Chapter 85: Chapter 85

The raw recruits, who had fought in a deadly bloodbath for the first time, keenly realized what the veterans meant when they said one’s brain would go completely blank.

It was a living hell, so filled with shouted and screams that even the voice of the person right next to them could not be heard.

All they could feel was the touch of comrades standing shoulder-to-shoulder with them and the enemy glaring right before their eyes.

Every time they slashed and stabbed the enemy with spears and swords while desperately protecting their faces with shields, arms and legs flew through the air like toys, and the metallic stench of blood along with the foul odor of filth spilling from entrails filled the insides of their nostrils.

War was a completely different kind of fight from the monster hunts they had experienced before.

“Fall back, you bastard! Fall back!”

“Keep shoulder-to-shoulder!”

Fortunately, amidst all that, what served as a guidepost for them was thanks to the veterans who had relatively kept their sanity.

Slapping the cheeks of frantic recruits, they restrained those who charged out recklessly or stood frozen in shock, and commanded them to form ranks according to higher-up orders.

As a result, though they did not quite understand why, they achieved overwhelming battle results.

This was evident from how hard it was to find their own comrades among the hundreds of corpses scattered across the field.

The only relief was that the black hydra leather armor stood out so prominently.

“So Mr. Jeres died here.”

“Let’s see, coat is intact, pants are here, shoes are here, and shield and spear… are lying over there.”

“That’s a relief. Earlier, Shupe struggled because his spear went missing.”

“This shield is broken anyway, so we can’t use it. Let’s just pull out the mana stone.”

Unlike the recruits who shed tears upon seeing their comrades’ deaths, the veterans gathered the bodies relatively composedly.

Especially for the Altoans from the capital, losing a comrade was not as unfamiliar as one might think.

Knife fights in the slums were no less dangerous than war, after all.

“Oh, this guy’s bracelet is pretty decent, isn’t it?”

“His clothes are torn, but they look fairly neat. Could he be a noble? If he had surrendered, he would have lived. Why did he die?”

“Where would anyone have the presence of mind to surrender in the middle of battle?”

Meanwhile, those who were not assigned to retrieve their comrades’ bodies searched the enemy corpses for anything useful before discarding the bodies.

In Pendia, the land of monsters, there was no need to worry about rotting bodies spreading disease or anything of the sort.

The creatures prowling around the battlefield would stealthily approach and devour everything, taking care of the cleanup.

“Ah, wait. Bring that corpse too.”

“Why?”

“It’s an order. We were told to bring some enemy corpses too and hold a funeral.”

“What a pain.”

Among the spoils obtained in this manner, clothing was sent to the rear along with what had originally been worn.

“Ugh, seriously, once blood gets into these clothes, it never comes out.”

“Isn’t that why you’re getting paid to work, Ma’am?”

“Are you paying my wage? Where do you get off putting on airs!”

“Gosh, what a temper.”

By the stream beside the battlefield, a soldier standing with a spear gripped tightly chuckled and spoke in response to the complaints of a washerwoman who was hard at work laundering.

In this way, there were about thirty women accompanying the Palles army, assisting with non-combat tasks.

As family members of soldiers or mercenaries, they assisted with everything from laundry and sewing to cooking, as well as helping the priests treat the soldiers.

“Argh…”

“Hang in there, the priest is exhausted right now.”

“My wrist… it will be reattached, right?”

“Of course. They say the princess promised that if we just find it, she will definitely have it reattached.”

“Thank goodness…”

The soldier lying on a makeshift cot with a missing wrist shed tears mixed with pain and relief.

In this manner, those waging war had to work tirelessly even between battles.

*

While the soldiers below did their work, the superiors were also busy moving about in their own way.

“No, we don’t have the capacity for that.”

“I heard your unit suffered the fewest casualties.”

“Over a hundred of our men died too. More than one-tenth of our available forces were wiped out.”

A military council formed by the leaders of each faction gathering together.

Cheryn rejected Conrad’s demand to form a pursuit force to chase and harass the retreating enemy.

“…My army alone has over six hundred dead. Duke of Morayen’s soldiers also had over three hundred killed.”

“That’s because you just inflated your numbers with conscripts. Ten of my soldiers’ lives are worth more than a hundred of yours.”

Conrad’s face distorted malevolently, but Cheryn paid him no mind, trimming her nails and pretending to ignore him.

Had he followed his temper, he would have immediately slapped her to fix her attitude, but with a green-eyed knight standing right behind her, that was out of the question.

Watching the scene from behind, Shan whispered to the spider clinging to his chest armor.

“…Even so, isn’t inflating it by a hundred men too much? I feel like we’ll get caught.”

[It’s not like they’re going to count them anyway, so what does it matter?]

In truth, the damage suffered by Cheryn’s army was a mere 57 injured and 19 dead.

Even among those, a considerable portion belonged to the forces of Viscount of Treba or the barons, whose equipment was relatively poor.

The actual dead among Cheryn’s direct heavy infantry who fought at the forefront numbered only eight.

Considering that the enemy infantry they killed numbered at least three to four hundred, and the mounted archers captured as prisoners reached two hundred, it was truly an absurd kill-to-loss ratio.

The first reason for not openly revealing this was naturally to avoid taking on the extra chore of a pursuit battle, and the second reason was to avoid being kept in check by Conrad and Duke of Morayen.

Because if they realized that an army equipped with mass-produced magic gear displayed such overwhelming power, they might conclude that they needed to eliminate them even before Elvin.

Fortunately, unless someone secretly stole their military ledgers, there was no way to accurately know how many had actually died.

To this end, they had deliberately brought back enemy corpses that would originally have been discarded to perform summary funerals, so at a glance, it was understandable for others to mistake that around a hundred men had died.

“Well, then we can decide on pursuit later… Is there anything you can advise regarding the magical attack our side suffered this time, Princess? I have heard much of the rumor that you are Pendia’s finest mage.”

“Since I didn’t witness it directly and only heard about it through accounts, it’s hard to be certain, but it’s likely a type of magic that maximizes hostility. It’s too large-scale to be cast solely with dances and incantations, so they might have pre-dispersed a substance that serves as a catalyst in gaseous form for the troops to inhale.”

“Hmm, indeed.”

“Even taking that into account, it is an enormous magic. They likely used an extremely rare and powerful catalyst, so it won’t be easy to use multiple times.”

Cheryn nonchalantly answered Duke of Morayen’s question and shifted the topic.

What he had asked about was the unidentified magic that had suddenly sparked internal strife within his own army.

“Hostility, huh…”

“Only those conscripted within Pendia suffered problems, right? Then it’s obvious. Mental magic that draws out latent hostility exists even in Pendia. Though none can be cast on such a powerful and large scale.”

After occupying northwestern Pendia, Duke of Morayen forcibly drafted anyone nearby who could serve as a soldier.

The method to bind those drafted together was, naturally, severe beatings and strict discipline.

Since he had forcefully bound them by instilling fear through executing a few as examples, it was only natural that once the fear blurred and hostility grew stronger due to drugs and magic, they would rebel.

Hearing the explanation, the duke stroked his chin and nodded.

“Mhm, so that’s how it is.”

Operating a large-scale conscript army was the same for Prince Conrad, but he was at least the legitimate heir of Pendia.

This meant there was a vague sense of belonging that, as subjects of the kingdom, they should naturally fight under his command.

In contrast, to Duke of Morayen, a foreign noble who invaded and drafted them without notice to order them around, such a tactic was bound to be fatal.

Because it was difficult to erase the latent resentment of “Why must I risk my life fighting in a place like this?”

“Then is there perhaps any solution, Princess?”

“Taking a medicine that grants weak resistance to mental magic should be enough. I’ll make it for you if you pay. It doesn’t require particularly rare ingredients anyway.”

“You’re far too cold toward comrades fighting alongside you.”

“Suit yourself if you don’t want it.”

At Cheryn’s firm attitude, Duke of Morayen shook his head and replied that he understood.

He muttered as if complaining.

“Damn this Holy Accord! To think we can’t even use miracles to neutralize that magic while the enemy uses magic to their heart’s content… how unfair. It’s not beautiful at all!”

The Holy Accord was an agreement forged long ago after the Old Faith and New Faith fought a civil war, promising not to use the power of the Goddess in disputes between humans.

Healing the injured after battle was fine, but granting blessings to those entering fight or using it offensively like the Flames of Purification was strictly forbidden.

Naturally, magic was not included in this treaty because back then, no monarch even entertained the thought of hiring mages to use magic on the battlefield.

On top of that, magic tools, the legacy of the Altoan Empire, were already heirloom treasures handed down in various high noble families, so they naturally did not apply.

After those complaints lasted a moment, the duke’s gaze snapped toward Shan.

The displeasure from moments ago was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a chillingly bright face.

“Speaking of which, Sir Shan, I heard the news! I heard you received the surrender of those notorious semi-horse archers.”

“I was fortunate.”

“Fortunate, my foot! Wasn’t their captain Ranta of the Lugan tribe?”

“Yes, that was his name.”

“He is quite a famous figure, more than you might think.”

According to the duke’s following words, he was a particularly outstanding marksman even among the semi-horse archers of Horais, known by the nickname of Blue Wolf.

His status as the chief’s younger brother was equivalent to a noble in Libert or Pendia.

“I saw him shooting as well. It wasn’t as beautiful as yours, but it was exceptionally beautiful. Subduing such a man is not something that happens ‘by chance’, by no means!”

At Duke of Morayen’s fuss, the gazes of the surrounding knights looking at Shan shifted.

Admiration and hostility welled in the eyes of those who had previously looked down on him as merely a lucky Altoan bumpkin who gained a bit of fame.

“To be honest, I wanted to see you fight that lanky fellow too. Marquis Abel clashed with the lanky guy, and it ended in a draw this time as well.”

“Is that so?”

Since this was news he hadn’t heard, Shan looked at Marquis Abel with a slightly surprised expression.

Though he had never fought him, judging by the movement he observed, Marquis Abel’s skill was on a completely different level from the other knights.

Lug, as Shan remembered him, should have been no match for him, so just how strong had he become through actual battle during that time?

Seeing Shan’s expression, Marquis Abel spoke softly.

“I can still easily defeat him in a one-on-one, but he fought with the fierce determination to kill me even at the cost of his own life. Regrettably, I cannot die alongside him just yet.”

Hearing those words, he understood roughly what happened.

Even someone with relatively lower skill could push back a stronger opponent if they fought ready to throw away their life.

Of course, in return, at best they might die together if lucky, or die alone if unlucky; but for a powerhouse, there was no reason to engage in a dangerous struggle with a weaker foe whom they could break given time.

Naturally, that led to the battle being prolonged.

What he was curious about was for what reason such deep hatred had accumulated, but it didn’t seem like the Marquis would tell him about that.

While the knights engaged in small talk, Conrad argued with Cheryn again over the treatment of the captured mounted archers.

Rather than debating seriously, it seemed he was trying to pick a fight over anything to gain an advantage.

Even after that, after repeated discussions for a long time, the plan to form a pursuit force was canceled, concluding with responding according to the enemy’s movements.

Certainly, it was difficult for a three-headed beast to move flexibly and nimbly.

*

Upon returning to the main camp, Cheryn received a report from Roden, who had been in charge of clearing up the battlefield.

Roden summarized some of the important contents for her reference and delivered them verbally.

“Upon checking the casualties among the elite unit assigned hydra armor, the cause was attacks to their necks and faces.”

“It’s a pity we couldn’t introduce helmet visors due to budget issues. I should try to supply them as quickly as possible before the next fight… For now, take care of the wounded with top priority. Mobilize all priests and magic medicines so that permanent disabilities are avoided as much as possible. As for the prisoners, treat them slowly afterward if there is spare time.”

“Understood.”

When Roden answered Cheryn’s order, a knight beside them gave a faint smile and spoke.

“By the way, it’s a pity we couldn’t pursue further. I heard that the moment when one can maximize the expansion of military achievements is precisely when pursuing a fleeing enemy.”

“Right. If we had kept chasing, we might have caught that fellow Elvin…”

“That would be troublesome.”

At Cheryn’s following words, everyone looked at her with bewildered expressions.

“It seems everyone is mistaken about something; we came here to prevent Conrad’s downfall, not to turn him into the victor. Pushing Elvin too hard will not do.”

“Ah…”

“Come to think of it, that’s true.”

Though Elvin was said to have fallen into decline while backing the king, Conrad was still a powerful warlord holding western Pendia and the capital in his hands.

If they drove Elvin into a corner completely now, there would be no means left to keep Conrad in check.

It was truly a mindset typical of knights who lacked a big-picture perspective and merely obsessed over immediate victory.

Of course, it was hard to consider this a bad thing.

Because if knights interpreted war politically and made decisions as they pleased, it was far more likely to cause trouble for the leader.

It was more comfortable for her if they simply fought to the best of their ability like front-line commanders and high-level combat forces as instructed.

“Even setting that aside, we would have suffered heavy losses if we had kept up the pursuit.”

Shan recalled the situation at that time in his head while explaining.

After defeating the enemy knights, the Palles army unilaterally tore apart Elvin’s army facing them.

Then, blowing the retreat bugle, the enemy concentrated their returning forces to the right to halt the Palles army’s charge and tried to encircle them instead.

Since the right wing unit managed by Duke of Morayen happened to be fleeing at the time, if they had pressed forward as the knights suggested, they would have inflicted heavy damage on Prince Elvin, but they themselves would have suffered considerable losses as well.

Having spoken up to that point, Shan said “Ah,” as he turned to Roden.

“From what I saw this time, pursuing mounted archers with heavy cavalry doesn’t seem like a good idea. If it weren’t for me, we probably wouldn’t have caught them.”

When the Lord Protector, who should have originally played the commander’s role, openly rebuked his proxy’s mistake, the atmosphere froze over.

Regardless, Roden nodded with a serious expression.

“Was it that bad?”

“Yeah. It’s better to increase the number of archers and drive them away from the main body, or herd them into inescapable terrain.”

“I see… got it.”

A strategy that should have failed was forcibly succeeded due to the presence of an abnormally strong person like Shan, but if they remembered it as a successful strategy, they could suffer an even greater disaster later.

Since he couldn’t participate in every future battle.

‘Pursuing the semi-horse archers of Horais with a heavy-cavalry-centric force is impossible.’

Roden perceived this as pure information delivery without any political considerations and added it to his judgment criteria.

The next time they encountered mounted archers without Shan present, he would not repeat a similar mistake.

This was one of the invisible strengths that Palles possessed.

Because in groups where internal politics ran fierce, even such minor exchanges of opinion were often endowed with useless significance.

“So, how should we handle the prisoners?”

“As for the nobles, we can accept ransom and release them, and for the commoners… would it be better to take them to Palles and train them as soldiers?”

“Mhm, that would probably be best.”

Cheryn nodded at a knight’s suggestion.

Although the needed hands had decreased due to deploying various everyday-use magic tools, Palles separately needed more young men.

“The problem is those mounted archers of Horais.”

“Won’t King Ruman pay their ransom?”

“That would be fine too. Otherwise… we could hire and employ them ourselves. Wouldn’t that work?”

“Mmm.”

The knights who had personally fought them nodded with heavy expressions.

Certainly, they had won only because an unreasonable existence named Shan was present; until then, they had been completely toyed with in a one-sided manner.

Just as their reputation suggested, it was as if their upper bodies were human and lower bodies horses; the sight of them moving freely on horseback while firing arrows was downright terrifying.

“I’m worried about how much money they’ll ask for.”

“We can think about that slowly after their captain wakes up. It’s not like hiring them has been decided yet…”

In the middle of talking, Cheryn suddenly grimaced.

As everyone showed puzzled expressions, she shook her head and spoke.

“No, it’s just that my head hurts a little.”

“Shall I call a priest, Princess?”

“It’s not to that extent.”

Replying thus, Cheryn looked at the retainers around her and spoke softly.

“I thought about it for a bit, and it seems we have performed sufficiently well up to this point.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Unless Elvin continues to attack us, if the other side acts passively, I mean we should prepare to pull back immediately.”

At her sudden words, the retainers looked at each other with flustered expressions.

Clearly, although she had mentioned earlier that it would be troublesome if Conrad reached a winning state, everyone knew that the war situation had not progressed to that extent yet.

Indeed, Conrad had suffered the largest damage in this battle as well.

However, because Cheryn’s attitude was so firm, they nodded at their lord’s instruction to prepare for their return.

After the meeting ended, Shan approached Cheryn, who was grimacing, and asked.

“You saw it, right?”

“Yeah. Conrad, that son of a bitch, really…”

If it had been anyone else, they might not have known, but Shan could tell that even during the meeting, she had allocated part of her awareness to the spider to scout the surroundings and grasp something.

Since Elvin’s army had fled quite far from here, the information had likely come from Conrad or Duke of Morayen.

As he quietly watched her, Cheryn shared what she had seen.

“When I asked where Cassia was before, his evasive answer was suspicious, and it turns out that bastard sold his younger sister to the northern barbarians.”

Originally, Cassia was engaged to the heir of the Kingdom of Ajun, but because Shan had killed a noble of that side in the Demonic Realm, the engagement had somehow ended up broken.

Though the only ones who knew that fact were the four green-eyed explorers.

But this time, Conrad had revived that engagement once more and had been promised an army as a dowry.

Since the Kingdom of Ajun was also a representative Old Faith country, under the pretext of ‘rebuilding the true faith’.

According to those words, fighting alongside Conrad here held no meaning.

Because if the reinforcement army of the Kingdom of Ajun joined, Conrad would easily be able to maintain balance with Elvin even without their help.

“This guy or that guy, all these prince bastards care about is selling out the country just because they want to become king…”

Cheryn muttered incredulously at the truly pathetic situation.