Chapter 407

Thud, thud, thud!

Covered in dust, Marquis Rodrick wore a look of rage as he fled on horseback.

“Ugh... How could this happen to me, the future king of this kingdom! To be humiliated like this, running away with my tail between my legs!”

He still felt as if he were trapped in a nightmare. Where had his once-mighty army, which had shaken the earth, vanished? He couldn’t fathom how they had fought, let alone how they had been so thoroughly defeated.

“You fools! Idiots! How could we lose so many soldiers without putting up a proper fight?”

Even as he retreated, Rodrick berated his commanders, his voice dripping with disdain. Tenant, riding beside him, remained silent, knowing full well that most of their failed strategies had been his own design.

Yet their defeat wasn’t entirely his fault—it was largely due to Marquis Rodrick’s impatience, which had left no time for careful planning. Ultimately, the gap in competence between Rodrick’s retainers and Fenris’s leaders had sealed their fate.

“Useless scum! How could we lose so miserably to those nobodies?”

Rodrick’s continued tirade elicited bitter expressions from his remaining retainers. They bore his abuse in silence, understanding that their master was far from the strong, composed leader the situation demanded.

Leaving the mages behind and relying solely on cavalry had allowed them to gain significant distance. Even Ferdium’s cavalry, who had been chasing them, seemed to have given up the pursuit.

Tenant pulled his horse to a halt and addressed the Marquis.

“We’ll rest briefly before continuing.”

“Do whatever you want.”

“Please endure the discomfort for a little while longer, Marquis. Even with just 5,000 soldiers remaining, the Royalist faction will welcome you with open arms. They are desperate for allies right now.”

“Five thousand... only five thousand.” Rodrick slumped in his saddle, his face haggard and pale. The weight of reality seemed to drain the last vestiges of his will.

Without supplies or proper provisions, resting meant little more than collapsing onto the ground.

Rodrick muttered weakly, “I’m hungry. Bring me something to eat.”

Tenant hesitated. “...”

“What are you waiting for? Get me food!”

“We didn’t bring any provisions with us.”

“What? You mean to tell me I’m to starve all the way to the capital?”

“Once we leave Fenris territory, I plan to request supplies from the nearby lords.”

Rodrick’s face twisted in fury. “You useless fools! How could you fail so miserably?”

For Rodrick, who prided himself on his refined tastes, food was one of life’s greatest pleasures. Now reduced to scrounging for survival, his humiliation boiled over.

“At least fetch me some water!”

Thankfully, water was something the soldiers always carried in their packs, and a pouch was quickly handed to the Marquis.

“Bleh!” Rodrick spat out the water, gagging. Accustomed to magically purified water, the rough, unfiltered taste was unbearable.

“Even water isn’t fit to drink! How have I managed to run this domain with such incompetent idiots?” he shouted, hurling the water pouch away in disgust.

The retainers’ faces darkened as they bore his abuse.

Having vented his frustration, Rodrick sighed and looked up. Something in the sky caught his eye.

“A crow? How ominous.”

A black crow circled above them, drawing the attention of the others. They all looked up.

“Idiot!”

Rodrick froze. “Did that crow just... insult me?”

His already simmering anger boiled over. The idea of being insulted by a bird was too much for the Marquis to bear.

“Surely not,” one retainer said hesitantly. “It must have been a trick of the wind.”

“A crow can’t speak, my lord,” another reassured him. “We must have misheard.”

But Rodrick wasn’t satisfied. “We all heard the same thing! If it wasn’t the crow, then who dared insult me? Was it you?” He glared at a random soldier.

“N-no, my lord!”

“Then who? I’ll have them all killed!”

At this point, any semblance of composure or dignity Rodrick once had was gone. His erratic behavior only served to further erode the morale of his troops. Even Tenant, who had been trying to stay focused, looked away in disgust.

That’s when he noticed something unusual in the distance.

“Dust...”

It was faint and far off, but Tenant, one of the western region’s most skilled commanders, immediately sensed that it wasn’t natural. He crouched down, pressing his ear to the ground, and focused his mana.

Thud, thud, thud...

The faint tremor of hooves echoed in the earth. Tenant shot to his feet, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“It’s not the direction we came from.”

This couldn’t be the Ferdium cavalry—they wouldn’t appear from that direction. Which meant...

“Everyone mount up! Move now! Enemies are approaching!”

The urgency in Tenant’s voice had the knights and cavalry scrambling back onto their horses.

Rodrick was forced onto his mount as well. “What’s going on? I don’t see anything!”

“Enemies are closing in, my lord!”

“But there’s nothing there! Are you blind? I see nothing!”

“We must move now!” Tenant barked.

Rodrick’s protests were cut short when his soldiers gasped in unison.

“Look!”

“It’s Fenris!”

“The Fenris cavalry is here!”

The approaching riders carried the banner of Fenris, their ranks moving with frightening precision and speed.

“Push forward with all your strength! We can still escape!”

The sight of those flags turned the Rodrick soldiers pale.

“How are they here...”

“When did they set up this ambush!”

While confusion gripped the Rodrick forces, a loud voice boomed from the mercenary side.

“Fire!”

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Thousands of arrows rained down on the Rodrick soldiers.

“Aaargh!”

“Run forward!”

“We must break through the canyon!”

Trapped in the narrow canyon, evading the arrows became nearly impossible. With no choice but to abandon any counterattack, the Rodrick forces began a desperate sprint.

“Move! Run faster!”

Tenant dragged a stunned Rodrick along, shouting himself hoarse. If they didn’t make it out of the canyon soon, total annihilation was inevitable.

“Grit your teeth!”

Tenant’s eyes darted ahead. The canyon exit had steep paths from which more mercenaries poured down to block their escape.

Leading the charge was the Drake Mercenary Corps from the western regions.

“Kill Marquis Rodrick!”

The Drake Mercenary Corps’s leader, Dominic, roared, his voice echoing through the canyon.

“Waaaaah!”

The mercenaries charged toward the retreating Rodrick forces, shouting war cries that reverberated like thunder. Tenant unsheathed his sword and shouted back.

“Break through!”

Fighting was out of the question. In this narrow canyon, engaging in battle would only spell disaster. If they hesitated, Marquis Rodrick would certainly be killed.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Tenant’s reputation as the finest swordsman in the western regions was well-earned. His blade cut through the mercenaries blocking their path. Mounted on horseback, his skill with a lance was unparalleled.

Rodrick and a handful of his retainers clung to his lead, following him desperately.

“Marquis Rodrick!”

Dominic’s voice roared again as he pursued, his eyes blazing with fury. But he was blocked by Rodrick’s remaining guards and soldiers.

“Out of the way!”

Boom! Crash! Clang!

Dominic’s strength had grown significantly after his alliance with Ghislain. Using advanced mana techniques and training with rune stones, his power now exceeded what it had been before.

He cut down Rodrick’s knights and soldiers with ease, his strikes fueled by a burning vengeance.

“It’s time to avenge our brothers!” Dominic bellowed.

The Drake Mercenaries echoed his cry.

“Avenge our brothers!”

Their voices shook the canyon, a deafening chorus of rage and resolve. Even Rodrick, in the midst of his escape, couldn’t avoid hearing it.

“Those filthy, wretched mercenaries dare chase me!”

Ironically, the Drake Mercenaries were the very reason this war had started, giving Rodrick his justification for the campaign. Yet now, being hunted by those same mercenaries was enough to drive him mad.

“Tenant! Tenant! Are you telling me we must flee from these lowly dogs?”

Tenant did not reply. His focus remained on finding a way out of the canyon alive.

“Tenant! Kill them at once!”

Rodrick’s shouting continued until Tenant’s face twisted in rage. Without warning, he turned and hurled his sword.

Thunk!

“Hiiik!”

Rodrick flinched, nearly falling off his horse. The sword had struck a knight riding beside him—a knight who had been attempting to stab Rodrick in the back.

“Gah...”

With his neck nearly severed, the knight tumbled from his horse, dead.

Tenant yanked his reins, his voice cold and firm.

“Focus on escaping, Marquis.”

“Y-yes...” Rodrick stammered, his bravado deflated. The attempted betrayal had shaken him to his core, forcing him to acknowledge the precariousness of his position.

Thud, thud, thud!

Thanks to Tenant’s exceptional leadership, the vanguard of the Rodrick forces managed to escape the canyon.

But behind them, the screams of the remaining soldiers echoed without end.

“Aaaaagh!”

“Spare me!”

“I surrender! Please!”

The Drake Mercenaries, driven by rage, showed no mercy. The rear ranks of the Rodrick army were obliterated, their cries silenced one by one.

“Marquis Rodrick!”

Dominic’s voice roared once more as he pursued, relentless in his determination to kill the Marquis. The Drake Mercenaries followed close behind, their bloodlust palpable.

Tenant ignored it all, focused solely on getting Rodrick out alive. The Marquis, pale and drenched in sweat, followed silently, his spirit thoroughly broken.

But their escape was short-lived. As soon as they exited the canyon, they were forced to stop.

Before them stood another army, its ranks stretching across the plains, forming an impenetrable wall.

Tenant’s eyes narrowed as he studied the force ahead—easily 10,000 strong. At the front, atop a black steed, sat a man exuding unshakable confidence, his spear resting casually at his side.

Tenant muttered gravely, his heart sinking.

“So he’s already here...”

The man blocking their path was none other than Count Ghislain Fenris, the mightiest warrior of the north.