Chapter 68 - If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them

“Whew...”

Having broken through the defensive formation with three successive charges, Shan drew a deep breath to replenish the stamina he had expended in that sudden burst. The rapid exertion, the fear of death, and the exhilaration of single-handedly dominating the battlefield mingled, leaving his head spinning.

Yet even amid all that, one thing caught his eye. Just ahead was a bearded man staring at him as if spellbound, even as others dragged him away.

The enemy commander, Duke Morayen.

The moment Shan recognized him, he urged his warhorse onward again. The taut, ropelike muscles in Arwin's legs contracted sharply, unleashing an explosive burst of speed.

“You bastard!”

“Stop him! Don't let him reach His Highness!”

As Duke Morayen hurried to safety, the knights and squires guarding him rode between them to intercept Shan. There were roughly twenty of them.

Shan deflected an incoming lance with the holy-relic shield Kamad had left behind and counterattacked. This time, he wielded not the Lance of Blazing Fire he had used to break through the formation, but Heart Destroyer, which Sherin had made for him some time ago.

As he raised the lance and thrust, an opponent watching from the side cried out in shock.

“Did it just get longer...?!”

Over the past few months, busy as she was, Sherin had never neglected her experiments to transfer the abilities of A Thousand Forms to Shan's magical devices. As a result, his lance, which previously possessed only durability and the ability to restore itself, could now lengthen and shorten as well.

This had required consuming the magic stone from the greater vampire they had killed, and it was slower than A Thousand Forms. Even so, a lance that could extend and contract in combat offered an enormous advantage. Simply extending as he thrust and shortening as he withdrew nearly doubled the lancehead's relative speed.

“Aaargh!”

“Guh...”

Twenty to one against seasoned knights and squires—a situation beyond dangerous, bordering on hopeless.

Yet Shan held his ground, batting aside lethal attacks with his shield and letting those he could not deflect slide off the curved surfaces of his armor. Every time the lance in his right hand flexed like a snake, lengthening and shortening, another horseman before him lost his life.

Arwin, too, stepped diagonally or backed away, doing everything she could to keep herself and her rider from being surrounded on all sides. Another horse crashed into her and made her stagger, but despite her anger, she did not lash out. She followed her master's guidance.

Watching this, the knights and squires surrounding Shan all found themselves thinking the same thing.

'Is this fellow truly human?'

One knight taking on twenty mounted men, themselves seasoned knights and squires? Even after a lifetime honing their martial skills, they could scarcely imagine such a feat. To think a knight like this actually existed!

Intimidated by his overwhelming presence, they faltered, creating a small opening. Shan's cavalry, who had forced their way through the breach he had made in the infantry formation, seized that opportunity and charged.

“Help Sir Shan!”

Yurk, Baron Rugen, shouted at the top of his lungs and led the charge, running an enemy knight and a squire through with a spirit-laden lance. The knights and squires following him swiftly surrounded the enemy horsemen and thrust their lances at them.

In a clash between cavalry, the side with momentum held the advantage. With roughly twice the numbers as well, the outcome was decided in an instant.

“Guh...”

“M-my lord!”

“Save yourself, at least! Urk—”

In moments, more than a dozen men were either impaled and killed or knocked to the ground by the force of the charge. Only a handful managed to escape alive. Even Libert's seasoned knights had no way to stand against such circumstances.

Meanwhile, freed from the encirclement by his companions, Shan saw that Duke Morayen and his retainers had mounted their horses and escaped to the infantry. The scattered horsemen had gathered around him as well, making another attempt on him unlikely to succeed.

'If he'd dawdled just a few seconds longer, I could have caught him...'

Clicking his tongue softly, Shan gave fresh orders to the companions who had shattered the enemy cavalry.

“Change of plan! We'll circle around and attack the enemy infantry on our way back!”

“Yes, sir!”

Knights were, by nature, a type of soldier that sacrificed endurance for tremendous explosive power. The squires, who had yet to awaken their spirit, might still have strength to spare, but the knights who had used theirs to break through the infantry and assault the enemy knights were surely quite spent.

At Shan's command, the cavalry once more became a single lance with him as its point and galloped onward.

Their target this time was the exposed enemy archers. With most of the spearmen and cavalry moving to protect the duke, the archers had been left inadequately guarded. Shan's cavalry struck precisely at that weakness and broke through.

“C-captain! Cavalry behind us!”

“Everyone, run!”

“Aaaaargh!”

The archers, who had been busily loosing arrows at the walls, collapsed completely under the cavalry attack from behind.

“Ha ha ha!”

“Kill them all!”

The knights and squires whose lances had broken in the previous charge slaughtered the defenseless archers with swords, axes, and maces. Armed with little more than short swords or clubs, the archers could not even attempt to resist.

At the head of the column, Shan hung even his shield at his side, shortened his lance, and gripped it in both hands, stabbing left and right. Those lucky enough to avoid a fatal thrust, or who ducked to evade him, died with their heads or chests crushed beneath Arwin's hooves.

After trampling nearly half the densely packed force of more than two hundred archers in an instant, the cavalry rode straight to the walls. Soldiers watching through the secret gate quickly opened it and lowered the drawbridge, giving them a way back in.

Naturally, by then the infantry assault up the ladders near the main gate had already stopped. With their main force under threat, they could hardly remain on the walls trying to seize them.

Silence settled over the battlefield that had been so clamorous only moments before.

* * *

Shan and his cavalry returned to a torrent of applause and cheers from those waiting inside the walls. The knights, seated on their exhausted, panting horses, wore satisfied smiles despite being half spent themselves.

A single band of cavalry had torn through the enemy ranks and driven back the besiegers. Was that not the very stuff of heroic tales? In Pendia, where opportunities to earn distinction in war were scarce, they had accomplished a feat they could proudly boast of to their children. How could they not rejoice?

But Shan, the knight who had accomplished the most, did not grin and bask in the praise. His first priority was to check the cavalry's casualties.

A head count revealed that their number had fallen by six, from forty-one to thirty-five. They had suffered almost no losses while engaging the cavalry or attacking the archers. The missing men were those who had failed to clear the infantry encirclement in the initial breakthrough and had been brought down.

“All the knights have returned safely. Only squires failed to return...”

One knight cautiously added that Shan's squire Tavera was among them. Biko, who had become a squire alongside Tavera, bowed his head dejectedly.

“I'm sorry, Sir Shan. I saw Tavera fall from his horse. I should have helped him...”

“It's all right. There was nothing you could do in that situation.”

“Don't worry too much. If he's still alive, they'll have taken him prisoner. We should be able to ransom him back.”

Seeing Shan comfort his squire with a darkened expression, Yurk offered those words of encouragement. Of course, that assumed Tavera had not broken his neck in the fall or been killed by angry infantrymen, but he saw no need to mention that.

“Fetch the priests first. Have them treat the wounded.”

“Are you all right, Sir Shan?”

“I'm fine. Only my armor took some damage.”

Kamad's armor, which Shan wore, was a wreck, scratched and punctured all over. Even he could not fight twenty mounted men, including several seasoned knights, without taking a single hit.

Yet by turning aside every attack to minimize its damage, he had escaped with nothing worse than minor grazes. Of course, without the armor, those spirit-laden lances would have torn him apart.

“That's all he suffered, even after leading the breakthrough?”

“Honestly, I can't even feel inferior anymore...”

“He may be Altoan, but he's a knight sent by the Goddess. He's not someone the likes of us can compete with.”

Having inspired awe and a measure of despair in the other knights, Shan handed Arwin's reins to Biko and climbed onto the walls. Her exertion had been brief but intense. She would need a good meal and rest before she could run again.

'Ah... '

The knowledge that his squire had fallen during the charge left Shan with a strange tightness in his chest. Should he have stayed farther back to look after them?

No. If he had, they would never have broken through the encirclement in the first place. Just as they killed their enemies, they had no choice but to accept deaths among their own. He understood now that this was war.

Still, childish as he knew it was, Shan did not want to lose anyone who belonged to him. He wanted to grow stronger and protect them all from harm, even if that meant slaughtering tens of thousands of enemies alone.

With these thoughts in mind, he reached the top of the wall and found Roden busy dealing with the aftermath. There was much to do during the lull: sending wounded soldiers down from the walls, replenishing depleted supplies, and more.

At the sight of Shan, Roden's expression stiffened.

“I'm sorry, Sir Shan.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I saw what happened outside. The enemy saw through my shallow scheme... Thank goodness your prowess carried you through. My presumptuous plan nearly put my own lord in danger.”

Watching the cavalry become surrounded by enemy infantry from atop the wall, Roden had felt his heart all but stop. Not even a blade thrust right before his face had filled him with such despair and terror. Had Shan failed to break through swiftly, at least a third of the charging knights would have been killed or wounded. With poor luck, they might have been wiped out entirely.

“Oh, is that all? Forget it. I was the one who made the decision... More importantly, how did things go up on the walls?”

When Shan passed over the failed plan without a word of criticism, Roden cleared his throat lightly.

“To be honest, they pushed us back rather farther than I expected. If Ravana and her followers hadn't taken the lead in directing the defense, I believe we would have lost the walls.”

“It was that bad?”

“Yes. A first battle seems to place men under even greater pressure than I'd imagined. Still, now that they've gained some experience, I hope they'll do better next time.”

Even on their first monster hunt, people often froze and found themselves unable to do anything. Once they succeeded with someone helping at their side, they generally began to get used to it.

Fortunately, they had all been fairly thoroughly armored, so although many were wounded, relatively few had died. Roughly thirty were dead, with about twice that number seriously injured. The enemy's losses were estimated at more than double theirs. Indeed, bodies of men who had died before reaching the top lay piled in heaps beneath the walls.

“Their losses are much greater than ours, so they're likely to settle in for a prolonged...”

“A messenger is coming!”

Someone shouted behind them as Roden was offering his assessment. Just as the voice said, a knight carrying a white flag was approaching from Duke Morayen's camp. He was not Conrad's knight, who had provoked them before the battle, but someone else.

He raised his voice toward the walls.

“The Duke of Morayen, Regent to the King of Libert, proposes talks with Sir Shan Barendil!”

* * *

“Horrific.”

Having learned the precise extent of the losses following Shan's cavalry charge, one of the duke's vassals murmured under his breath. No one rebuked him for speaking in a way that would lower morale. The losses really were that horrific.

“Casualties of seven knights, nine squires, twenty-one heavy infantrymen, and a hundred and fourteen archers...”

Of course, a considerable number were merely badly wounded, but they were equally unable to fight for the time being. Roughly one-seventh of their thousand-strong army had been incapacitated by a single cavalry charge.

What left them dumbfounded was that they had suffered so much despite anticipating the attack—and that their own leader, Duke Morayen, would have fallen too had they moved even a little less swiftly.

“And casualties from the siege itself are nearly two hundred. I hate to admit it, but this battle is already lost.”

Given that the enemy's main force consisted of inexperienced soldiers, they could attempt another assault. But then that monstrous knight would come charging at them again. With nearly half their force already dead or wounded, another blow like that would truly finish them.

Duke Morayen listened to his vassals' discussion with an expressionless face, then casually asked a question.

“What about that baron Conrad attached to us?”

“He died in the cavalry charge.”

“Good. That gets rid of an inconvenient pair of ears. Propose talks with the other side. I'll go myself.”

“It's dangerous, Your Highness.”

“Even Pendia's followers of the New Faith must know honor. Surely they won't attack during a parley? Above all, tell them that knight must attend. Shan Barendil. One who is like Baren... Whoever chose it, the surname suits him splendidly. He was Emperor Baren reborn.”

“Your Highness...”

His vassals looked uncomfortable at such praise for an enemy knight, and one of the devil's race who had betrayed the Goddess at that.

But the duke paid them no heed and demanded that they propose talks at once. Knowing how impossibly stubborn their lord could be, they finally sent a messenger. Before long, a reply came agreeing to meet before the walls.

* * *

Before the walls, the leaders of the two camps faced each other, each accompanied by five knights as guards. Duke Morayen introduced himself first.

“I am Savante Lagos Ion Armando, son of Lagos, King of Libert, and Duke of Morayen.”

Just as Pendia had House Hasra, Libert had House Armando. In truth, they had once been called an imperial house rather than a royal one. They were the direct descendants of Baren Armando, founder of the Arman Empire, and had inherited his surname.

Even now, Libert's royals consequently behaved as though they were a rank above the royal families of other nations. They were the direct line, after all, while the others were merely collateral branches.

“I am Shan Barendil, knight to Princess Sherin, Your Highness. It is an honor to meet you.”

Offering a courteous greeting, Shan studied the enemy commander he was finally seeing up close. Duke Morayen was a handsome man with striking, strongly defined features and a neatly trimmed beard. His hair was black and curly, and the pronounced creases in his eyelids were almost disconcerting.

More disconcerting than his appearance, however, was the lingering gaze he fixed on Shan. It held neither the fear nor the hostility one might feel toward a powerful enemy, but desire, as though he were admiring a beautiful woman or a work of art...

An odd chill ran through Shan, and he involuntarily glanced away. Rather than feeling intimidated, he felt as though he had encountered something unpleasant.

“I'd heard the stories, but it's truly hard to believe. That beautiful knight is such a young boy...”

At the word “beautiful,” the knights accompanying Shan looked at the duke as though wondering whether they had misheard. After a moment's hesitation, Shan could not help asking.

“Did you just call me beautiful?”

“Yes. I saw you. The way you wielded your lance, held your reins, maintained your balance... Every movement followed its proper principles without the slightest deviation. Apart from that ill-fitting armor, you were the very ideal all knights aspire to.”

Shan's eyes widened involuntarily in surprise. This was the first person other than himself who understood the principles of efficient bodily movement—who could recognize how closely another person's movements adhered to them.

Could the duke possess the same innate gift as he did? Yet the man's movements earlier had been as ordinary as anyone else's.

As Shan wondered, Duke Morayen abruptly launched into a lengthy exposition of his philosophy of beauty. Most people praised the beauty of people, animals, or scenery, he said, but he pursued the beauty of function instead.

“A well-crafted sword and armor, a swift warhorse, an army that faithfully obeys orders and braves even death... I desire and admire them all. But today, here, I experienced true beauty. You. You were the most ideal, most beautiful embodiment of a knight. Had either you or I been a woman, I would have proposed marriage on the spot.”

Shan was bewildered by the almost mad intensity of the man's clinging gaze and voice. Was he supposed to take this as an expression of goodwill? Judging by the bewildered looks around him, he was not alone in feeling that way.

“Which brings me to my question: would you consider becoming my knight? When I return to Libert and execute Count Valik, I promise you his title. It isn't right for a knight as beautiful as you to have no noble title at all.”

“Your Highness!”

“How can you say something so appalling to a mere Altoan!”

As the duke's vassals cried out in horror, Shan's fellow knights looked disgruntled. They had no intention of giving him away, yet the other side was arguing among themselves over whether to take him. It was offensive.

Momentarily stunned, Shan shook his head.

“I shall pretend I didn't hear that. Is that all you wished to propose?”

“... Ah, you refuse? A pity, but it can't be helped. Winning a beauty is never easy. As for another proposal, how about an exchange of prisoners? I understand you've captured quite a few of our men who reached the walls. We can exchange them for those taken during your cavalry charge.”

The duke snapped his fingers, and several people emerged from behind his party. They were men who had fallen behind during the cavalry charge.

Shan spotted Tavera among them. He was limping slightly, but his life did not appear to be in danger.

'He's alive.'

As Shan breathed a sigh of relief, Duke Morayen continued.

“Of course, you must have far more prisoners from our side, so a simple exchange would be unfair. I'd like to discuss the details now... How much authority do you possess?”

“Authority?”

“I mean how well your liege, Princess Sherin, treats a knight as powerful as you. Will everything I say here be conveyed to her in full?”

“It will.”

The duke's eyes widened at his unhesitating answer, as though he had never imagined the two had built such trust.

“I see. So it goes that far... A shame. I understand you were born in Libert. If only we'd met a little sooner.”

“You knew where I came from?”

Shan had not expected someone as lofty as a duke to know even that. At his startled question, the duke smiled.

“You're rather better known in Libert than you think. The Black Lance mentioned you once. He said a black-haired, green-eyed boy would become a stronger warrior than him in about five years. But after seeing you today, I'd say he was wrong. It's only been two or three years since he said that, and you already seem far stronger.”

Apparently, Feonil Alten had been mentioning his name here and there in Libert. Should he be grateful for the unexpected fame?

Meanwhile, the duke muttered that he would never have lost to that traitor Count Valik if only Shan had been there, then that an Altoan knight in Libert was impossible after all. Finally, he came to the point.

“Conrad promised to fight alongside me against Count Valik in the future.”

“In exchange for...?”

“My support in this civil war. As it happened, he was taking Princess Sherin's army rampaging through the northwest quite seriously. He's been losing ground to the combined forces of Elvin and the Kingdom of Luman lately, so he desperately needed my help.”

Conrad was losing ground to Elvin? That was new information. The last Shan had heard, Conrad had been driving him back in a one-sided campaign. Situated at Pendia's northernmost tip, in a domain that was practically an island, they were inevitably slow to receive such news.

Seeing the Pales knights' bewilderment, Duke Morayen grinned.

“My original plan was to win today's battle, seize the momentum to conquer Pales, and build up my strength with it as my base. But after what I saw today, that no longer seems remotely possible. So, why don't we do this instead?”

Duke Morayen's proposal was simple. First, they would end the fighting with a clean exchange of hostages. While the duke's troops withdrew, Shan would return to Pales with everything he had acquired. Duke Morayen would then take control of the power vacuum left in the northwest.

In other words, he would act as a buffer between Conrad and Sherin.

That was the charitable interpretation. Put bluntly, he intended to stab Conrad, who had welcomed him, in the back. How else could one describe being sent to attack an enemy, only to gobble up the very lands that enemy had invaded and settle there himself?

“It's not a bad proposition for you, either. You couldn't manage everything from Pales to here in any case, could you?”

In a sense, Duke Morayen would be keeping Conrad in check on their behalf. Princess Sherin would stretch herself impossibly thin trying to rule the northwest anyway. A fourth faction would be planting itself in territory that should otherwise return to Conrad's control. Conversely, attacking and driving them out would only benefit their enemies.

Of course, it was still rather much to expect that sort of complex political insight from Shan. Pretending to consider the matter seriously, he stole a glance at Roden, who stood respectfully behind him. A moment later, having received his answer through a look, Shan nodded.

“Agreed.”

“Good! We have a deal! I look forward to being good neighbors, Sir Shan!”

The duke clapped Shan on the shoulder and laughed heartily.