< Episode 132. How the Confederacy Was Formed (2) >
Watching Pumpky bark happily, I wrapped around his neck. The big wolf mischievously bit my ear.
My body was pushed back by the weight. I could feel the hot breath of Pumpky.
There was no malice at all, it was Pumpky’s pranks.
“It’s a monster!”
The soldiers of the Viscount Dutch, who were watching around, poked their spears.
Jabrien shouted and looked at me and said,
“Don’t you know people will be surprised?”
I could still see soldiers holding spears and swords with frightened eyes. Pumpky stuck his head out of his arms and I opened my mouth.
“Don’t worry. It won’t bite.”
It’s surprising to see a large wolf suddenly come out.
“What is this?”
Viscount Dutch asked as he gathered up his messy hair. The fire of the brazier was blazing and his eyes were red and bloodshot due to lack of sleep.
What should I say in such a situation?
“This is Pumpky who is in charge of reconnaissance instead of me. Come to think of it, there are four of us here instead of three.”
Viscount Dutch’s whole body shook. It was obvious that he was angry, even to a dull-witted person.
If his son hadn’t rushed over to stop him, he might have said something in exasperation.
No matter how poor the situation is, everyone has their last pride.
But I didn’t mean to make fun of you. It was sincere anyway. Of course, I knew he wouldn’t believe it.
“Are you kidding me?”
Jabrien scolded me. The soldiers were frightened and withdrew, and it was after Jabrien saw that and left.
“Did you see that?”
I asked Pumpky.
He barks a little and nods his head. Ooh, you clever guy.
I fed him a tablet and rubbed his fur. Watching that, the soldiers widened the distance.
By the time the sun went down and night came, the southern army of 1,200 had not rushed forward.
Instead, my knight just returned.
I looked at his face and asked.
“Are you satisfied?”
Yanrid shook his head.
Of course he should be. He has gained a lot from me so far. He got the Wyze and had experience risking his life to make it through the battlefield.
There were high-quality experiences that even southerners, who fought at least a hundred times from birth to death, could not commonly experience, and even efforts put on his natural talent.
He shouldn’t be satisfied with just this.
A small smile appeared on his lips. It was the smile of someone who enjoyed the situation.
Even if you couldn’t be satisfied, it would have been fun to see people with similar temperament to you.
My anxiety had left me too. Today was a crucial day. If they had ignored Yenrid and attacked, we would have had to use some other method of combat.
The Southern Army did not do so.
I guess they couldn’t do that because their goal was to settle. In other words, I took advantage of the characteristics of Southerners to place a trap here called Yenrid, and 1,200 Southern troops stepped on it, knowing that it was a trap.
Now they couldn’t stay here until they crossed the wall called Yenrid.
“You’re not listening.”
As a mercenary facility, I often took on the position of captain of a small unit. Even though my combat skills were lacking, I was recognized for my natural ability to lead.
And the people I hated the most at that time were the southern mercenaries.
“It’s a bug.”
Saffron cubs. Bad memories come to mind.
If they were weaker than me, I didn’t even try to deal with them. If you wanted to stand before them as a warrior, you had to prove you were stronger. That was the way it was with Southerners.
I knew it very well.
The moment I saw them, I realized that they had only shit on their heads, but they followed the mercenaries who were amazingly good at fighting.
I would never fight alongside those ignorant sons of bitches in my life.
What is important to Southerners is a strong and tough warrior.
These are the people who may have fought on the battlefield yesterday, but are friends today.
That’s why I could not go near them. No, I couldn’t get even closer to them because they had tried to kill me in a duel and take my command.
Those memories still haunt me.
It was natural for countless swords to fly in front of a person standing alone. Yanrid really enjoyed it.
The Southerners did not turn sideways to leave him. They fought head on, making themselves known.
“My name is Varon! Give me your name!”
Yanrid didn’t open his mouth.
He was a Southerner too. He didn’t want to reveal his name so easily to someone who wasn’t qualified, especially to a warrior born and raised in the same land.
It was a fixation for no clear reason.
Walking between the five fallen men, Varon pulled out a rod and shield with a chunk of iron attached.
Baron struck the shield with the tip of his club igniting his will to fight.
He pondered for a moment whether to take it out. His opponent had a shield and a stick. Even if he could avoid the attack, it would take talent to attack an opponent with a shield.
While thinking about it, Yenrid moved his hand to near his axe, while Varon rushed in and blocked his view with his shield.
The opponent disappeared from Jenrid’s eyes, and only the irregular grain of wood carved on the shield filled his vision.
Instead of avoiding his opponent, Yanrid kicked the shield with his feet. It was the tactic that Digo used when he faced Lind.
Straight and Simple!
Maybe it’s a shield made of iron, or something like a wood shield.
The opponent faltered, groaning in a sudden shock. In the meantime, Yenrid lowered his posture enough to bump his nose into the ground.
Wingless Hawk. Each tribe’s name was a symbol of their unique specialty.
The hawk is fast. The wingless hawk meant those who couldn’t fly, but had the fastest movements of all.
In addition, if you hold an ax in both hands, then it was not called a wingless hawk, but a hawk with a blade.
Tekil didn’t stick to training the same way for everyone, including Chris.
Chris was a blank slate, so he gave everything he had, but he did things differently for Digo, Lind, and Yenrid.
In particular, among them, Yanrid was a warrior who had already established his fighting style. Tekil didn’t teach him, he just gave him directions.
What he needs now, and how he will apply the skills he has.
In conclusion, Yanrid didn’t learn much. He had developed stamina and strength, and all he had to do was learn to use his natural wits.
And by that alone, Yenrid was ahead of Digo and Lind.
Varon barely kept his balance and pushed his shield forward. He didn’t feel the impact, because the enemy wasn’t where he should have been.
Then, when he finally looked ahead, he couldn’t see Yenrid. While the panicked Varon was looking away, Yenrid rose up from just below him and smacked Varon on the chin with the bottom of his palm.
Another fell down without having to pull out the axe.
“Good! Good! Good. My ancestors want me to grind your bones and drink from them!”
Without a moment to catch a breath, another one came out. Yanrid thought it was better than yesterday.
“I am the Borte of the Poisonless Toad!”
He was wearing a thick leather robe, unlike the others who had took of their clothes. Yenrid didn’t pay attention to the opponent’s appearance. He didn’t care who they were, because he was going to beat them.
“Tell me your name!”
The proud Southern warrior exclaimed. Borte was not alone. Four warriors stood by his side.
Five became one. It would be several times more dangerous than the first five he encountered.
In front of him, Yanrid shook his head. Even answering was a courtesy to the other person. But he still didn’t want to give his name.
So on the second day, Yenrid knocked out Varon and broke Borte’s arm.
And to a warrior named Caen, he pulled his ax and left an indelible scar on his chest.
Many more warriors stood before him after that. And fell.
Yenrid accepted all their challenges without saying a word. So it went for three days and two nights.
If he hadn’t gone through the Wyze imprinting process, Yenrid would have been exhausted.
It would have been hard if it wasn’t for the herbalist Chris Fraunmunt who stood by him.
When he returned, Chris gave him a herbal medicine, and he used Wyze to increase his healing power.
So even on the third day, he held his position proudly.
Of course, the condition could not be perfect because he faced more than 300 warriors alone during the continued battle.
On the surface, he was perfect. It was around that time that the southerners’ challenge stopped.
What is the biggest criterion for distinguishing between the central continental and southern people? In my opinion, it was an object of worship.
The central continent worshiped gods, while the southern ones worshiped people.
When the central continental people believed in Gran and prayed, the Southerners prayed and chanted the names of their ancestors.
That is how Southerners have lived. They watched for the birth of heroes, passed on their stories orally, and passed on their traditions.
The name of the tribe was the story and record of the hero who led them. All the laws of the land are like stone towers built by the heroes of previous era.
Southerners always welcomed the hero in front of them. A hero who is more southern than anyone else.
And Yenrid, who I saw, turned his back on the south, but was born with the blood of the southerners.
Moreover, he was the one who had shown the steps of a hero in my previous life. Even if I couldn’t know all his past, I knew one.
He was a man worthy of being a hero.
Southern culture of worshiping heroes.
A warrior who did not tell anyone his name or tribe after leaving the land.
A man who has defeated hundreds of warriors alone and stood alone without killing a single one.
The man opened his mouth.
“I am Yenrid of the Wingless Hawk.”
He identified and named his tribe.
“If there is no one else to come forward, go when I’m saying nicely.”
Yanrid said the same thing as the first time. He was faithful to his task.
Thousands of southern warriors chanted his name instead of returning.
“He who walks the earth proudly.”
If the Central Continental people enjoyed and welcomed the epic of the hero, the Southerners considered the epic of the hero as their life.
That’s why they had no choice but to leave.
If you replace ‘One who walks the earth proudly’ with the words of the central continent, it was a ‘Hero’.
Of course, that meaning could not be directly replaced, but it would be similar enough to accept.
Seeing that, I felt excitement and tension tightening my heart at the same time.
Send them back from here and my deal with Viscount Dutch will be over.
Since I have protected the land, the Viscount will obey me and give me three platinum coins.
But Yanrid will lose his family forever.
I timed it in my mind.
The trigger that Pumpky saw and delivered to me must be running away now.
It wasn’t over if we just stopped the Southern rebels.
What is the Southern Rebellion?
It was a rebellion by some of the healed and broken southern tribes to survive. It was not an attempt to kill on the central continent.
It was the south, killing them.
The reason they started a rebellion was to survive in the South.
From the beginning their enemy was not the center, but the south.
“The others are coming!”
The call I had been waiting for was heard. I had instructed them to place scouts in the vicinity just in case.
That was the result.
It was my last move that Pumky saw in advance.
The kids are terribly slow.
If they hadn’t come now, I should have brought Yenrd to meet them and wait for them.
The Viscount shouted in panic. He looked at me and gave me a desperate look.
Yes, I know, I know. You want me to step forward.
I would have stepped up even if he didn’t say anything because dealing with my own work is not the problem.
But you still have to take care of what I need to pack. I sent a look to the Viscount.
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”
The Viscount answered with his eyes.
“Please, save me.”
Okay, got it.
“Be nice to me.”
I spit and looked at the people russhed far away. It wasn’t fast.
I had plenty of time to prepare. As I approached the viscount, I saw the desperation in their eyes as they looked at me.
There were 1200 warriors, but there were more coming.
“Take out your army, Viscount.”
“You want me to give up my land?”
Damn, You still lack faith. Even though I blocked the 1,200 Southern Army here.
“I also have an army.”
Thinking where he had hidden his troops, Viscount Dutch turned his head.
What are you looking for in front of you? In front of me were 1200 southern warriors that Yenrid had subdued.
“Jabrien, step back and hide.”
That’s all for her role. From now on, it is time for blood and flesh to splatter.
I stood next to Yenrid, who was standing still. The men, who gave in to Yenrid, stood up vigorously as they saw other southern soldiers rushing from behind.
Showing courtesy as a warrior is until there is no threat to life.
Those who are coming in now are those who uproot and burn their lives, and they will fight until their lives are consumed.
Just like Yenrid did in the previous life.
Even though I stood next to him, Yenrid didn’t see me. His gaze was on the rushing Southern Army.
I knew a few things.
The fact that those who are coming in now are the enemies of Yenrid, and that the 1200 warriors in front of him are actually some of those who have been with him in the previous life.
Of course I didn’t have time to explain and I couldn’t say I knew it all, so I kept it short and bold.
“Do whatever you want.”
That’s what the southern warriors used to say.
They make friendships through fists and swords, and show blood and bones to deepen their friendship.
Put simply, they are cubs who become friends while fighting. In my previous life, I had fought with them working as a mercenary, and it had caused me a lot of trouble.
I untied the reins of a wild horse named Yenrid. He ran without delay.
The wingless hawk tribe was faster than anyone else in the south, so it was quick for him to take the lead in the 1,200 Southern Army.
Seeing Yenrid taking the two axes, the Southern men scattered to the side.
In the center, at the forefront, Yenrid opened his mouth.
“I am Yenrid of the wingless hawk. I’m the leader.”
How could I have said the words “Let’s fight together” so brazenly?
The enemy you had just fought stood in front of the approaching enemies.
The people of the central continent would do anything to cut him down at once.
But the men from the south didn’t care. They would just fight together.
Someone called my knight’s name.
Someone else called after that name.
The cry of the southern warriors echoed in the sky. It is their tradition to praise the names of great warriors.
Soon, with a shout, Yenrid ran.
The crowd that Pumpky had seen in advance and informed me rushed in, raising a cloud of dust.
The opponent who rushed was Yenrid’s enemy, a unit of the roaring elephant clan.
Mistakes are expected so if something doesn’t make sense then just try to understand the situation and make something up by yourself.
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