Chapter 49: The Road to the Empire
After leaving the city of Valgma, the mercenary squad got on the main road headed for the imperial territory. They opted not to drop by any cities or other territories to make up for the time that was lost while Urich was bedridden. They had already camped for three nights since their departure.
Pahell had been receiving swordsmanship training from Phillion throughout their travels.
“Your Highness, with movements like that, you won’t even be able to defeat me, and I only have a left hand,” Phillion said as he flung his sword. Pahell was gasping for breath in front of him.
“Dammit, why is this sword so heavy!”
Pahell was irritated. He was royalty, after all, so he had received basic training. However, he had only learned with a practice wooden sword, and he even skipped most of the sessions.
‘The prince really asked for training. No one made him do it.’
Phillion grinned with pride and swung his sword with his left hand.
Clank!
Pahell dropped his sword. His hands were covered with blisters.
“I think that’s good for today. You will get used to it in no time.”
Pahell nodded and Phillion sheathed his sword.
“In your opinion, Sir Phillion, how strong is Urich?” Pahell, who was resting with some water in his hand, asked Phillion.
“He is some warrior. He’s not only strong, but his fighting skills are that of someone way beyond his age,” Phillion had already evaluated Urich with his own standards, as he had been seeing him fight over their time together.
“Do you think there’s anyone from our kingdom who could take him on?”
Phillion was silent for a moment. He couldn’t answer the prince’s question quite easily.
‘I can’t think of a single name, but it would also be disgraceful to say there isn’t one person in our kingdom.’
Pahell continued while Phillion hesitated.
“Probably not, at least not in our kingdom. What about the Empire, then? Perhaps the Sword Demon Ferzen?”
“Sword Demon Ferzen is too old. He’s over seventy years old now. There is no warrior who can overcome old age, no matter how extraordinary they may be. Ferzen is a living piece of history who fought in the Great Unification, and Great Conquests, as well as the Subjugation of the Barbarians. But I’m sure there are men in the Imperial Knights or the Sun Warriors who could match Urich’s skills.”
Phillion wasn’t confident in his answer. After all, he was only a knight of a small kingdom who had spent his life escorting and guarding the royal family. His battle experience wasn’t quite up to the standards of the average knight of his age.
“Sir Phillion, if I asked Urich to be my liege at the end of this journey, do you think he would accept it?” The lingering heat on Pahell’s face subsided. As he lifted his blue eyes, the grace and beauty of royalty radiated.
“That I can’t say, Your Highness. We have no clue as to what the goal of that barbarian is. One thing for sure is that he doesn’t have greed for money.”
“Right. Well, I wasn’t expecting a certain answer from you anyway. I just wanted you to know what my intentions are,” Pahell said as he looked at the bushes.
The mercenaries who had gone out hunting were returning to the camp. There was a forest nearby, and some of the mercenaries were quite confident in their hunting skills.
“Go on and boil some water. We’ll have them skinned in no time.”
The mercenaries had brought back five rabbits. They quickly slaughtered and cut them up into pieces.
“Ugh.”
Pahell, who had a weak stomach, looked away.
“If you truly want to learn to wield a sword, you should try to get used to blood, Your Highness.”
“Hey, Pahell, you wanna try? It’s not that hard,” Urich, who was cleaning up the meat, asked Pahell.
“U-umm.”
Pahell awkwardly cut up the rabbit with Urich’s instructions.
“Just use the knife to separate the skin from the flesh a little, then give it a good tug.”
Crunch!
Urich pulled hard and peeled the rabbit’s skin off the meat. The pink flesh of the rabbit was revealed.
“Hold on!” Pahell rushed to his feet and ran behind a tree. The sound of his vomiting was loud and clear.
“Hah, the food that guy eats doesn’t pass through his ass, it comes back out of his mouth. Might as well just starve then, Pahell.”
Urich said as he cut out the eyes of the rabbit and popped them in his mouth. The mercenaries laughed at his comment. The meat was put into the pots to be boiled. Even though there wasn’t nearly enough meat to feed all the mercenaries, the warm meat broth was revitalizing.
Buuup.
The mercenary on watch blew the horn trumpet, and the ones who were preparing their meal got up with their weapons.
“What’s wrong?”
“Which way?”
The mercenaries on watch pointed toward the horizon. A group of armed warriors were lined up along the horizon.
“God dammit, what a rude group of guys. Can’t they see that we’re trying to eat?”
“Grab your shields and look around. They might be coming from both sides. Stay alert.”
The mercenaries moved swiftly.
“That’s strange. If they found us before we noticed them, they could have just caught us by surprise. But they’re waiting for us to prepare for battle,” Bachman said as he narrowed his eyes.
“Hey, someone’s coming this way. Everyone hold! Don’t attack just yet,” Donovan said as he assessed the formation of the mercenaries.
The messenger who ran from the ridge quickly scanned Urich and the mercenary squad.
“We are the mercenary squad, Hrun’s Wolfpack!”
The mercenaries murmured at the messenger’s words.
“Hrun’s Wolfpack? Does anyone know who they are?”
“Hrun is a northern name, right?”
Urich looked at Sven, who was stroking his chin and thinking to himself.
“Hrun, Hrun, Hrun... there are quite a few warriors with that name, but I wonder if it’s that one?”
While Sven was busy trying to figure out who this Hrun was, Urich stepped forward.
“We are Urich’s Brotherhood. State your business.”
The messenger scanned Urich up and down and opened his mouth.
“We want to take the men you are protecting. Hand them over without a fuss, and we can all walk away without losing a drop of blood.”
Urich and the mercenaries laughed at the messenger’s words. Their laughter echoed throughout the area.
“You’re joking, right? Blood? I don’t know where the hell you bag of bones rolled in from, but if you’re mercenaries, take them with your swords like one, then.”
The messenger nodded as if he already knew what Urich was going to say.
“Yours and our numbers are quite similar. Neither of us would be able to avoid considerable damage, no matter who comes out on top. It is the value of our mercenary leader, Hrun, that no blood shall be spilled in vain. How about we settle this with a duel between our leaders?”
The messenger brought up a duel, and Urich was about to accept with no hesitation.
“Hold on, Urich.”
Donovan grabbed Urich’s shoulder and shouted at the messenger.
“Give us a minute to decide whether we want to have a duel or an all-out battle.”
The messenger glanced at his camp for a moment, then answered “If you don’t get back to us quickly, our leader will come charging without any warning. The ground is going to be soaked in blood today.”
The messenger stood in place, waiting for their decision.
Urich stepped back for a moment, and as Urich walked behind the mercenaries, they slammed their shields on the walls and glared at their enemies.
“They’re hired by Duke Harmatti. We wasted too much time in Valgma,” Phillion said under his breath. He wasn’t intending to put the blame on Urich, but it was true that this conflict could have been avoided if they hadn’t overstayed their visit to Valgma.
“Their leader must be very confident with his duel skills if he chose it over the advantage of a surprise attack,” Donovan said as he glanced at the enemy camp.
“I’ll just go and cut his throat. What’s the problem here? This is a good chance for us. You think I’m gonna lose?”
“Think about it, Urich, what if their squad’s battle skills are so poor that they actually gave up the surprise attack to avoid a big battle? Our squad is quality. Most of us were gladiators before this. And maybe they heard that we fought the Silver Lions,” Bachman spun his brain quickly.
“Hah, so they suggested a duel between the leaders because they think they have a better chance at winning. Haha!” Urich slapped his knee.
“Let’s just charge at them and destroy them all, Urich. We may have similar numbers, but rarely are other mercenary squads stronger than us,” Donovan said as he drew his sword.
“Nope, it’s fine. Let’s just go with the duel,” Urich waved his hand.
Both Donovan and Bachman frowned at Urich’s stubbornness. Their opinions were aligned for once.
“Did you not hear a word we said, Urich? We beat them all day!”
“And there’s no guarantee that they’re going to fight fair. What if they have an ambush waiting for you? If you die, our morale dies with you. We’ll lose a battle that we’d normally win with our eyes closed,” Donovan and Bachman said together.
“We only got caught because I was sick for days, isn’t that right? So, I have to take responsibility for it. If we fight as a squad, we’re bound to have some casualties even if we win. It’s good to spare any unnecessary bloodshed, right? I’m set on the duel. If you guys don’t agree, then let’s take it to a vote,” Urich grinned. Donovan spat on the ground.
“The vote is obviously going to go to you, dammit.”
The mercenaries preferred the duel of the leaders. No one was going to vote for an all-out battle where they could be the unlucky ones to die.
“Let’s go with the duel, Hrun’s Wolfpack! I am Urich, the leader of this squad!”
Urich roared. His loud voice reached all the way to the enemy camp.
“Woahhhhh!”
Both camps banged their weapons together and screamed. The mix of the sharp sound of heavy metals clashing and the men of the two mercenary squads cheering filled the area.
“Ohhhhh! I am Hrun!”
A man of large stature emerged from Hrun’s Wolfpack. The man who introduced himself as Hrun was even taller than Urich. Even among the northerners who were known to be large, he was a hulking figure.
Step, step.
Urich and Hrun both walked out to the halfway point between the two mercenary camps. Their names were being chanted from their respective squads.
“Uuurich! Urich! Urich!”
“Go, Hrun, go! Hrun, the man who smashes skulls with his bare hands!”
“Our leader runs with a horse slung around his shoulders!”
“How can I man run carrying a horse? Urich’s Brotherhood must be a bunch of liars!”
Both squads were busy arguing with each other.
“Ah! It is him. It’s the Hrun I know,” Sven suddenly opened his mouth. The other northerners recognized Hrun as well.
“Sven, stop talking to yourself and let us in on it,” the other mercenaries nagged Sven.
“He is quite a popular figure in the north. He killed a bear when he was just ten years old... I didn’t know he’d be working as a mercenary here. He’s the only Hrun with a size like that.”
“If he really is that Hrun, isn’t Urich in a bit of a danger? If he’s the one that killed the bear at ten, his track record is pretty impressive.”
The northerners chattered, making the other mercenaries flinch.
‘There’s no way Urich loses... right?’
The mercenaries’ faith in Urich was strong, but the sheer mass of his enemy planted a seed of doubt in their minds.
“Kekeke, Urich’s Brotherhood. I’ve heard the rumors—the mercenaries who fought equally against the Silver Lion Mercenaries,” Hrun said, holding his axe spear. The two mercenary leaders had gotten close enough to each other that they could clearly see each other’s faces.
‘I didn’t think it’d be so easy to convince them. This is a free win.’
Hrun’s Wolfpack was a weak mercenary squad. They were just a group of unimpressive bandits with the exception of Hrun. His reputation alone should have been enough to attract decent warriors, but even his fellow northerners had grown tired of his temper and left the squad.
“Huff, huff.”
Urich’s steps quickened. After quickly controlling his breath, he lightly pushed off the ground as he charged.
Hrun, on the other side, raised his axe spear across his chest and roared.
“Woahhhh!”
Hrun swung his axe spear wildly to the side.
Schuck.
Urich leaped, dashing past Hrun. After rolling on the ground behind Hrun, he continued his stride over to the Hrun’s Wolfpack’s camp without looking back at his enemy.
“Ugh, kuk,”
Hrun fell to the ground, clasping at his neck. Blood quickly filled his hands and spilled to the ground. Unable to stay on his feet, he fell to his knee. After hearing his enemy’s collapse behind him, he knew that he had won.
A single blow sealed the deal. Urich raised his hand, wiping the blood from his blade. No warriors of Hrun’s squad dared to come forward despite Urich’s taunt.
“Get the hell out of my sight before we kill every single one of you! You’re not a wolfpack. You’re just a bunch of bitches!”
Urich’s Brotherhood shouted as if they would charge at them at any moment, and Hrun’s Wolfpack scurried away to save their heads.
“We were worried for nothing,” Sven laughed hard as he looked at Urich, who was making his way back to their camp.
Urich, who had shaken off his illness, was as alive and well as ever, and he was still the undisputed strong mercenary leader.
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