TUK 15

Chapter 15

“I told him to look for him, but I wonder if he can actually be found….”

Monclay woke to the morning ill-rested after the rain that had fallen through the night.

The dawn had been nothing but a darkness that swallowed you in terror.

“Really, it was a night where you wouldn’t even notice if your head were cut off.”

The sudden rain had put out every campfire flickering around them.

And the sky? Thick clouds hid the moon and stars; it was pitch-black everywhere.

Rain falling, darkness ahead. As Rian Cade had said, the kind of terror where you wouldn’t even realize if you’d been assassinated settled over him, forcing him to abandon sleep and stay alert.

And driven by the fear that such an ambush might become reality, he did everything he could.

“All soldiers, assemble!!”

What’s a little rain? When you might die at any moment—

He gathered the forces spread across the area and set layered guards so an assassin couldn’t sneak in.

Even so, the pitch-black darkness didn’t ease the terror.

The image of someone disguised as an allied soldier sliding up from anywhere and slitting a throat wouldn’t leave his mind.

What could he do? He’d do everything possible.

“Company and platoon leaders, listen up! Draft soldiers with good night vision and post them to the rear guard! That’s an order!!”

He conscripted soldiers by force.

If, in fact, the damned Imperial troops were preparing an ambush, finding them before being ambushed would be the first step to safety.

And the one he planned to entrust with leading the drafted soldiers—

“Rian Cade!!!”

He intended to give Rian the rear-guard and ambush-search mission since Rian had anticipated the ambush.

‘But he’s not here? He’s not here?!’

He was bewildered that he couldn’t find him. The only thought that sprang to mind was one word:

‘Desertion…’

Looking at it another way, it wasn’t implausible.

He had survived alone on a battlefield where everyone else was wiped out, risked his life disguised as an Imperial to kill a mage.

That alone should have earned him hero treatment; he didn’t need to be escorted here with Sion’s disciples.

‘He could have easily returned to Northheim and no one could complain…’

They should have given him titles and promotions as rewards.

But the treatment he received here was outright neglect.

Soldiers who had foolishly pursued after the sudden reversal wouldn’t necessarily understand.

‘I should have at least spoken up for him a bit, praised him.’

While thinking such things, a soldier’s testimony that he’d seen Rian soothed Monclay’s anxiety somewhat. But the problem was that Rian’s whereabouts were unclear.

“He was riding around saying he’d stand watch alone, sir.”

For a moment he thought he’d misheard.

He thought of the word “madman.” A crazed fool who wanted to die.

If the Imperial army really was lying in ambush, Rian, as the first target, would surely be killed.

‘If he dies like that…’

A witness to the mistake at the Plain Battle would disappear.

One of the strategic points had been that Rian, disguised and infiltrated, killed the mage and turned the tide based on the information that the mage would freeze the Trevor River—evidence of that great contribution.

Without Rian, it would look like a reversal owed only to the Imperial troops’ mistakes; the annihilation of the forces at the Plain Battle would be blamed on a rash response.

‘Even if the adjutant and the escort testified that someone killed the mage, would Lord Graham Filosso believe them?’

Graham Filosso, current lord of Northheim, wasn’t the sort to accept things easily.

He’d probably scoff and call it a lucky stroke and people piling on.

Well, that could be dealt with later. If it came to that, they could force recognition of the merit by hook or by crook.

For now, they had to determine whether Rian Cade was missing or had deserted.

“Any news yet?!”

Monclay suddenly barked at one of his nearby escort soldiers.

“Yes… as you can see.”

The escort pointed to the routes the recon units had taken.

As soon as the rain stopped and daylight came, they had formed search parties and sent the soldiers out to the rear.

The soldiers drafted at dawn had been entrusted to his adjutant Bonmurd, so Monclay, on edge, needled his escort more than necessary.

The escort acted as if this kind of thing was routine and gave a lukewarm response.

Monclay didn’t press the escort’s attitude—he understood.

The rain had stopped and morning had come; the time for an ambush had likely passed.

No need to be overly anxious; just wait for the search parties to return.

Then one of the soldiers guarding the rear shouted.

“The searchers are returning!!”

At that cry Monclay darted toward the rear.

‘Here they come!’

“Hah…! Seriously! What a fuss….”

Monclay clicked his tongue as he looked at the Imperial bodies the soldiers led in, the ones Bonmurd’s men had captured.

By his expression, he seemed to chide himself for having lost sleep over what turned out to be only ten assassins.

He then looked over at Rian, who rendered a military salute.

‘Covered in mud and bloodstains, you had a rough time. But did you face the Empire’s elite alone?!’

Monclay’s eyes were full of suspicion, but he couldn’t immediately press the matter. As a superior, he had to show the proper demeanor.

“You did well. Thanks to you we avoided disaster. Are you hurt?”

The question came more from suspicion than worry—both then at Trevor Bridge and now.

‘Didn’t he take a fatal wound? How can he stand so confidently?’

Could a mere squad leader take on a shadow unit the Imperial marquess had formed?

‘If he had that level of skill, I would have known…’

Rian sensed the intent behind Monclay’s questioning.

Some members of the search party, including Bonmurd, had already asked him similar questions on the way back.

‘How could you fight them on your own?’

‘Are you injured? You look a mess; you must be badly hurt.’

These were similar to Monclay’s questions.

Rian decided to answer Monclay as he had answered the others.

“Something went wrong among them. I intervened while they were fighting each other. They were half-dead, so I didn’t take heavy injuries.”

It was, in fact, the truth.

Gerard had been suspected, they had turned their blades against each other—Rian was only reporting the facts.

As with the others, Monclay’s reaction wasn’t much different.

“No way. Do you expect me to believe that?!”
“It’s the truth… though.”

Whether they believed him or not was their choice. They had indeed fought amongst themselves; the only witness to the situation was the brown horse standing there.

Neigh—! Horses don’t talk.

So Rian only spoke a small portion of the facts, and having told that, his gaze remained steady without wavering.

He was upright—perhaps shamelessly so.

His posture seemed to rile Monclay a bit.

“I was skeptical too, but I don’t think Captain Cade would downplay his own achievements on purpose.”

Bonmurd, unable to stand it, stepped in to offer an explanation.

“Sure, what can ten men even do? They might have started fighting because their intentions didn’t match—some kind of suicidal act. Ha!”

“If I were them, I might have mutinied too. They’re few in number—what could they possibly do? In the rain and dark, they’d be flustered and start fighting.”
“Ha ha!”

The other company and platoon leaders nodded at Bonmurd’s remarks. Their real intent was to belittle Rian’s feat.

Rian, however, was oddly grateful for those who downgraded him.

“Ahem… well, that’s true.”

Monclay acquiesced to the surrounding reactions and nodded, turning the matter over in his head.

It was purely for appearance of merit, and having sorted his thoughts, Monclay said with a satisfied look to Rian:

“Indeed. I thought you’d identify the ambushers on your own and be able to stop them like this.”

At the sudden change in attitude, everyone looked at him with surprise.

Rian met Monclay with a neutral stare but inwardly held a question mark.

‘Huh? Suddenly?’

Perhaps Monclay noticed the looks, or perhaps he intended to show he wouldn’t care what others thought.

“All troops! Continue march to the Dandelion Plain!!”

He issued the order to move.

Everyone was already preparing anyway.

They dispersed, seemingly uninterested in Rian’s solo defense against the Empire’s elite anymore.

Their mutterings as they turned away were filled with envy and jealousy toward Rian, plus boastful claims that they could have done the same.

“…….”

Rian exhaled a sigh of relief at their reactions—thanks to that, no one suspected his immortality; once again he had skirted a crisis.

He simply wanted to wash the mud and clotted blood off in some stream.

Above all, he was at a loss.

He had no unit to lead. No subordinates to receive him.

Monclay must have known that, and with a benevolent fatherly expression, he said to Rian:

“You’ll travel with me.”

Rian blinked for a moment.

Of course, with nowhere else to go and no unit to join, following the colonel was, in a way, natural.

‘His eyes look a bit ominous.’

The kindly smile hid a look that felt like it might offer something ill-omened; it made Rian uneasy.

But he couldn’t refuse the offer. For now he had to go along.

“Leah. I’m wondering if we were really needed for this.”

Tarin rubbed at the freckles around his nose, speaking in a tired voice; Leah replied.

“No, if they’d decided to come at us hard, it would have been difficult for us too. If it hadn’t been for the turnaround at Trevor Bridge, we might have been the ones chased.”

Her deep-blue bob whipped as her cold gaze turned behind the soldiers.

Where she looked, several bodies of the shadow unit were tied and being dragged along.

‘Anyway, mission accomplished.’

Sion’s disciples pursued the retreating Imperial troops under Monclay’s orders.

They used horses, so catching up to the exhausted Imperial forces was easy.

Encountering about a hundred shadow troopers guarding the rear was to be expected.

But they didn’t have to deal with all of them. Well, they ought to have, but—

The silver-haired giant Berkir tore through anyone who charged like paper. Leah and Pine moved so fast they were almost invisible. Tarin and Dominic cut down anyone who dared charge full-on.

Overwhelmed by their momentum, most of the enemy fled with their backs turned.

So they chose to take only the bodies of the shadow unit who looked like elite troops and head back.

Sion had taught them not to show the cruelty of hunting down and killing routed enemies to the point of finishing them off—unless they were monsters.

Clatter— clatter—.

Thus the horses carrying the disciples dragged the bodies, and they walked beside them toward Monclay’s battalion.

During this, Tarin complained half-heartedly, but Leah didn’t indulge him.

Others acted the same.

“Tarin. If you lack strength, your whole body will tire quickly. Go back and train with Dominic….”

The silver-haired giant Berkir offered a benevolent smile and encouragement to Tarin.

“When did I say I’d join?! I’ll train myself, so take Tarin and go play with him.”

Dominic frowned, denying Berkir’s comment.

Berkir simply chuckled, shouldering two corpses on his broad shoulders.

He meant to make sure Tarin didn’t get away easy.

“Haaah…. I just want to sleep properly.”

Pine, with greenish hair drooping, sat alone on her horse and ignored her comrades’ bickering.

Behind her horse was one corpse; the rest had been handed to Berkir, who urged training upon Tarin.

‘By the way, what are these corpses…?’

Leah, leaving her companions’ petty grumbling behind, looked around at the bodies.

Most of them were their own troops.

They seemed to form a large circle with no gap to escape; it was clearly a slaughter.

But how could that be?

‘Rian Cade….’

Monclay had said Rian was the only survivor from the vanguard sent to discover the Empire’s hidden card.

He had been disguised and had killed the mage, turning the tide.

“How could that be?”

Leah voiced aloud the question that wouldn’t come to terms in her head.

“Maybe he hid among the corpses or something? Otherwise….”

Dominic, who was looking around at the bodies, echoed Leah’s words—he seemed aware of Rian.

Then Pine pointed toward the Green Wave Forest across from them and said,

“Shall we wait here to gather the bodies? Looks like we could just wait.”

At her fingertip, the battalion of Monclay emerged from the forest.