Swordmaster of the Great Wall

The next day.

Erich summoned Guard Squad Leader Gustav to formulate the operation. Apparently, Gustav had already heard something about it; his face was utterly pale by the time he arrived.

"... So, you're saying you plan to take on thousands of Barbarians with just 500 men?"

"And?"

"This is truly insane."

Well, it wasn't as if Gustav was being unusually cowardly.

Even Frederick and Barnes, who had seen Erich's power several times before, couldn't hide their concerns when they heard about the plan the previous day.

From a rational perspective, this wasn't even a fight that could be considered fair.

In a standard engagement against Barbarians, it usually takes at least ten Watchmen to subdue one without injury, let alone when the Watch was at such an overwhelming disadvantage this time.

Erich pointed at the map spread out on the table.

"I understand you're uneasy, but there's no need to worry. This isn't the reckless act of a madman nor a ploy to take everyone down with me."

"... Hmm. Honestly, I'd like to believe the fortress commander entrusted this to you because he has some plan in mind...."

Gustav glanced sidelong at Erich, as if probing for a clever idea. In response, Erich lifted the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

"There are two ways to repel Barbarians. One is to kill them all in a chaotic melee. The other is to take out their leader."

"... That sounds simple enough. Is it really as easy as you say?"

"That's why the plan has to be good. For instance, I heard their leader is called a Head Hunter... do you know anything about him?"

"I do. He's the one who's tormented us for months. He started out with a few hundred, but now his numbers have swelled to thousands. He's monstrously strong."

"How have you managed to deal with him until now?"

"Do you think we had some great method? We just scattered and defeated them piecemeal, driving them out with sheer numbers. It's not like we have a Swordmaster on our side."

Gustav gave a wry chuckle as he spoke. But Erich was startled at his words.

'They managed to repel the Head Hunter even without a Swordmaster? That's even more surprising.'

Of course, whether Swordmasters or Head Hunters, they might wield superhuman power, but that alone shouldn't be able to overcome overwhelming numbers. Follow current novels on novelFɪre.net

However—

Listening to Gustav, it sounded as if Commander Richter had been repelling them with even fewer men all along.

And not just through a stroke of luck or two, but consistently enough that the fortress was still standing.

Considering that this fortress would remain intact for nearly ten more years, there was no denying that Richter was truly capable.

But Erich's own solution lay precisely there.

"Our basic strategy is piecemeal defeat as well."

"... Piecemeal defeat? How are we supposed to split up an enemy that's on the defensive?"

Gustav tilted his head in puzzlement. Piecemeal defeat involved luring the enemy out and dividing their forces.

But luring out an already defensive enemy was close to impossible.

While Gustav voiced his doubts, Erich confidently pointed at the Barbarian camp on the map.

"When you have Barbarians in the hundreds or thousands, they usually bring their families along. You must know this from living here so long, right?"

"Yes. If the warriors abandon their positions, another tribe might take the opportunity to ransack them. But why do you ask? Don't tell me you're thinking of taking hostages in the middle of the night?"

"Of course not. Barbarians see better at night than you do—how could I even try? But if we make use of this, we might end up isolating the Head Hunter, leaving him alone."

"... That sounds simple, but how do you intend to do that? You've heard I'm a thickhead, so just tell me straight."

Erich began to explain the operation slowly: how they would lure the enemy out, use their dependents, and finally, by what means they'd leave only the leader to secure victory.

After listening to everything, Gustav looked deeply troubled. For him, this was the dilemma of a lifetime. Leading hundreds of men to repel thousands of Barbarians—there was no precedent for such a plan.

Erich added a word to reinforce Gustav's resolve.

"You don't have to trust me. Just believe in Commander Richter's discernment in choosing me. Besides, don't you all follow orders to the death?"

"You always have a way with words.... So, are they coming too? I'd rather not get us all killed alone."

"They'll be joining us."

Erich glanced over at Frederick and Barnes, who had been quietly listening. Frederick let out a dry laugh.

"Well, our boss here does come up with crazy plans from time to time. But he's not the sort to send us to die for nothing."

"... I'll go."

Frederick accepted calmly. Barnes's eyes shone with determination. It seemed that their conversation yesterday had made an impact.

'Barnes's eyes have sharpened—must be because he sees this as a chance to break his chains from the past.'

Barnes harbored a grudge against Joseph. Just the sight of him would normally paralyze Barnes with fear rooted in the past.

But once he heard why this mattered, and why he had to do it, Barnes was charged with motivation.

In any case, with things having turned out this way, Gustav too eventually bowed his head in resignation.

"... If it's an order, I have to follow. What choice do I have?"

Erich quietly smiled. Granting Richter's request and learning the secret of the dead—this was an easy price for him.

-clack.

Erich picked up his sword. The long blade was strapped to his waist, and one by one, they left the operations room.

Barbarians. And to slay the Head Hunter himself.

***

Deep into the night.

Barbarians holding torches caressed thick timber in the darkness, fighting off the oncoming drowsiness.

[Mmm, it's colder tonight. Looks like the Goddess has fallen into a deeper sleep.]

[Stay alert, Surga. That cunning black weasel might try another midnight raid.]

[I know. That damn Yurtan. He talks big, but he hasn't managed to drive off the crows for months.]

[All talk, just like those eastern bastards always are.]

The two Barbarians snickered. They hailed from the north beyond the Great Wall, from the east—this was their home turf.

In contrast, Yurtan had come from the west, sent by a Barbarian leading a massive horde called Ungrim.

Normally, encroaching on another's territory like this was punishable by death—

The only reason they accepted his help was not just because of the thousand or so Barbarians he led, but because Yurtan himself possessed the power of a Head Hunter.

Just then—

[Who are you calling all talk?]

[... Yu, Yurtan?]

A pair of yellow-green eyes gleamed from the darkness. The very man they'd been speaking about, Yurtan, had made his presence known.

Yurtan placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

[I know what's troubling you. But if you were going to be suspicious, you shouldn't have accepted our offer.]

[... I apologize, Yurtan. My loose lips have stirred your anger.]

But Yurtan swept back his ashen hair with a charming grin.

[We're not invaders, so there's no need to be so afraid. Ungrim's cause is a world where all Barbarians unite. The old age of solving everything with brute strength is over now.]

[... R-Right.]

Though he spoke gently, the Barbarians shrank before him. Wielding the terrifying power of a Head Hunter, 'the one who gathers heads', Yurtan was the stuff of nightmares.

No matter how much he told them to speak freely, it was easier said than done.

Whatever this grand cause of Ungrim was, the man before them was fearsome even to fellow Barbarians.

[... Hmm.]

Just then, Yurtan's brow furrowed. The two Barbarians flinched at his reaction.

[... W-what's wrong?]

[We said we were sorry—]

–Shhh.

Yurtan pressed his finger to his lips. His gaze was directed not at the two, but into the distance. In the next instant, green light blazed in his eyes.

–Weeeing.

Then, Yurtan's eyes went wide. Finally, the identity of the one piercing the darkness became clear.

[......!]

It was a Watchman.

Black hair, carelessly shorn and curly. White skin. You could sense the powerful physique even beneath his leather armor. He opened his mouth slowly.

[Didn't expect to meet you so soon. Are you the Head Hunter?]

[... You speak our language. But I've never seen your face before.]

[Most Barbarians who've seen me didn't live long. Of course you haven't.]

[Coming here alone, you're quite arrogant. If you came to make one of your cowardly surrenders, just leave. Out of respect for your courage, I won't kill you right away.]

Yurtan gave a crooked grin. In Barbarian culture, there was no such thing as surrender. Their Goddess had commanded them:

"Fight. Never retreat."

Thus, barbarians didn't comprehend the notion of surrender. They simply killed their enemy on sight.

If someone ever did surrender, they'd just be seen as a craven who'd lost their will to fight—not even worth killing.

But the Watchman merely smiled at his words.

–sreung.

A sword was drawn, clean and measured. From that single movement alone, Yurtan could tell his opponent was no ordinary man.

Yurtan unstrapped the cord binding the axe on his back and spoke.

[Surga, Ahimba. Go wake the warriors.]

[... Just for that one guy?]

[That one is stronger than everyone else in the fortress put together.]

Surga and Ahimba glanced at each other for a moment. That man, stronger than a thousand? But Yurtan's face was anything but joking.

[A-All right.]

The two quickly descended from the palisade, and Yurtan lightly jumped down the other side.

-tap.

A-nimble move, belying his massive frame. Gripping his axe, Yurtan spoke.

[The very air tingles with your killing intent. If I fight you, even I might end up returning to the Goddess's embrace.]

[Afraid? All the Barbarians I know see that as a reward.]

[Afraid? That's absurd!]

–Fwoosh!

In a flash, Yurtan kicked off the ground. A slash of green light arced where he'd been, appearing right at Erich's nose.

–KWAANG!

The Barbarian's axe and the imperial's longsword clashed, sending up a torrent of golden sparks—far too brilliant to be wrought by brute strength alone.

Moonlight glimmered off their blades as they exchanged a flurry of blows, great crashes echoing as snow scattered all around. Wet earth was exposed as the two warriors drew apart.

–shrrk.

Yurtan eyed a bead of blood sliding down from his shoulder. The wound wasn't deep, but it was menacing. After only a few exchanges, he could feel the opponent's formidable skill.

'... But I have to buy time. Whatever reason he came alone, I can't let such a threat go.'

Time was what Yurtan needed. Time until his brothers arrived. No matter how great the enemy's skills, he couldn't overcome sheer numbers.

There were thousands of Barbarian brothers in the camp. If they surrounded this man, no matter how powerful he was, he would have to kneel.

But Yurtan's eyes narrowed. Did this man not realize that? He couldn't be that stupid. But if he came knowing that...

Just what is he after? A sense of unease flickered in Yurtan's gaze.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

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