Chapter 75 — Forest Fire
The Antelope is a timid creature. At the slightest sound of a human presence, its ears prick up, and the moment it senses danger, it conceals itself faster than anything else alive. Its short forelegs, powerful hind legs, and nimble evasive ability were the products of evolution refined purely for survival.
A living thing built to flee.
But to put it another way, that also meant it was built for ambush. The mercenary group Antelopes were exactly that. Small in number, yet swift in movement. They close in an instant, sink in their teeth, and vanish without a trace before any counterattack can land.
That was the true reason they were feared.
* * *
Between the Niboria Empire and the Astria Kingdom lies a great, towering chain of mountains. Commonly called the Northern Mountain Range. There are only two paths across it. Of those, only one was wide enough for wagons to pass.
In other words, they had no choice but to transport supplies with their lines fully exposed.
"They're coming."
From behind the undergrowth, Royce raises a hand. Below the mountain pass, a supply convoy was moving at a sluggish pace. The force numbered roughly three hundred. Forty wagons, a mix of cavalry and infantry stretching long and thin along the road.
"We cut them apart as planned. Calix?"
"Yes. Let's begin."
A moment later, the convoy enters the designated choke point.
Fwoooosh— CRASH!
Neigh!
A short spear cleaved the air and buried itself in the ground—the horses reared in fright. The column ground to a halt in an instant, soldiers scrambling in disarray.
Dum dum dum dum dum.
And in that very gap, dust rose from within the forest, and something came pouring out.
The Antelopes.
Fifty riders in total, yet what followed was a movement of breathtaking fluidity.
"Front ranks, clear the way!"
"Spread the flanks!"
At the lead, Calix lowers his upper body and surges forward. Behind him, Volga and the senior mercenaries follow, carving a single straight line, while Royce and Marik in the second formation spread like wings to either side.
CRASH, CRACK, CLANG!
"F-form up……. Gaaaah!"
The soldiers who had been bunched together are torn apart. Human screams, the terror-filled cries of horses, and the sound of metal shearing through flesh all rang out at once.
"Antelopes, reverse!"
But the assault does not end with one pass. The moment they severed the convoy's forward column, the Antelopes peeled off in a wide arc, already preparing a second charge.
Target: the rear of the column.
"Get behind the wagons!"
"Close ranks!"
"They're outnumbered!"
The Imperial soldiers managed to devise some response even through the chaos, but military discipline crumbles beneath a single slash.
[Reality Acceleration 2.6x]
[Core Mana Unlocked]
Calix's neural accelerator warps the world, and immediately, a fierce blaze erupted across the surface of his blade.
Snap, crackle—
WHOOOOSH!
Falling sparks, radiant embers, scorched the battlefield. They dismantled wagons and armor, swords and shields alike without distinction.
"An upper-rank knight!"
"……It-it's the Antelopes!"
Two or three soldiers screamed in voices thick with horror. They turned their heads as if searching for help—but flames were already rising in the middle column of the convoy as well. That was Royce's handiwork.
With that, the Imperial soldiers' will to resist evaporated entirely.
"Ugh, boring……. Ow!"
"You idiot, stop saying things like that."
Volga gets smacked in the back of the head by his mentor. Because the dwarf's arms were inherently too short, he had thrown a dedicated block of wood instead.
But he had spoken the truth.
The battle ended before ten minutes had passed. The enemy scattered in a fragmented state, barely having fought at all, and only those given the Antelopes' permission fled to carry the news.
"To think that fifty warhorses could pull this off……."
"There's no need for a real knighthood anymore. Those bastards even called our name. Looks like the rumor's been spreading."
"No time! We don't know when that thing will come chasing after us! Change into the convoy's uniforms!"
Vice-captain Marik issued rapid orders, then crouched down beside a fallen knight and pried a horn from his belt. A signaling instrument unique to the Imperial military. They had come here for exactly this.
The gazes of Royce, Calix, and Marik crossed one after another. The battlefield's stench of blood hadn't even faded, but the Antelopes had already finished preparing for the next phase.
* * *
Deep in the mountain range, at the intermediate supply base located to the southwest.
Behind the wooden palisade, wagons and storehouses were packed in tight rows. As this was the place that funneled food to the frontlines, the garrison was considerable in size—five hundred soldiers and twenty knights. And in the vicinity, a unit of two thousand stood encamped, capable of dispatching reinforcements within half a day.
And toward that place, a man drenched in blood came running, gasping for breath.
"Who goes there!"
"……I—we were attacked by the enemy! The convoy, the convoy……!"
The soldiers guarding the palisade gate closed in with spears leveled. The straggler's legs seemed to give out and he collapsed. Moments later, word must have been passed up, for a knight walked out.
"What's happened?"
"Please, please help us! We were ambushed on the way here! About fifty cavalry, and they clung to us something fierce!"
"……Antelopes."
Just then, from beyond the forest, a familiar signal rang out.
Puuuu— puuuuuuu~
Two blasts, short and long. The horn was crying out for urgent aid. But the knight did not judge rashly. Transporting food mattered, but the storage facilities mattered more. He had to doubt, and doubt again.
"Sir Knight! Why are you just standing there! Please, help us!"
"……I can't move carelessly. It could be a trap."
"Who—what could possibly be a trap here!"
"Are you injured anywhere?"
"What?"
"Search him."
Imperial soldiers pull back the straggler's clothing and inspect him. There were minor cuts here and there, but nothing seriously wounded.
"You've been splattered with that much blood, yet your body is comparatively intact."
"……."
"You must surely be—"
A spy, without a doubt. The knight attempted to interrogate with a tone of absolute certainty, but the other man moved first.
"You son of a bitch!"
"……What?"
The unexpected obscenity stopped him cold. But that was only the beginning. The straggler's face flushed red as he launched into increasingly vile language. Tears glistened faintly at the corners of his eyes, and spittle flew with every word.
"You wretched, miserable bastard! My brothers died in my place, that's why I don't have wounds! And all you want to do is keep your own damn toe from moving? Aren't you afraid of His Imperial Majesty! You coward!"
"I'm-I'm not afraid! The order of priorities here……."
"Order of priorities my ass! If you're that scared, you should've stayed in your mother's womb! Should've never come out, just kept wiggling those godforsaken toes in there!"
"……."
Profanity on a level that had never even been conceived of.
At that, the Imperial soldiers furrowed their brows and closed in—then, abruptly, patted him on the shoulder.
"……Kotan, sir, in my opinion, I think this is actually one of ours. A Kingdom man wouldn't be able to talk this coarsely. His accent is also flawless."
"……?"
"Mm, I suppose that's true. Astria men wouldn't have this kind of nerve."
Thanks to that, suspicion evaporated, and shortly after, roughly half the garrison marched out through the gates.
Watching them go, the straggler's shoulders dropped—and he sank to the ground with a thud. He looked as though he had not a shred of strength left to stand, but in truth, it was the relief of having succeeded in his assigned task.
He was Wheatley, born in the northern reaches of the Astria Kingdom, now a mid-ranking mercenary of the Antelopes.
Two hours after that.
Men clad in Imperial uniforms returned to the supply base.
Most flew the banners of the transport battalion and pulled supply wagons, and only a handful among them resembled soldiers from the base itself. They patted one another on the shoulder and laughed quietly, and the soldiers guarding the base naturally opened the gates.
"You won, then. But why are there so few of you? Where's the main force?"
"They stayed behind for cleanup."
"I see."
Because the wagons had to be brought inside, the thick gate doors were flung wide open on both sides.
And then—
"Oh, right—what happened to the Antelopes? Did you finish them off for certain, or did they just run away?"
"They're right here."
"……What?"
Only then did the soldier register that the faces were unfamiliar. The transport battalion, that could be explained—but even those who had returned to the base were strangers.
Yet before he could shout a word, blades spoke first. The Antelopes burst forward without hesitation, and blood scattered from every direction.
That night, the key supply base situated in the Northern Mountain Range fell into the hands of unknown assailants.
* * *
The truly capable were, for the most part, deployed on the front lines. It was precisely because of that that the Antelopes had been able to swallow the supply base so effortlessly.
"Good lord……. Is all of this really food?"
"At a minimum, this could feed thousands."
"Thousands? This could feed ten thousand!"
In the immediate aftermath of the battle, Gregor let out a pure, unguarded exclamation. Grain was piled up literally like a mountain. Dozens of supply wagons rolling in and out every day, thousands of food sacks flowing back and forth.
From the Niboria Empire's perspective, there was no facility more critical than this. Because soldiers need grain and fodder to swing swords and send knights charging on horseback.
In other words, this was a place that absolutely could not stop.
"Hey! Anyone there? What are you doing, open up!"
"Yeah, yeah, coming!"
"……They're here again."
And so for exactly three days, the supply ran dry.
On the surface, everything still looked busy. Flags fluttered, soldiers stood watch in proper formation. The storehouses opened and closed as normal, and supply wagons rolled in to unload cargo.
But while things came in, nothing went out. The Antelopes had seized the burrow, and the Empire's lifeblood was completely cut off.
Yet where there is a beginning, there is an end.
As the sun began to tilt, Calix was wiping blood from his blade when he absently turned his head. Not far away, Ella knitted her fine brows. The gazes of the two crossed in midair. Not a single word was exchanged, yet both felt the same thing.
It was coming.
A shadow—heavy and dense. A silence so complete that not even breath could be felt. Slowly pressing in, consuming roots and insects beneath the earth as it came.
Ella's eyes trembled in fine ripples. The Holy Grail she held within her heart swayed faintly, as if rejecting a wicked presence.
Calix moved directly toward Royce.
"Commander."
"……Has the time come?"
"Yes. It's coming."
With a single tilt of the captain's head, the Antelopes began to move without a moment's hesitation. They hoisted barrels of oil and poured them across every corner of the storehouses. Dry timber had already been stacked in place, so even a small ember would spread into something far larger.
"Move quickly!"
"The Imperial bastards won't even be able to imagine what's happening."
"Heh, this is what real war looks like."
The preparations were completed in no time, and the mercenaries climbed onto their warhorses, ready to depart. The finishing touch was left to Royce, the captain. He swung his blade through the air, and shattered sparks flew into the interior of the storehouse.
Whoooosh.
As the flames spread, fifty-some riders left the base behind. With a great fire raised, what came next was for those who arrived to deal with.
* * *
The following day, in the early hours before dawn.
The Niboria Imperial forces stationed nearby came rushing to the scene. The night before, they had spotted flames blazing from the direction of the base and panicked.
A grand force of fifteen hundred soldiers and a hundred knights. They arrived in only a few hours and stared in blank silence at the devastation laid out before them.
"……This can't be."
"Who in the world would do this……."
The knights shook their heads, their faces drained of color. The smoke rising high into the sky made it difficult to approach. Even so, in the slim hope that something might remain undamaged, they made their way toward the storehouses to salvage whatever food they could.
"That section is still intact over here!"
"This side too……! It looks like the flames didn't reach here, thank heaven!"
At the commander's orders, several knights personally ran inside to inspect the remaining sacks. Two of the storehouses appeared to have narrowly escaped the fire.
"Could this be the work of the Antelopes?"
"They said it was fewer than a hundred men at most."
"Regardless, with an upper-rank knight involved, I suppose it's possible."
The middle-aged knight ground his teeth and surveyed the remaining traces. He found a stack of provisions that had burned with uncanny precision and let out a brief sigh.
"The fire was set with remarkable skill. How on earth is it this precise……."
That was the moment.
Thud.
Something shook the earth. Then again—thud—the entire ground trembled. Immediately after, a strange sound began approaching from outside the base.
Squelch, squelch, glug.
From the outer perimeter of the base, a wave of viscous liquid came surging in, treading across the burnt-out ash. Like a river running in reverse, it submerged all the way to the deepest interior in a single rush.
"Ambush from the rear! Everyone, arm yourselves!"
The soldiers instinctively formed ranks, and the knights drew their swords with rallying cries.
Right then.
Splash.
It came.
[Ca-lix.]
Twelve eyeballs. The voice was low and deep—the mere act of speaking struck at the human soul. Nothing about it resembled a person, and yet the pronunciation was unmistakably precise.
The Draug was still following a single name.
"That thing……. What is it……."
"Don't charge recklessly! Hold formation!"
"The neural accelerators……. Neural accelerator output dropping! Everyone, be careful!"
Dense smoke and polluted air. Visibility was distorted, and inhaling the fumes was already reducing the output of the neural accelerators—yet the Imperial forces kept their composure to the end. With a horrific entity before them, they poured every last effort into maintaining their reason.
Drip, drip.
But the long, extended limbs bent at irregular angles. Between the blackened, rotted skin, pale structures that might or might not have been bone came into view—and another heavy step shook the earth once more.
Thud.
[Ca-lix.]
Once again, a name rang out deep and long. In itself, it was an incantation. A curse. An obsession as suffocating as it was absolute.
The Draug did not look at the knights. The commander, the soldiers—they were nothing more than a fragment of scenery with no meaning whatsoever. Its eyes gazed solely toward the northwest, the direction in which the Antelopes had disappeared.
[So you seek to use this body as a stepping stone.]
Remarkably, the monster had dimly read Calix's intent. He had lured it in, then directed it toward the enemy. Yet this fact brought no displeasure.
[……The harder the hammering, the stronger the iron becomes.]
More suffering, more death. That, in essence, was what it meant to grow stronger. It too had been born by treading upon countless deaths.
"You-you insolent—!"
[Heated by fire and cooled by blood, become a blade keen and true.]
WHOOOOSH!
In that instant, the black viscous liquid moved like rainfall falling in reverse.
[These are things that must be killed anyway.]
Gyaaaaaaah!
[Impurities……. I shall gladly clear away.]
And then, not just the Imperial soldiers—every living thing on the earth was erased. Human forms disappeared, and weapons melted and ran.
Only the wind remained, raking through the ash of what had burned and turned to nothing.