go.
“It seems he is making a final desperate struggle.”
“If he’s going to do that, fleeing would be better.”
“Since the royal family is finished the moment they flee Yezor Island anyway, he’s trying to make one last struggle.”
When another knight grumbled at Shan’s words, Ravana shook her head and replied.
What good would it do for the Ruman royal family, whose prestige had already fallen as low as possible, to flee from their home island?
At best, they would wander as pirate warlords commanding a few hundred men before being subjugated.
Of course, while there were cases like Duke of Morayen who abandoned their foundation and fled only to make a successful return, no matter how one thought about it, it was hard to consider the current King and Prince of Ruman to be such grand figures.
Thus, he would rather conscript all the islanders who failed to flee and fight a pitched battle, seeking a stroke of luck somehow.
Because fighting in an open plain favored the side with superior numbers.
Of course, the fact that conscripts created this way held little military value had already been proven during the past Pendian civil war.
The larger the size, the more sluggish the army became and the more pressing food issues grew, but fundamentally, such an army collapsed in an instant after sustaining even minor damage.
However, if there was a separate reason why they absolutely had to hold out, the story would be a bit different.
Perhaps the King of Ruman sought to fulfill this condition using distorted rumors about Shan and the Pendian army.
“If he gets absurdly lucky and manages to kill or capture the Lord Protector, at least some possibility arises. The odds are ridiculously low, but it’s better than doing nothing.”
Deep contempt surfaced on Ravana’s face as she spoke mockingly.
While the idea itself was understandable, throwing away his subjects’ lives using slim means just to hold onto his power by any means necessary was sickening.
After marching for about another hour, Shan clicked his tongue as he watched the army marching across the vast plain.
“He really gathered a lot…”
Was it thirty thousand, or perhaps forty thousand?
Having heard that the usual population of Yezor Island exceeded a hundred thousand, it seemed he had scraped together nearly everyone who failed to flee by ship.
The enormous number, over ten times their own force, was indeed formidable, but feeling intimidated while looking at the people before his eyes was difficult.
Old people with faces full of wrinkles, greenhorns who probably hadn’t grown hair below their waists yet, and even women.
Unfit for fighting at a glance, even their equipment was low quality in the extreme.
Fewer than one in ten held proper spears or swords, even rusted ones, or wore chainmail, while most were dressed in cloth garments and armed with canes, farm tools, and the like.
At the very least, even Duke of Morayen had provided a spear with an iron tip for each of the conscripts he forcibly gathered.
On their faces lay no desire to battle, filled only with the fear and despair unique to people forced out against their will.
Looking at the scene, Shan muttered to himself before he realized it.
“In the past, the Southerners used magic that caused confusion; if used over there right now, it would be quite a sight.”
“Indeed.”
A knight who had participated in the battle on the plains south of Hasra in the past nodded in agreement.
At the time, the southern mages following Elvin used bizarre and powerful magic that drove the conscripts gathered by Duke of Morayen into a frenzy, nearly crushing them.
Later, Cheryn surmised that it was made possible thanks to the night hag Yure providing part of her body, such as her blood, as a medium.
For it was a magic so powerful that it would have been utterly impossible otherwise.
Of course, the Pendian army did not need such miracles to crush them.
“Advance.”
“Advance!”
With the command, the Pendian army slowly advanced.
Shan took his place at the head of the formation alongside twenty-some knights.
Despite reaching a distance where arrows would normally come flying, not a single arrow flew toward them.
It was probably because most who knew how to shoot a bow had died or been captured on Licharzo Island.
“Th-They’re coming.”
“Don’t push!”
At the sight of the knights approaching at a leisurely pace, the faces of the Ruman conscripts opposite them turned pale.
Shan gave the order as he watched the scene.
“Charge!”
Couching ‘Heartbreaker’, which he had not used in a long time… under his arm upon the command, Shan charged at the forefront.
Not plunging into the enemy lines alone as before, but accompanied by the knights behind him.
The sound of horse hooves echoed across the plain.
“Long live Her Majesty the Queen!”
“Everlasting be Pendia!”
“Aaaaaagh!”
As Pendia’s knights charged with battle cries to rouse themselves and intimidate the enemy, the enemy soldiers standing in the front ranks turned pale and parted to the left and right.
Even trained soldiers armed with long spears often froze in terror at the sight of charging knights, so there was no way hastily gathered conscripts could stop them.
Evading the charge of the knights in a wedge formation, the conscripts falling to the left and right crushed and trampled one another.
Into the space created that way, Pendia’s infantry advanced.
“Thrust!”
“Aaaaah!”
Thrust fiercely over the shield wall along with shouted of effort, long spears mercilessly tore the conscripts apart.
A few valiant individuals among them dodged and attempted to counterattack, but the armor of the Pendian infantry could not be breached by pitchforks and the like.
“Damn it, this feels awful.”
A Pendian soldier grimacing from blood trickling down his helmet muttered.
Unlike typical battlefields where low, thick screams echoed, shrill and high-pitched screams of women and children could be heard frequently here.
The sensation of unilaterally slaughtering powerless people was hardly pleasant.
Had these people not been of the pirate bloodlines of Ruman, it would have felt even worse.
Before long, realizing that they were effectively beating against a rock with their bare hands, the conscripts began fleeing while screaming.
At this, elite men-at-arms and knights acting as focal points shouted from various locations.
“Do not flee!”
“Those Altoans will slaughter and violate your families!”
“Strike the horses’ legs! Just knock them down!”
However, those who made themselves conspicuous that way soon received a visit from Pendia’s knights.
Standing at the point of the wedge, Shan guided the knights and picked them off one by one.
Instead of rushing in alone, he assigned several knights to attack specific targets, and scanned the surroundings to assist those who appeared to be in danger.
That was precisely what he needed to do not merely as a mighty warrior, but as a shock commander and leader.
Thanks to that, the Ruman Kingdom’s final trump card (a surprise attack by three disguised royal knights intended for when he charged alone) was neutralized by the knights escorting him before ever reaching Shan.
Of course, even if Shan had truly charged alone, they would not have succeeded in their surprise attack.
As the few elite troops were hunted down in that manner, the conscripts finally lost all courage and collapsed en masse.
*
The clash of forty thousand against four thousand ended with the four-thousand side suffering seven wounded, while the forty-thousand side had over a thousand dead and the rest fleeing.
Among those taken prisoner were several nobles of the capital.
Despite standing out in quite luxurious equipment, they did not know how to fight properly, making them easy to capture.
Since even the soldiers tasked with guarding the royal palace had been dragged out, there was no need to wage a siege.
All it took was a few soldiers scaling ladders and turning pulleys to lower the castle gates to enter.
Moreover, because the King of Ruman sent even the maidservants and cooks to fight, there was truly no one left inside.
A soldier arriving to report the defeat, trapped with nowhere to go, was caught by Pendian soldiers and revealed the King’s location.
“Is this man King Leor of Ruman?”
“Th-That’s right, Your Highness.”
At Shan’s question, the messenger nodded.
Leor Deon Basa Kalun.
The head of the Kalun royal family ruling the Ruman Kingdom was an old man with a thick white beard.
Other characteristics besides his appearance were difficult to discern, for he lay dead after drinking poison.
Leaning slantwise with eyes closed upon the throne crafted from carved and joined giant jade, where only the monarch of the Southern Sea could sit, his figure looked quite solemn.
He might have felt that way had he not crammed tens of thousands of his subjects onto the battlefield at the very end.
Between the Marquis of Beshalia he had seen previously and this, Shan wondered if rulers living by the sea had a habit of committing suicide whenever things went slightly awry.
Staring silently at the sight, Shan kicked the King’s corpse aside to clear it, then drew the sword at his waist and swung it.
With a heavy thud, the jade throne split into two pieces.
It was a sight heralding the end of the Kalun royal family, which had endured for five hundred years since the fall of the Arman Empire.