Chapter 144

- Krik, kooh-oo, ka.

With the sound of metal clanging, a low growling voice could be heard beyond the slope of the mountain.

They've come. Ivan stretched his stiff body in the cold morning air.

- Krik, ka-hook, ka!

It's the anthem of Taurs. It was a familiar tune. Roughly translated, it goes like this: We are strong, we kill, we march. The rest is repetition of the same.

Taurs' territory in the mountains was one of fury. These bastards were tribes who replaced intellect with violence.

Their sole purpose was feverishly driven by destruction and slaughter. Compared to orcs who at least had some semblance of intellect, Taurs were even simpler tribes.

- Krik, kri-hook, ka!!

A group of Taurs, raising clouds of dust, appeared. Roughly about a thousand. The entire army.

This is where the difference with humans becomes apparent. The fact that infiltration units gather in platoon-sized formations in situations where there are no rear supply routes.

They are ones who solely rely on plunder to secure the materials necessary for sustained combat. It means they weren't suitable tribes for infiltration in the first place. If you operate a guerrilla unit, they're bound to go wild and get cut somewhere.

Intellect and tactical thinking worse than wolves. Behaviors no different from beasts fighting in groups.

However, their true worth lies in the fact that each individual possesses mobility and power equivalent to a knight. That's why Tylesse suffered such defeats against Taurs during the war.

Tumor, their leader, was one of the Seven Dragon Generals that inflicted the most damage on the United Kingdoms solely through force.

"Who's going to be the first?"

About 3 meters tall with a huge muscular mass that doesn't match their proportions at all. A head with sharp horns resembling both a bull and a bison.

Just gathering together and pounding the ground is enough to make the earth tremble. The fact that they were able to lead such creatures and carry out "rear infiltration" and "cooperative operations with humans" speaks volumes about the leader of that group not being an ordinary guy.

- Click.

He raised the gun above his left arm. Firmly bracing it and closing one eye. Exhaling low, halfway emptying the lungs of breath.

He lightly applied pressure on the finger on the trigger. Click, clack. The sound of the spring winding in was cheerful.

Like that. He aimed at the guy in the front.

- Krik! Hoo!

No response. This one doesn't have line of fire detection. Again, next.

- Krik, ka-hook, ka!

Again, next.

And then, next.

The muzzle moved slightly, targeting one by one, meticulously, from the front row, passing through each one.

As if about to shoot at any moment, but steadily restraining.

When the muzzle aimed at the forehead of one guy.

- Krkhp!! Ka!?

His eyes, red with blood, precisely targeted Ivan's hiding spot.

From within Ivan's sight, he could hear the guy growling. He raised a huge, flesh-stuck axe towards Ivan's direction.

A grim momentum gathered as if about to explode. The crowd stopped together and immediately turned towards Ivan, rushing straight at him.

-Dudududududududu—!!

Hooves pounded the ground. The noise was akin to tens of thousands of cavalry charging simultaneously.

In Tylesse, there is a saying: "Cavalry is the messenger of infantry." In Tylesse, where plains spread everywhere, infantry cannot stop well-trained cavalry head-on.

The charging Taurs were not much different from cavalry. In other words, it was a situation where about a thousand cavalry, literally one body with horses, were rushing and smashing trees.

Unless the number of troops is matched, they will definitely lose in a rotation if not holding the city walls. That's the common sense left by the lessons from the war with the demons.

However, Ivan is not a war expert. His expertise lies not in war, but in combat, and even more narrowly, he was an expert in "special operations" related to combat.

Therefore, the general common sense of war differs greatly from Ivan's.

With a pistol in hand, Ivan rushed and struck the trees.

As a shepherd drives away cattle with dogs and a whip, the extermination unit uses pistols to drive away.

*

- Taang—!!

A Taur leading the charge poured blood from its eyes and threw its head back sharply. Along with the gunshot, a small lead bullet flew accurately into the guy's eye, smashing it.

However, the skull of a Taur was akin to that of a cow, superior to humans in absorbing impact. The lead bullet that ruptured the eye stopped short of reaching the brain.

The blocked vision in one eye and intense pain seemed to fuel the guy's anger even more. He spasmed and began to charge again.

- Taang—!!

Again, gunfire echoed from beyond the bushes. Another guy's eye burst out. One gunshot each time. Targeting the small eyes of the Taurs at the forefront.

Leading the furious Taurs, Bargadal shook his head in disbelief.

It's strange somehow. They're running towards where the pest is hiding, but the distance isn't closing. There's no way humans are faster than them.

They're not even riding horses. Horses can never run as fast as Taurs in such dense forests.

Struggling to cool his head increasingly consumed by anger, Bargadal guided the herd back towards the direction where the gunfire was heard again.

- Taang—!!

Once again, a gunshot, one guy at the forefront jerked his head up, then exhaled sharply, breathing heavily as he ran. Glancing, he got hit in the eye again.

If he had the skill to shoot out only one eye, wouldn't it be better to aim for both eyes to block the vision?

With such doubts in mind, he continued to run.

It was a chase that followed after sending tracking teams to catch fleeing prey, all of which were found dead, and the fact that the number of humans was well over sixty made him salivate as he pursued.

Finally, hardened by endless hunger and violence, Bargadal let out a long cry and plunged into the forest, running.

*

"At this point, their movement path has completely diverged from the villagers of Vertmon."

Even if a few of those guys manage to escape, they won't be able to chase after the villagers of Vertmon anymore. They're unfamiliar with the geography around here.

Tracking prey by following traces is a very tricky skill. Those guys hunt only through smell and intuition, and even that is impossible in such deep forests. Human traces have reached even this remote area.

Vertmon and Moramdong, the forest that stretches along the border between the two territories, has a gorge at the end of the Bernini Mountain Range.

It's somewhat lacking to call it a gorge. More like a small basin, just enough for a few herders to roam around.

However, beyond this area and out of the forest, a vast plain leading to the Maromdong Barony unfolds.

"To make it a passageway between territories is a challenging location due to the terrain."

Located far from major trade routes, with no major cities nearby and a dense forest where even the indigenous people don't easily venture to settle.

Beyond that lies the plain, but at the same time, it's at a suitable distance from the villages of Moramdong.

Exactly the battlefield he desired.

It's easy to track down those who have scattered through the forest and even if they pass by him while fleeing, they will have to wander the plain for a while.

The small number of enemies who have left the herd will only fall prey to the returning army. That's how it's going to be.

If he can break most of them here, Tylesse won't have to worry about the damage caused by the invasion of demons at least.

- Shlink.

Ivan stopped and drew his sword. The well-forged blade gleamed white under the rising sun.

Several daggers in the sleeve, a pistol in the left hand. As far as he could tell, everything was well managed to be ready for combat immediately.

Unlike them, he could supply energy even during pursuit and escape, so considering the energy Ivan had consumed so far, he could continue fighting for about two days without any problem.

Nutrition bars are advanced complete foods that can supply a huge amount of energy regardless of satiety. They even guarantee the advantage of being able to consume them during intense movement, and ensure secrecy by not emitting any food smells.

- Dudududududu—!!

With the loud noise, the ground shook. From the far distance, trees being uprooted could be seen. It's as if a road is being cleared through the middle of the forest.

Should he be thankful for unnecessarily exerting his strength, or should he be thankful for now having one more new trade route to pave?

Ivan chuckled and waited. The distance narrowed in an instant.

The trees right in front of Ivan swayed, shattered, and finally, the guys revealed themselves.

"When such a moment comes, there's something I've always wanted to say."

He looked at the charging Taurs, foam in their mouths. Their blood-red eyes were gleaming only with anticipation of slaughter.

Even the boldest man would be gripped by fear at the sight. Giants, twice the size of a man, numbering a thousand.

Filling this rugged gorge endlessly is violence in itself.

Ivan raised his sword, drawing a line in the ground.

Just as the young Jill Ber headed towards the Taurus horde from the citadel, Ivan mimicked him.

"I am Ivan Petrovich of Krasilov. A lieutenant of the Clenup Unit and a guard officer of the Royal Guard of Krasilov."

Gazing at the Taurs charging towards him, he calmly focused his mana. With a tingling sensation, his nerves began to race.

Time fragmented. Space distorted. In this moment, even the tiny particles of dust falling with vibrations were visible to the naked eye.

In the slow approach of this familiar pressure, as if trapped in deep waters, Ivan calmly raised his sword and aimed directly ahead.

"From now on, a thousand will surely die."

It is said that Jill Ber vowed to kill a hundred back then. And he succeeded in doing so.

Since that was a long time ago, Ivan believed he was ten times stronger than the guy back then. So he would be satisfied only after killing ten times more quantitatively.

Feeling a strange joy creeping up, Ivan aimed his sword. Click, along with the sensation of the spring bouncing in the pistol gripped in his left hand.

No need for aiming. He could hit anywhere he shot.

No need to control his breath. His time was already moving faster than his breath.

So he simply raised his hand and fired.

- Taang—!!

It was the morning after Bertom collapsed.

*

Maromdong Baron Serte was taken aback by the sudden guest. This man, who led dozens of villagers, was the lord of a neighboring territory that had competed with him until a few days ago.

While he had encountered minor disputes over tolls and petty conflicts with nearby farms, he had never expected to meet him in such a state.

Serte looked at Noar with a bewildered face.

"What in the world is this? Did you come here as if fleeing from bandits?"

"It's something more serious than that."

A lord whose territory had collapsed usually tended to request assistance in a more humble manner. Expecting him to approach with smiles and laughter, Serte shook his head at Noar's stiffened form.

But when he saw the object Noar held out, Baron Serte shuddered.

"Demon...? Taurs...?"

"We need to gather the nobles. Tylesse is under attack."

"How many? How many are there?"

"The number that trampled my territory exceeds a thousand. Duke Etarique is said to be building a defensive line in the Bernini Mountains."

"How... How could this happen?"

Serte trembled as he looked at the grim artifacts placed on the table.

It was the skull of a dead Taur, not decomposed for long.

There was no way to fake something like this. Taurs were rare demon beyond the Eastern Front in this era.

"It's Duke Etarique's order. Gather as much military strength as possible and establish a front near Moramdong within five days to clear out the remnants of the scattered enemy."

"Who would follow? It's not autumn!"

The military strength of ordinary small territories consists mostly of conscripted soldiers, and most of them are peasants or tenant farmers.

Mobilization orders during the farming season could lead to the pillars of the territory being uprooted. It's not easy to follow a large-scale deployment order when even sending a few knights is difficult. However, Baron Noar nodded heavily.

"I swear on my life. Those who resist will be dealt with both during and after the war, as ordered by Duke Etarique."

"Wouldn't it be better to ask Vermontpor Count for help?"

"I'd rather give a knife to a pig."

Noar chuckled dismissively, ignoring the nobles' etiquette.

"If you ask that guy for military aid, will he move? It's a relief if we can act after our territories are completely ruined, rather than waiting leisurely until we're all dead and then trying to swallow us."

"But if it's the Count's order..."

"Even if the Count himself comes to order, they won't budge for at least half a year. Baron Serte, look at my situation. Even if it's your territory, can you withstand a thousand Taurs?"

"If Vermontpor just collapsed recently, it wouldn't be strange if they came to my territory by now. Instead of mobilizing troops now, it's better to... flee."

"But there was someone who could stop them. The knight of Duke Etarique, who foresaw this. He said we could hold out for five days, but now..."

Noar spoke, looking out the window with sunken eyes.

"We have no choice but to believe."

Six knights were all that could escape. That was all. Even then, it was barely enough time for almost all the villagers to be eaten.

But that man...

Facing the army alone without showing a hint of fear, what kind of life had he lived?

Noar knew the type of man he was. The kind who could face an entire army alone with just his own strength.

Even if they couldn't do that much, at least they were always the ones who bravely moved forward in the face of death.

If they die, they will be remembered as heroes of the homeland,

If they return alive, well...

They will be hailed as heroes and forever remembered in history.

Is this the difference between a Duke and a mere rural Baron? Sending only such men to fend off infiltration units in the rear.

Regardless of the horrors of the front line, it was an appointment to minimize the damage to the people of the inland territory.

Etarique, the homeland's guardian, was a shield of the hero party. It was only fitting for him. Unlike the fat greedy nobles, he was one of the few great knights left in this country.

"For five days, we might barely make it to Leudmiyu and Demongmor, but even then, we don't know how many will gather."

"I'll go to Demongmor. Would you persuade Baron Leudmiyu for me?"

"With pleasure."

The two barons, who had been rivals for a long time, firmly clasped each other's hands and paused for a moment. Soon they called their attendants and rode off in their respective directions.