Chapter 255 - Episode 248: The Pride of the Southern Nobles ③
Baron Varga Delaweld is a mid-ranking lord with territories in the southwestern part of the kingdom.
As the head of a traditional baronial house that had been noble since the kingdom's founding, his personality is extremely arrogant, a result of both his lineage and the education he received. He believes that ruling over the people is a natural right and, typical of the southern nobles, harbors strong discriminatory feelings toward beastmen.
In the past, while serving as a guard for a food collection point during the Great War on the southwestern border, he took offense at the lenient attitude the young head of the Arqvist family—who was still only a knight-bachelor at the time—showed toward the beastmen, and he even picked fights with him. At the time, he was instead made a fool of, and later, Arqvist rose in rank to become a viscount.
Being such a man, Baron Delaweld was extremely displeased that the Betumia Republic Army began trampling through the southern part of the kingdom as if it were their own. "Foreign invaders treading with dirty boots upon the lands of the kingdom's nobility," he thought, feeling a rage that made his insides boil.
The Baron joined forces with his own territorial army, lower-ranking nobles under his protection, and other surrounding nobles to boldly challenge a unit of the Betumia Republic Army to a pitched battle. Since he had gathered a force centered around cavalry, it seemed there was a chance of victory, but because the enemy's march speed was abnormally fast, they merged with other units, and he found himself surrounded and outnumbered.
At that time, Baron Delaweld launched a desperate, all-or-nothing charge with his cavalry to break through the enemy's encirclement, barely managing to survive. Their number was a mere thirty riders.
Since then, the Baron had been conducting guerrilla warfare while hiding in the forests and mountains of the southwest, but he had finally reached his limit. Due to repeated combat, hunger from a lack of supplies, and the winter cold, his soldiers and horses died one after another, and now only twelve riders remained, including himself.
"...It's about time. Let's do it."
"Yes, sir."
At Baron Delaweld's command, a subordinate soldier dragged out a prisoner of the Betumia Republic Army they had captured beforehand and forced him to kneel.
This was in a forest slightly off the highway connecting the Earldom of Ahatz—one of the Betumia landing points—and the Marquisate of Galdwin, located around the center of the kingdom's southwest. This forest was not as vast as the Bezel Great Forest, but it possessed considerable size and was home to many monsters.
And on the highway, visible from within the forest, a baggage train of the Betumia Republic Army consisting of over a thousand people in total was advancing. They were likely delivering supplies to the units occupying the Marquisate of Galdwin.
While watching them from the corner of his eye, Baron Delaweld looked down at the Betumia soldier kneeling before him. A subordinate placed a small barrel in front of the soldier.
"~~! ~~!"
The soldier, whose hands were tied behind his back and who was gagged, let out voiceless cries while desperately bowing his head in an action that seemed to be a plea for his life.
Baron Delaweld paid no heed whatsoever to the Betumia soldier's actions—he grabbed the man's hair to force his head up, and slit his throat with the dagger in his hand.
"K...! ..."
The Betumia soldier's eyes widened in momentary surprise, and the light quickly vanished from them. From the neck of the Betumia soldier whose artery had been severed, a large amount of blood gushed out and pooled inside the barrel in front of him.
Once a sufficient amount of blood had collected, Baron Delaweld kicked the Betumia soldier's corpse aside like trash and lifted the barrel. Then, he poured the blood from the barrel over his own body.
Without showing a hint of discomfort on his face as the still-lukewarm blood flowed into the gaps of his armor, the Baron handed the barrel to his subordinate. The subordinates also took turns passing the barrel, pouring blood over their own bodies.
Once all twelve of them had bathed in blood, Baron Delaweld gave an instruction to one subordinate.
"Alright, do it."
"Yes, sir. Very well."
The ordered soldier was not enough to be called a mage, but he could use wind magic. His mana capacity was only enough to conjure a decent gust of wind once if he gave it his all.
That soldier held out his hand toward Baron Delaweld and the others, who stood lined up covered in blood. A mass of air was generated from his hand, carrying the wind—and the scent of blood—toward the rear of the Baron's group, deeper into the forest.
"...Now we just wait."
Baron Delaweld muttered this and stared into the depths of the forest. The other soldiers followed suit. A few climbed into the trees to keep watch.
After waiting for about five minutes, the soldier in the tree spoke.
"Something is approaching from the front left. Those are... Kobolds. About five of them."
"Tch. Not enough. Kill them and be done with it."
At the Baron's command, the soldiers on his left drew their swords, intercepted the Kobolds, and annihilated them in an instant.
"This time, from the front right... it's a boar."
"Not even a monster? Pathetic. Kill it."
"Yes, sir."
The soldiers on the Baron's right fired arrows, weakening the boar before it could approach, and then finished it off with spears.
Then, the lookout in the tree spoke again.
"Approaching from the front. Those are... a pack of Hobgoblins! And there are more than twenty!"
"Oh! That's perfect! Everyone, mount up!"
The now-cheerful Baron gave the order while mounting his own horse, and all the other soldiers, including the lookout in the tree, mounted as well.
"A Great Boar is also coming from the front right!"
"A pack of Kobolds from the front left! Scale of thirty!"
"Hahaha! Luck has finally turned in my favor!"
Baron Delaweld and his men's goal was to use themselves as bait to lure monsters out of the forest, and then carry out a suicidal charge into the enemy unit while leading them along. If they were going to lure them, they wanted to slam as many and as strong monsters as possible into the enemy. The Baron's wish had been granted.
"Draw them in... not yet... not yet... alright, now! Charge!"
At Baron Delaweld's instruction, everyone spurred their horses. They burst through the forest and charged toward the highway where the enemy unit was marching.
Behind them followed dozens of monsters attracted by the scent of blood. The Baron and his men galloped while maintaining an exquisite distance—not letting the monsters fall behind, but not letting them catch up either.
"Advance! This is the charge that shall grace our end!"
Shouting loudly, Baron Delaweld drew his sword and held it high. His subordinates followed suit.
The enemy unit, noticing the approach of the Baron's group and the horde of monsters, hurriedly began preparations to intercept.
The fact that it took a little time to attract a large-scale horde of monsters worked in their favor in the end, resulting in a charge that struck the rear of the enemy unit from a diagonal rear position. Caught off guard, the enemy's movements were sluggish, and they struggled to form a line. Arrows were fired sporadically, but all of them flew in the wrong direction.
In less than ten seconds, Baron Delaweld and his men reached the enemy.
"I am proud to have fought you! Together with those who went before us, let us share sake in the presence of God!"
""Ooh!" ""
The subordinates following him responded powerfully to the Baron's words.
The Betumia Republic Army was now right before them. While confirming that the enemy soldiers' faces were shrouded in fear and confusion, Baron Delaweld plunged his horse right into the center of them.
"Gyaaaa!"
"H-help!"
"Enemy! Even monsters!"
First knocked aside and trampled by the cavalry charge, and then torn apart by the following horde of monsters, the soldiers at the rear of the Betumia Republic Army's formation died screaming.
In the midst of it, Baron Delaweld, already wearing blood-stained armor, was bathed in further enemy blood, his face and head covered in splatter, as he swung his sword with an expression like a demon. The horse he had been riding was already dead, and the Baron walked about on his own feet searching for prey.
"I am Baron Delaweld! Baron Varga Delaweld! Remember my name! Remember me! I am Baron Delaweld!!"
No matter how hard he tried, he would not be able to annihilate the enemy. Precisely because he knew this, Baron Delaweld raged while shouting, attempting to carve the manner of his death into the enemy's memories even slightly.
He grabbed the neck of an enemy trying to flee, dragged him down, and thrust his sword through a gap in the helmet.
He parried the thrust of an enemy spear that had bravely faced him with his sword, stepped inside the range, and delivered a headbutt. As the enemy staggered from the brain-shaking blow, he sliced open the enemy's stomach, and the man fell, scattering his entrails.
"Guh!"
At that moment, he felt a sudden heat in his side. Looking down, a spear was thrust there. Turning his head, he locked eyes with the enemy soldier who had just stabbed him—and Baron Delaweld grinned.
"Hie!"
"Not bad! Now, come here!"
While the enemy soldier showed fear at the sight of Baron Delaweld smiling with a blood-covered face, the Baron grabbed the enemy's shoulder and pulled him close, unconcerned that the spear sank deeper. Simultaneously, he thrust his sword deep into the enemy's stomach. The enemy died with a terrified face.
"I am still alive! I am Baron Varga Delaweld! Who will kill me!?"
As Baron Delaweld looked back with the spear still in his stomach—even more spears pierced his body. By multiple enemy soldiers, spears were thrust into Baron Delaweld's torso from the right, the left, and the front.
"Is this the end! Well, it's enough! You and you, shall we die together!"
Laughing, Baron Delaweld grabbed the necks of two random enemy soldiers among those who had surrounded and pierced him.
"W-what is this guy!"
"Gufu, let go! Let go of me!"
The captured Betumia soldiers tried to resist, but because the Baron put strength into his hands to the point where his nails dug into their flesh, they could not escape.
"Hey! The monsters are coming!"
"Retreat! Retreat!"
Around them, Baron Delaweld's surviving subordinates and the monsters were still raging, and the soldiers surrounding the Baron, seeing the situation as dangerous, tried to pull back.
"Hey, wait! Please wait!"
"This guy won't let go! Do something!"
However, the two soldiers whose necks were gripped by Baron Delaweld naturally could not escape. Left behind with the Baron as their comrades retreated, a pack of Hobgoblins approached them.
"Let go! I don't want to die!"
"You win! It's fine now, just let me go!"
"I shall not! You are coming with me! Receive the retribution for your invasion!"
The Baron did not let go of the two soldiers who were trying to escape his grip, nearly in tears.
The approaching pack of Hobgoblins surrounded Baron Delaweld, who was laughing with a terrifying expression, and the two soldiers caught in his hands, and toyed with them to death.
As a result, nearly 200 casualties were suffered by the Betumia Republic Army's baggage train in this battle.
The name of Baron Varga Delaweld, who raged like a demon while obsessively shouting his own name, came to be carved into the minds of the Betumia Republic Army soldiers who survived this battle, along with a lasting trauma.
[Notice]
It has been decided that this work will be published in book form! For details, please check the activity report!