How to Survive as a Knight’s Son – Chapter 54

—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
—————————————————————–

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

 
“Fiore! We need to link up with the remnants of the right flank!”

There were still many enemy soldiers. The only way to turn the tables was to connect with the shattered right flank. This would allow our forces to form a complete encirclement of the enemy.

“Don’t retreat! Stop him!!”

“Gah…!”

Powell Osborne realized this as well. He cut down a retreating soldier. The surrounding soldiers recoiled, their faces etched with shock.

“You will die by my hand if you flee!”

Powell Osborne yelled, pointing his bloodstained sword at them. The still-warm blood served as a potent threat.

Hesitantly, they raised their weapons again and charged towards me.

“Damn it!!”

One of them charged with bloodshot eyes, his sword aimed at my horse.

Whicker!

My horse was clever. It reared up, forcing the soldier back, then moved diagonally, giving me a clear shot.

The soldier involuntarily stepped back. At least he was luckier than his fallen comrades. He died facing the enemy.

“Ugh…”

With barely a whimper of resistance, my sword pierced his body like a knife through tofu. He grasped the blade embedded in his chest, but his hand quickly went limp.

As I pulled my sword free, blood sprayed out like water from a pistol. He collapsed. I left the corpse behind and spurred my horse forward. Another enemy soldier, impatient, thrust his spear at me.

“Hiya!”

I twisted my body to avoid the thrust, then deflected the spear shaft, creating an opening. My horse, clever as ever, surged forward. I rewarded its efforts by decapitating the now-defenseless soldier.

The next soldier lost his sword hand and fell to his knees. My horse, as if reading my mind, stomped on his face with its foreleg. My nameless horse seemed to understand me perfectly.

‘They say horses are intelligent creatures.’

Fiore and the elite mercenaries poured through the gap I had created. The enemy soldiers, having lost their momentum, hesitated, then turned and fled.

Powell Osborne was at the forefront of the retreat. Seeing the battle turn against him, he quickly changed tactics.

“Sir Powell! You were just yelling at your soldiers not to retreat, and now you’re the first to flee! Have you no shame as a knight?!”

Powell Osborne glanced back at me with a sour expression, but he didn’t stop.

Fortunately for him, only a small portion of the enemy forces were retreating due to the chaos of the battlefield.

Most of the enemy soldiers still didn’t understand why they were being pushed back by a smaller force. Trusting in their superior numbers and the favorable terrain, they continued to try and block my path.

“Allen! Should we pursue?!”

Fiore was eager to chase after the fleeing Powell Osborne. Capturing the renowned Fox of the Battlefield would bring her one step closer to the dream she so desperately craved.

“We need to link up with the right flank first!”

The enemy still had superior numbers. If we pursued Powell Osborne and were surrounded, we wouldn’t survive.

Even with my strength, I couldn’t deflect a sword coming from behind.

“Damn it.”

“There will be other opportunities! He won’t retreat this far.”

“He better not!”

Fiore spurred her horse and charged, her frustration finding an outlet in the blood of the enemy soldiers. I stroked my horse’s neck, its breath coming in ragged gasps, and whispered,

“Just a little further. Just a little further.”

As if understanding my words, my horse exhaled and surged forward. At that moment, I felt a connection with my horse, as if we were one.

My horse instinctively dodged and trampled the enemy attacks. I, too, as if the horse were an extension of my own body, stabbed and slashed at the soldiers attacking my horse, clearing a path for us to advance.

It was as if I had become one with my horse, just like Fiore.

Of course, Fiore was even more skilled. Her horse instinctively avoided enemy attacks and exploited openings.

Fiore, taking it a step further, effortlessly cut down enemy soldiers as if she were playing a game. It was as if the enemy were deliberately offering their necks.

“Allen!!”

Finally, we reached the right flank. They were surrounded and on the verge of annihilation.

“How…?”

Bolton, who had somehow survived, looked up at me in disbelief.

More of them had survived than I expected. Judging by the fact that they were kneeling, unarmed, they had been spared to be taken prisoner. Thanks to this, about half of the vassals seemed to have survived. They were lucky.

The enemy soldiers didn’t flee even after I arrived. They were hiding behind their prisoners, likely due to greed.

“Fools.”

“Die!”

The nearest enemy soldier swung his sword at me. Before his sword could connect, Fiore’s blade flashed, grazing the soldier. It was his greed that killed him.

After she cut down a few more, fear finally overcame their greed, and they began to retreat.

I raised my sword.

“Draw your swords! Draw your swords!!”

My left flank reaching the remnants of the right meant we had successfully surrounded the enemy. Now, there was only one thing left to do: counterattack.

The captured soldiers, realizing I was their lifeline, hurriedly grabbed discarded weapons and huddled behind me. I pointed my sword towards the path I had cleared.

“Annihilate the enemy!”

Poo—

Fiore blew her horn, signaling the final, prearranged command. Our forces, having surrounded the enemy, charged.

Fiore and I led the charge, followed by the slightly reduced number of elite mercenaries. The enemy had nowhere to run. Still, they didn’t surrender without a fight.

“We still outnumber you!! We can win if we break through the encirclement! Kill him!”

Powell Osborne, who had fled earlier, had somehow rallied a knight and five or six elite soldiers and now blocked my path.

Due to the heavy losses suffered by our right flank, our forces were indeed smaller. While we had gained a favorable position through our breakthrough and encirclement, victory wasn’t assured.

If the enemy managed to break through even a single point in our flimsy encirclement, the tables could quickly turn.

However, Powell Osborne had made one mistake. If I were him, I would have thought twice, thrice, even a hundred times, before showing my face again before Fiore, who was still riding high on the thrill of battle.

“Allen! I’ll take the knight!”

Fiore spurred her horse forward the moment she saw Powell Osborne, effectively leaving the other knight to me.

Bound by my promise, I couldn’t refuse and charged towards the enemy knight, whose face paled as he saw me approach.

“Are you ready to join your comrades?”

Meanwhile, Fiore charged like an arrow. The enemy elite soldiers, finally reacting, swung their spears at her.

Her horse, with incredible agility, dodged the attacks. Simultaneously, Fiore deflected the spear shafts with her sword and, urging her horse forward, closed the distance.

The elite soldier desperately raised his spear. Fiore’s sword was faster, grazing his body. That was the beginning.

“Get out of my way! If you don’t want to die!”

Fiore was like a wolf among sheep. With her exceptional horsemanship, she dodged the enemy attacks, deflecting blows with her sword when necessary and exploiting the resulting openings to strike.

The five or six elite soldiers were no match for her.

“I’ve never heard of two such skilled knights serving under Baron Rasino…!”

Powell Osborne, finally facing her, gritted his teeth. Fiore grinned and pointed her sword at him.

“I’m not the Baron’s subordinate.”

“What…!”

Those were Powell Osborne’s last words. As Fiore charged and deflected his sword, her horse reared up and stomped on his chest. He collapsed.

“I’ve captured the enemy commander! Surrender!”

The hesitant enemy soldiers finally laid down their arms after Fiore removed Powell Osborne’s helmet and held it aloft.

I, who had already captured the other knight and prevented the remaining enemy soldiers from interfering in Fiore’s fight, finally lowered my sword.

The battle was over.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

 
We had achieved victory against an enemy that outnumbered us by two to one.

Despite the victory, which would be celebrated throughout the region, the vassals gathered in the command tent wore grim expressions. It wasn’t just because of their battered and bruised bodies.

Despite their insistence on leading the right flank, they had not only failed to fulfill their role but had also suffered near-annihilation. This made it difficult for them to claim their share of the spoils of war.

They had invested significant resources and manpower in the war, yet they were now facing the prospect of losing everything without gaining a single coin. Some might even have to seriously consider bankruptcy.

Bolton was no exception. While his family, being the most influential among the vassals, had some leeway, their losses were significant due to their substantial investment.

The bigger problem was that he had lost almost all of his troops, despite barely surviving himself.

This was the perfect opportunity to plunder Baron Debussy’s territory, but he lacked the soldiers to do so. It was like having a mountain of gold before him yet lacking the hands to grasp it.

‘Conversely, I’ve gained a lot.’

I had captured two knights, who would fetch a hefty ransom, and had also claimed all the glory and merit of the war for myself. While Fiore had captured the enemy commander, she was known as my squire.

It had become my war, fought and won for my own benefit.

Moreover, with Bolton and the other vassals weakened, Segeric would have no choice but to rely on me even more.

For Segeric, it was a mixed result. While the victory in the war he had sponsored would solidify his position as heir, the weakening of his supporting faction would give Ailgar an opening to continue the power struggle.

Ultimately, I was the only true victor of this war.

I hid my true intentions and offered the vassals words of comfort.

“Cheer up. You’re all fortunate to be alive. Half of your comrades, whom you were talking with just yesterday, are now cold corpses.”

Of course, to those on the verge of despair, my words would sound like mockery.

In fact, that was my intention.

Bolton glared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes bloodshot. As we began discussing the aftermath of the battle, Bolton spoke up.

“First, we must send word of our victory to Polton and request reinforcements. We have too many prisoners.”

The number of captured enemy soldiers was comparable to our own forces. While they were currently subdued, having just been defeated, they could still cause significant trouble if they rioted.

However, I shook my head. Agreeing to Bolton’s request would give him time to replenish his forces and plunder Baron Debussy’s territory.

“We can’t waste any time. Baron Debussy will immediately mobilize his forces once he hears about this.”

Having suffered heavy losses, we didn’t have the strength to continue the war. Conversely, the enemy, having only suffered a single defeat, had plenty of reserves.

“Then what about the prisoners? If we release them, they’ll become bandits and cause trouble. Surely you’re not planning to execute them all? They are our brethren in faith, even if they are our enemies!”

Bolton, who seemed unlikely to even pay tithes, used religion to pressure me. I responded as if I had been waiting for those words,

“We’ll consider the prisoners’ ransom as payment for indentured servitude and sell the rights to the war merchants.”

There was a permanent slave market in Dressten, the largest trading port in the southeast. As it wasn’t far from here, the war merchants wouldn’t refuse such an offer.

The problem was that the prisoners might refuse due to the notoriously harsh working conditions and environment. This could be solved by shortening the contract period, though it would reduce the value of the contracts.

‘Plundering Baron Debussy’s territory is the priority.’

I hadn’t forgotten the true objective.

With his last resort blocked, Bolton’s face crumpled like a piece of paper. Others tried to recoup their losses in different ways. One of the vassals spoke up.

“We should at least receive a ransom for the enemy commander and the knights. Please allow me to act as an envoy to Baron Debussy. I have some connections with their nobles.”

He intended to earn a commission by brokering the ransom. It was also a sign of submission to me. A single defection could easily sway the entire group.

It wasn’t surprising. Their only hope of survival now rested on my mercy.

However, not all of them gave up without a fight.

It was early dawn. As the world slept soundly, someone visited my tent. It was Muel, the first to have submitted to me.

His face was grim as he whispered,

“Bolton is plotting to kill you.”

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Sigh once traitor, will always be traitor.