Ch#138
138
A blade-like wind swept across the frost-covered earth.
Tairon frowned, feeling the tiny ice particles floating in the air scrape harshly against his cheeks.
As the shimmering white atmosphere settled, the panoramic view of the Argand Forest filled his vision once more.
He gripped the horse’s reins and peered sharply through the shadows of his low-slung robe at the path steeped in gray gloom.
At the entrance of the silent forest trail, fine frost powder drifted slowly, catching the faint light.
At a glance, he couldn’t tell what part of the seemingly peaceful landscape had caught his attention. After scanning the surroundings with narrowed eyes, Tairon eventually looked back over his shoulder.
Lowell, the guild master of the massive merchant alliance that wielded influence across both the Eastern and Northern regions, was following slowly in formation with his subordinates.
Tairon carefully scanned the pale faces that looked somewhat exhausted from the long journey, then checked the two wagons at the very rear of the line and the eight of his own men stationed around them.
Finally confirming that nothing was amiss, Tairon drove his horse forward along the path again.
Just then, a rustling sound came from ahead.
Instinctively sensing it wasn’t the sound of the wind, Tairon immediately drew his sword. Simultaneously, arrows came flying from between the trees.
“Ambush!”
As Tairon shouted while narrowly deflecting an arrow, the warriors drew their swords all at once. However, the enemies were a step faster. Dozens of mysterious figures sprang from the ground covered in thick fallen leaves and threw snares around the legs of their horses.
The startled horses jumped violently, letting out loud, frantic cries.
He tensed his thighs to keep from tumbling out of the saddle and instinctively swung his longsword.
With a wet, slicing sound, hot blood splattered onto his face. Beyond his chaotic vision, he saw a man retreating while clutching a blood-soaked forearm. The man wore a helmet made from an animal skull over his face.
‘Are they Zram people?’
Tairon, his face contorted grimly, spurred his horse to pursue the retreating man.
But this time, a long spear lunged out from the left. Tairon, narrowly preventing his horse’s flank from being pierced, yanked the reins violently.
His agitated warhorse, Elak, snapped the rope binding its ankles and reared its front legs high. Soon after, the skull of the man who had attacked him was crushed like a soft pumpkin by the hooves of the massive warhorse.
Seeing the sight, the enemies faltered and backed away. Not missing the opening, Tairon turned his horse’s head and checked the rear.
The northern merchants were managing to hang onto their saddles, drawing their blades to resist the enemies. However, those without military training could not possibly respond properly to an ambush.
Soon, a merchant was knocked off his horse by a Zram warrior. Recognizing him as the guild master of the White Silver Alliance, Tairon immediately spurred his horse and swept his long blade in a diagonal arc.
The longsword, extending like an eagle’s wing, severed the head of the enemy approaching his charge in a single stroke.
Crushing the blood-spouting torso under his horse’s hooves, Tairon turned his head to deal with the next enemy. The enemies had already put distance between them, hiding among the trees.
As the raiders vanished in an instant, he ground his teeth and shouted toward his men.
“Don’t pursue! Reorganize the formation and take up defensive positions around the wagons!”
His men immediately surrounded the carriages.
However, the enemies didn’t seem to intend on launching a second attack right away. Surveying the forest, which was now as silent as the dead, Tairon dismounted and helped up the man sprawled on the ground. Fortunately, he didn’t seem heavily injured; the man groaned and staggered to his feet.
“Dammit, what on earth was that disaster?”
“Get your wits about you and get on your horse, fast! We have to get out of this forest immediately.”
The man, who had dark brown hair unusual for a person from Balto, climbed into his saddle while grumbling something.
After confirming the man was in a condition to ride, Tairon approached Elak again. Just as he was about to mount his horse, something lunged from right nearby.
He instinctively rolled his body. Thanks to that, he narrowly avoided the blade flying toward his flank, but he was helpless against the following attack.
Kicked in the abdomen before he could fix his posture, Tairon collapsed to the ground with a choked groan.
Before him, a man with golden eyes clad in animal skins approached like the wind and raised a crescent-shaped sword. Sensing death, Tairon’s entire body went rigid.
At that moment, a long spearhead erupted through the assailant’s chest.
“Gah!”
The golden-eyed man spat blood and looked back.
Tairon, turning his gaze reflexively with him, widened his eyes as he discovered a pale, glowing blond man mounted on a gray warhorse.
The man, whose face was so cold it was hard to believe he was a living person, lifted the spear shaft with one hand. Then, the body of the assailant, pierced through the abdomen like a fish on a harpoon, rose into the air and cut through the atmosphere in a large arc.
The axe-blade of the halberd, swung at a terrifying speed, sliced through the waists of three Zram people who had positioned themselves around him. It was a monstrous strength that was hard to believe no matter how many times one saw it.
“What are you doing standing there blankly? Take up defensive positions immediately.”
The man, who ruthlessly slammed the corpse hanging from the tip of his spear to the ground, gave orders in a dry tone.
Only then did Tairon snap back to his senses and hurriedly pull himself up. However, the enemies were already retreating rapidly, seemingly having lost their will to fight.
Barkas nodded toward the warriors following him.
“Pursue them at once.”
As soon as his order fell, dozens of knights dashed into the trees.
The ruler of the East, watching the scene with an expressionless face, lowered his gaze back toward him.
Tairon, barely regaining his composure, hurriedly showed his respect.
“I owe you my life, Grand Duke.”
“You were lucky, Drakan. If we hadn’t been conducting a search after receiving a report that a group of raiders was camping in the Argand Forest, you would have suffered a great disaster.”
The answer came not from the Grand Duke of the East, but from Daren Drew Sherkan, who served as his aide.
He led his horse out from between the trees and looked around at the corpses scattered on the ground.
“Anyway, I didn’t know the Zram people were acting up as far as the area near Kalmor.”
The man clicked his tongue and turned his head toward the ruler of the East to ask a question.
“Wouldn’t it be better to start a subjugation before the cold wave hits?”
“……The timing is not good. For now, we will take measures such as expanding the reconnaissance network and controlling the roads.”
The man, who handed his blood-soaked halberd to his squire, turned his gaze toward the frozen northern merchants. Every single one of them had an expression as if they had encountered a ghost.
The ruler of the East pulled his horse toward them and offered a greeting in a dignified tone that didn’t suit the situation.
“Welcome to Kalmor. I regret that you had to experience such an unpleasant incident from your first day.”
“Ah, no, Grand Duke! These things always happen when leading a merchant group.”
The merchant bowed his head with a polite attitude. As the head of a massive guild, he seemed to have recognized Barkas’s identity immediately.
The man poured out flattery with skillful speech.
“Anyway, your prowess is truly amazing. The reputation of the continent’s strongest spear knight is certainly no exaggeration. If I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes, I would never have believed Your Grace’s majesty. How could such a lithe frame possess such immense strength……!”
“Let’s save the small talk for later. Getting out of the forest is the priority right now.”
A dry voice, devoid of any emotion, cut off the merchant’s flattery.
The northerner bowed his head immediately without showing any embarrassment.
“Of course! I will quietly follow behind Your Grace.”
As the northerner signaled to his subordinates, the men reorganized the formation all at once.
Barkas, watching the scene with sharp eyes, eventually turned his horse’s head. Tairon rode on his left, carefully scanning the surroundings for any potential ambushes. Fortunately, they were able to reach the edge of the forest without much trouble.
Just as he was breathing a sigh of relief, Barkas, who had been riding with perfect posture, suddenly pulled out a bow.
Did an enemy appear?
Tairon immediately drew his sword.
Barkas, who was quietly watching the deep shadows of the forest, pulled back the bowstring. Soon after, a sharp cry rang out along with the sound of fluttering wings.
He looked at Barkas with a bewildered face, unable to grasp the situation. At that moment, the hound that had been following silently as if it weren’t there dashed out like the wind and returned carrying something in its mouth.
“……A pheasant?”
Tairon blinked blankly.
The large hound proudly presented the bird pierced by the arrow to its master.
Barkas hopped down from his horse, pried the pheasant from the dog’s jaws, tied its legs with a leather strap, and hung it from his saddle.
Only then did Tairon notice three or four brown female pheasants hanging in a cluster near the horse’s rump.
Daren explained in an awkward tone to him, who wore a bewildered expression.
“The Grand Duchess likes pheasant meat. It seems easier for her to eat because it has less of a gamey smell.”
