Chapter 323: Stone Battle (2)

Conventional slings carried properly shaped stones for accuracy, but staff slings were designed for local procurement.

This was because their purpose was area fire rather than precision shooting, and the stones were large and heavy, making processing and transport difficult. Against enemies formed in shield walls, they were a special remedy.

One hundred and fifty stones bombarding from above.

“Incoming!”

A Viking screamed a cry ahead of its time.

Thud!

Doom!

The devastating power, incomparable to arrows, pounded the Vikings. Sturdy shields deflected wooden splinters and held, but flimsy shields were shattered in a single hit.

“Fall back!”

“Shield bearers, group up!”

Still, as shields were destroyed, the kinetic energy was dispersed. Those whose wrists trembled fell back, and rear personnel stepped forward to fill the gaps.

The problem was when a stone dropped into the gaps between shields. Midgard shields were all round, creating gaps where they couldn’t fully overlap. Fist-sized stones wedged into those spaces.

Crunch!

Warriors with broken shoulders or jaws crumbled. Among them were some with naturally tough constitutions who could withstand a hit.

“Kuh!”

A warrior struck in the face swallowed a groan.

“Valo!”

“Hey! Are you okay?”

When a shield wall formed, warriors could feel each other’s breath. In the darkness, his comrades smelled the thick scent of blood.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

Warrior Valo, his nose shattered and streaming blood, grinned. When the first volley ended, the Vikings peered outside through gaps in their lowered shields.

“Oh…”

And they all wished they hadn’t looked, immediately closing their shields again.

Whoosh!

Oval or square stones were hurtling through the air, spinning violently. The rotation was similar to throwing an axe—honestly, catching a real axe would have been more comfortable.

Boom!

“Argh!”

Groans erupted everywhere under the unbearable impact. After two volleys, shields were cracking everywhere, and stones could be seen flying through those fissures.

“Here they come again!”

“Don’t those women’s arms get tired?”

The sight of stones soaring into the sky was beginning to sap their morale.

Crunch!

Shields struck in succession shattered here and there.

“Kuaaaaah!”

Someone unlucky enough to have their foot crushed screamed. Even then, their tenacity in not dropping their shields despite the pain was remarkable.

“Hraaah! Huh! Hraaah! Huh!”

That warrior breathed heavily and held his position. Of course, not everyone had such endurance. Someone whose five toes were completely pulverized writhed and collapsed.

Wealthy mercenaries wore boots with thin metal plates on the instep, but poor Vikings had nothing but ragged sandals.

“Loading complete!”

Young Dark Elf assistants lay flat on the ground, covering their heads. It was safer and more efficient to simply lie down than to move aside each time.

They watched the principal archers with envy. The sight of them wielding staffs, displaying their trained physiques, was art itself.

Whoosh!

Once again, stones flew through the sky. Unlike arrows, their large size meant stones sometimes collided with each other.

“Get it together! What are you doing?”

Suddenly, one shield dropped low. It was the warrior who had taken a hit to the face at the start but had toughed it out.

“Valo? Hey, Valo!”

He was still streaming blood from both nostrils, his face blank. The blood loss was too severe for sheer willpower to sustain, and he was half out of his mind.

Thud.

He collapsed on the spot.

“We can’t go on like this! Archers! Return fire!”

“No! We have to lure them inside the stream before we can reveal…”

“To hell with strategy! We’re all about to die here!”

While Viking lords argued among themselves, the concealed archers stepped forward. One Jarl had threatened them at swordpoint, unable to watch his men die.

Even a lord’s orders to his vassals were frequently ignored in the warfare of this era. Vikings, with their weak sense of tribal solidarity, were even less unified.

When the archers emerged and prepared to shoot, Eugene also rotated his forces.

“Slingsmen, fall back! Crossbowmen, advance!”

Dwarves armed with siege crossbows rushed forward to relieve the Dark Elves.

“The Dwarves too?”

“Hurry and shoot! Kill them before those women escape!”

The Vikings fired first, but the female warriors’ feet were already too fast, and they had moved out of range.

The Dwarves fixed pavises covering their entire bodies. Stronger than humans and shorter in stature, they had a significant advantage in using pavises. They could be repositioned in real-time during battle.

“Finished?”

When the arrow attack ended, the Dwarves immediately counterattacked. Taut bowstrings snapped, and steel bolts punished the enemy archers.

“Kuhhhh!”

“Stop! Don’t pull it out. Leave it. The flesh will come with it.”

True to their tough nature, even with bolts embedded in their limbs, they maintained their fighting spirit and aimed their bows. The crossbows were so powerful that bolts were buried to the root—pulling them out by hand was impossible.

“Fire!”

The Viking archers fired again, but this time they couldn’t penetrate the pavises’ protection. The Dwarves’ loaded crossbows brought them down in droves once more.

“Stop! Retreat!”

Even the Jarl who had forced the attack recalled his archers in the face of that devastating exchange.

“Slingmen, forward!”

When the arrow threat vanished, the nightmare-like stone bombardment resumed. Accumulating damage forced the Vikings to abandon the crossing point.

“Now is the time to prove your valor.”

“We will fight with everything we have!”

Eugene advanced the surrendered warriors to the front. These were the armies of Jarls and Huskarls who had stamped their blood on oath documents.

-I swear loyalty to the Maison family. Our axes and spears will crush the enemies. The blood flowing in my body makes this oath sacred.

To signify their break from the old ways and choice of the correct path, Eugene gave them a new name.

“From now on, I will call you Bargeant.”

It was a combination of ‘bar,’ meaning oath, and ‘gian,’ meaning follower.

The Bargeant warriors advanced silently toward their compatriots, who outnumbered them many times over. They believed in the army supporting them from behind, and they feared it too.

‘Just try to slip up.’

The Dwarf crossbowmen watched them with those kinds of gazes, ready to shoot them first if necessary.

“They crossed the stream.”

“Battle stations! Prepare for attack!”

“Garm! What are you doing? Why aren’t you joining?”

The coalition facing them lacked unity when it came to fratricide.

“Jarl. Our families are over there…”

“I know.”

Eugene had deliberately gathered the prisoners in a highly visible spot across the stream.

“Honey!”

“Waaaaah!”

The sight of his wife clinging to the iron bars, looking at him pathetically, and the children’s crying—looking at that, it was impossible to fight.

“There’s still hope. The King of the South seems merciful. If we act now…”

A Huskarl whispered, and his sentiment matched not only Garm’s but other warriors’ feelings as well.

They had just slaughtered the priests in response to a generous offer. A lord who had shown patience even after such an insult was worth gambling on.

“They wanted our families dead all along and used the priests as shields. Do we need to show loyalty to this kind of trash?”

The fury was also directed at the lords who had provoked the battle on their own. Garm’s forces retreated, and retreated again. As if appealing to the King of the South that they had no hostile intent.

‘Look at these guys?’

‘Are they pulling a trick right now?’

Other lords sensed the subtle shift in atmosphere. That was why they couldn’t focus solely on the battle ahead and had to glance behind them.

In this situation, the Bargeant warriors, despite being numerically inferior, led the battle advantageously.

“Dogs of Britannia!”

“They crawl between your legs to offer a leash, and you’re happy? Huh?”

The trash talk from the coalition targeted warriors’ pride. There were no accusations of betrayal based on nationalism.

“Fine, great! From armor to greaves—this is just wonderful!”

“You don’t have this at your house, do you?”

The responding Bargeant thrust his spear downward. The opponent, relying on a single shield and wearing only sandals and cloth clothes, suffered a severe leg wound and collapsed.

Dwarf crossbowmen flanked both sides while the frontal melee raged. Pulling triggers on enemies locked in desperate combat was an addiction they couldn’t break.

“Newcomers, wait here!”

Cassandra’s special forces also switched to standard slings and joined the Dwarves.

“These bastards have gotten bold!”

Ranged units advancing without an escort, acting with such bravado—the enraged Vikings screamed and charged.

“Charge!”

And toward them, a small cavalry force led by Eugene and his knights struck.

Whooosh!

Whoosh!

The warhorses alone were intimidating enough, but swinging horse-riding maces in the air created a terrifying sound. Even the leading Huskarl flinched to a halt.

“What is that?”

“Raise your shields!”

The warriors who had been charging toward the crossbowmen were struck by the maces. Even blocking with shields, they bent strangely and struck, bouncing off comrades’ shields to hit their own faces.

Smack!

The power was substantial—those struck in the face had their features caved in and collapsed. The weapons themselves were powerful, but without knowing how to counter them, they were helpless.

“There’s more here too!”

“What are you looking at?”

After heavy cavalry swept through once, Dwarves poured bolts into the broken formations.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side, a massive axe was tearing through ranks indiscriminately.

“It’s a monster!”

Every time Eugene swung Blackout, shields shattered together. Severed spear shafts, arms, and wrists rolled everywhere—it was hell on earth.

Craaack!

Creaaak!

Eugene didn’t overexert himself, tearing at the enemy’s surface like peeling an apple. But no warrior dared to charge.

-Die, monster!

Shing!

-I’ll fell you and sing of you forever…

Shing!

Brave Huskarls who charged were split vertically on the spot.

No matter how strong you were, severing a head or arm in one blow was the limit. Splitting someone helm and armor in two like this was unheard of.

Seeing the remains ‘poured’ on the ground, they wondered if they could even reach Valhalla after dying like that. Even a Valkyrie might wrinkle her nose and simply turn away.

With shields gone, their defenseless bodies were pierced by stones and bolts.

“Strike them!”

Around that time, Jarl Garm made his decision. He attacked the rear of the Viking coalition that was fighting desperately.

“You sons of bitches! You dare betray us?”

“Watch your mouth! Who betrayed whom first?”

The enraged lords were met with Garm’s cold words. The coalition, already losing and now struck from behind, was annihilated in an instant.

*

“What do we do now?”

“First, drop your weapons.”

Garm’s forces, now alone, looked around cautiously.

“This doesn’t seem like a pre-arranged betrayal.”

“Let’s wait for orders.”

Eugene’s subordinates also ceased attacking, awaiting their lord’s instructions. After all, Garm had delivered a meaningful result by raiding the enemy’s rear.

“We have no intention of fighting the King of the South!”

At Garm’s cry, Eugene rode Might forward to stand before them. His gesture of willingness to converse made Garm’s warriors clench their fists.

“The killing of the priests was never our intention!”

“I know.”

Eugene smiled faintly and signaled with both hands. The movements were short and brief, so the Vikings didn’t notice.

Nod.

Nod.

But the Dwarf crossbowmen and Caracal Special Forces received the orders and moved covertly.

“Whether this pleases the King or not, we have expressed our sincerity. This is not cowardly betrayal but legitimate revenge. Please understand.”

“Of course. Your families were taken hostage, and they started this by force. I would have done the same.”

When Eugene agreed, Garm felt even more relieved.

“Might I ask something…”

“Don’t hesitate. Ask.”

“Were there many casualties in the village raid?”

“Not many dead.”

“The children…”

“Of course, all are safe.”

As Garm continued, relieved, he was startled by the Dwarves and Dark Elves flanking them.

“If you release our families, whatever the King says—no, what are you doing right now?!”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m answering your questions honestly.”

“Our warriors are surrounding us right now!”

“No. You’re imagining things.”

Only then did Garm understand Eugene’s intent.

“You damn—!”

His warrior instincts screamed ‘Do something!’ but his body wouldn’t move. The military disparity was overwhelming, and his family were still hostages. What could he possibly do here?

If his family had been dead, it would have been simple. He could have paid homage to the Sovereign and launched a final charge. But even now, many warriors couldn’t abandon that last shred of hope.

“We surrender! Please, at least spare our families!”

“There are levels to surrender. I’ll decline this kind.”

The perfect encirclement was complete.

“And we need to extract payment for the dead priests.”

“We didn’t kill them!”

“I think so too, but I need to satisfy the clergy who came with me.”

Where Eugene pointed, holy knights who had finished fighting stood covered in blood. They all glared at Garm’s warriors with looks reserved for pests.

“Do you have any last words?”

A scribe standing beside Eugene picked up his pen. At Valda’s advice, he had accompanied them since last year.

-Your deeds must be recorded in history. So our descendants will know what journey the founder of our family undertook.

The scribe attended not only business meetings but also followed to the battlefield, leaving records. This was a moment that couldn’t be missed when concluding a major battle. Garm’s last words would be immortalized on a page of the history book.

“Please!”

“Not much of a last word.”

Scratch scratch.

As the pen moved, bolts and stones poured from all directions. Garm, who had held out to the last, died kneeling. Seven bolts were embedded in his body.

*

“You fought admirably.”

Eugene praised the exhausted Bargeant.

“We only stood firm in the front lines. It was the Count’s power that annihilated them.”

Despite being in the most difficult position, no one dared claim credit. The warrior who had single-handedly torn open an axis while wielding a massive axe stood before them.

“Search the bodies for trophies.”

“Just for us?”

“We’ll be raiding the villages, so it’s fine. Take what you can handle.”

Eugene spoke somewhat arrogantly, telling them to search at their leisure. As he watched the warriors rush off excitedly, Cassandra approached.

“When the enemy killed the priests, I thought the Count would repay them in kind.”

Cassandra raised her lips and held her hand like a blade across her throat. Sweat from the battle’s heat clung to her neck with strands of silver hair, making her extremely alluring.

“To think they so brazenly ruined the Count’s offer. Unforgivable, right? But you had a plan all along. To think you could induce betrayal…”

“That’s a misunderstanding. I never expected things to work out this well.”

“Then you spared them out of mercy?”

Eugene pulled a gold coin from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers.

“Death produces nothing. If there was something to gain, I wouldn’t hesitate to swing my sword… but if my emotional satisfaction is all there is to it, why bother?”

Slaves were more expensive than imagined. Even knights couldn’t afford them easily without their own estates.

A young woman’s price started at double that of a man. If they were beautiful, fair-skilled, or had special skills like dancing or massage, the price multiplied exponentially.

The floor varied widely, but the ceiling seemed limitless. There were quite a few slaves who sold for more than the destrier warhorses that knights rode.

“Midgardians are the second most expensive in slave markets. Almost none dare capture them, so they’re rarely seen.”

“Then who’s first?”

As Eugene looked puzzled, Cassandra swept her hair back. That gesture and expression were filled with arrogance.

“There’s no one in this world more expensive than us.”

“You were almost sold yourself, yet you boast.”

“Hmph!”

Eugene soothed the sulking Cassandra.

*

The frequent slaughter of prisoners was actually not due to hatred during battle. The difficulty of managing and feeding prisoners during war was a greater factor.

But this campaign was different.

-Capture them! That’s all money!

-You idiot, don’t hit the face. If there are scars, it comes out of your pay!

-What about the kids? They’re not worth much and just cause trouble.

-Just hold them for now. The priests are making a fuss. We can at least get some spare change selling them to the monastery.

Delegating to the Moving Castle solved the problems of feeding and management, allowing them to return to the battlefield. Even after deducting management fees, it was highly profitable.

As a result, processions traveling to and from the Moving Castle never ceased. Human hunting occurred everywhere, and prisoners were transported in chains.

-Surrender! We surrender! We wish to speak with Count Maison!

-…Damn.

More and more lords were raising white flags before battle.

-Are these really Vikings? Why are they so cowardly?

-Captain, just ignore them and wipe them out.

-What?

-Does being a Count mean anything? Plunder in war is a sacred right. Besides, you’ve worked so hard to get here.

-Hahaha. What a good lad.

-Right? Hehe.

Smack!

When greedy mercenaries occasionally crossed the line, the captain dealt with them personally.

-Those who surrender before fighting, send them to me. I will not kill gently those who trample on honorable surrender and muddy the waters.

-At your command!

Commander-level figures had been firmly warned by Eugene at the pre-battle feast.

Rumors were already spreading that Eugene would ascend to the throne after this campaign. No one in their right mind wanted to be marked by the future king in one strike.

As the fires of war spread across the battlefield like a wildfire, the Vikings also began to rally. They realized that fighting individually offered no solution.

A large army formed around King Skal, descendant of ‘the One Who Broke the Horizon.’

Naturally, in times like these, those who sided with the invader to pursue profit and stability also appeared.

“He invited you?”

“Yes. His name is Sigurd. He became a lord through a duel recently.”

“Mm.”

Valda made a disgusted expression.

‘To compete for noble status through sweat and fists rather than the nobility of blood.’

This was barbarism itself to Valda. People weren’t orcs or goblins.

“He should come to you—how dare he summon you?”

More and more Vikings were raising white flags and offering blood oaths. Eugene couldn’t visit them all, so he was having them come to the Moving Castle.

-Perhaps you will be the only house I personally visit to receive an oath.

-It’s an honor!

Thanks to this, the Bargeant who had served from the beginning held their heads high before the newly surrendered.

Eugene granted greater authority by bestowing knighthood on the lords’ sons. Additionally, several strategic points left unburned, like Garm’s village, were divided among his second and third sons.

“It would be unwise to ignore this. Quite a few lords support this man called Sigurd. And the meeting place is special—a pond where ancient Midgard heroes once bathed.”

The letter repeatedly apologized for Sigurd daring to summon Eugene.

“They say if I bathe in this pond, the hesitant Vikings will become significantly more cooperative.”

It was a kind of baptism-like concept. However, its religious significance was weak, closer to a ceremony for great warriors. There was no room for the accompanying clergy to complain.

“Then it’s even more dangerous! Meeting naked with enemy lords…”

“The sacred pond forbids not only blades but even a single piece of clothing. However, they say you may bring the same number of guards. Originally, it was only permitted for the same Jarl.”

“Those guards should be naked too—what does it matter?”

“It matters.”

“???”

“Don’t worry too much. It’s a wide-open area, so you can escape on horseback anytime. It’s not like they could catch Might.”

“That’s true.”

Eugene smiled and sent a reply accepting the meeting.

*

The appointed day arrived.

“Will the King of the South really come?”

“What would he have to lose?”

Viking lords who had arrived first at the sacred pond looked around anxiously. Only Sigurd waited calmly.

“Given his actions so far, he’s the type who would accept. His courage is as great as his monstrous strength. Let’s trust him and wait.”

Moments later, a horse whinnied, and Eugene appeared with four guards.

“???”

“???”

The Viking lords were surprised that the infamous King of the South was so remarkably young. But that was nothing compared to what came next.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Eugene, the expedition commander.”

Behind him, in his natural state, stood warriors covered entirely in fine fur. Homi in beast form, and three Rakshasa.

“Rrrr-.”

Even among Shasha’s tribe, the larger and fiercer ones showed wariness. Though herbivorous now, their teeth and claws were still sharp as wild beasts. They could easily kill an unarmed Viking.

Homi, who led them, was wrapped in beautiful silver fur.

“What are those beasts?!”

“Beasts? How rude to the ladies.”

Eugene replied calmly to the lord who had risen in alarm. After all, he had followed the rules, hadn’t he?