Chapter 35

“Get up, you pigs! Enemies.”

Donovan kicked at the mercenaries who had just gotten comfortable. It was an emergency.

“How did the chase party catch up to us already?” The mercenaries all wondered the same thing. It was strange as they had traveled only on mountain trails where horses could not trot on.

“This is strange. Even if they mustered their men right away, it should have taken them at least a couple of days, but they caught up to us already?”

The mercenaries complained as they rummaged through their loads to take out their armor and weapons. They helped each other lace up their armor.

“What do you think, Urich?” Sven came up to Urich and asked. He gripped his double-handed axe as he pressed down his horned helmet.

“They aren’t the guard captain’s troops. Chasing after us from the city should have taken them at least two days to catch up. Also, it’s not like we took our time marching, either. It’s strange that they’re catching up to us, regardless of how hard they were chasing.”

Urich pondered as he brushed his chin. There was no reason for them to be caught up by the city guards already.

“That probably means that the young noble’s little group was already being chased even before they got to that city, and were only half a day, or a day ahead, at max,” Sven said as he glanced at Phillion and Pahell.

“If Phillion knew of the chase party, he would have told us. I don’t think he expected one to be so close behind. Man, this employer is a handful,” Urich laughed as he kicked his tongue.

‘They have about two dozen men, but we’re over fifty.’

They were outnumbering their enemies.

“They’re not idiots, Urich. They are engaging because they think they can beat us,” Sven warned Urich as if he had read his mind. It was never a good idea to underestimate an opponent.

“Yeah, I know. Numbers don’t always win.”

Urich drew his sword as the other mercenaries and guards finished their preparation for the battle. Pahell was the only non-combatant.

“Nock your arrows, they’re within range!” Donovan ordered as he eyed the distance of the enemies. The mercenaries with the bows pulled their bowstring far back.

The enemies were only protected with light armor since their main focus was the pursuit.

“Shoot them!”

The mercenaries released their arrows, weaving through the dense forest.

Thuck!

The arrows struck the trees, failing to hit a single enemy. They hid behind the trees or raised their shields.

“Damn, you see that? They dodged all the arrows. They have some skills. We’re not gonna get to them with our arrows,” Urich said as he spun his axe. The enemies had a special movement to them, showing how experienced they were as warriors.

“Shoot them again!”

The mercenaries released another wave of arrows, but the enemies stayed hidden behind the trees.

“Keep your bows up so they can’t come out of the woods,” Donovan said to the archers.

“Sven down the left, and Donovan down the right! I’m going down the middle. Bachman, you stay with the young noble and keep him safe!” Urich ordered as he raised his sword in each direction. The mercenaries marched forward with their weapons to gain the advantage of surrounding their enemy.

“Follow me, my piggies!”

Urich led the line with a shout. He darted forward with his axe and sword in each of his hands.

“Woahhhhh!”

The enemies faced the mercenaries, and they were soon in a pandemonium of screams and cries.

“Ahhhhh!”

Urich swung his axe and slammed it down on the enemy’s shield. He tried to slice through the enemy’s shield and get all the way into his neck.

Woosh!

A spear whizzed past him in front of his eyes. With a quick twist of his head, Urich dodged the spear. It nearly impaled his head.

“Ugh!”

“Argh!”

Screams came from all sides. Some mercenaries had failed to dodge the launched spears and had a hole punched through their heads.

‘They’re attacking in pairs?’

The enemies were warriors of considerable skill. They fought in pairs, where one held a sword and shield while the other held a spear.

‘When one of them blocks an attack with their shield, the other stabs the enemy with their spear. Their movements are in sync as if they’re a single body.’

Urich repeatedly stepped back to dodge the spear blades.

“Dammit, get the wounded out of there!”

The mercenaries fell back, dragging the wounded to safety. The first clash between the two sides left the mercenaries with a heavy casualty since they were unprepared for this unfamiliar battle tactic.

‘They’re well-trained soldiers. This isn’t something that they came up with overnight.’

The roles of shieldsmen and spearsmen were clear. Even though the mercenaries heavily outnumbered them, they couldn’t find a way through.

“Go around the back! Go around the back and we’ll hit them from both directions!”

The mercenaries ran around to secure both sides of the enemies.

Clunk!

The shieldsmen surrounded the spearsmen to make a circle. It was a highly trained formation movement.

“Ugh!”

The spearsmen thrust their spears out of the circle, stabbing the mercenaries, who fell back injured.

“Archers!”

The mercenaries cried out for ranged support, but it was difficult for the mercenary archers to pick out only the enemies in a chaotic mess of ally and foe. They had only learned how to shoot an arrow out of necessity.

“This is a first,” Urich muttered as he stared at the enemies with his back hunched and shoulders slouched.

“They’ve been trained in the ‘Hedgehog Formation.’ If we dive in without thinking, our loss would be too big even if we were to win,” Donovan said with a groan. Blood was dripping down his neck from the spear wound.

“The Hedgehog...” Urich mumbled as he looked at the solidly packed enemies. The soldiers in formation moved as one body and thrust out the mercenaries.

‘Even if I were to jump in there, I can only see myself getting stabbed to death by their spears.’

Even Urich couldn’t dare to jump into the enemies. That’s how solid the formation was. Even a great warrior like Urich wasn’t immune to a spear in his heart.

“Hey, what are you northerners doing over there? Come help out!” The mercenaries yelled.

Sven and the other northerners were busy doing something behind the mercenaries. They sat in a circle, facing each other, and spun a sword in the air.

Woosh.

The sword twirled in the air and fell to the ground with its tip pointing at one of the northerners.

“Ulgaro says that it is my turn,” the chosen one nodded as he looked around his brothers. They all exchanged their glances.

“I’m on my way to the Fields first, my brothers. It was an honor to fight like this once again, in a body that would have been tumbled in slavery.”

The chosen northerner darted forward with his sword and shield. He shouted his final words, and everyone understood what he meant, even though it was in the northern language.

“To the Field of Swords!!”

The northerner threw himself into the center of the Hedgehog. He leaped between the enemies, unperturbed by the spears that were impaling him as he advanced, and stabbed and shoved the enemies using his sword and shield.

“Keugh!”

Stabbing him in the neck was no use. His bloodshot eyes were locked on the enemies as he swung his sword until the moment his heart stopped beating.

“Go, now! Get them, kill them all!” The mercenaries cried out. The Hedgehog formation was broken by the sacrifice of the northern warrior. In the scramble, the mercenaries who had the number advantage soon gained the upper hand.

Thud.

Only after getting impaled by three spears did the northerner fall to the ground. His eyes were fading into the Field of Swords where Ulgaro, the forefather of the north, was waiting for him.

“This is the way of the north,” Sven said to Urich as he passed by him. Sven and the rest of the northerners pounced at the enemies with their weapons and battle cry.

Even amid harsh conditions, the northerners had retaliated against the Empire for ten years. Physical prowess and strength weren’t their only power, as they had their god who was for the warriors.

‘Lou, the Sun God, speaks of love and mercy.’

That wasn’t the case for the northerners. Their values and virtues were battle and death.

‘The northern god is arrogant and violent.’

Urich remembered Gottval’s words. He was starting to understand what the priest meant.

“Haha,” Urich laughed as he looked at the dead northerner’s eyes. There was no focus in his empty eyes.

“Hmph.”

The smile dropped from Urich’s face as he drew his breath before running toward the enemies. Violence spewed from him as he cut through his enemies.

The table turned in the blink of an eye as the mercenaries slashed at their enemies’ throats in rage. The screams were enough to shake the leaves on the trees.

“Keke, idiots. Do you even know who you’re protecting?” One of the soldiers cackled as he dropped his weapon.

“Hey, tie him up. We’re going to ask him some questions,” Urich said as he walked up to the soldier.

“What are you talking about? I’ll let you live if you tell us everything you know.”

“That young man is... ugh.”

An arrow came out of nowhere, penetrating the mouth of the soldier. Urich turned his head to look at the culprit.

‘Phillion.’

Phillion was the one holding the bow. He looked at Urich.

“Why did you kill him?”

“I thought he was attacking you,” Phillion said casually.

“Attack? I was going to capture him alive.”

Urich narrowed his eyes but didn’t say much else.

The enemies began to flee, and the enraged mercenaries had no intention of keeping them alive. They crushed the skulls of anyone they could catch.

“Huff, huff.”

The battle was over. The mercenaries fell to the ground to catch their breath, with their eyes still burning from the heat of the battle.

“Take care of the bodies.”

After catching their breaths, the mercenaries rose to their feet. They stripped the bodies to collect their loot, then gathered all the dead men in one pile.

“Oil.”

They surrounded the bodies with firewood and covered them with oil. Oil was a necessity for the mercenaries, as cremation was their staple mode of funeral.

“Oh, Lou.”

The mercenaries recited their prayer. They cremated their brothers and their enemies alike since all souls were headed up to Lou, anyway. Everyone was equal before Lou.

“Isn’t it hard to bury all of them individually?”

Urich squatted down and looked at the northerners. Their mode of funeral was burial.

“What’s so hard about it?” Sven shrugged off Urich’s question and continued to dig with his shovel.

Urich observed the northern funeral. They buried the body of their fallen brother along with the armory that he used in this world. There were some mercenaries who smacked their lips at the wasted armory, but they were well aware that Sven would crush their skulls if they tried to take it from the ground.

It took the mercenaries until sundown to finish cleaning up the battle scene. The exhausted mercenaries finally got to have some rest.

“You fought well, I’ll make sure you get your extra pay,” Phillion said, looking at Urich, as he acknowledged his work. Urich stared at his employer.

“Arrest him,” Urich said as he raised his fist. The mercenaries who had been informed by Urich earlier pounced on Phillion and his guards.

“W-what are you doing, Urich! Didn’t you swear on your integrity on the name of Lou?” Phillion yelled. Urich only looked at him with cold eyes.

“You’re the one who broke the promise of integrity first.”

Phillion’s face turned pale at Urich’s words.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here, just give me a chance to explain, Urich.”

Urich didn’t bother to let Phillion finish and waved to his mercenaries. They gathered Phillion and his guards together and put their weapons against their necks. Any silly movement would see their heads fall off.

“You tricked me and my brothers. Now, speak.”

Urich plunged his sword into the ground. He gripped the hilt with locked hands and glared at his employer. It wasn’t as if he had any proof or hard evidence that Phillion lied, but he accused him regardless. Suspicion alone was enough to act on, as evidence was something that could be dragged out of someone with violence and force.

“I don’t know what you’re on about... Master!”

Donovan grabbed Pahell by the back of his head and dragged him out to the rest of his entourage. Pahell, whose face was covered in tears, stared at Phillion.

“S-sir Phillion, do something, please! Let me live, please!” Pahell cried out, and Donovan grinned beside him.

“Sir Phillion, you’d better start talking before your master’s tongue drops to the ground,” Donovan threatened as he dug his fingers into Pahell’s mouth and grabbed his tongue.

“U-ugh!”

Pahell was losing his mind at the taste of metal against his tongue. His crotch was drenched in yellow urine.

“Stop! Please, stop! He is...” n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Phillion stopped for a moment, closed his eyes, then carried on with quivering lips.

“Varca Aneu Porcana. He is the sole and rightful heir to the Porcana Kingdom.”

Donovan let go of Pahell’s tongue with a dumbfounded look.

“R-royalty?”

Pahell, with his tongue now free, exclaimed.

“How insolent! Get on your knees, you bastards! I will personally send you all to the gallows. Ugh!”

Urich booted Pahell in the stomach. It was just a light kick for him, but for Pahell, it felt like he had been struck with a boulder.

“Shut up, I’m talking to Phillion right now. Keep talking, Phillion, before I turn your precious master into a pulp.”