Chapter 245
“A monster colony in Martai.”
When monsters gather in groups, that’s called a colony.
Commander Markus said this, and Encrid immediately decided to move out.
He only learned that Dunbakel had gone there right before leaving, and someone suggested they move quickly since they’d heard there was a threatening number of centaurs.
“Let’s ride. Running would take forever.”
Riding as mounted soldiers would be faster than using a wagon.
The only question was if everyone could ride.
“Are you worried about me? I’m Rem. Rem.”
Everyone could at least ride a horse. No, they could all handle horses properly.
Of course, Encrid could handle horses as well.
When there was no sword work, he often served as a driver.
He was better at handling horses than people thought.
“You ride well.”
Ragna was the same. After seeing Encrid handle a horse, he gave a simple evaluation.
So, you’re good at riding?
Does that mean you’re lacking in other areas?
Encrid just brushed it off and replied,
“Don’t take the lead. Just follow whoever’s ahead of you.”
Always had to watch out for those who got lost.
Audin and Jaxson were used to horses, and Krys went without saying.
“If you can’t ride, you can’t have a lady on your saddle, right?”
His motives were obvious—he’d even paid for lessons from a noble to learn riding.
He did seem to handle horses best.
The half-blood giant was the only concern.
“A sturdy packhorse would be best.”
She really did pick out a sturdy packhorse.
Not fast, but with excellent endurance.
Recently, trade had picked up, and a variety of supplies—including horses—had come to the Border Guard.
Some were not quite warhorses yet, but they had hired people with skill to manage a real stable.
Thanks to that, a pasture was fenced off on the high-quality grasslands near Greenpearl Plain to raise horses.
One of the spoils of the previous war with Azpen was securing that plain.
With horses raised there, they could train cavalry.
The Border Guard had always had messenger horses and packhorses, but now they were raising real cavalry stock.
Markus provided a few of those horses.
“You know this won’t be easy, right?”
Before they left, Markus asked.
Encrid nodded.
Monster centaurs.
Listing their dangers would be endless.
Colony monsters were always dangerous. It wasn’t just a matter of numbers.
Even ghouls in colonies would always have a unique leader—and a unique monster was always a threat.
Among them, centaurs in a colony were more dangerous than gnoll packs.
Gnolls were a problem because their numbers could spike, but they were still infantry.
No one had seen gnolls charging on horseback.
Centaurs were cavalry by default.
‘And they even use something like tactics—that’s the worst part.’
What happens when skilled cavalry use strategies similar to humans?
Even a group of just fifty could be terrifying.
Of course, the Border Guard had to help.
They were just starting to open the eastern trade route.
And these horses came through that very trade route.
There were other motives as well.
It was a chance to show the friendship between the two territories.
Martai was to be a bridgehead for eastern trade, and if there were ever an invasion from the east, it was the minimum line of defense.
For the Border Guard, Martai was both an ally and a sibling territory.
But the news that greeted them on arrival wasn’t good.
“Dunbakel disappeared into the forest.”
And now, monsters camped on the plains in front of the woods.
It was truly absurd.
It was supposed to be a centaur colony issue, but it was more than that.
It wasn’t just a simple colony.
“This is a hell of a mess.”
Torres approached, half his head wrapped in bandages.
They’d been fighting monsters for three days straight.
Many were badly wounded.
The number of dead was not small.
Dozens, they’d heard.
Zimmer was limping.
“We’re in real trouble.”
That was the new lord, the former Border Guard captain.
Encrid climbed the wall and looked at the cluster of monsters.
Over a hundred centaurs. That was a problem—but the real problem was something else.
“When the leader screams, everyone freezes.”
Torres had suffered a head injury because of that. One defender’s head was smashed by the leader’s club.
More than fifty soldiers had died.
Nobody knew how many soldiers Martai had left, but it was a catastrophic loss.
It could have been even worse.
Zimmer and a few of the top Border Guard fighters had made the difference.
Encrid considered asking more about the situation, but stopped.
The real problem was the centaurs.
He stayed expressionless as usual.
He didn’t dwell on Dunbakel’s situation.
This was the battlefield.
‘Death is part of life out here.’
If that’s the limit, so be it.
Still, there was a question.
‘Why?’
There were plenty of chances to run away.
Among those sent, there were the Ruchi and Richi brothers.
Encrid remembered almost every soldier’s name, thanks to his excellent memory and all their shared training.
Those two said,
“If she’d wanted to run, she could have.”
“Yeah, but she just charged in. Didn’t hesitate.”
“I saw it for the first time. The leader, twice the size of the others, was screaming like a monster.”
“Dunbakel slipped from a tree when that thing screamed. That was the last we saw.”
“If Dunbakel hadn’t done that, we’d all be dead. The surprise attack would have done even more damage.”
So that’s why.
Was it to save them? Did she want to earn fame as the guardian of the territory?
Did she have feelings for someone?
She’s a beastfolk—she does care about breeding.
Encrid looked over the soldiers’ faces, but none seemed likely candidates. Hard to imagine anyone feeling desire for them.
So why? That was the question.
“Kiyooo!”
About ten centaurs split from the group and started running.
Not charging, but running laterally and shouting.
It looked like a threat—a challenge.
They were trying to intimidate.
Not Encrid, but the soldiers behind him wavered.
Their discipline was shaken.
“Those bastards.”
Torres ground his teeth.
Up until now, every time a group of ten ran out and screamed like that, it was followed by a monster attack.
That centaur leader really was something else.
There were over fifty horse beasts, and there were harpies with breasts circling in the sky.
That wasn’t all—there were over three hundred dog-headed fiends.
Dozens of ghouls.
Even wolf beasts.
They’d managed to gather all sorts and numbers.
Encrid and the others didn’t know, but a native ranger understood how dangerous the inner forest was.
He guessed that monsters from the south had settled in the forest’s depths.
Some intelligent monster was lying low, eating local game and waiting to build up numbers.
That’s why there’d been so few wild animals in the Grateful Forest lately.
If you went northeast from the woods, there was a wide pasture.
That’s where the wild horse herds lived.
No better place for a centaur colony.
You realize these things after the fact, but no one could have predicted it before.
Not that knowing helped now.
“Rem.”
Encrid didn’t care whether the monsters charged or not.
If they came, they’d kill them. That was all.
Of course, the lord and Torres looked pale.
‘Is Dunbakel dead, too?’
Lost in thought, Rem spoke next to him. Laid-back as always.
He’d just finished yawning and wiped away a tear.
“I don’t say this often.”
“You don’t?”
“That beastfolk, she’s got talent.”
Talent? Getting praise from Rem was rare.
Encrid thought so. He’d never heard anyone call him talented.
He’d heard plenty about being dense, though.
“So?”
“She won’t die that easy, I’ll tell you that.”
Rem had picked up on Encrid’s thoughts and continued the topic.
“She could be dead, too.”
Of course, he had to add that. He snickered, but there was a hint of bloodlust in it.
Encrid didn’t think he was attached to Dunbakel.
But she was his soldier.
So—
She deserved a funeral. With monster blood, flesh, and heads.
Rem probably felt the same.
Encrid thought about how to fight. His mind raced.
Fighting on horseback—ruled out.
Martai had a few cavalry, but—
“No good. When that thing screams, the horses bolt. Some even freeze. We lost half our cavalry in the first battle because of it.”
So what about leading with infantry?
Martai’s proud shock infantry used long spears and shields.
Would that work against centaurs?
They already knew it wouldn’t.
They needed to deal with the leader’s intimidation first. That scream froze everyone.
It was practically a supernatural power.
“I’ve requested support from the center. At least a Junior Knight has to come.”
The lord was experienced—a former Border Guard captain for a reason.
He figured the enemy leader was using something like [Will]. Some monster leaders could do that.
Some called it “killing intent,” some “aura,” some “fear.”
That was it.
Encrid had heard that.
He started thinking about how to lure out the riders, then turned to Krys.
“Big eyes.”
“Yes?”
“If we chase them on horseback, won’t they just run away?”
Thinking wasn’t his strong point. Krys didn’t even pretend to ponder.
“Shouldn’t we just fight them?”
“What?”
“We’ve fought them a few times already, right? If they’re using tactics, that means they’re intelligent. Are they scared? I doubt it.”
Kiyoooo!
Again, ten centaurs screamed and moved into arrow range before slipping away.
Some archers reacted, but didn’t shoot.
They’d learned—arrows didn’t hit these guys.
“So just charge them, and they’ll fight back.”
Really? Encrid had worried about them running, but Krys said that was pointless.
‘Why did I think of stopping them from running?’
He reflected on his own thoughts.
Why?
Because victory was a given.
If they needed a Junior Knight, it meant something was mixed in with that scream.
It must have been some kind of fear-inducing power.
So just don’t be afraid.
He’d experienced intimidation, and then rejection.
Ever since that formless thing called [Will] settled in his chest, Encrid no longer felt threatened.
“Should we go, then?”
“What?”
“Where?”
The lord and Torres both reacted to Encrid’s question.
“To fight.”
Encrid answered.
“Did you listen to anything I said?”
“You’re trying to get yourself killed? Wait for support—at least until the reinforcements arrive from the Border Guard.”
Torres went first, then the lord spoke up.
They didn’t know Encrid. He’d learned rejection after they’d left.
“Krys.”
Encrid skipped the long explanation and called for his substitute mouthpiece.
“The situation’s bad. The enemy’s numbers have increased. They’re gathering every monster around. That leader has the ‘General’ trait—the most dangerous kind. If we wait, we’re doomed. So the best option is to go for the leader’s neck now.”
Krys traced a hand across his neck as he spoke.
“Get close, and everyone freezes!”
Torres yelled, annoyed. If not for that, he wouldn’t try to stop them.
“It’ll be fine. You sure worry a lot. Just hold out so the monsters don’t overrun you.”
“Before you tell us to hold out, Rem, you help too.”
“Heh, brother, I’ll go with you.”
“I’m coming too.”
Rem tapped Torres’s shoulder, Encrid spoke again, and Audin and Teresa chimed in.
Torres wondered why they were like this.
Had they all eaten the wrong herbs?
No, they’d always been crazy. That’s why they were the Madman Platoon.
Torres found himself respecting Markus all over again.
‘He really trusted these maniacs on the battlefield?’
You could warn them all you wanted—they wouldn’t listen.
You couldn’t stop them, either.
Kiyooo!
But Krys was right.
Will help from the center come?
Chances weren’t good. Nobody knew what was going on, but things seemed even worse there.
Rumors of guilds assassinating royal nobles had reached even the north.
“Let’s go.”
So Encrid led the Madman Platoon down from the wall.
They walked at a relaxed pace. It didn’t matter if the centaurs were screaming outside.
He left Krys behind.
“You’re not coming?”
Torres asked, half-exhausted, and Krys gave him a look like he was crazy.
“Why would I? Are you telling me to die? Why leave the safety of the wall?”
So why are they going?
Torres wanted to ask, but didn’t.
He could guess the answer.
“Of course—the captain is the captain.”
That’s the kind of answer he’d get.
“All right, then. Let’s fight too.”
Morale was at rock bottom, but the tense atmosphere actually took the edge off.
Sometimes being dumbstruck is better than panicking.
“All units, charge!”
Torres was the next Border Guard captain.
He was now the acting commander.
The lord and commander ran the territory together.
Torres, bandages on his head, stepped out as monsters charged in, led by the dog-headed fiends.
Brutal battles had already taken place.
If you cut down the attackers, the leader would scream. That scream froze everyone—then came defeat.
‘We can’t just fight like this.’
But holding out wasn’t much better.
Martai’s walls weren’t made for defense.
If they fell, it would be a slaughter.
Even now, they were barely holding on.
“Show the might of the East!”
Zimmer tried to force up morale.
Up front, Rem was already swinging his axes.
And—
As if it were natural, a massacre party began.
Torres had seen it coming.
They were the Madman Platoon.
The only problem was the leader.
Still, watching it all—he couldn’t help but feel exhilarated.
It was a feeling you rarely found on a battlefield of life and death.
(T/N: Damn! I can tell, this is going to be a great arc! Please dont die Dunbakel!)
(T/N: See you next week!)