Chapter 145 - Hunting Season

What are these guys?

Pin only blinked.

She thought back to the previous fight, the one before they came to the battlefield, when she had fought alongside Encrid and that Border Guard soldier, Toris or was it Toros?

It had been fierce.

It had been intense.

She had fought with all her might too.

And she had barely survived.

'If these guys had been there, wouldn't they have just sliced right through?'

It felt like they would have.

The three men wearing chain mail were experts in combat.

They all used blunt weapons; one had a hammer, another a morningstar, and the last used a long staff with an iron weight fixed to the end.

All of them were troublesome opponents.

Above all, they were not slow despite carrying weapons like that.

'If it were me.'

She felt like even one of the three would have been hard to handle.

They were a bad matchup for Pin herself too.

With weapons like that, even if she got in close and stabbed them with a dagger, they seemed like they would endure it.

Judging by the thick gambeson they wore under the chain mail, she would have to drive in at least more than half of a shortsword.

Would they even give her an opening for that?

And say an opening did appear, then what?

Would the guy getting stabbed just stand there and watch in the meantime?

He would smash her head with a hammer or morningstar or something.

Then her head would burst.

If her head burst, she would die.

She had no confidence at all.

And her allies were toying with three enemy soldiers like that.

"Brother, it is time to go."

The fanatical soldier, steeped in religion and who called upon the Lord more than most priests, closed the distance against the soldier holding the morningstar and punched him in the head.

'Didn't they say he was a master of the Balaf Style Combat Technique?'

He did not look like that at all.

The fanatical soldier simply overpowered his opponent with strength.

The soldier with the morningstar was struck in the head as he swung his weapon, and it did hit the fanatical soldier's forearm, but...

Even though he was not properly wearing armor, that forearm did not seem to have so much as a scratch.

It would be something to check later, but at least on the surface, he looked fine.

THUD.

Even after that sound rang out, the fanatical soldier's body did not waver.

There was not even the common groan of pain.

He merely said what he had to say and did what he had to do.

"Go, to the Lord's side."

The opponent who had been punched in the head staggered.

After that, using his left foot as an axis, the fanatical soldier's waist turned.

Around his huge frame, she had the illusion of a small whirlwind forming.

Then came the foot, extending out with the rotation of his knee and pelvis while his upper body stayed balanced.

It was a high kick to the head.

The moment that one kick struck the enemy's head again...

THUD!

The soldier's eyes popped out.

Even though the blow had struck his helmet, he had failed to withstand the pressure created by the impact.

'Holy shit.'

Pin could not close her hanging mouth.

The other two were similar.

The lunatic holding the axe got angry, then cackled.

"What, you thought wearing something like that meant you wouldn't die?"

His opponent held a long staff.

When the iron-rimmed club at the end came down, he avoided the iron weight at the tip, reached out, caught the shaft just below the head of the staff with his palm, and charged in as if pulling it toward him, striking once with his axe.

It was frighteningly fast.

The flying axe smashed into the opponent's abdomen.

BOOM!

It came with a sound like a leather drum bursting.

CRACKLE!

The axe blade broke through the chain mail and passed through.

The waist of the chain mail cracked and shattered, and blood sprayed.

That was not the end.

The lunatic soldier spun his body in reverse and swung the axe he had extended back into the same spot.

SPLAT!

The second axe blow split through the gap in the broken chain mail again.

It tore more than halfway through the enemy soldier's side.

"Grk!"

Naturally, the opponent died.

Pink intestines spilled across the ground in a heap, and blood gushed out with them.

The enemy dropped to his knees just like that and sprawled on the ground.

The soldier with blond hair and red eyes, who was said to be lazy most of the time, looked more passionate than ever.

CLANG! CLANG!

Twice, he knocked away the hammer that came crashing down with his sword, then drove in a single thrust.

The movement was as natural as flowing water.

As if that sword had originally been meant to sprout from the enemy soldier's belly.

SCHLIK!

The sword pierced halfway through the chain mail and tore into the enemy's cloth armor.

As he shoved the sword in with strength, the opponent brought down the hammer he had pulled back.

From above his head to below, from a blind spot he could not see.

Right before the hammer crushed his head, the lazybones let go of the sword buried in the enemy's body and drew another sword from his waist.

CLANG.

He knocked the hammer away with an upward strike.

The movement was so fast and so lacking in hesitation that even Pin's eyes could not catch it all.

'Just how damn good are these bastards at fighting?'

The sword that had knocked away the hammer struck the opponent's helmet.

Not with the blade, but with the flat.

CLANG!

The enemy soldier who was struck dropped his hammer, clutched his head, staggered, lost his balance, and fell.

Seeing that, the lazybones walked over with quiet steps and stood in front of the enemy soldier.

Then he pushed the sword stuck in his gut even harder.

"D-don't, don't."

GRRRIND, CRACKLE, SHUNK.

How to put it?

Fear surged up, her knees weakened, and goosebumps rose over her skin.

The lazybones forced the sword through until it pierced the enemy soldier and stuck into the ground, then straightened himself.

The soldier, who had lost his hammer and was left holding only his shield, kept shaking his head and tried to hold back the sword being driven into his body, then died crying.

While they disposed of those three skilled men in an instant, there was still something else astonishing.

She wondered if she should even be surprised all over again, but how could she not be surprised by this?

Most of the soldiers who had been watching were dead.

Cause of death: cuts.

She had no idea when he had moved, but the remaining one had been going around cutting the necks of the dazed soldiers.

Not with a longsword, but with a single dagger.

'When was he doing that?'

Pin opened her mouth, carrying all that shock and absurdity.

"What the hell are you guys?"

Krais was right beside her.

Krais opened his mouth with his eyes wide and round.

"I know, right?"

Krais was inwardly soothing himself.

Why had he been nervous?

They fought this well.

The lunatic platoon fought several times better than he had expected.

He had based his judgment on Encrid, but they had surpassed any prediction.

A new question occurred to him all over again.

Just how damn well did those bastards called knights fight?

On top of that, he also gave praise to the one who had first gathered these people into one unit.

'No, the person who sent the Platoon Commander here is the best. That's right.'

These were people who might originally have become a massive explosion spell within the main force, and now they had gathered around Encrid as their center.

"Let's set it on fire, Squad Leader Andrew."

Krais said to Andrew, who had been assigned as his guard.

"Huh? Yeah? What?"

He was as surprised as Pin.

And as he did, his complexion had darkened for a moment before returning to normal.

Somehow, he even looked relieved now.

"I said let's set it on fire."

"If we keep holding out here, the enemy main force will come too."

"You want to face that?"

No, of course not.

They could not let that happen.

"Let's move."

Mac, Andrew, and Pin began striking flint.

Among the supplies were piles of hay meant to be used as horse feed.

Dry grass, perfect for setting on fire.

"Quickly."

Krais urged them on.

There was no need to ask why.

"Fuck, they're monsters!"

"Spare me!"

They had not killed every enemy soldier.

As soon as the enemy was more or less annihilated, the allies let them go.

After all, even if they chased them, they could not kill them all.

"Leave them."

Encrid made that judgment before Krais did.

"Understood."

Rem's answer was proof that they followed Encrid's orders.

Encrid, who had been watching his platoon members start the fire, opened his mouth.

"I think I have some kind of connection with setting fires."

What kind of bullshit was that?

Had he been hit in the head while fighting earlier?

"Excuse me?"

"No, I'm just saying. Let's go."

Flames rose from the trap the enemy had dug.

Now that spring had come, they probably did not need a bonfire this large.

It was merely fire.

A roaring blaze.

The flames rose and announced their presence.

Encrid and the lunatic platoon slipped away like the wind.

After saying that from here they only needed to move in a straight line, Pin, who had been guiding their way out, stuck close to Audin.

"Hey, what did you say your name was again?"

"I am Audin, Sister."

"Is that right? Could I learn a few things from you later?"

Pin seemed to have developed a strange competitive spirit.

Her eyes swept over Audin's arm.

As expected, there was not even a scratch.

This had nothing to do with the Balaf Style Combat Technique.

Pin's eyes took on a strange look mixed with curiosity and competitive spirit.

Encrid paid no mind to what the two did.

Instead, he trained while walking once more.

"You could not use the sense of evasion."

"It is a matter of proficiency."

He had heard Jaxon's words and repeated them to himself.

"Did you say you wanted to use two swords?"

"Do not forget."

"Only when they become more comfortable than my own hands will they be worth using."

There had also been Ragna's assessment.

"Using the heart of the superhuman for the first time back then, well, that was good."

Surprisingly, Rem praised Encrid's personal tactics.

Had it been impressive?

In truth, Encrid did not care.

"You should train, Brother."

"Rolling around is what leaves something behind."

It was just as Audin, who had gone over to glance at Pin, said.

Encrid also thought rolling around was what left something behind.

Though only when he went back, of course.

The thought did occur to him of how long they had to keep moving along this ridge.

The thought that it was about time to pull out.

For that to happen, though, there were still people they had to meet.

Sure enough, two days after they had broken the enemy's trap by force...

The platoon had turned their steps toward the main force because they had to avoid the enemy's persistent pursuit.

They had stopped to rest and were chewing jerky.

TWANG!

An arrow drove into the space between Encrid's group.

To be precise, it had aimed for Rem's head, but Rem dodged with beastlike reflexes.

In an instant, he twisted his body sideways.

He did not avoid it perfectly, so Rem's earlobe was torn, and drops of blood sprayed into the air.

CRUNCH.

With jerky still in his mouth, Rem grinned.

"It's that hawk bastard."

How to put it?

Recently, Rem had looked excited the entire time.

Encrid examined the arrow embedded in the ground.

A short, sturdy arrow.

It was different from before.

"Looks like they came prepared."

"I can't pick up any presence."

Ranger Pin said.

The hawk bastard unit that had originally been harassing their rear had returned to hunt the lunatic platoon.

To be precise, they had caught up behind them.

Of course, naturally, that was what they had been aiming for.

"We're fine, right?"

Pin asked.

Encrid nodded.

This much was part of Krais's plan, and part of what Encrid understood.

From the very beginning, the lunatic platoon's purpose and objective had been clear.

Drawing attention and cleaning up afterward.

Now it was time for the cleanup.

* * *

While the lunatic platoon gnawed away at their forces one by one...

Marcus's main force departed for Cross Guard.

Could they take the city with only this force?

Not a chance.

However, it could still bother them.

In the midst of that, some guerrilla force struck the rear of their allies and drew attention.

Aspen did not have many choices.

Especially as a commander, his practical choices were limited.

"Cross Guard will not fall."

"But because of this, the disgrace that the city was invaded will remain."

"Even if not for this battle, you must send reinforcements for the next one."

"You must wipe out the remaining enemy forces on the detour."

At his staff officer's words, the Aspen commander fell into deep thought.

Several situations became tangled in his mind.

Attack the city?

With only that force?

It would not fall.

It should not fall.

But the fact that Cross Guard was attacked would remain.

It was, in a way, a strange battle of pride.

Because the giant and the spellcraft had all failed, they had been driven into a corner too.

Would he remain as the commander who yielded the Principality's front yard?

'No, that is impossible.'

Even if it did not fall, the fact that it had been attacked would remain.

The words that he had given up the city would remain.

Could he endure with that disgrace on his shoulders?

Or should he use this as an opportunity?

It would be a lie to say he was not troubled.

However, it was a question already leaning to one side.

The Principality had failed with the cards it had prepared.

Naurilia had dug in deeper than before and expanded its territory.

If things hardened as they were, the border between the two nations would change.

'Can I just leave that be?'

If they swept away the enemy unit on the detour...

And if they withstood the attack by Naurilia's remaining forces?

If that happened, then instead, it might become an opportunity to strike them from behind through the detour.

Leaving his position empty by going to Cross Guard could become the worst of bad moves.

He did not know what lunatic was in command, but to gamble here?

Why?

When this was already a battlefield they had won?

Then could this not be called an opportunity?

Just by retreating instead of holding the detour, space had opened for their detached force to move.

"Tch."

The commander, who habitually sucked air between his teeth, spoke.

"Organize the forces around fast-moving units and send them to the detour."

The order fell with the sound of air leaking through the wide gap between his front teeth.

"Yes, sir!"

Soon, the Principality moved.

The adjutant serving in the role of strategist felt ominous.

'If this goes wrong...'

It would not be a matter of the national border simply changing.

The adjutant missed Abnaire.

Aspen's greatest strategist, a great man who, despite his young age, had already made giants and others into military assets.

'What a waste, what a waste.'

That he had ultimately not been given an important post because of his birth.

Of course, it was a pointless thought.

In his eyes, Abnaire was a genius.

He would take care of himself.

"Send knight order members."

If Naurilia had the Red Cape Knight Order, the Principality had the King of Aspen's Knight Order.

The King of Aspen's Knight Order.

Their name might be uninspired, but their skill was another matter.

"Send two, no, three."

Had the commander sensed the same ominous feeling the adjutant had?

The quality of the forces entering the detour rose.

Their quantity rose as well.

If The Claw of the Hawk unit caught those flies pestering the rear, and the rest advanced, including three proto knights?

If it went according to plan, it might become a decisive move that could reverse the current situation.

* * *

"Captain, do you know the difference between a sniper and a hunter?"

That was what Rem said immediately after dodging the arrow.

According to Krais's plan, their job was to deal with that Hawk's Claw or Fingernail or Eyebrow bastard as well.

In that situation, they had used bait to draw him in.

As for the bait, Pin leaving suitable traces was enough.

"These guys are pretty sharp."

"I think we need to be careful."

Pin said.

Even in the midst of that, Rem kept grinning.

Looking at him, Encrid asked blankly.

"Do I need to know?"

"Truth is, you don't, but I wanted to say it."

There were times when Rem was more honest than necessary.

This was one of those times.

As for talking too much, that was always the case.

"A sniper is a bastard who shoots someone from far away, and a hunter is exactly what it sounds like, a bastard who hunts."

So what was the difference?

"Hunting is more fun than just flinging arrows from far away."

"Especially axe hunting, ah, it's fantastic."

So what about it?

When Encrid kept saying that with his eyes...

"I'm saying, while I'm gone, don't go getting hit by some arrow for no reason."

"I'll be back."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going hunting."

"If you receive a gift, you've got to return it, don't you?"

As Rem spoke, he pulled out the arrow stuck in the ground.

The arrow came out with a smooth tug, and Rem tucked it at his waist before trudging into the bushes.

Was it all right to just leave him like that?

It probably was.

To begin with, if he was not confident, he would not have stepped forward.

As for the rest...

"Jaxon?"

He called him with the intention of asking whether he had any thought of going with Rem and performing a duet of ambush and surprise attack.

"I refuse."

Mm, firm.

Yes, that could happen.

Rem would do well on his own.

Encrid decided to believe that.

"We should move in our own way too, shouldn't we?"

Rem was the hunter, and The Claw of the Hawk was the prey.

Then the lunatic platoon was once again The Claw of the Hawk's prey.

Summer would be more fitting, but in any case, people enjoyed hunting in spring too.

So it would be fair enough to call it the season of the hunt.