Chapter 61
Having barely reduced their numbers, Ian spat in disgust as he took in the oncoming horde. Even without these new arrivals, the situation was far from favorable. His aggressive fighting was only intended to instill fear in his enemies. Mounted combat was still unfamiliar terrain for him, with several near-falls from his horse. And these were against opponents who were essentially expendable.
The Empire's cavalry and royal guards, for the most part, kept their distance, merely following him. They were undoubtedly waiting for him to tire. Despite appearing unfazed, Ian's instincts were screaming warnings of danger. It was likely that among them were beastfolk whose skills matched those of the two they had encountered before. At least, their presence was definitely certain.
Charlotte was her name, wasn't it? thought Ian.
She had been practically invisible except for the first few minutes. She was definitely moving around to stay out of sight. But Ian couldn't afford to focus solely on her. The black knights might individually be less skilled, but their numbers were great, and they were far from careless. A purely physical battle was nearly impossible.
Even with his high stats and traits favoring close combat, Ian, at his core a mage, had limits to his physical fight. Fortunately, the attackers seemed disinclined to overturn the carriage, likely out of concern that Lucy, inside, might be injured since the carriage was already running at a high speed. Time was on their side, as desperation grew with the nearing abandoned lands. The watchers would have to engage by the time they left the valley. Ian saw this as the critical moment before those unwelcome guests arrived.
"Damn it all to hell...!" Miguel, fiddling with his crossbow, finally pulled on the reins.
It was an inevitable decision; even horses enchanted with magic couldn't just plow through the midst of enemies. Those charging head-on scattered to either side of the valley as the carriage approached, displaying their skilled horsemanship—a mix of knights and mercenaries following.
The Hiram bastards probably know there's a mage. How would they counter? Ah, right. The crossbow. Ian thought to himself, hugging the side of the carriage.
Even the most powerful mage could be rendered powerless if they couldn't complete their spells. In that sense, alternating shots from a crossbow were basic yet effective.
It wouldn't make much difference to me, though, thought Ian.
The rear pursuers spaced out at the arrival of the intruders, marking their territory. Soon, an exchange of glances ensued, and a sinister tension filled the air. While the empire's forces mixed in the rear might have a qualitative edge, Ian's efforts had significantly bolstered the numbers of the newcomers.
We're like fish caught in a net.
Even so, Ian decided to watch and wait. The carriage was slowing but still moving. Without a clear path through the siege, there was no need to break the deadlock prematurely.
"I am Jaime, a knight and acting lord of Hiram!" A shout came from the front as Jaime looked back and called out. "You are engaging in unauthorized combat! Those in the carriage have burned many of our lands' assets, and we must take them into custody! Stand down!"
"Those people have fled from Agel Lan! We were the first to pursue, and it's a matter for Agel Lan, so outsiders should stand aside!" The retort came from the left. Ian turned to see a familiar face, raising one corner of his mouth. The voice came from Jonathan of the personal knight's squad, who had always looked up to him with admiration. Of course, now that they met again, they only looked at each other with eyes full of murderous intent, more than just hostility.
"Remember, this is Bel Ronde! This can be considered as an act of aggression, and think of the dishonor it brings!" Jaime countered unabashedly.
Laughter erupted from the right this time, coming from Oleg, a massive bodyguard from the Libra Trading Company.
"We are here under the command of Emperor Larmut of the Empire! You know well the disgrace of opposing the Empire's will!"
"We are aware you are hired by the Libra Trading Company! There's no proof you're acting under Larmut's orders, so follow proper procedures!"
The argument intensified. Ian moved closer to the driver's seat.
"What a mess. Damn it all..." said Miguel.
Miguel, wiping sweat from his forehead, looked back at Ian, then continued, "They'll end up fighting among themselves at this rate.”
"Not yet. They'll probably do that after they've captured us," Ian whispered back.
Despite the foolishness abundant in this world, Ian doubted even in such a moment, they would be foolish enough to turn their blades on each other. As the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, so it was expected that this verbal altercation would end in some kind of compromise. However, this exchange held significant meaning for Ian, who possessed the means to exploit even the smallest rift.
“Fuck this... it seems like this could really be the end for me,” said Miguel.
“Stay sharp. I’ll figure something out,” replied Ian.
“Do you have a plan?”
“Sort of. Just focus on crossing the river. And keep in mind we might need to abandon the carriage if it comes to that.”
Ian glanced back at Lucy, who peered out from behind the driver's seat. She nodded, understanding his instruction. Following Ian's gesture, Miguel handed her a backpack.
“If that happens, ride with Miguel, Lucy.”
“Okay.”
“And after we cross the river? It seems they’ll follow us to the end.” Miguel added.
Ian replied without turning his head, “We’ll talk about that when we get there. Be ready.”
Tension marked Miguel’s face as he gripped the reins tightly, clutching the crossbow in haste. The dialogues from both sides were nearing their end.
“Then first, we shall decide to suppress the criminals together!” Jaime shouted back in response.
“As a token of cooperation, I will share important information with you!”
“Speak!”
“There is a mage among them!”
“A mage...? Impossible! We haven’t even seen a hair of one.”
“Could it be a ruse? Perhaps an accomplice from Bel Ronde joined them—”
The pursuers murmured among themselves.
Good, they haven't figured out it's me. Ian mused to himself, tightening his grip on his sword. As he slightly bowed his head to cast Wind Blade,
“Enough chatter! What are you waiting for, you fools? Attack!” Ube, the mercenary leader, yelled out.
The Hiram mercenaries, as if awaiting this signal, pivoted to action. The Naslan mercenaries, not to be outdone, started to converge as well. The difference was that their target was the carriage. It was likely an attempt to shift the problem, which was in this case, Ian, onto the Hiram mercenaries.
“Fuck...!” Miguel cracked the reins, accelerating the carriage as Ian eyed the mercenaries charging towards him. His nerves were taut, his focus sharpened to its peak.
“Hrrgh!” The leading mercenary swung his ax at that moment.
Ian's body bent backward in a dodging maneuver, not even looking at the ax whizzing by his face, merely brushing past the mercenary's neck. His arm, previously hanging loose, snapped forward like a whip.
Sshhk—
The wind, sharply emitted along the blade, sliced through the mercenary’s neck. The man’s head flew off, blood spurting from the severed neck.
“What the hell...?!”
The following mercenaries gasped in horror as they charged. In their eyes, the clash had resulted in one head rolling away instantly. Ian's gaze darted to two attackers coming from each side. His body reacted before his mind, deflecting a falling sword with his own blade while simultaneously dodging a spear from the right by contorting his body off the saddle. After remounting, his sword deftly slashed at the passing horse's flank.
Neigh—
While the injured horse tumbled, throwing its rider to the ground, Ian's gaze had already shifted to the back of the spear-wielding mercenary. A tingling in his fingers preceded the unleashing of a spectral form of Swamp's Resentment. With two downed but no time to rest, Ian pulled on the reins, turning his horse as he planted his feet on the saddle.
The horse, unable to overcome its inertia, staggered and slid, and another mercenary approached. But Ian's gaze was fixed on those attempting to climb onto the carriage. Just as a mercenary was about to swing his sword, Ian leaped straight from the saddle. Propelled by the wind, the carriage, several meters away, rapidly closed in.
“Ugh?!” A mercenary, just clinging to the carriage, turned to see Ian, eyes wide. Ian, lifting his arm, thrust his sword backward into the mercenary's back.
Crack!
“Gah...!”
Piercing through the mercenary and the partition, Ian used the hilt as leverage to grab the top of the partition. Climbing up, he withdrew his sword, and the body of the faltering mercenary dropped.
Swoosh.
Blood spattered as Ian prepared for the next move.
Spik.
A bolt whizzed past Ian's ear.
"Don't shoot! Whoever fires an arrow at me will die by my hand!" Oleg's shout followed.
Thanks for the warning. Ian thought, as he climbed over the partition and charged at an enemy attempting to enter the carriage from the opposite side.
"What the fuck...!"
The enemy, desperately blocking with his sword, staggered but managed to leap back onto his horse running parallel to the carriage. Ian sent another curse of the Swamp’s Resentment towards him, drawing more blood than before and aiming it at the enemy.
"Be careful!" Lucy's scream came just in time. An enemy who had climbed onto the rear of the carriage was charging at Ian from behind.
Boom—
"Magic...?!"
Flames burst from the face of the attacker. Though the explosion was but a flicker, it was enough to momentarily disorient him. And then,
Crack!
It also was enough time for Ian to swing his sword. The mercenary, his head nearly severed in half, toppled over like a stone statue.
"The girl is a mage...!"
"The kid's casting spells! Everyone, be careful!"
The mercenaries' shouts continued. Ian turned to Lucy, frozen with her hand outstretched, and smiled. It was as the mercenaries had cried out. The flames had been her doing. Lucy, regaining her composure, nodded in response.
"Damn it all...!" Miguel's curse followed.
Suddenly, two mercenaries had closed in, thrusting their spears at the horse. The magic stones on the armor flashed.
Whoosh!
The magic that followed was a familiar defensive spell to Ian, the Whirling Barrier.
"Ugh?!" The mercenaries caught off guard, staggered.
Then, bolts pierced through one's shoulder and the other's chest in quick succession with creams followed.
"By the light of Lu Sola... damn it...!" Miguel, his hands trembling, reloaded the crossbow.
With that, Ian turned back to the side of the carriage and launched himself. The mercenaries, having started to climb onto the carriage, were literally throwing themselves into the carriage. It was a matter of pride between the two mercenary groups, but Ian didn't give it much thought. He simply moved frantically, fending off the attackers and sending out curses of the Swamp's Resentment as soon as its cooldown ended. The carriage's exterior was quickly stained red. The approaching mercenaries were terror-stricken.
Ian's movements, far from being graceful or refined, became even more rugged and ferocious over time. This raw ferocity instilled a primal fear in the attackers.
"His ferocity is incredible...."
"The rumors were wrong. He should be called a berserker with that kind of rage."
Even the guards from the Libra Trading Company murmured in awe.
"Phew... sigh...." Ian, however, remained calm. Even as he seemed to fight on instinct alone, he was diligently sowing seeds of chaos.
"What, what the hell?! Why are you looking at me like that?!"
Finally, those seeds began to sprout.
"Woah, waaaah-!"
Several, their eyes bloodshot, screamed and turned their weapons against their fellow mercenaries. The curse of the Swamp's Resentment was manifesting, but the mercenaries had no way of knowing. With Hiram and Naslan's mercenaries tangled together, the situation quickly escalated to extremes.
"I knew it! You fucking coward, backstabbing bastards!" Sparks flew from Ube's eyes.
The Naslan mercenaries felt the same.
"Who are you to talk...! Those Hiram bastards stabbed us in the back! They killed John!”
The melee among the mercenaries began. Already inflamed by the deaths and fighting, they attacked each other with unrestrained ferocity.
"What in the world is this...." Confusion spread across Miguel's face as Ian disposed of the last mercenary clinging to the carriage.
It was then Ian shouted, “Speed up! Now!”
“Got it...!” Miguel lashed the reins, and the horses bolted as if in a frenzy.
The magic stones embedded in the armor flashed brightly, swiftly putting distance between the carriage and the group of mercenaries.
“Once we get to the Empire, we must procure the best armor first,” Ian muttered as he climbed onto the driver's seat.
The Hiram cavalry ahead began to loom closer, their faces marked with panic. Despite their frantic efforts, they couldn't outrun the magically enhanced steeds. Ian, gripping his sword, poised himself as if ready to leap at any moment.
“Eeeek...!” Right in front of the carriage, the cavalrymen glanced back nervously and swallowed hard.
They had locked eyes with Ian, who was drenched in blood and gripping his sword. None among them had missed seeing the feats he performed, leaping back and forth between the horse and the carriage.
“Ahhhhh!”
Before Ian could jump, the cavalry scattered in screams, allowing the carriage to overtake them.
“There, it’s...!” Miguel's eyes widened.
Beyond the scattered enemies, the distant river came into view, a sight they hadn't realized was approaching amid their fight through the valley.
“Keep going. This is just the beginning.” Yet Ian’s voice remained steady, calming his breath.
Miguel, his face brightening, looked up at him.
Ian, standing on the carriage’s edge and looking back, soon added, “They’re coming.”
Beyond the Hiram cavalry, black-armored knights were in pursuit.
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