Chapter 203
After putting on the clothes of those who had just entered the gates, Encrid immediately headed out.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?!”
A soldier assisting the townspeople from atop the castle wall shouted. Encrid lifted the wide-brimmed, worn-out hat that shaded his head. His eyes became visible, locking with the soldier who had called out to him.
Bright, clear blue eyes, the nose bridge and lips beneath them—it wasn’t hard to recognize him.
“A walk.”
“Captain Encrid?”
Lately, few in the city didn’t recognize Encrid’s face.
“Shh.”
Encrid brought a finger to his lips in a quieting gesture and then exited.
He left Krys behind. That guy was useless in frontal combat.
Unlike the surging residents, he moved against the flow, naturally drawing some attention.
It felt like a fish swimming upstream.
He didn’t care.
What did it matter if allies saw him?
What mattered was making sure the enemy didn’t. It was still a moment before he’d be within the enemy’s scouting range. Meaning this was the perfect time to head out and hide.
“Let’s go.”
Encrid said and began to run.
“An ambush?”
Finn asked as she slipped up beside him.
“Yeah.”
Finn didn’t say anything more. She didn’t even question what good an ambush would be with fewer than ten people.
She understood.
She’d spent time around Audin and felt it often.
The Madman Company was full of monsters.
And that included Encrid.
* * *
Marcus stood atop the gallery of the castle wall, stroking his beard when his adjutant, who had come with him from the kingdom, asked,
“Will it be all right?”
It wasn’t that he doubted Encrid’s strength. He trusted him. Still, that trust didn’t change how precarious it looked from the outside.
Which was why they had backup plans in place.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
The adjutant couldn’t read any concern or worry on Marcus’s face. That alone was curious to him.
He hadn’t known Marcus to be someone who spoke so passionately, let alone someone who smiled like this.
‘No, maybe I have seen it a few times.’
Like when he found a tea leaf he liked and jumped into a tea auction to claim it. He wore that same smile when he had something precious to enjoy.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
He wasn’t someone who treated war like entertainment. So for him to say that meant there had to be a reason.
The adjutant realized Marcus’s expectations for Encrid were far from ordinary.
It wasn’t mere anticipation. It was more like amusement.
“The troops without insignias are likely from Baron Bantra’s forces. Or Count Molsen may have sent them.”
The adjutant offered.
Molsen had a reputation as a collector of talent. He had many capable individuals under him.
Marcus had expected as much. Hiding their insignias meant they couldn’t openly lend support.
Count Molsen also wanted a slice of the Border Guards.
It was a headache. A large jackal had joined the fray.
And Molsen was a sly bastard capable of anything.
But Marcus didn’t concern himself with things beyond his reach. They couldn’t request help from the capital anyway. If this was a gamble, then betting everything on the one card he trusted made perfect sense.
And if he didn’t even see it as a gamble, then that said everything.
“Why hasn’t the Independent Company Captain come up yet?”
Marcus asked. All the other commanders had gathered at the gallery, yet Encrid was missing.
“There.”
As soon as Marcus spoke, the sharp-eyed Elf Commander pointed.
Below the castle wall, civilians who worked in agriculture or other supporting roles were entering. Among that flow were a few going against it.
No matter how much they disguised themselves, hiding someone like Audin was a tall order.
Of course, the Elf Commander had recognized Encrid.
“He’s going out.”
No orders had been issued yet. Marcus had merely given him the authority.
“…Huh.”
Marcus let out a small exclamation. He had a good idea of what Encrid was trying to do.
And if it worked, the enemy’s head would be spinning from the start.
He couldn’t help but smile.
* * *
The commander of Martai was a man named Olf.
He preferred to be called General—and he was skilled enough to warrant it. Not just in personal strength, but also in his achievements as a commander.
His subordinates all called him General.
The Border Guards’ mayor had the nickname of Battalion Commander, while Martai’s mayor was known as General.
Well, if that’s what they wanted to call themselves, it wasn’t anyone’s business.
“General, everything’s ready.”
“The mangonels?”
“Eight total. No issues.”
Mangonels were catapults that required six men to launch stones.
They were mobile and didn’t require setup—a significant advantage.
They lacked the power of a trebuchet but were much easier to operate.
With wheels, they could be considered mobile siege weapons.
Trebuchets, on the other hand, needed separate installation.
Olf thought eight mangonels were more than enough.
On top of that, they had support from troops with no insignias.
The commander of those troops approached.
“I don’t think we need to drag this out.”
Olf didn’t know the man’s name or face. He had brown eyes and a mess of facial hair.
At most, he looked barely over thirty.
The man had shown a bit of etiquette but didn’t seem to show real respect for Olf.
Well, anyone coming here must’ve had some kind of backing.
Olf didn’t mind.
The man was one of Baron Bantra’s commanders. He didn’t seem interested in actual command, but that wasn’t Olf’s concern.
Better to focus on the battlefield than waste time on nonsense.
It was more beneficial to gauge the enemy than get caught up in petty thoughts.
And so, Olf focused on those who had made a name for themselves in previous battles.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—there were two commanders in Baron Bantra’s forces.
At least one of them was capable of reason.
In practice, all command over the troops had been left to this second commander anyway.
That second commander had said:
– “Encrid? Ah, that guy? Half of him is all bluff. He goes around bragging about ridiculous accomplishments. If I meet him on the battlefield, I plan to put a hole through his throat.”
The sharp Estark hanging from his waist gave weight to his words.
Olf nodded in agreement.
They were allies for now, after all.
Still, they were peculiar individuals.
The first commander, with that bored expression, merely trailed along behind and occasionally urged them to hurry.
‘Whatever.’
This battlefield was destined for victory, and he was going to be the star of it.
He would devour the Border Guards and turn this area into the eastern region’s new foothold.
His grand dream soared toward the sky.
Around that time, raindrops began to fall.
Rain from a clear sky.
It was the Summer God’s prank.
Olf was still on horseback at the rear of the battlefield.
Ahead, just outside the Border Guard’s castle wall, a few homes were visible.
The houses, vacated by residents, were silent.
The mangonels followed the well-maintained path. Naturally, that path threaded between the houses.
Watching the siege weapons roll through the gaps between buildings was reassuring.
Drizzle. They needed to move quickly before the light rain turned the ground to mud.
“Hurry up.”
At Olf’s command, the soldiers picked up the pace.
* * *
The Summer God’s prank—rain falling from a clear sky.
It was a kind of superstition.
There was no actual deity representing each season.
Well, some regions called it by different names.
In the west, they said it was due to a shaman’s mistake or something.
Encrid had heard Rem say that once when they’d seen such rain.
He wasn’t especially tense.
He simply thought he had a job to do.
That didn’t mean he intended to go easy.
‘Is the Summer God helping us?’
With the rain falling, visibility was slightly impaired.
It was an ideal condition for those in hiding.
Predicting the enemy’s route wasn’t hard.
Thanks to his past experience, he assumed the siege weapons would pass through the well-maintained path between the houses.
His prediction was right. Anything on wheels needed a clean path.
Rumble.
Soon, he heard the sound of wheels rolling.
He hid behind the door of a house made from a mix of mud and timber.
Audin couldn’t hide in such a place, so he was inside the house entirely.
On the opposite side, behind the door of another house, were Rem, Ragna, and Dunbakel.
Here, it was Encrid, Jaxson, and Audin.
Finn was positioned farther back.
‘Smash the siege weapons and pull out.’
Encrid was putting past experience to use. There was no need to burn everything in one battle.
They would eat away at them, little by little.
It wasn’t exactly some tactical masterpiece.
He was just applying what he’d learned from fighting the Knoll—and it was working.
“Not bad.”
Krys also nodded.
That was enough.
Encrid remained hidden behind the door and saw the mangonel roll past with a rattling noise.
“Damn it, of all times for rain.”
A grumbling enemy soldier pushing the mangonel locked eyes with Encrid—and Encrid spoke calmly.
“Audin, smash it.”
The soldier’s eyes widened. His mouth opened in shock.
Whoosh, thunk!
A knife flew from Jaxson’s hand and lodged itself in the soldier’s forehead.
The man toppled backward, striking the siege weapon as he collapsed. His limbs crumpled to the ground like an old wooden puppet.
“We’re under attack!”
There were more than ten men pulling the siege weapon. They couldn’t silence them all.
Encrid charged out. Stepping hard into the ground, he drew his sword and executed a three-point thrust.
First, a sharp jab on the left diagonal—stabbed and pulled.
Then, another in the center.
Lastly, one on the right diagonal—stabbed again.
Three thrusts. Three fatalities.
“Gahk!”
“Nggh!”
“Urgh!”
Three screams burst out at once. The first man took a blade through the mouth.
The second, through the throat.
The third—a deliberate, forceful strike—pierced the leather armor and punched through to the heart.
A perfect blend of finesse and power—skill and technique combined.
Then Audin charged out, smashing through a wall. The enemy soldiers recoiled in horror.
“Uwah!”
“What the hell?!”
“…Guh!”
There were all sorts of shocked reactions.
Audin stepped up to the mangonel, grabbed it with his left hand, drew back his right fist, and punched forward.
Encrid recognized the hints of [Valaf Style] martial arts in that movement.
The left foot stepped forward and slammed down, with the ankle, knee, and waist rotating in unison. The punch that followed was a cannonball.
Boom!
Through the Summer God’s prank, a deafening strike exploded.
Raindrops splashed in every direction.
Crunch!
The mangonel wasn’t a delicate machine. Its rough build was its strength. But that didn’t mean the catch, trigger, or wheel didn’t matter.
Any structured weapon had clear weak points.
Of course, Audin didn’t care about any of that.
He shattered and splintered the thick timber drum—the structural core—of the siege weapon with his fist. Wooden shards sprayed through the rain.
A few punches destroyed the siege weapon.
It went beyond brute strength.
Could even an ogre or a giant do such a thing?
Even Frok probably couldn’t manage it so easily.
“Blessings upon this lowly servant!”
To say that while smashing siege weapons with his bare hands…
Encrid was once again impressed by Audin’s devoutness.
On the other side, similar events were unfolding.
Over there, Rem played Audin’s role.
His axe shattered the mangonel’s basket and severed all the tough cords that acted as its trigger.
Ragna walked forward calmly, cutting, slashing, and stabbing approaching enemies.
“Form ranks! Don’t charge recklessly!”
A commander stationed between the siege weapons shouted.
They’d lost two weapons up front, but they couldn’t just let this happen.
The plan was to pull back and regroup for a counterattack.
That was the commander’s thought as he opened his mouth to give orders.
“Grrkhuhh?”
But whatever the commander had meant to say never made it into words.
Encrid saw the shadow rise behind the man.
It was Jaxson. With a swift stroke of his dagger, he slit the commander’s throat from behind. He tossed the corpse aside and immediately stabbed a nearby soldier near the siege engine.
Dodge and stab. With such simple movements, another casualty was made.
Audin didn’t bother with the soldiers. He focused solely on smashing the weapons.
Boom! Boom!
A series of resounding impacts rang out.
Naturally, all eyes turned to Audin, and in that brief moment of distraction, Jaxson vanished.
All that remained—
“Guhk!”
“Fall back, fall back!”
—was the shadow slicing through the throats of those shouting retreat. The harmony of burst movement and dagger strikes—Jaxson hunted down anyone trying to regroup.
Encrid swung his sword, thinking it was a scene he’d grown used to seeing.
The enemy was thick in front of him.
Dunbakel remained by Ragna’s side, handling only those who got close.
Finn, from the start, had stayed farther back inside a house.
Her role had never been direct engagement but to observe everything from behind.
That was, of course, by Encrid’s order.
They pushed forward in a sweep. Destroying the eight siege weapons advancing in formation wasn’t difficult.
A soldier approached, trying to stop Audin. Audin seized him with overwhelming force and threw him aside before charging.
Boom!
He slammed into a siege engine with his shoulder and toppled it.
It didn’t make sense—but it happened right in front of them, so it was nothing short of absurd.
In the end, it took barely ten minutes to destroy all eight siege engines.
The Summer God’s prank was meant to be brief.
And in that short trick of time, Martai lost eight siege weapons.
Screeeee!
Finn blew the prepared whistle. The enemy’s main force had begun to stir. Seeing the signal from the sharp-eyed ranger, Encrid fell back.
Naturally, the others followed.
Dunbakel was the first to run. Watching the beastkin dash, everyone else retreated.
Before the battle had even properly begun, before talks of surrender in front of the walls had even started—
Martai had lost its siege engines, and the Border Guard soldiers who’d stiffened at the sight of the enemy regained their composure.
Encrid turned and ran. If they pulled out like this, it was a clear success.
But partway through, Encrid suddenly stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Rem caught on and asked. Encrid didn’t respond. He turned fully around.
He saw the enemy troops halted behind him.
Some still clueless, some staring dumbly, some shouting to pursue, some with eyes wide open, some collapsed in shock.
What had caused this?
What made them freeze?
A heat surged from his lower belly to his throat.
“Not going?”
Finn raised her voice. Everyone looked to their captain’s back, wondering what he was doing.
Encrid—well, he just felt like it.
He wanted to spit out whatever was burning inside him.
“My name is Encrid.”
He stood firm and announced his name.
“If you retreat now, you can live.”
His voice rose steadily—not a scream or shout, but a resonant tone. Yet it spread wide, deep, and far.
Enemy eyes locked onto Encrid—dozens, hundreds of them. He held their gaze.
It was boldness.
A sudden rise of gallant spirit.
Which is why he spoke as he did.
A declaration of war and a warning, carried with his name.
All eyes focused. It was a moment more forward than any before.
“He’s insane.”
Rem muttered, but for the watching allied soldiers, it stirred something electric.
Uwoooooooo!
The roar of cheers erupted, as expected.
To stop alone before over a thousand enemies—
To shout that before them—
It was like watching the hero of a tale.
“Get a grip. You on something?”
And Rem wouldn’t stop talking from behind.
