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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
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Gulp.
The vassals’ gazes, fixed on Bolton, turned icy. Bolton involuntarily took a step back.
His mind must have been racing. He now knew he had been tricked by Joang. The problem was that he couldn’t reveal it.
To admit he had taken advice from Joang, his faction’s greatest rival? The situation would only worsen.
“A mistake, a mistake! I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Would I have even suggested it if I had known? My own neck is on the line!”
All he could do was feign ignorance.
“Hmm…”
“Indeed…”
As his words weren’t entirely untrue, the vassals’ glares softened.
If he had stopped there, I would have let it go. I had no concrete proof of his collusion with Joang. Suspicions alone weren’t enough to oust Bolton, who held the most influence among the vassals.
As their suspicion subsided, Bolton quickly regained his composure and turned on us.
“Honestly, to look at me like a traitor over a simple mistake? Isn’t that a bit much? Especially from those who haven’t contributed a single idea and are just taking up space! That includes you, Sir Allen!”
Wasn’t Bolton the one being unreasonable, shifting the blame after feigning ignorance?
I shook my head.
“I’m disappointed. I was merely offering you a chance to gain merit. I already have a plan to draw the enemy out of the tower.”
“What…?!”
Bolton looked at me incredulously. The other vassals wore similar expressions.
“I’ll challenge their commander to a duel.”
Their faces fell further. Bolton’s expression twisted grotesquely, and the others exchanged awkward glances and forced smiles.
“A duel? Surely you’re not thinking of ending the war with a duel like in those storybooks? Honestly, do you think war is child’s play?”
Duels were typically only accepted in small skirmishes, when the horses were too exhausted to flee. While there were exceptions, they were just that exceptions.
“Sir Powell, who’s holed up in the tower because he’s too cowardly to face us, won’t accept a duel.”
“Who would? He’s not known for his skill, so he’ll obviously avoid a direct confrontation.”
The other vassals agreed with Bolton. As expected, suspicion alone wasn’t enough to break their alliance.
“Then we’ll make him accept.”
“What? How…?”
I didn’t answer and left the command tent. I mounted my horse and rode towards the tower.
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“H-Hey…!”
“Sir Knight! It’s dangerous! Come back!”
The vassals hurriedly gathered their troops and followed, but they stopped when arrows fired from the tower landed before them.
Meanwhile, I reached the tower and yelled at the enemy soldiers lined up above,
“I am Allen Tolbatz! By the right bestowed upon me by the Lord, I’ve come to avenge my father, who was killed by your hand! Is there anyone brave enough to stop me from exercising my right?!”
“Is he seriously challenging us to a duel? Is he insane?”
“Who would accept? What reason do we have to accept a duel?”
The enemy soldiers looked at each other incredulously. Powell Osborne emerged from among them. He, too, wore a bewildered expression.
“Sir Allen, shouldn’t you pay the ransom and retrieve Lord Maxim’s remains before talking about revenge?”
He shrugged and looked at his soldiers, as if seeking their agreement. They responded with loud laughter.
“How dare you insult me!”
Honestly, I would have laughed too. Despite my inner thoughts, I feigned anger and dismounted, picking up a nearby stone.
Powell Osborne and his soldiers continued to laugh, mocking me for thinking I could do anything with a mere stone against a three-story tower.
Their laughter didn’t last long.
Bang!
The stone, launched like a projectile, struck the soldier who had been laughing the loudest square in the face.
With a sound like an explosion, his face turned into a bloody pulp. His headless body collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.
The soldier who had been laughing alongside him slowly turned his head to look down at me, his face covered in his comrade’s blood and brains.
“Agh!”
He reached up to wipe the gore from his face. It was the last thing he ever did.
Bang!
Another head exploded. The stone I had thrown next followed its predecessor.
“H-He’s insane!”
“Arrows! Fire!”
Powell Osborne drew his sword and yelled at his panicked soldiers. Arrows rained down from the tower.
There weren’t many. In a world where even maintaining a standing army was a struggle, few lords could afford a specialized unit like archers.
The Baron’s archers were nothing more than hunters and forest rangers from the surrounding villages.
In exchange for hunting small game like rabbits in the lord’s forest, they were obligated to serve as archers in times of war.
Moreover, I possessed the ability to perceive the world in slow motion. I took a step diagonally, and the arrows struck the ground around me, none making contact.
Unless they were a volley of arrows that blotted out the sun, they couldn’t touch me.
“What the…!”
Of course, the enemy didn’t know this. To them, it must have looked like the arrows were avoiding me.
I threw a stone at the soldier who had spoken first. Not entirely foolish, he immediately raised his shield to protect his face.
However, the force behind the stone shattered the shield, and the remaining momentum turned the soldier’s face into a pincushion.
“Ugh…”
The soldier fell from the ramparts. I glanced at the corpse, its neck twisted at an unnatural angle, and looked up.
“Are you ready to apologize now?”
“Arrows! Keep firing!”
Powell Osborne’s response was to urge his soldiers on. The soldiers, their faces etched with fear, fired another volley. Their fear turned into terror as I easily dodged them again.
“A-A demon! He must be a demon!”
The sight of arrows seemingly avoiding me was reminiscent of a demon. The word “demon” spread among the soldiers like a plague, their morale plummeting visibly.
Seeing this, Powell Osborne raised his voice.
“Anyone who utters such nonsense will die by my sword! He’s just a human! A human with a bit of luck! Keep firing! Keep…!”
But no more arrows came. As I pretended to throw another stone, the soldiers all ducked behind the ramparts.
One of them, unable to contain his curiosity, peeked over the edge, only to have his head turned into a bloody mess by my stone. The others hid even further after witnessing his fate.
The only one who remained visible was Powell Osborne. He glared at me, his jaw clenched.
“Why… Why aren’t you throwing at me?!”
“Didn’t you demand a ransom for my father? I don’t have any money, so I have to earn some.”
“What does that have to do with…”
“Does the Fox of the Battlefield not know the most profitable aspect of war?”
Powell Osborne looked at me as if he had a suspicion. I grinned and raised a stone.
“If you don’t accept my duel, I’ll keep throwing.”
The most profitable aspect of war was ransom. The ransom for a king could be enough to buy a city. Powell Osborne, as Baron Debussy’s son-in-law, would fetch a hefty price.
“You… You have no honor!”
“A coward who avoids duels dares speak of honor?”
“You dishonorable…!”
Powell Osborne’s face turned red as he yelled, but he fell silent when the stone I threw crumbled a section of the seemingly sturdy ramparts.
“So, are you going to accept or not?”
I asked, tossing a stone in the air and catching it repeatedly. Even I thought I was being a scoundrel. Just as Powell Osborne trembled with rage,
“Sir Powell! Send me! I’ll break that shameless cur’s nose!”
There was a commotion inside the tower, and a knight emerged from the side gate. I had briefly seen his face during the earlier parley.
I pulled on the reins and slowly retreated.
“I wanted Sir Powell.”
“How could a commander accept a duel! I, Entre’s Jant, am more than a match for you! Though I doubt it’ll happen, if you win, my family will pay a hefty ransom, so you won’t be able to refuse my challenge!”
There was no reason to refuse. My goal was to draw the enemy out of the tower and weaken their knightly forces.
“I hope you keep your word.”
We faced each other between the two armies, our swords pointed at each other, circling warily. Our narrowed eyes searched for an opening. I chuckled.
“You were so eager to fight when you had your sword drawn.”
“You…!”
He charged. His easy provocation and his overly aggressive, telegraphed movements suggested he lacked experience. He wasn’t very skilled either.
Conversely, I used minimal movement, my sword swings precise and efficient. This wasn’t a duel to showcase my monstrous strength; doing so would only scare the enemy knights into avoiding duels, which would be detrimental to my plans.
After all, a sword was a sword, whether wielded with full force or not. A stab was a stab. Moreover, holding back didn’t mean I was weaker than him.
Clang!
Sparks flew as our swords met. With a sharp clang, his sword was deflected upwards, opening his guard. He stared at me in disbelief, having been pushed back despite using his full strength. He was clearly a greenhorn.
Thanks to not using my full strength, I could move quickly for my next attack. I closed the distance and swung my elbow, breaking his nose and sending blood spurting from his nostrils.
He should consider himself lucky. If I had used my full strength, his head would have been obliterated like the soldiers before him.
“Ugh.”
He stumbled back and fell to one knee. I slowly approached and placed my sword at his throat.
“Surrender. Or die.”
He glared at me defiantly, then lowered his head, his grip loosening on his sword, which clattered to the ground. His earlier arrogance had vanished like the wind.
“I surrender.”
“Entre’s Jant is now my prisoner. According to custom, I shall treat you as a guest until your ransom is paid.”
I bound him with the rope I had prepared and made him kneel beside my horse. Then, I walked back towards the tower.
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The enemy soldiers, who had been peeking over the edge, quickly ducked back down. Powell Osborne’s face was crumpled like a piece of paper.
I shrugged, holding up my hands.
“Sending out inexperienced youngsters while you hide safely in the tower? Is this your idea of honor?”
“You…!”
Before Powell Osborne could respond, the side gate opened. A fully armored knight emerged, wielding a heater shield in one hand and a warhammer in the other. He pointed the spike at the end of his hammer at me and yelled,
“I, Ott’s Balm, will prove that there are still knights who value honor under Baron Debussy!”
He charged without waiting for my response. Unlike Jant, he was utterly disrespectful.
I hated those who were disrespectful and didn’t know their place. This time, I would use my full strength.
‘This is the last one, anyway.’
Powell Osborne wasn’t foolish enough to repeat the same mistake thrice. There was no need to hide my strength any longer.
The disrespectful fool raised his shield, intending to deflect my attack and counter with his warhammer.
Smirk.
He hadn’t grasped the extent of my strength, even after witnessing me obliterate soldiers’ faces with mere stones.
Bang!
The moment my sword struck his shield, it shattered like an exploding bomb. The knight’s hand holding the shield fared no better. I felt a snapping sensation as his arm went limp.
“Ugh.”
His face contorted in pain. However, he still tried to swing his warhammer. He wasn’t entirely without merit.
I raised my foot and kicked him in the stomach. He flew backwards, as if weightless, despite his large build and heavy armor.
“Gah.”
He clutched his stomach and retched until my sword was at his throat. He looked up at me and yelled,
“I’ll pay a ransom!”
Regardless, my sword grazed his throat, leaving a long, bloody gash.
He clutched the wound, even though he knew it was futile, and looked up at me.
“Why…?”
His disbelieving expression seemed to ask, “Didn’t you need the money?” I wiped the blood from my sword and replied,
“You should have shown some respect if you wanted to live.”
“For such a trivial reason…”
He sighed, his head slumping as he died. Leaving the disrespectful corpse behind, I continued towards the tower.
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Two knights had been defeated in quick succession. The atmosphere in the tower was as somber as a funeral. While they still outnumbered us in knights and had twice as many soldiers, they seemed defeated.
Powell Osborne looked down at me, his face devoid of emotion.
“Sir Powell, how long are you going to hide behind your knights?”
“Do you think I’d fall for such a pathetic provocation?”
“You can’t keep hiding in the tower like a rat forever. Do you think you can stop us from building a siege ramp?”
With my covering fire, the tower guards wouldn’t dare show their faces to obstruct the construction. Once the ramp was higher than the tower, the terrain advantage would be reversed.
Of course, building a siege ramp was a time-consuming process, something I, on the verge of bankruptcy, couldn’t afford, but…
‘Powell Osborne doesn’t know that.’
Powell Osborne glared at me, then turned away. There was a commotion inside the tower, and finally, the main gate opened. The enemy soldiers who had been hiding inside began to emerge.
I returned to my camp before they could form ranks. The vassals, who had mocked me for suggesting a duel, stared at me, their mouths and eyes wide with disbelief.
The hundred or so soldiers reacted similarly. One of them muttered,
“How could he open the gate with just three stones?”
It wouldn’t be long before the soldier’s casual remark became a rumor that followed my name.
While it was just a small tower gate, not the gate of a castle, rumors tended to be exaggerated.
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Brute force win brotha, I cannot wait for another monstrous club action tho this war might took so long🤣
