Chapter 122

Translator: Willia

Ricardt crossed the mountain pass with sixty soldiers. In other words, he had crossed the border of the Adeloron Kingdom.

The mountain path stretched gently downward. It was so gradual that it was hard to even call it a mountain road. Far off in the distance, a dense forest stretched all the way to the horizon.

He had known this before, but walking through it now, he briefly wondered if this was really the right path. It felt somewhat burdensome for a group of sixty people to pass through at once.

In terms of military strength, it was an exceedingly small number, yet it wasn’t small enough to freely move through the forest without restriction either.

Originally, there were paths meant for a lone traveler, paths for trade caravans, and paths wide enough for armies to march. Depending on the size of the group, one couldn’t simply use any road.

This path had long been used by people, so there was no need to worry about attacks from beasts or monsters. However, given the situation, concern was inevitable.

Because the forest was so dense, even viewing from high ground made it difficult to detect an ambush.

Had the enemy already taken a detour and settled in the forest? Stationing all five thousand soldiers in the woods would be a difficult task. Then perhaps the main camp was elsewhere, and they had split their forces for an ambush? Or had they simply not arrived yet?

Various possibilities and questions arose. But it was the commander’s job to make judgments and decisions amidst such uncertainties. If he made the wrong call, he would pay a harsh price.

“Hm......”

Ricardt fell into contemplation before entering the forest. Eventually, he resorted to a last-ditch measure. A last-ditch measure meant a method used reluctantly.

“We’ll go in two columns. Each column will keep an eye on both sides, and if a fight breaks out, drop your polearms. Hide behind the trees as much as possible and fight with secondary weapons.”

Ricardt gave the order.

The soldiers nodded. Since they had been supplied with weapons from the royal armory, their equipment was quite good, and they had some confidence in close combat.

Thus, the sixty soldiers were divided into two groups of thirty and entered the forest in two columns. Ricardt led them at the front.

The shadow of the forest covered the soldiers and Ricardt. It was pleasantly cool, yet at the same time, an unpleasant chill crept over them.

It would be fortunate if nothing happened while passing through the forest, but that didn’t mean they could feel entirely at ease.

To continuously ensure the safety of the supply line, it was necessary to seize control of the forest itself. However, with the current manpower, that was utterly insufficient. So did they have to brace for battle with anxiety every time they passed through?

It was truly a difficult matter.

In any case, they passed through the forest to purchase food to survive the winter.

Because they were a small group, their marching speed was fast. It wasn’t intentional, but their footsteps weren’t loud either, making their movement quieter than expected.

About half a day had passed. They had departed from Adelivari in the morning, and after the morning hours passed and the sun was high in the sky, it happened.

Ricardt’s sharp senses picked up an unfamiliar sound, and he immediately halted the march. No one looked particularly tense, but they all watched the forest closely.

Ricardt focused his nerves and listened intently. A strange sound came from far off to the right. It sounded like someone hammering wood, like a hammer striking a tree.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be an ambush.

“It’s dangerous to stay on the road. Everyone, hide behind trees or in the bushes. You, you, you, and you. Come with me.”

Ricardt pointed out a few familiar soldiers, then led them toward the direction of the sound.

They hadn’t walked far before the sound became louder. It was clearly the sound of construction, along with people talking.

As they got even closer and were able to somewhat distinguish the voices, they finally saw the enemy before their eyes. At a suitable spot, they were cutting down trees, leveling the ground, and clearly preparing to build a base.

Ricardt thought, Ah, as expected, and at the same time, felt relieved they had discovered it in advance.

But what could they do when five thousand enemy soldiers were swarming around? Once the base was completed, their supply line could be cut off.

However, just like in life, war was the same. If you avoided something just because it was dangerous or difficult, even greater danger and hardship would be waiting.

“Go bring everyone here.”

“Are we attacking?”

A soldier, looking as if he had been overwhelmed by Ricardt's order, asked. Ricardt glared at him and spoke through gritted teeth.

“I do not give orders twice.”

When he had to be firm, he had to be firm. There was no other choice.

The soldier hurried back to call the rest of the troops, and soon the remaining soldiers arrived.

They had eyes of their own, so when they saw the enemy building a base with hammering sounds echoing, they sucked in a breath. Their hearts pounded.

The number five thousand was equivalent to the population of a decent mid-sized town.

Even though only one side was visible due to the forest, just the cranes, construction equipment, logs, and stones being used were enough to overwhelm them with the sheer manpower involved.

“Pull yourselves together and listen carefully. We’re going to strike from the flank. I’ll take out that crane. The rest of you set fires and kill anything in your path, but do not scatter. Once we break through the enemy camp, run straight toward that peak over there.”

Ricardt’s orders didn’t really register clearly in their ears. All they remembered was the peak, and not to scatter.

“I promise you one thing. No one will die.”

Ricardt spoke with a certainty that was nearly prophetic. Then, drawing his sword, he charged toward the enemy camp. The soldiers followed him, running after only the red surcoat on his back.

The enemy had been resting, laying logs on the ground, stringing ropes to move stones, and doing various things, but when sixty men suddenly burst out of the forest, they were shocked. It was clear from the momentum that this was no joke.

On paper, it was five thousand against sixty, but to those actually on the scene, it felt like a 60-to-1 fight. No, it didn’t even feel like a fight, they just had to run for it.

"What the fuck!"

"It's an attack!"

The enemies shouted in panic and ran, stumbling over themselves. Regardless of the commotion, Ricardt and his sixty soldiers ran straight ahead without looking around.

Then Ricardt surged forward like a bolt and in a flash, sliced through the support beam of the crane.

The large crane tilted slowly and collapsed, with its massive axle, resembling a waterwheel, crashing down and breaking apart with a loud crack.

Around that time, the emergency bell rang.

DING DING DING DING DING DING!

Dust rose in clouds, and the enemies shouted in chaos, yelling at the top of their lungs. Their words were so jumbled that nothing could be understood. Regardless, the alarm signaled that an enemy had appeared.

Ricardt and the soldiers kept running forward, and rather than killing enemies, it was more like ramming through and trampling over them. When they reached what seemed like a campsite, someone had set it on fire, and flames began to rise.

The enemies, thrown into confusion, could no longer tell what was what. In contrast, Ricardt and the soldiers had a clear direction. Just run forward, no matter what.

Of course, some of them fell to the ground, and some were delayed because frenzied enemies grabbed at them and they had to stab their way free.

Whenever that happened, Ricardt, who had been cutting down enemies at the front, appeared like a ghost, killed the enemy, and brought the soldier back.

At that, the soldiers’ morale surged, and they shouted without realizing it.

“The prince has returned!”

“Make way!”

That had practically become the official rallying cry of the Adeloron border army, and coincidentally, it fit the situation perfectly.

But the enemy was no pushover either. Even amidst a surprise attack, they quickly reorganized their formation. Even if only one thousand of the five thousand gathered their wits, it would be nearly impossible to survive.

“Raven Mercenary Corps, gather! Gather!”

“Just grab your weapons!”

“Where are the enemies!?”

“Left side!”

“No! It’s the right!”

“Rangers! RAAANGERS!”

The invincible Grantz had several mercenary corps under his command, and those corps had numerous sub-groups.

The five thousand troops consisted of four to five combined mercenary corps, and countless sub-groups, naturally resulting in a wide range of combat proficiency.

So, some of the mercenary units, even amidst the chaos, tried to grab their equipment and hold their positions, attempting to form a defensive wall, while others chased Ricardt and the soldiers or tried to block their path.

Of course, those who tried to block their way were instantly smashed by Ricardt. When a golden streak was drawn in a long straight line, the flimsy wall collapsed, and the soldiers swarmed in behind it.

They broke through the wall and kept charging forward. It was almost like a chariot unit led by a horse.

Yet even during all this, the enemy began reorganizing their formation and, rather than recklessly engaging Ricardt directly, began attempting to encircle them from a wide angle.

Someone shouted.

“The retreat path is blocked! Surrender now!”

It seemed to be a commander, but he wasn't visible. So Ricardt just shouted back.

“Who said we’re retreating!? We came here to smash you!”

When Ricardt yelled that, the soldiers’ morale soared even higher. The deep fear they had felt seemed to transform into a kind of madness.

“Waaaaaaaaa!”

Without even realizing they were out of breath, they shouted loudly and charged like fire. No matter how experienced the mercenaries were, in that kind of chaos, they couldn’t hold the line.

In a flash, several of their formations were broken through, and Ricardt and his men pierced right through the enemy camp. The path they left behind was utterly devastated.

Having achieved the first phase objective, it was now time to survive.

“Run to the peak!”

Ricardt shouted. From that point, the soldiers focused only on the distant peak beyond the forest and ran toward it.

Perhaps because they were originally mountain troops, their stamina was monstrous. They kept running without tiring.

Amid all this, Ricardt moved across the front, sides, and rear, cutting down enemies and pulling up any who had fallen behind. Because of this, there truly were no casualties.

But the real problem started now. The Rangers belonging to the mercenary corps had begun pursuit.

They were like deer in the forest, running swiftly and making precise shots. Even though their line of sight should have been blocked by trees, they relentlessly tracked and sniped.

They especially targeted Ricardt, who stood out. Taking down one commander was far more rewarding than several soldiers.

From this point on, Ricardt had no real method, he fought relying purely on his sharpened senses.

With inhuman perception, he either caught arrows flying at him from behind or deflected them with his sword. But he couldn’t block them all. Arrows were the most dangerous threat on the battlefield.

In the blink of an eye, arrows thudded into his body. However, thanks to his armor, the arrowheads only pricked the skin slightly.

“You fucking moron! Aim for his legs!”

Someone, likely the Ranger squad leader, shouted. He chased Ricardt without taking his eyes off him, driven by animal-like instinct.

Then, as Ricardt sprinted at high speed past a tree, the Ranger instinctively looked past it, calculating his speed and trajectory. But Ricardt was gone.

In the moment he thought, "Huh?" Ricardt suddenly appeared before his eyes and swung his sword. That was the last moment of his consciousness.

But the annoying part about the Rangers was that even with such efforts, only one could be taken down at a time. The others maintained their distance and kept sniping.

An arrow grazed Ricardt’s face. He dodged what he could, blocked what he couldn’t avoid, and kept running at full speed.

Even while doing this, he figured out from the direction of the arrows where the enemies were and how far away they were.

Ricardt’s current expression was one of intense focus. There was no room for fear or anger. As persistently as the enemy aimed for him, he retaliated with equal persistence.

Ricardt rapidly closed in on another Ranger. The man tried to hide behind a tree, but his body flinched. Because the tree and his neck had both been sliced.

With a single swing, the thick tree was cut down, and his head toppled along with it from his torso.

At the stunning sight, the enemies momentarily lost their words, until the smarter among them snapped out of it and shouted.

“Forget that bastard! Aim for the soldiers!”

This put Ricardt in a difficult position. He had to draw their attention and deal with them himself, because if the Rangers chased after the soldiers, the casualties would be considerable.

It had taken half a day, about six hours, to get here, so even if they ran nonstop, it would still take a few hours to get out of the forest.

At that moment, an arrow flew swiftly through the air. But it wasn’t aimed at Ricardt. It zipped past him and struck down one of the enemy Rangers.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

From that moment on, arrows began flying in rapid succession like a coordinated volley. Ricardt flinched, but not a single one was aimed at him.

And, surprisingly, the enemy Rangers began dropping one by one. Every arrow had hit a vital point of each target with perfect accuracy.

Is someone else here? Their level is far higher. Who is it? Startled by the unexpected turn, Ricardt quickly pressed his back against a tree.

Then someone began walking toward him from the front with steady steps. The figure wore a dark green hood. He carried a bow, but no arrow was nocked on the string.

And he wasn’t alone. From various parts of the forest, places farther away than expected, other Rangers began to appear, clearly part of a different force.

Perhaps their leader, the one in the dark green hood, spoke.

“Are you on your way to take a request?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you an adventurer?”

“...What are you talking about?”

"Did you quit? Well...... that's possible."

"Do you know me? Who are you?"

Ricardt asked. The man then pulled back his hood. He appeared to be slightly older than Ricardt.

His beard covered his jawline, and his eyes looked sleepy, not from fatigue, but just naturally looked that way.

Still, his face was somehow familiar, though Ricardt couldn’t quite place it.

“It’s me, Lester.”

“Lester, who...?”

Ricardt searched his memory, and then it hit him. The Griffin Forest. The bowyer’s grandson. He had given him some chunks of meat back then.

Meeting again after so many years in such an unexpected place left Ricardt stunned. Why is this guy here?