Chapter 200

Chapter 200

The imperial army formed their ranks and pursued the barbarians. Carnius methodically exterminated the remaining barbarians.

'I will not rush it.'

Carnius bit down on his lower lip. He was eager to lead his army and seek revenge right away, but he restrained himself. Steadfast patience was Carnius' strongest weapon.

However, in honor of Leo's spirit, he intended to take no prisoners.

"Waaaaaaah!"

There was another combat erupting again. The barbarians' resistance was fierce.

The barbarians, having accepted death, were even more fearsome than before. They fought with the intention of taking their enemy’s life even if it meant their own deaths.

No matter how well-trained the imperial army was, their essence was that of professional soldiers. They had all become soldiers so they could support their families and earn money. Most of them did not want to go the distance of fighting with their lives on the line.

"Kaaagh!"

The eyes of the barbarians flashed among the imperial soldiers. Axes and spears made their way. Every time a barbarian died, a soldier died as well.

The number of barbarians had decreased significantly compared to the start. They were no match from the beginning. In fact, even if they had similar numbers as the imperial army, they would have barely stood a chance. A small ambush like this was never going to win.

"Hey, you think it’s too late to run now? Should we?"

"How are you gonna face our brothers who died before us?"

"They’ll understand."

"Would you understand if it were you?"

"Hmm. Actually, probably not."

The remaining barbarians chuckled as they faced the imperial army.

"Aaaaaah!"

A warrior wearing only a helmet charged through the imperial ranks as he screamed. He rampaged, taking the lives of two imperial soldiers before dying himself.

Fewer than a hundred warriors remained. Vald let his arm hang limply and closed his eyes.

'... I don't want to die.'

That was his true and honest feeling. However, he concealed that emotion. He had to don the mask of valor and sacrifice his life. That was the way of a warrior.

The life of a warrior was pretentious. It went against the instinctive will of all living beings—to survive.

Even if it was pretense, if one took responsibility and saw it through to the end, it became the truth.

The courage to calmly face the ending called death was the most important virtue for a warrior.

A warrior died to prove they were a warrior.

Vald took a deep breath. His heart pounded fiercely.

"I, Vald of the Stone Axe, will die here today."

There was no point in running away anymore. Vald charged forward.

"Oh, ooooooh!"

The warriors shouted their names and their tribe's name as they charged. There were less than a hundred of them, but their momentum was as if they were a grand army.

But no war could be won on momentum alone.

Schluck!

The basic principle of war was the number of troops.

"Kaaaaargh!"

Strategy and tactics were humanity's craftiness to overcome the difference in troop numbers.

The barbarians screamed. Their valiant charge was no different from running to their deaths.

"Woooaaaaah!"

Vald released a roar akin to a scream as if he was trying to encourage himself.

'Give me the courage to overcome fear and face death!'

Vald swung his sword vigorously. It was blocked by the sword of an imperial soldier. Vald did not back down; he surged forward, kicking. The imperial soldier was pushed back, stumbling into the person behind him.

"Hmph!"

Vald twisted his body to dodge an incoming spear. He grabbed the spear shaft and pulled it toward himself. The soldier holding the spear was dragged forward, meeting Vald's blade.

Thwuck!

The enemy's blood splattered on Vald's face. Vald laughed like a demon thirsting for blood.

'I lay my burden of fear that is on my shoulders onto my enemy.'

Warriors around him fell one by one. Soon, only about thirty warriors remained.

"Gugh, spit."

The warriors huddled together, shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back.

The imperial soldiers surrounded them, pushing forward with their shields.

"Come at us! You scared bitches!"

The warriors shouted. The imperial soldiers looked at them with cold eyes.

"Archers!"

Archers emerged from the imperial army. They drew their bowstrings from behind the wall of shields.

'They believe in me. They treat me as something special... as if they worship me.’

This wasn’t why he had returned to his homeland.

'I just didn't want my brothers from my home to become slaves.'

Long ago, when a man from a completely different tribe was dragged to the royal palace, Urich's heart pounded heavily. Urich then acted according to his heart which was thumping with anger and anxiety.

Urich returned to his homeland, took care of his tribe, formed an alliance, and fought the invaders.

'Vald...'

He wanted to scream. He did not harbor any sentimental hope that Vald was alive. The reality was harsh and severe. The worst was what happened the most often, and good fortune was rare.

'Vald died for me.'

Vald's choice felt vivid to him.

Urich's body felt hot. It felt as if his veins were on fire from the extremities.

'Maybe deep down, I was thinking that this wasn't my war.'

Urich had another path he could take. In the civilized world, he had a friend who would welcome him, and with his capabilities, he could have succeeded anywhere. Urich had built such skills and a reputation.

'But for Vald and the warriors, there are no other paths. The only way to survive is to fight and defeat the enemy. That's what being a warrior means...'

Urich covered his face and stood up. He swept back his hair and assessed his condition.

'My limbs move fine. Other than a bit of haziness in my head, I'm okay.'

Urich stood on his two legs. Just him standing up again was a great hope for the warriors.

'Urich will somehow get us out of this predicament.'

That was the belief that everyone held.

Urich felt the gaze of the warriors. His shoulders and back felt heavy. The warriors were hoping for a miracle from a man who had just gotten up from his injury.

'It's heavy. I want to run away.'

Urich thought of Gizzle.

Gizzle, the former chief of the Stone Axe Tribe.

‘Gizzle, you never ran away from your duties, not even in the face of death...'

Gizzle was a stubborn warrior. He believed he could fulfill the role of a chief. However, the changes that were hitting the west were too much for him to handle. Gizzle was frustrated by his own lack of ability and collapsed, but he fulfilled his duty as chief until the end.

'I can't run away saying I can't do it. Gizzle trusted me with everything and died.'

Urich snatched the insects scurrying between the blades of grass. He crushed the insects and threw them into his mouth.

Crunch, crunch.

The innards and legs of the insects were crushed between his teeth.

'I am not a spectator. This is my war.'

Urich closed his eyes. He thought of Vald. Vald was like a brother to him; they had hunted and run together even before they had grown hair in their groins.

'So this was the feeling of loss you felt, Vald.'

Urich opened his eyes wide and tilted his head.

‘Gizzle, Vald... My great brothers never ran away from death.'

Death was probably not the fate they desired.

Urich truly did not want this war. The pleasure of destruction was brief, and Urich was disillusioned watching the civilized world crumble.

It was a war Urich did not want, but he had no intention of running away just because it wasn't what he wanted.

'I won't run away from my war either. I'll face it to the end.'

Urich caught his breath and called for Georg.

"Georg, where is the nearest village? It would be good if it's a village big enough to have some defensive facilities."

At Urich's words, Georg examined the map.

"If we stop by the village to resupply, they’ll definitely catch up to us."

"No, we’re going to take the village first and then hold out."

"Are you serious? The enemy are experts in siege warfare."

"I know that better than you. I've seen it with my own eyes a bunch of times."

Georg looked at Urich with anxious eyes.

Wobble.

Urich's body swayed. Since his injury was to his head, there was still a wave of dizziness.

'Is Urich really in a state to make sound decisions?'

Georg's anxiety only grew.

It was all thanks to Urich’s judgment that they had safely escaped the encirclement. But even to Georg, who had followed him spontaneously, it seemed like a stroke of luck, a miracle.

'But if such a miracle repeats itself twice... then it must be skill.'

Georg looked at the other warriors. No one questioned Urich's judgment. Rather, there was an oddly excited atmosphere as they felt another battle approaching.

'Blind, almost maniacal faith in Urich.'

Georg felt a chill down his spine. He was unaware of the reputation Urich had built up from the west. To the warriors, figures like Urich and Samikan were practically objects of worship.