Chapter 334: Royal Wrath

Rumble!

The rain intensified and thunder began to crack.

No envoys had been exchanged between the armies, but an implicit truce had been signed. Fighting in the rain would turn most soldiers into patients regardless of who won.

“Hurry up and get over here!”

Mercenaries on outer guard duty urged their replacements visible in the distance. The outpost had a makeshift roof, so they avoided getting soaked, but they wanted to get to the fire quickly.

“It’s pouring. You guys had it rough.”

“What’s that you’re wearing?”

Unlike themselves, who would arrive wet and leave wet, the relieving guards wore navy blue long coats.

Coats! Not even nobles, but mere mercenaries.

But they weren’t expensive fur coats. The material was thin as paper with an vaguely plant-like feel, but the overall design was quite stylish—honestly impressive.

“Raincoats. Made from plants developed by the Elven princess.”

The first-age Elven royal house earned everyone’s respect through developing and distributing plants used for hygiene products. Valda, who inherited that bloodline, had talent in this area too.

“They look expensive. Where did the money come from?”

“Think we bought them with our money? The Count gave eight sets to each mercenary unit assigned guard duty. He said to preserve our stamina without getting wet.”

“…Our captain never mentioned anything like that.”

Guard duty was shared among multiple mercenary companies.

“Your captain probably didn’t embezzle it.”

“Of course not. If he got caught, it wouldn’t end with just a lecture.”

“Maybe he’s saving them in perfect condition to return them?”

The mercenaries’ faces flushed red and blue as they listened to the relief guards’ chatter.

There were more ways to impress superiors than just flattery. Some tried to appeal by rationing supplies, and their captains were the type who particularly excelled at this. The sentries grumbled as they departed.

Crash!

A bright flash of lightning illuminated the world momentarily. The newly posted guards saw animals feasting on the battlefield.

Wolves, wild dogs, foxes, lynx, wolverines—all manner of carnivores had gathered.

Normally, they would growl at each other on sight, but now they were in a state of peace. With food strewn everywhere, there was no need to fight.

“Are we just going to leave those corpses? Watching them get eaten during guard duty is a bit…”

“Then what do you want to do? Clean them up in the rain?”

It wasn’t an even split—the Viking coalition’s corpses far outnumbered the expeditionary force’s. The enemy hadn’t requested cleanup, so there was no reason for the expeditionary force to expend effort. This was the cruel face of war.

“There, good boy?”

The sentry stroked the guard dog. Normally fierce, the dog lay trembling now. It was overwhelmed by the scent of death washing over from the distant battlefield and the presence of all those predators.

*

The sentries who returned cursing their flattering captain found the camp transformed into a horse market. Dark Elves were assisting Britannian riders in moving horses.

“Leave that area empty. Gather everything over here.”

“Wouldn’t it be too cramped to put them all in here?”

“It’s fine. The horses would prefer being cramped to being cold.”

Knights were creatures who believed they were the best in strength. But they didn’t let pride extend to horse care and management.

No fool would refuse the care of nomads of the Fairy race, who could communicate with animals. A well-bred warhorse wasn’t cheap.

“My horse is a bit injured…”

“A chunk of flesh was torn off, and you call that ‘a bit’?”

“S-sorry about that.”

“It’s your horse—nothing to be sorry about.”

Fortunately, the wound was near the rear and didn’t seem to be worsening. The Dark Elf applied pink ointment evenly over the affected area.

“I can’t give you the full supply of this precious medicine. Come back every two days.”

“Thank you!”

Watching this scene with a warm smile, Eugene asked Rex.

“Should we set up roofs now?”

Rex checked the rainwater with his hand and shook his head.

“At this level, no horses will catch cold.”

“Good.”

Midgard was further north than Rome or Britannia. With autumn already here, a single cold rain could damage expensive horses.

The body heat radiated by livestock was itself an excellent heater. The reason farmers kept pigs or goats indoors wasn’t solely to protect them from predators.

Eugene wanted to ban this as it caused disease, but it wasn’t easy.

“Still, it’ll be dangerous when winter comes. According to Thorvald, destrier bloodlines could die in droves from a single rain.”

“We’ll settle it before then. The moment the rain stops, we’ll attack.”

Heavy cavalry chargers were bred to squeeze out energy and cool body heat quickly. They weren’t suited for military operations in Midgard’s harsh winter.

“Should we have come in spring instead?”

“Then by now, peasant rebels and nobles would be butchering each other. Rather than killing each other, it’s better to strike outward.”

Eugene also preferred warm-weather expeditions to high latitudes, but it couldn’t be helped. This expedition served to redirect domestic anger at external enemies, beyond revenge and glory.

“Might.”

Vrrrr?

“Horses packed tightly together will get antsy. Go keep them in line. Make them behave.”

Vrrrr!

In fact, they were already busy calming horses everywhere.

“It’ll be warm soon. Your neighbors will keep you warm too.”

The horses, agitated by the cramped space, calmed at the fairy’s touch.

Frrrrr!

However, horses wounded in battle remained nervous and restless. It was difficult, no matter how skilled the trainer, to instill pain endurance in animals.

But it wasn’t impossible. If training didn’t work, fear would.

Grrrrr-.

The horses that had been ready to kick anything quieted down. Might went to the most aggressive groups first, establishing discipline.

“Hello there, Sir Knight.”

Dark Elf Galatea was in a standoff with a Britannian knight.

“If we don’t send it to the Moving Castle, this horse will be crippled. It’s walking fine now, but once battle starts, it’ll be limping within thirty minutes.”

“The war isn’t over yet. I haven’t shown my true ability to the Count.”

The knight spoke stubbornly.

“And if you lose the horse too? Send it to the castle to rest and it’ll fully recover. Our tribe’s finest horse healer is there too.”

“…You’re right.”

The knight sighed in agreement. Underestimating nomads’ eye for horse diagnosis was foolish.

“You made the right choice. By the time the war ends, you’ll see it healthy again. The Count is already thinking about missions only a foot knight can perform. Don’t be too impatient.”

Galatea smiled and handed over a leather wineskin. The knight who received it made a peculiar expression—nothing like the arrogant Dark Elves of rumor.

“I’m a bit of an oddball in my tribe.”

“I didn’t say anything?”

“Your mouth didn’t, but your face said it all. Knights are especially bad at keeping their expressions in check.”

“Ahem!”

Not all Dark Elves were supremacists soaked in a sense of superiority. Some, like Eugene, were practical and brimming with curiosity about the world.

The ones now interacting with the knights and caring for horses were that type.

“Keck!”

“Hahaha! Does the mare milk not agree with you?”

Galatea grinned.

The knight suppressed the words ‘You call this booze?’ He couldn’t say that to someone who had been nothing but kind.

“Nomad cuisine doesn’t quite agree with me.”

“To be honest, I hate it too. I just gave it to you because I was curious about your reaction.”

“…”

The knight easily swallowed the rising irritation.

If a fellow knight had done it, he would have unleashed a torrent of profanity. But looking at the beautiful young lady before him, his anger dissipated.

Today was the full moon. The Dark Elves took on a faint moonlight during this period. Each strand of Galatea’s hair shimmered as if spun by silkworms fed on moonlight.

*

Several more days passed and the rain stopped.

The scene of peaceful rest vanished instantly, replaced by the entire expeditionary force brimming with fighting spirit.

“They didn’t run?”

“Seems they haven’t tasted enough pain yet.”

“They have nowhere to run to, so that’s why. They don’t have castle walls—what can they do behind village fences?”

In the end, if they scattered, they would burn with their villages. So gathering their strength once more for a decisive clash was the right call. The Britannian nobles showed their own respect for such warriorly spirit.

No one in the expeditionary force doubted victory, so only one question remained.

“Who will take the vanguard?”

“The Count hasn’t specified…”

Who would lead the vanguard in what would likely be the second and final battle? The honor at stake was considerable, but so were the spoils.

If Skal’s coalition was defeated, the spoils would be plentiful, and they could freely plunder the emptied territories. The right to pick the best was naturally proportional to merit.

“Sir Mawin? What will you do? If you’ve caught the Count’s eye, requesting the vanguard…”

“I appreciate the thought, but I must politely decline. The Count has assigned me to guard his wife. He told me not to even dream of charging until I’ve verified my fief.”

Knights without fiefs looked at Mawin with expressions that said they would die of envy. Earning a fief through merit was impressive enough, but he had also secured a place in Britannia’s most powerful figure’s eyes.

The village Mawin received was a small pioneer settlement of fifteen farming households. But pioneer settlements had the characteristic of growing substantially through the lord’s care or refugee influx.

Meanwhile, Eugene was surrounded by distinguished nobles urging him to attack.

“They haven’t fully recovered from the shock of defeat. If we launch a major assault now, they’ll crumble for certain.”

Not just the nobles, but the expeditionary priests also joined in.

“Think of the innocent people and devout priests who suffered under those monsters’ blasphemy. I couldn’t sleep a wink all night from the outrage.”

“Think of the brothers and sisters suffering in their territories. We must crush Skal and rescue them immediately.”

It was a request based purely on hatred or faith, with no interest in wealth or glory.

“Assemble the army.”

Eugene had no intention of prolonging the expedition either. Unlike those who only cared about victory and plunder, he had more than enough to do after returning.

*

The deployed expeditionary force halted before the battle-ready Viking coalition army. Despite being battered, they still had large numbers. This was partly due to fighting on home ground, and partly due to Midgardian culture.

“Are those women?”

“Shield maidens, I suppose. First time seeing them in person.”

The soldiers murmured. Female warriors armed like men were deployed in considerable numbers on the left. Until now, they had been assigned to rear guard and supply duties, but with their backs against the wall…

For their last stand, King Skal had mobilized all available forces.

“The scouts reported they were fortifying, but the construction seems to have gone poorly.”

“Why bother getting pneumonia digging in the rain? They probably did just enough.”

The nobles laughed. There wasn’t enough time or materials to build palisades like walls or dig temporary moats.

However, they had clearly put effort into arrow defense. They had dismantled wagons to make plank shields and cut down densely branched trees for cover. Simple but excellent defensive measures.

“Your Excellency. Please give the attack order.”

“The enemies are in lower ground than us. Furthermore, the left is extremely vulnerable—one push and their balance will crumble.”

The bellicose knights spoke confidently. The most troublesome mobile stake traps were nowhere to be seen.

Eugene dismounted instead of answering.

“The ground is soft. It comes up to just below the ankles.”

He reached down and tore out a handful of earth—seven parts grass, three parts roots. The roots were all caked in sticky mud.

“If it’s like this on top, what about down below?”

From a distance, it looked like a lush green meadow. But once fighting began, it would instantly turn brown. Furthermore, near the left wing where the shield maidens were holding, there was a small forest.

“A trap?”

“Probably. And the terrain is perfect for enemies who fight in light armor, which concerns me.”

“But we can’t back down here.”

“I know. We have our own insurance.”

When Eugene subtly turned his head, the nobles shifted their gaze too. There sat Valda on horseback. As it was a battlefield, she rode not in her usual side-saddle but upright.

To maximize her magic, she first needed to engage the enemy.

“Arch forward.”

The lined Dark Elf archers drew their bowstrings.

“Fire!”

The sound of countless bowstrings releasing was always exhilarating.

Everyone’s eyes followed the arrows soaring into the sky. A magnificent sight, like countless migratory birds flying in formation. They soon became water striders, pouring down upon the Vikings.

But only the loud patter of hail on shields was heard—no cries of pain. The plank shields Skal had desperately supplied and the trees planted for cover provided considerable defense.

“Is that all?!”

“Cowardly Britannians!”

The Vikings jeered as they endured with minimal casualties. Arrow attacks were less effective against enemies who had prepared diligently, unlike moving units.

The competitive archers received another fire order from Eugene. Arrows flew through the sky again, but the Vikings blocked them easily.

“Don’t be afraid—come over here!”

“We won’t hurt you! Come closer!”

Ugly men smiled unnaturally and beckoned. Some even dropped their weapons and shields to come out and urinate.

“Ignore them and shoot.”

The third rain of arrows also achieved nothing.

More Vikings than before dropped their trousers in mockery, and even the shield maidens on the left joined in.

Loud-voiced women mercilessly mocked the Britannian men’s anatomy—a provocation that proved extremely effective.

“Skal’s getting desperate too. For someone who cared so much about royal dignity, these tactics are awfully crude.”

“Your Excellency! Please, give the charge order!”

Eugene calmed the knights and ordered a fourth volley.

‘If only it hadn’t rained…’

He would have fired fire arrows, but with both ground and cover soaked, that wasn’t an option.

As Eugene maintained cold-headed arrow attacks, King Skal began his ultimate provocation.

“…!”

About to give the fire order, Eugene hastily restrained the archers. Hostages dressed in priestly garments, rounded up from across Midgard, were presented as human shields.

“Th-those…”

“What despicable vermin!”

The Britannian camp was horrified.

“Shoot!”

“Shoot, you cowards!”

Meanwhile, the Vikings grew bolder.

Whether they were all priests was uncertain. They might have dressed ordinary slaves in priestly garments. But for Eugene, shooting arrows at them was extremely burdensome.

One of the stated reasons for the expedition was rescuing Britannians taken hostage. Among them, priests from various orders were high-value hostages.

“Your Excellency! Please, don’t shoot them!”

Eugene couldn’t ignore the pleas of the order representatives either.

“Archers, stand aside. Knights, prepare for melee.”

He couldn’t prevent hostages dying in close combat, but having them killed by arrows fired on Eugene’s orders was unacceptable.

“All knights, dismount. If you charge on horseback, you’ll end up like overturned turtles.”

The young knights looked displeased but obediently followed instructions. The seasoned veterans supported Eugene’s decision.

Knights advanced with clanking armor, followed by heavy infantry and pikemen. The short Dwarves were extremely vulnerable in this terrain, so they were assigned supply duties in the rear.

“Maintain formation!”

“Advance slowly!”

Woof! Woof!

Dog handlers kept pace at regular intervals.

“No oil smell!”

“None here either!”

Precautions against potential fire attacks were not forgotten.

“…”

“…”

The enemy’s slow but solid advance gradually silenced the Vikings’ mockery. Some looked back with alarmed expressions.

“Brothers of faith! Don’t worry about us!”

One hostage loosened his gag and shouted. He was immediately beaten down, but the sight only fueled the expeditionary force’s fighting spirit.

“Damn it. Pull the hostages back.”

As collision countdown began, Huskarls pulled the hostages away. Useful for blocking arrows, they were nothing but obstacles that thinned their own ranks in close combat.

“Pull!”

At the Jarls’ shouts, the front-line Vikings pulled ropes. Large wooden stakes bound in groups of three rose from the ground.

“Stakes!”

“They’ve laid stakes!”

Since the infantry had been advancing slowly, the stakes posed little threat. Once melee began, the Vikings dropped the ropes and fought back. Their careful sharpening had been for nothing.

Violent hand-to-hand combat erupted everywhere. The ground was slippery with mud, so as many fought on the ground as standing.

“Die! Just die already!”

A Huskarl entangled with a knight punched the visor with a mud-caked fist. The Huskarl’s chain gloves were also clogged with dirt at every link.

“Ah, I can’t see.”

One knight was busy wiping his helmet, ignoring the battle entirely. The Viking he had just killed had smeared mud in his eye slits. But his gauntlets were also muddy, so the helmet wouldn’t clean.

Shhhhh.

When it started raining again, it was enough to make anyone grimace. This was the filthiest kind of battle Eugene had ever experienced.

Meanwhile, noisy commotion was heard from the forest to the left of the Viking camp. The diversionary force Eugene had sent had encountered the enemy.

“So there was an ambush after all.”

“Should we send reinforcements?”

“No. The two young ladies should be sufficient.”

No sooner had Eugene finished speaking than a terrible roar was heard. Startled birds took flight en masse.

“Monster!”

A Viking’s faint scream could be heard.

The diversionary force consisted of Cassandra’s slingers and Homi’s assault squad, composed of Highlanders from northern Britannia and Lantzheim—all specialists in forest combat.

After several hours of fierce fighting, the Vikings who couldn’t hold out gradually retreated.

And Valda stepped forward.

Dozens of birds flew overhead in tight formation. They were familiars of the Black Hand tribe witches—all large birds of prey with specially made baskets on their legs.

The birds, divided into two groups, flew in an ellipse along the Viking coalition’s retreat path.

“■■■.”

“■■■. ■■.”

The witches pressed index finger and thumb to their foreheads, focusing their will to transmit additional thought commands.

When the familiars relaxed their grip, the baskets tilted and green beans began to fall. Along their flight path, in measured quantities.

“Your Majesty! We must retreat immediately!”

“Retreat? Will the enemy just let us go?”

“If this continues, we’ll be annihilated! Painful as it is, we must wage guerrilla warfare through winter!”

Meanwhile, the tide of battle was turning in the expeditionary force’s favor. The shield maidens, deployed to make up numbers and lure the enemy, fell faster than expected. Another few moments and semi-encirclement would be achieved.

“The enemy can’t ride either, so pursuit will be difficult.”

“Damn it! Sound the retreat!”

King Skal had no choice. He was forced to choose Plan B, which he really didn’t want to use. But the birds had already scattered all the seeds.

“Spirits of the forest. Spirits of the vine. Loyal friends who provided shelter to our ancestors. I, Valda of the royal house, command you. Show my enemies the power of nature. The might of green greater than stone and higher than castle walls!”

Powerful magic swept across the battlefield. It was the forest magic used by the first-age Elven royal house to build their palaces.

“…!”

“Huh?”

Even warriors who understood nothing of the arcane stopped fighting for a moment, a chill running down their spines.

Tap.

Crack.

The beans the birds had scattered split open, and shoots burst forth with terrifying force.

“Mother of God!”

The two cotyledons, each no bigger than a fingernail, grew to the size of cabbages in seconds and then surged upward. Hundreds of vines, the smallest as thick as a man’s embrace.

“Argh!”

Some retreating Vikings were engulfed by the massive vines and disappeared.

Crack!

They were crushed between the vines, meeting a miserable end. The swiftly rising green stems were stained red in patches.

Those who were caught but not fully pulled in were no better off.

“Ahh…”

They had been lifted dozens of meters into the air in an instant. Some fell to their deaths as the rapidly growing vines pushed them off.

“Help me!”

Some managed to grab the stems and dangle desperately, but unfortunately their hands were slippery with sweat.

“Noooo!”

In the end, the stems slipped from their grasp and they plummeted.

When all growth was complete, the Viking coalition’s rear was completely sealed by the massive vines. Their retreat path was entirely cut off.

“Haah…”

Exhausted, Valda collapsed to the ground.

“What say you, my husband?”

Drenched in sweat, sitting in an M-shape, looking up at him.

At her adorable appearance, Eugene was speechless. Normally quick-witted in these matters, he couldn’t think of any praise adequate.

“Our mage has trapped them! Keep pushing!”

“Chief! Wh-what do we do now?”

Below, the battlefield was covered in ecstasy and despair.