Chapter 40: Like a Tidal Wave (5)
"Retreat! Retreat!"
In the midst of the torrential rain, Calpion’s forces began to fall back.
"Don’t let a single one of them escape!"
Daphne’s soldiers chased after them.
It was a bizarre sight— the side with barely half the numbers was driving back the larger force.
"Archers, cover us and buy some time!"
"Tie them up as much as possible!"
Calpion’s knights lifted logs to block the legs of the charging men and occasionally rained arrows to stall their advance.
It was a strategy they could attempt only because their numbers were still vastly superior.
But even that wasn’t simple.
"Aaargh!"
"Where are you shooting, damn it!"
"B-but I can’t see anything in front of me!"
They slipped and fell on the rain-slick ground, tangled with each other, and their arrows flew astray, piercing their own comrades’ shoulders.
When they had been blocking Daphne’s charge, this rain had been a boon, but now that they were in retreat, there was no greater obstacle.
At that moment, Viscount Ruder, who was in the lead, shouted.
"Ugh! What disgrace is this! To someone like Daphne... to someone like Daphne!"
"F-Father…."
His face twisted with rage, and the face of the Great Young Master Donfel behind him turned deathly pale.
‘That bastard Hardin… was he always this strong?’
Even seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn’t believe it.
Hardin Daphne, who until recently couldn’t even wield mana and was nothing but a wretch.
When he heard that Hardin had defeated Donfel, he simply assumed it was because Donfel had let his guard down.
But the moment he saw Hardin cut down Andrea and the Twin Mace Knights, his thoughts changed completely.
‘That’s a monster.’
And that wasn’t the only problem.
‘And those brutes like mountain bandits earlier… what were they?’
Those bastards who had suddenly leapt out from both flanks, swinging massive logs and shattering the knights’ formation— he couldn’t understand any of it.
For Viscount Ruder, who had been so certain of victory, everything from start to finish was a tangle of questions.
‘A trap? These bastards… did they actually anticipate this war and prepare everything?’
Nothing else made sense.
There was no way a Daphne that had been on the verge of collapse could push them back like this.
"W-what do you intend to do, Father?"
When the Great Young Master Donfel asked, Viscount Ruder furrowed his brow and shouted.
"We return to the manor for now! And then we prepare properly for the territorial war again. If we make it even more decisive…."
Yes, this time hadn’t been perfect.
But if they could just manage to retreat here— then rally the full power of the house and crush them—this could be buried as a mere mishap.
In terms of territory, citizens, wealth, and influence over the neighboring houses, their family was far ahead.
If there was just one more chance.
Then they could win as many times as needed.
‘Hardin Daphne….’
Grit.
His teeth ground roughly.
Rage surged within him. He wanted to tear Hardin apart right this moment and trample the corpse beneath his feet.
The plan to drown Daphne in debt and devour them whole, the territorial war he had been so sure he would win—
All of it had shattered because of that one bastard.
‘Once I return… I will kill you, even if it costs me everything.’
Just then, Donfel shouted urgently.
"Father! We’re almost at the gorge!"
"...Alright."
Just as Donfel had said, a narrow gorge stretched between two towering mountains came into view.
Once they passed through there, Calpion’s lands and their fortress would appear.
The moment they entered, Daphne’s pursuit would end.
‘Don’t get cocky. The fight is only beginning.’
Viscount Ruder curled his lips into a smirk.
Just then, the knights’ shouts came from up ahead.
"Th-there’s something in front of us!"
"...What?"
"Neighhhh!"
The horses at the front began to slow down, and those following behind crashed into them and came to a stop.
"Why are you stopping!"
"Look at that thing ahead...."
Following the vanguard’s pointing fingers, everyone turned their gaze forward— and their eyes all went wide.
In the middle of the gorge, a barricade made of felled trees piled together like rags was blocking the passage completely.
"What... is that supposed to be?"
"I-I’m not sure. That wasn’t there when we came through earlier...."
Viscount Ruder’s face twisted uncontrollably.
---
Behind the barricade blocking the gorge.
Three burly men stood staring at the soldiers of the Calpion Viscounty across the wooden fence.
"Mikkelsen, those bastards really came this way."
"...Looks like it."
Mikkelsen, the youngest of the Maw Mercenaries, and two others— not bandits, but mercenaries.
Mikkelsen let out a deep sigh and scratched his forehead.
‘Unbelievable, this actually worked....’
[When I give the signal, you all break away from the line and circle around to another position.]
[Huh...? Is that really necessary? Wouldn’t it be better if we all fought together?]
[Better, sure, but then we’d just get surrounded together.]
The prediction that Calpion’s knights would adopt a defensive formation in the center.
And the entire sequence of events that would follow.
The strategies Hardin had explained had landed one after another as if he were foretelling the future.
Most absurd of all—
[Mikkelsen, you take some of the others and block the gorge. Set up traps to slow them down, alright? All you have to do is buy as much time as you can.]
[Block the road? Why would Calpion’s troops retreat through there?]
[They will. Absolutely.]
Hardin had predicted Calpion’s retreat and positioned them here.
Seeing Calpion’s forces really approaching, Mikkelsen couldn’t help thinking—
‘Feels like I’m possessed by some damn spirit.’
Just what kind of man was that guy?
Casually using mana restriction techniques, drilling them with bizarre training, predicting this entire territorial war and preparing in advance.
It all felt so ridiculous he couldn’t even be annoyed.
‘Well, this isn’t the time to be thinking about that.’
Mikkelsen took a deep breath to steady the trembling in his body.
"Whooo...."
For now, stopping them was his job.
Mikkelsen narrowed his brow and glared at the Calpion soldiers.
‘What choice do I have… if he says jump, I jump.’
‘Though this is pretty nerve-racking.’
Awkward smiles appeared on the faces of the Maw Mercenaries.
As that strained standoff dragged on—
"You bastards! What do you think you’re doing!"
Three or four of Calpion’s knights approached the barricade, shouting roughly.
Mikkelsen replied brazenly, as if he didn’t know anything.
"Us? Just some upstanding imperial citizens passing by."
"Move that barricade! Now!"
"Nope."
"What?"
“No means no, I said. I built this, so why are you ordering me around?”
Mikkelsen flicked his tongue as he spoke.
“You bastard! What the hell are you babbling about…!”
The knights stomped forward, bristling with fury.
Just as they came right up to the barricade, Mikkelsen slowly curled his lips into a grin.
“Ah, watch your step.”
“What?”
Rumble!
“…?!”
With a strange sound, the ground suddenly collapsed beneath their feet, and their bodies dropped straight into the pit below.
“A—a trap?”
Watching this unfold from the rear, Viscount Ruder and Donfel both scowled deeply.
That definitely hadn’t been here when they passed through before.
Barely an hour had passed since they began fighting Daphne.
And in that short time— they had built this here, of all places?
“You bastaaaaard!”
“Aaaagh!”
The knights who had fallen into the pit struggled to climb out, but the pouring rain made them slip again and again, rolling back to the bottom.
While they flailed about helplessly—
“L-Lord! The pursuers are right on our heels!”
A desperate shout rose behind them.
Thwip! Thwip!
“Gah!”
Arrows flying from the rear struck the knights, and conscripts collapsed left and right.
‘Damn it… damn it all!’
What was this insanity?
While Viscount Ruder glanced back, bewildered, Donfel stretched out his arm and shouted urgently.
“Jump over the trap! Just get over it and smash the barricade! Hurry!”
“Yes!”
Clatter!
Calpion’s knights broke into a charge, racing for the pit.
Watching them from behind the barricade, Mikkelsen shook his head and clenched a stone tightly in his hand.
“Not happening.”
Fwsh!
His eyes flared with a blue glow as he hurled the stone with all his might.
Crack! Crack!
“Gah!”
The rocks struck the charging knights squarely on their heads, and they toppled one by one into the pit.
Then, when a few of the luckier ones made it to the barricade—
“You’re not getting through heeere!”
“Uuuuagh!”
The other two Maw Mercenaries thrust their spears through the gaps in the barricade, pushing them back into the pit.
“What are you doing! Break through! There’s only three of them! Break through, I said!”
“I-It’s too narrow to push past!”
“Bows! Shoot them, you idiots!”
Thwip! Thwip!
At Donfel’s furious command, the conscripts fired crossbows and longbows, but—
Thunk! Thud!
Most of the arrows just stuck uselessly in the thick barricade.
“Yeah, not hitting us, are you? Frustrating, huh?”
“That bastard!”
Grinning broadly, Mikkelsen even started dancing behind the barricade, provoking them.
Truly infuriating.
“Aaagh!”
“Why aren’t we moving forward!”
“Don’t push! Stooop!”
The Calpion troops piled up at the mouth of the gorge, and the confusion only grew worse.
‘Those Daphne bastards… just how far did they plan all this?’
Viscount Ruder’s face turned pale.
A chill ran down his spine, and then— from behind— came the shout he least wanted to hear.
“Chaaaarge!”
While they were wasting time here, Daphne’s forces had already caught up.
“Daaaamn it! Do something! Anything! Are you telling me we can’t get past just three men?!”
It felt like being a rat trapped in a cage.
And finally…
“Go! Break through!”
“Goaaah!”
In the middle of the hundreds of troops clogged at the gorge, Calpion’s narrow, sharp wedge finally forced its way through and pushed inside.
“Damn it! Do something! Anything at all!”
The front was blocked, and the rear was collapsing without mercy.
Viscount Ruder’s mind grew hazy.
Like sand slipping through his fingers, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Th-they’re coming! The Daphne bastards are here!”
“Uuuugh! We’re dead. We’re all dead!”
Screams rang out from every side.
Viscount Ruder and Donfel turned to look.
They saw the terrified faces of Calpion’s soldiers and knights— and the gaping path in the middle of them.
‘…What is this?’
That path had somehow cut straight through Calpion’s formation and reached all the way to them, and in the very center of it…
“Meeting you again here.”
“...”
Hardin Daphne stood there, his whole body drenched in blood, wearing a blank expression.
‘Th-that bastard… what in the world…’
Viscount Ruder’s face turned ghostly pale.
The sight of Hardin’s eyes glowing an eerie blue—
Was it just his imagination, or did it truly feel like a colossal Grim Reaper was floating behind his back?
‘H-he’s here.’
Donfel’s body began to shake violently, and Viscount Ruder’s face contorted even further.
‘...How did it come to this.’
This was undoubtedly the Hardin Daphne he knew.
But that bastard… was he really the same man he remembered?
It couldn’t be. No one could change like this.
Everything was beyond prediction, nothing worked out like the way they planned.
Viscount Ruder’s lips trembled as he finally asked.
“What… what are you?”
“Hardin Daphne. You know that.”
Hardin twisted one corner of his mouth in a deliberate smirk.
At that moment—
Boom!
Suddenly, lightning split the sky overhead.
“Neighhhh!”
“Gaaah!”
Crash!
The startled horses reared up, and Viscount Ruder and Donfel were thrown to the ground.
Ordinarily, they would never have fallen from a shock like that, but they were utterly exhausted, and every shred of their attention had been fixed on Hardin.
Viscount Ruder staggered up from the mud and stared ahead.
‘He really is… a Grim Reaper.’
There wasn’t the slightest trace of expression on Hardin’s face.
Even after killing so many, he showed no sign of guilt or hesitation.
Step. Step.
Hardin walked toward him, one step, then another.
‘I… I can’t breathe…’
‘…He’s strong.’
Clench!
The pressure from the man—the murderous intent and mana pouring off him—seemed to squeeze both Viscount Ruder and Donfel from every direction.
The distance between them closed rapidly.
His heart felt ready to burst, his breathing ragged.
Then—
“You bastard!”
“D-Donfel! No!”
Unable to endure it any longer, Donfel drew his sword in one hand and charged forward, eyes blazing.
“Die!”
Swish!
The Snake Dance unfurled from his hand.
But—
Clang!
Hardin didn’t even shift from where he stood, simply knocked the blade aside with a casual flick.
Not so much as a twitch of effort, as if it were nothing.
“Ah… ah… ah….”
Despair flooded Donfel’s face.
A moment later, a thin blue line traced across his neck.
Thunk!
His head fell cleanly off, rolling across the ground.
“Donfel! Donfeeeeel!”
Viscount Ruder roared, mana surging around him.
Just as he bared his teeth and prepared to hurl himself at Hardin—
“Stop.”
Chak.
Hardin extended his sword, and blue light flashed in his eyes.
“…?!”
Viscount Ruder’s breath stopped, his body freezing solid.
‘This is…’
Was this an illusion? Or a dream?
Inside a pitch-black space, it felt as if a Hardin hundreds of times larger was staring down at him from above.
And at the same moment, a thought rose unbidden.
‘I’m going to die.’
To that bastard… I was no more than an ant.
I didn’t know why, or how that could be possible… but…
He truly looked at me as if I were that insignificant.
How could he have that kind of power…?
Thud!
Viscount Ruder fell to his knees, his sword dropping from his trembling hand.
Step by step.
With each pace that closed the distance, Viscount Ruder’s complexion grew darker.
When only about five paces remained between him and Hardin—
“W-wait!”
Viscount Ruder suddenly began shouting in desperation.
“Don’t… don’t you want to know why we invaded Daphne? I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything— just spare my life!”
But Hardin only took another step forward in silence, wearing the same blank face.
“Don’t need to.”
‘Insane… he means it.’
If this went on, he was dead.
That bastard truly intended to kill him.
Viscount Ruder bit down on his lip until it bled, then spat out words almost like a seizure.
“The Great Sage’s Record!”
Shaaah—
Even through the rain, his voice carried clear and loud.
“...”
But contrary to what he expected, Hardin’s expression didn’t even flicker.
‘Why isn’t he reacting?’
Viscount Ruder trembled violently, raising his voice again.
“The Great Sage’s Record! We were searching for the Record your ancestor, Valter Daphne, created! I’ll tell you where it is—please! Please, just spare me!”
But—
“I said… I don’t need it.”
Hardin replied with that same indifferent tone.
Swish.
“…?!”
In that instant, he felt a sudden heat in his neck, followed by the ominous sound of something being sliced.
…What is this?
“…Gah!”
Viscount Ruder’s vision tilted, and the world spun around him.
No—it wasn’t the world spinning.
His head had fallen.
In the dimming view before him, he could still see Hardin’s face.
A slight, mocking smile lifting one corner of his mouth.
“Even if you don’t tell me, I can find it easily enough.”
Short, definitive words.
Despair etched itself across Viscount Ruder’s face.
‘Wh… why… why…’
Already severed from his body, his head couldn’t even utter a final word before it stiffened forever.
Thud.
Hardin casually tossed his sword onto the ground and let out a long sigh.
His expression looked almost relieved.
At that moment, a familiar voice called from behind him.
“H-Hardin…!”
He slowly turned his head toward the voice.
There, he saw Cobalt and the Daphne Knights.
All of them were staring with vacant eyes, as if they’d seen a ghost.
To them, Hardin gave the same light smile as always.
“You’re here.”
It was the moment the territorial war reached its end.