Ch.20: Fake News
Rustle!
"Over there!"
The Baron's elite soldiers follow the sound of branches being trampled underfoot, but when they push through the bushes and advance to the location, only traces remain.
Huff, huff.
"Huh, there's nothing here. What should we do?"
"......Continue the search. Kill them on sight."
Already 30 minutes since the battle began. The tension has never been released for a moment, and the neural accelerators operating at maximum output are gnawing away at their stamina in real time, yet they haven't even caught the enemy's tail.
"Ahhhhh!"
No. Rather, it's clear that their tails are being cut off.
"That sound is......"
"It's from the opposite side. Probably screams from those mercenary bastards."
"P-please spare me-!"
"......"
The squad leader tries to soothe his soldiers' anxiety, but deep in his heart, he is facing a cold reality.
'We need to return. If we stay like this, we'll be chopped up finely and defeated individually. But if we return......'
[Fight, you bastards! You must show the bravery of the Baron's house! What's with all the nonsense when dealing with mere mercenaries!]
No matter how many times he thinks about it, returning to the main force is the correct judgment, but if he does that, that bastard Caton won't leave them alone. Both front and back are blocked.
Snap!
"These bastards, stop right there!"
"Catch them!"
While he agonizes over that 'problem with no solution', the dozen or so soldiers step deeper and deeper into the forest.
"Found you!"
Huff, huff. At that moment, the soldiers finally got to see the enemy's face. A place so far away that it would be difficult to receive help from the main force even if a full-scale battle broke out. Their breath had risen to their chins, and their eyes couldn't hide the fact that blood vessels had burst and they had reached their physical limits.
"Let's finish this quickly."
"Let's do that."
Shing. Vice-Captain Marik draws his sword and charges, followed by the dwarf Basim taking out a two-handed axe as thick as his own torso.
Clang!
"Urgh! This, this......"
He managed to block the first sword strike well, but the limit of stamina also meant that a medium to long-term battle was impossible.
Slash!
"You baaastard!"
The moment the Vice-Captain's blade dug into the soldier's nape, dwarf Basim used his speed to bring down his massive axe.
Craaack!
Thud thud, thump!
"......"
The blade extended for defense was knocked away with sparks, pushed back, and finally split from chest to lower body entirely, causing chunks of intestines to spill onto the ground.
Rustle, rustle.
"......H-here! Over here! Help!"
The desperate silence was brief. Everyone's heads turned toward the sound of multiple people approaching. Friend or foe. The desperate hope sank gloomily upon confirming the thick, broad upper body.
"......Volga?"
"Uh, uh...... Yes, Vice-Captain! Calix told me to come this way! You're really here! Honestly, I thought it was bullshit, but I'm fiercely reflecting on it! That bastard Calix is incredibly amazing! Jealousy, amazement, and gratitude are all mixed up...... Anyway, I want to fight quickly!"
"Vice-Captain, what is that idiot saying?"
"......Basim, isn't that guy learning under you?"
"No way. I don't know such a moron."
"......"
The reinforcements were not for them.
***
Humans sometimes miss a lot of things. They forget the favors they've received, can pursue things contrary to their own interests, and sometimes curse those they once respected. The newcomers were the same.
'Can't we become official mercenaries too?'
'Right. You and I have proven ourselves enough. Why only Calix?'
After Calix became an official mercenary, they openly showed jealousy as if they had never received help from Calix. The disappearance of the title 'little captain' was a bonus. However, even beasts learn and feel something when the same situation repeats, so the newcomers only truly understand by the fourth real battle.
"Again, say it with your own mouth this time. What should you do?"
"30 steps toward the white tree. Eight veteran mercenaries and five soldiers. Process them quickly, then return to where we are now as fast as possible. Right?"
"Good. Don't forget. We fight where we want and how we want. If you encounter enemies where you don't want to, your lives will be in danger. Keep that in mind."
"Yeah."
"Depart."
The instructions were so clean, they were perfect. Distance and direction were given in detail but concisely, along with goals to achieve and points to be careful of. They advanced into the forest with expressions as if bewitched by something. It's troubling to see Volga returning with sparkling eyes, making it difficult to distrust Calix's orders.
[Enemy! Kill them!]
[Hehehehe, who's going to kill whom? Huh?]
Clang!
Sure enough, when they reached their destination, the sound of enemies and allies beginning combat pierced their ears.
"Volga was right. It was real. What kind of timing is this......"
"Is this what you have to do...... To become an official mercenary?"
"I don't know, damn it......"
"But aside from everything else, how does he know the enemy's numbers?"
"D-do they send messenger birds to each other?"
"You idiot, does it make sense for messenger birds to be flying around in a place where sunlight barely reaches?"
"......"
"Enough, just don't think about anything and fight like the little captain said."
"What then?"
"Just return quickly and that's it."
At this, Romance scolded his comrades while firmly grasping the lifeline that had descended in his heart.
'Calix is different somehow. If I survive this time too...... I'll stick to him. I absolutely won't let go.'
Jealousy is only directed at those within reach. When you realize a stark gap, you then move to the stage of following that target instead. Romance's case was the same.
Crack!
"Another one screwed! White stuff splashing from his head. Guys who can barely breathe, trying to do what? Just die quietly...... Huh? What? Why are you guys popping out? What? Who sent you?"
"Calix sent us, he said to lend a hand! What are you all doing? Go and screw them!"
With tactical advantage plus numerical superiority, it didn't take long for the battlefield's outcome to be decided.
***
Calix stands still, looking into the forest.
'The east is cleared, and Volga sent west will return soon too. The enemy's main force has shrunk further. There aren't even ten left on the knight's side.'
The light emitted by the neural accelerators is decreasing in real time. While Captain Royce and other veteran mercenaries coordinate to clean up enemies without any special plan, the newcomers are divided into three groups participating in various parts of the battlefield. The ten soldiers are smashed by Captain Royce and divided into groups of two and three, but he sent Romance there.
'There's nowhere to flee to the north, either. Above all, Romance is close to Zahira...... As long as he doesn't let his guard down, there will be no casualties.'
This is also a great learning experience for Calix. That victory is possible without drawing a sword even once. The battlefield environment is as important as individual abilities. And above all, the attitude of those entering battle changes when they have confidence in victory.
"Calix, what do we do now? Where should we move next? We're ready."
"......"
Wheatley and Kotchap are restless and urging for the next order, but the 'little captain' puts his finger to his lips to restrain them.
"The situation cleanup is almost finished."
"Then we can move more actively."
"There's no need to take risks."
"......Yeah, got it."
Actually, Calix doesn't want to just stand and watch either. How would the newly learned swordsmanship fare against soldiers emitting green light? Wouldn't it be an opportunity to further refine the Dance of the Wasteland? However, he must not forget his sense of responsibility.
"So we just wait in this state?"
"For a while. Now only the enemy's main force remains, and that side includes a knight. If we act independently, the casualties won't be small. Even if we fight, it should be a battle between main force and main force."
"True, you also have people to protect. I understand what you mean."
Kotchap wipes his thick nostrils while glancing at the old man who has lost his memory. A person who once made Calix wonder if it was simply good luck. Someone who gave such a strong impression that goosebumps rose on his forearms when he regained his memory.
"Gregor, would you like some snacks? I picked some flowers on the way back from attacking, and if you remove the head and suck on the back, they taste sweet."
"Stay away from food during battle. You're likely to get sick."
"Huh? No, that......"
"Besides, what you're holding is Ketallia. It won't kill you if you eat it, but it has toxins that cause stomach upset. I wouldn't put it near my mouth."
"Gregor...... Sir?"
Then suddenly, the conversation breaks off at the energetic response. The newcomers' gazes are fixed on the old man's face as if nailed there. The old man who had been crouching and playing with two plates was now standing with his back straight. He had returned.
"Calix. You seem to already know what the current situation is."
"......Gregor."
"Tell me."
At this moment, when envious gazes pour down, Calix faces one of the mercenary group's maximum forces and opens his mouth.
"The cleanup just finished. However, the enemy's main force also noticed their disadvantage and is fleeing."
"Direction and distance?"
"Direction is northeast; it seems they're trying to go down below the ridge. At least that's the case for the knight. The soldiers...... They are already starting to fall behind."
"We pursue. Just you and me, the two of us. Royce is probably already following early, too."
"Yes."
It was a proposal with no reason to refuse.
***
The Baron and his horse run toward the stream without hesitation.
Thwack, crack!
"Hurry, faster!"
Neigh-neigh. Snort.
The horse armor is already covered with scratches. Though it has enough strength to break through even fairly thick branches entirely, the speed inevitably decreases.
[B-Baron! Please don't abandon us! My lord Baron!]
'Lowly bastards. This isn't why I fed you, so you'd be loyal at times like this!'
The faint cry of squire Caton heard from far away has no place to enter his ears.
'But what do I do about this? I should have killed all the mercenary bastards. That way I could have made the enraged Mercenary Guild side with the ducal house! Ahhh!'
Whether due to the plate armor covering his entire body or the gravity of the situation, sweat streams down. In his desperate state, the lowly conspiracy of the House of Saitz is fully revealed.
Crack!
"Urgh!"
Then suddenly, his helmet catches on the end of a branch, and his waist sways. After his vision is briefly obscured, the baron barely regains his body's center. Ironically, what he had been searching for so desperately appears before his eyes. The corpses of those who were escorting the trade carriage are scattered here and there.
"These idiotic bastards! They wouldn't have gotten far anyway! They should have quietly offered their lives for the ducal house! That way it would have at least been a noble sacrifice!"
Presumably, it seemed to have led to them killing each other after internal strife broke out. What remained at the end was a single box wrapped in blue cloth. The baron dismounts his horse despite the urgency and examines its contents.
"......Damn it, but some still remain. They really did send it."
Inside the box were two full glass bottles and twenty empty ones, with precious silk stuffed around them as cushioning.
"Indeed, the pretext is false, but they did include real enhancement potions. This way, they can use it as an excuse to tear apart the Marquis Hoover House. Heh, judging by the color, these are high-grade enhancement potions. Disposing of just one could easily buy a castle...... Isn't this a treasure bestowed upon me by heaven?"
In reality, it's not a treasure but a calamity.
"That can't be."
"......!"
His excited expression hardens stiffly due to the unwelcome guest's appearance.
"That is not something permitted to you."
"You...... Who are you? If you know honor, reveal your name!"
Though Captain Royce and Hadiya should have arrived first by distance, the answer flows from the mouths of an old man and a young man who pursued the fallen knight in a straight line.
"It's Calix."
"I am Calix...... Gregor?"
And the old man does not put his own name forward.
"Remember. The name of the one who will take away your tainted honor and false title."
"How dare...... Lowly bastards covet what they shouldn't touch."
Who has the rightful claim?
"That too is wrong. Only greed is yours. You killed countless innocent people and sought to kill more...... I am now facing something worse than a beast. Therefore, you are not a knight. Beasts do not know honor, and what they don't know, they cannot practice."
"......Heh, hehehehe! Hahaha! Good! Let's see if your skill matches your tongue wagging. The price for lawless acts must be paid with life!"
At this, Calix quietly nods his head. That knight is...... Fake. Compared to the Marquis Hoover House's knight he faced before, it feels like committing serious rudeness.
Shing-
Sure enough, as he draws his sword from his waist and overlays a bandit chief's face over the opponent's helmet, it looks no different from before.