Ting!
Perhaps because he was such an exceptional warhorse, Silion twisted his head to the side in an instant, and the arrow merely grazed his barding before bouncing away.
"Aren't those guys insane?!"
For the first time in a long while, Eugene found himself in agreement with Mirian. Reaching one hand behind the saddle, he drew out his javelin thrower and spear.
They had not only fired arrows first but had even gone so far as to draw all their weapons. There was no way he was going to let that slide.
Leaning his upper body back, Eugene thrust his arm forward and hurled the spear.
Thud!
The spear pierced straight through the chest of the mercenary who had fired the crossbow, then lodged itself into the stomach of the man standing behind him.
"Graaagh!"
Skewered together like meat on a spit, the mercenary screamed as he hung from the corpse of his instantly slain comrade.
The other mercenaries didn't even have time to be shocked. In that brief moment, Silion had closed the distance and charged straight into them.
Kra-ka-boom!
Three mercenaries who collided with Silion were sent flying several meters before crashing to the ground.
Their formation collapsed in an instant, and Eugene, now wielding a shortsword he had drawn at some point, began to slaughter them.
"Aaagh!"
"Ghk!"
The mercenaries had no ability whatsoever to face a heavily armored knight mounted on a warhorse.
And when that knight was a vampire whose strength surpassed that of a human severalfold, there was nothing they could do but scream and flee in all directions.
"Run!"
Out of the thirteen mercenaries, eight were killed in the blink of an eye, and the rest scattered as they fled.
After throwing another spear and killing two more, Eugene spurred Silion toward the three who were fleeing together.
Thunk! Thwack!
"Ghk!"
The mercenaries, struck on the back of the head by the flat of his blade, let out their death cries and collapsed forward, rolling on the ground.
At that, Partek's group who had rushed over the moment the fighting began swiftly subdued them.
"These lunatics actually dared to attack a knight?"
"That's because the knight attacked us first"
"First what? Did Sir Eugene draw his sword? Or throw his spear first? You bastards fired arrows without warning what kind of bullshit is that?"
"…!"
Only then did the captured mercenary fully grasp the situation, his face draining of all color at Partek's words.
* * *
"You are truly incredible! The phrase 'worth a hundred men' must have been coined for Sir Eugene alone. Such a thunderbolt of a spear throw! I've truly had my eyes opened today, Sir Eugene!"
Mills was beside himself with excitement at Eugene's performance, which fell in no way short of his widespread reputation.
If a knight like this were to stand on the side of the Fairchilden family, he felt certain they could win the upcoming territorial war.
"Sir, how about we capture these men alive and take them back to our castle?"
"No. I don't think that's necessary. In any case, doesn't Lord Fairchilden want to gain the upper hand in the territorial war through me?"
"Oh, well… yes, that's true, but…"
"Then that's enough."
Eugene walked over to the mercenaries, who were kneeling and trembling.
"Why did you attack me?"
"..."
As if by prior agreement, the prisoners merely exchanged glances.
Shhk!
With a chilling sound, Eugene's shortsword flashed, and the head of the man on the far left was cleanly severed.
"Hhk!"
At the sight of their companion collapsing backward while spraying blood, the remaining two mercenaries turned deathly pale.
"Why did you attack me?"
At the exact same question as before, the mercenaries spoke almost simultaneously.
"We thought you were going to attack us first, sir!"
"That idiot did something stupid earlier! I never intended to attack you, sir!"
"Affiliation."
"The Mylson Mercenary Company!"
"Mylson? Is that your captain's name? Where is he now?"
"Over there…"
After confirming the corpse of the man who had fled first and been skewered by a spear, Eugene continued.
"Then what about the rest of them? The other mercenaries, not just you."
"They're standing by in a village called Rangbon."
"How many, and who's in charge?"
"About thirty men. They're being led by Rangbon's administrator. The main force is still at Lord Bommel's castle…"
"Administrator?"
"Rangbon's administrator is Lord Bommel's nephew. Sir Pascal he's both the administrator of Rangbon and a knight. His fief is Rangbon. And…"
Mills quickly added an explanation.
"It's a fairly large village, so there should also be about twenty members of the local militia. Sir Eugene, why don't you first return to our castle, gather the mercenaries, and then set out?"
"No. I'll go alone."
"Pardon?"
Not only Mills, but Partek as well, looked shocked.
No matter how strong Eugene was, going alone to a place with nearly fifty soldiers and a knight?
"I just want to talk first. If I use these guys as an excuse, they'll probably listen, won't they?"
"Well, that may be true, but…"
Though he was traveling with Mills, Eugene had no real ties to Viscount Fairchilden.
On the other hand, the mercenaries before them were officially hired by Baron Bommel. Since Eugene had been suddenly attacked by them, he had more than enough grounds to lodge a complaint.
"There's no need to worry. Would anything really change if you came along anyway?"
Since it was true that adding the three of them wouldn't change much, Partek finally let out a sigh.
"Understood."
"Then, Sir Eugene, does this mean you'll be entering into an employment contract with our lord?"
Looking at Mills's face, brimming with anticipation, Eugene nodded.
"Given how things have turned out, I can't very well refuse. Go with these fellows and tell him to entrust the matter to me."
"Oho! Sir Eugene's passionate chivalry and honorable decision will surely move Lord Fairchilden as well"
"That's enough. Let's depart immediately."
"Yes, sir! Then what should we do with these men?"
As Eugene's gaze turned back to them, the two mercenaries who had been fidgeting nervously raised their voices at once.
"Please, spare our lives!"
"If you spare us, we'll devote our loyalty to you, sir!"
"I don't need it."
"Ughk!"
"Knight, please!"
At his cold reply, the two mercenaries trembled, their faces ashen. Eugene spoke quietly.
"I don't need your loyalty. For now, play rock–paper–scissors."
"Yes?"
"If you don't, you both die."
At his words, the mercenaries' faces grew even paler.
* * *
Click, clop.
The mercenary walking ahead of the slowly moving Silion kept glancing back nervously.
'Damn it. I won, so why in the world am I the one…?'
When Eugene said he would reward the winner of rock–paper–scissors, the two mercenaries had staked their lives on it.
Anyone could tell the winner would be spared and the loser killed.
But that wasn't the case.
The winner himself had been made to guide this terrifying knight, while the losing companion was taken to Lord Fairchilden's castle.
'He's not even afraid of the night. Is there really a knight like this?'
No matter how heavily armored, knights generally avoid traveling at night.
Even the same unexpected situation requires vastly different responses during the day and at night.
Yet this knight, Yan Eugene, handed him nothing more than a single torch and continued traveling without concern even after the sun had set.
'Should I just throw the torch and run? It's so dark… maybe I could'
Temptation flickered through the mercenary's mind, but he quickly shook his head.
The horrifying events of the day still made his legs tremble.
Gambling with his life now had odds as slim as the faint moonlight hanging in the night sky.
"Stop staring so much. Why? Do you think I won't keep my promise? Don't tell me you're doubting my honor."
"No, sir!"
"Then stop fidgeting and guide us properly."
"Yes!"
Though his unease hadn't completely vanished, a promise sworn on a knight's honor was something he could trust.
"Once we cross that ridge, you'll see Rangbon."
A short while later, when Eugene reached the top of a low hill, a village about the same size as Brahms came into view.
'As expected, there's a palisade.'
The roughly two-meter-high wooden palisade, lined with bonfires, seemed to have been built to keep monsters out.
Since it was a village belonging to a territory ruled by a titled noble, it was clearly different in many ways from the villages of the Tiwyn domain.
"Let's go."
"Yes."
To march straight into a village, in the dead of night, where dozens of seasoned mercenaries and even a knight who might become his enemies were stationed.
'Either he's an absolute heavyweight, or a rare idiot. Either way, doing what he says is my best chance of staying alive.'
Since the scale tipped far more toward the former, the mercenary swallowed hard and walked down the dark road.
Then
Thud!
At the sudden sound, the mercenary halted in mid-step.
"…!"
The moment he realized, belatedly, that an arrow was stuck in the ground right in front of him, a shout rang out from the village.
"Take one more step and I'll put an arrow through your skull! Who are you!?"
"It's me! Baren!"
"Who the hell is Baren!?"
"Baren of the Mylson Mercenary Company!"
There was a brief pause from the village, and then the palisade gate opened.
One horse and about ten armed men poured out, quickly surrounding Baren and Eugene.
"Who are you, sir?"
The man on horseback asked, unable to hide his tension as he looked at Eugene clad in full plate armor.
"Yan of the Eugene family. And you?"
"I am Apiel Bommel Pascal, administrator of Rangbon."
As if boasting of his bloodline as a true noble of the Bommel family, Pascal straightened his shoulders and announced his full name.
"…!"
Eugene involuntarily paused.
Mistaking that reaction as awe at his status, Pascal lifted his chin even higher in arrogance.
But Eugene was startled for a completely different reason.
'What a stroke of luck is this?'
His thoughts were brief, his judgment swift.
Eugene nudged Baren's back with his foot and spoke.
"These man's companions attacked me first. I had no choice but to respond."
"What? Then the Mylson Mercenary Company is"
As Pascal hesitated, Eugene nodded.
"Dead, all of them except two. They attacked first, so it's not exactly something to complain about, is it?"
"Sir! The Mylson Mercenary Company is a force hired by my uncle, Lord Bommel, the master of this land! By whose authority"
Eugene cut off Pascal's barely restrained outburst.
"Oh, really? I thought you were just trying to bluff your way through by invoking Lord Bommel's name. But since I'm employed by Lord Fairchilden, I suppose we were enemies to begin with."
"…!"
Pascal was flustered by the completely unexpected reply. Eugene drew his shortsword in a flash and continued.
"That's what I came to confirm, actually. This works out well. You said Sir Pascal, right? Since our positions are obvious, let's each do what we have to do."
"Ghk!"
Ching! Clang!
As Pascal and the mercenaries hurriedly drew their weapons, Silion kicked off the ground.
At the same time, as if by prior arrangement, the torches held by the mercenaries went out one after another.
"Huh!?"
"The fire! Light the torches!"
Amid the panicked, floundering soldiers, Silion charged in within the blink of an eye.
"Aaagh!"
"Graaagh!"
Each time Eugene's shortsword danced, the screams of mercenaries rang out.
A few attempted to counterattack, but in the darkness they couldn't land proper blows, and even when they did strike by chance, the barding and plate armor deflected everything as if in mockery.
"Monster!"
"Shoot him! Kill him!"
A few mercenaries behind the palisade belatedly fired crossbows in support, but only ended up piercing the backs or calves of their own allies.
"Don't shoot! Stop shooting!"
Pascal shouted in shock and agitation, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the mercenaries' screams.
"This…"
Pascal's face drained of color in an instant.
Under the dim moonlight, the black knight rampaging freely was truly terrifying.
Less than a minute after drawing his shortsword, most of the mercenaries who had come out with him were dead or gravely wounded and fallen.
Instinctively, a single course of action flashed through Pascal's mind.
'I need to get back inside the village…'
He hastily yanked the reins, turning his horse around.
Whoooosh!
The sound of air being torn apart split the night.
Thud!Kihihihing!
Eugene's spear flew in and embedded itself in the hindquarters of Pascal's horse.
"Ugh!?"
Pascal's body lurched atop the saddle, then he pitched forward, still caught in the stirrups, crashing to the ground with the horse.
"Khk! Ngh…"
His vision spun from the impact of the fall, but Pascal struggled to get back up somehow.
Yet his limbs only flailed uselessly through the air.
"I don't know what you were thinking coming out in person, but either way, thanks for saving me the trouble."
"You…!"
Dangling helplessly by the scruff of his neck in Eugene's grip, Pascal glared at him.
Thud!
But a single punch left Pascal's body going limp.
"I'm taking Lord Bommel's nephew with me! If you want him back, come to Fairchilden Castle!"
After shouting loudly toward the village, Eugene pulled the spear out of the horse's hindquarters and immediately spurred Silion forward.
"Pascal, sir—!"
The voices of the mercenaries who belatedly rushed out beyond the palisade faded into the distance.
* * *
"Is this guy really an idiot? Why did he come out himself?"
Mirian, clinging to Silion's mane, looked at Pascal slumped limply over the front of the saddle with a scornful gaze.
"How should I know? Either way, it works out for me. I was wondering how to get inside."
"Kekeke! They say people destined for greatness are blessed with incredible luck! As expected, our lord is guaranteed success! So now we go see that lord called Fairchilden, right?"
"No."
"Huh? What do you mean? We caught him, so aren't we taking him to the castle?"
"That was the plan, but I came up with a better idea."
If they exchanged prisoners and then formally waged a territorial war, it would take longer, and there would be a high chance of various unforeseen situations arising.
'In that case, better to finish it swiftly.'
A cold smile crept across the vampire's lips as he cut through the darkness.
(To be continued in the next chapter)