Chapter 231

‘The City of Havilond.’

Urich squinted as he looked at the distant city walls. He had been out scouting. He slowly stood up from a crouch and grinned bitterly as he spat on the ground.

‘Back in my mercenary days, I took a commission of the lord here to drive out some bandits.’

The memory was still vivid. The guard captain, Setton, initially dismissed Urich but later recognized him as a warrior and treated him with kindness. Urich and his mercenaries were lavishly treated after subjugating the bandits.

A warrior from the Stone Axe Tribe tapped Urich on the shoulder.

"Urich, what are you thinking about?" The warrior asked.

"Old times," Urich kept his reply brief.

"Have you been here before?"

"The wall on the east side is low and weak. If we hit them there, we should be able to breach the city with ease."

Urich recalled the faint memories. Even the vague recollections brought the city's layout to mind. He was someone who didn’t easily forget things he had seen once.

‘I wonder how many people know me in this city.’

Turning around, Urich draped himself in his leather cloak. He descended the hill to where the alliance army was encamped. They were the vanguard of about three thousand troops.

"We’re heading to the west wall. Armata! Stay here and when Samikan's main force arrives, tell them to attack the east simultaneously."

"Understood, Urich."

Urich deftly issued orders and led his warriors. The warriors advanced down the ridge toward the west of Havilond.

Despite the early hour, Havilond, being a large commercial city, was still bustling. The warriors killed anyone they came across with their arrows.

Squeak!

"Aaaah!"

A merchant hauling a carousel screamed. A whole family tumbled out from behind the cart, trembling at the sight of the barbarians.

Schluck.

The warriors swung their blades with emotionless eyes, sparing no one, not even the women. Only chilling corpses were left in their wake.

Urich's unit swiftly took control of the west side of the city. The civilized mercenaries assembled siege weapons, and the warriors carried the ladders in groups to prepare for the charge.

Peeeeee!

The whistling arrows sounded from all directions. The city's guards on the walls, who had been dozing off, only then realized they were surrounded by enemies.

"Captain Setton! Guard captain!"

A soldier of the city called out for Setton, the guard captain. Setton hurriedly donned his armor and rushed outside the guardhouse.

"Dammit! Are these the infamous plunderers?"

"They have already started attacking!"

"Hold your positions! The enemy is barbarians! They cannot get through our walls!" Setton exclaimed as he climbed to the top of the wall.

"Shit!"

After going up the walls and getting a clear view of the situation, Setton cursed as he saw an army completely outside of his expectations. The western plunderers used a variety of equipment just like a civilized standing army. Notably, among the civilized mercenaries were those skilled in handling complex siege machinery like carpenters or engineers.

Click!

A ladder was hooked over the wall in front of Setton.

"Not a chance, barbarians! Spit."

Setton kicked the ladder off the wall while stabbing at a barbarian climbing up.

‘My god, are they really planning to get to the heart of the empire?’

For over fifty years, the empire had never suffered an invasion to its core. Even Mijorn of the north had only managed to barely breach the border.

"It’s the west side, Captain Setton! The west wall is collapsing."

Setton raced to the west wall, but the barbarians were already scaling it. The feeble local guards were no match for the barbarian warriors.

"Sir Setton! This is the lord’s message! Raise the white flag! Surrender!" A messenger on horseback shouted loudly.

The western plunderers had shredded up the Kingdom of Langkegart in its entirety. It was impossible for a single city like Havilond to resist them from the beginning.

“He orders you to surrender before the damage worsens, Sir Setton!”

The messenger shouted louder. Setton trembled as he watched the barbarians. His soldiers were dying around him even as he was shaking.

"Is our city supposed to give in to these barbarians!"

Setton bit his lip with bloodshot eyes, almost as if he would cry tears of blood. However, he followed the orders of Count Havilond and waved the white flag.

Ding! Ding!

The soldiers of Havilond rang the bell. The soldiers who heard the surrender signal dropped their weapons and lay down. The city gates opened almost too easily, allowing the barbarians to enter.

Step, step.

The armed plunderers entered through the gates with weapons slung over their shoulders. They surveyed the city with their faces drenched in blood. All the citizens had retreated into their homes, trembling in fear.

The soldiers of Havilond, having discarded their weapons, awaited their fate defenselessly.

“Ah?”

Guard captain Setton looked at the man who was at the forefront of the barbarians. He looked oddly familiar.

“Uriiiiiiich!”

Setton screamed in pain. As he sprang up, spears from the tribal warriors protruded all around him. Any false move and they were all ready to stab him through the neck.

“Wow, look, an old friend. Get your spears out of his face, you bastards!”

Urich shook off the blood from his axe as he walked toward Setton.

“It is you, Urich! You son of a bitch! How dare you attack Havilond! Havilond!”

Setton was furious. He liked Urich. Even to a guard captain, Urich was a great warrior. But now, he was nothing but a plunderer who had destroyed his city.

The sense of betrayal was greater because there had been affection.

Crack!

Urich kicked Setton's head and stomped on his chest.

Schriiing.

Urich's blade stopped right before Setton's eyes, trembling as if it would gouge out his eyes.

“If you want to know why we fight, ask that damned emperor of yours, Setton. Just as you protect the people of Havilond, I’m protecting my brothers and kin. It was good you surrendered quickly. That is going to be the reason your city doesn’t suffer too much damage.”

“Surrender was not my will but my lord’s.”

“Right, that man has always been smart. Setton, thanks to your master’s wise decision, Havilond won’t be erased from the map.”

Setton's fingers trembled. Urich slowly lifted his foot off Setton’s chest.

Count Havilond emerged from the inner wall and knelt before Samikan and Urich. He might be recorded as a coward who surrendered without a fight.

Havilond handed over the keys to the store rooms to Samikan. Every single storeroom in the city of Havilond was opened. The warriors looted everything from them and left nothing behind.

“You can take whatever you want, but please do not harm our citizens, Urich.”

Count Havilond recognized Urich and requested. Unlike Setton, he didn’t express any resentment toward Urich. He simply did what he could from the position he was in.

“I’ll try my best. Your display of cowardice today is the true bravery.”

Urich expressed his respect for Count Havilond’s decision. He had prioritized the safety of the city over any personal dignity. Had the surrender been delayed even slightly, the warriors caught in the heat of battle would have completely destroyed the entire city.

The lack of resistance prevented the plundering beyond necessary. Samikan instructed other tribal chiefs to refrain from plundering and invading civilian homes.

‘Samikan is listening to me. It’s something I’ve wanted for so long, yet it feels so strange.’

Samikan, considering Urich’s dignity and connections, preserved Havilond as much as possible. Of course, they scraped up everything valuable from silverware and jewels to food supplies for planting. Havilond, now with nothing left, was in for a tough time.

“Cooperate with the plunderers, citizens of Havilond!” Count Havilond exclaimed.

People vacated their homes to offer them as quarters for the plunderers to stay in. The amount of food consumed by an army of ten thousand was extraordinary. Despite efforts to restrain, visibly attractive women were frequently grabbed by the warriors and taken to barns.

“Just do what you need to do and let them go after. They surrendered peacefully so they could avoid shedding blood. If we make them see blood, then they’ll really rise up,” Urich said to the warriors hurrying into a barn with their trousers already half down.

“And what’s wrong with that? If they try to attack us, we’ll just kill them all.”

A tribal warrior laughed offhandedly, dismissing it like it was nothing.

Whoosh!

Urich threw an axe and hit a pillar of the barn.

“I won’t repeat myself. Remember what I just said.”

The warrior finally hid his smile and nodded. They forced a cloth into a woman’s mouth to stifle her as they released their pent-up needs.

Swoosh.

Some women voluntarily offered themselves instead of watching their daughters and young maidens be dragged away.

‘Is this sacrifice?’

Urich watched the women throwing themselves at the warriors. Some were prostitutes, others were mothers and wives. Women who were too weak to fight sacrificed themselves to protect the even more fragile and vulnerable girls.

The number of warriors emerging from the barn with satisfied looks on their faces grew. The sun was beginning to set.

The women returned to their homes after being tormented all night by the warriors. Even as they staggered, they supported one another. Despite their violated bodies, they seemed to glow.

‘A halo?’

Urich rubbed his eyes and looked again. It was just the movement of torchlight and moonlight.

“Urich, what are you doing there? Come over here, you gotta see this. There’s a funny guy.”

A young warrior called Urich over. It was mostly the older warriors who addressed Urich more formally or respectfully. Those around Urich’s age were more casual with him.

“What’s so funny about this guy?”

Urich stood up from roasting meat by the fire. He grabbed a half-cooked chicken and began tearing off chunks to eat as a snack.

“An idiot wearing a robe with a sun emblem showed up claiming he could treat us.”

“You mean a priest? Yeah, those guys are always going on about benevolence and love, and whatnot”

“But the guy who got treated died. It was a fatal wound anyway. But after sending one to his death, he still insisted on treating others. We’re showing him right now what happens when he messes with us.”

Urich headed to the plaza where the warriors were gathered. They were milling around with bows, seemingly betting on shooting at a person.

“Hey, if you keep moving like that, you might get hit! Not that you understand our language anyway!”

A bald warrior said as he shot an arrow. It flew straight into a wooden board. A trembling priest was standing in front of the board.

“There are people that I can save. Please, give me a chance,” the priest managed to call out in a strained voice.

“What’s he saying?”

“He says he can save someone?”

“The one he treated earlier, Buker, he died. He must have come to curse us, that damned sun shaman!”

The bald warrior cursed and shot another arrow. This time, it hit the priest’s arm, but the arrow merely passed through his sleeve.

“Eh? I thought I got his arm. Is he missing an arm?”

The priest’s right sleeve flapped empty. There was nothing where his right arm should be.

The bald warrior, after blinking dumbfounded, drank heavily from his bottle. Even his scalp was flushed red. He drew another arrow and pulled the bowstring. Even the most skilled archer could make a mistake in such a drunken state.

The priest muttered a prayer with a pale face. Then, he opened his eyes. Upon seeing something behind the bald warrior, his eyes got wider. It was as if he had seen his savior.

Crack.

Someone touched the warrior’s head. The bald warrior felt a skull-crushing pain and swung a dagger behind him in response. Even in his drunk state, his counterattack managed to target the head accurately.

Schluck!

The bald warrior’s dagger dug into soft flesh, but it was not the sensation of stabbing a person.

“Damn, you wanted my chicken that bad?”

Urich blocked the dagger with the chicken he was holding. He moved the chicken aside, revealing a fierce smile.

“U-Urich!”

“If you like it so much, eat it until your mouth rips open.”

Urich shoved an entire chicken into the warrior’s mouth. The chicken’s meat and bones were crushed under his tremendous grip and were forced into the warrior’s mouth. The helpless warrior trembled with tears and snot running down his face. Blood also dripped down the sides of his mouth as his mouth was torn open.

“Uuugh, ugh.”

“Piss off. This sun shaman is my guest.”

Urich kicked the bald warrior's rear and then looked at the priest. The one-armed priest’s face seemed familiar.

“Long time no see, Gottval.”

Urich was the first to greet.

Gottval was the priest who had once taken a snake bite for Urich. Fortunately, he was able to survive, though he did lose his right arm in the process.

Urich had personally amputated Gottval’s arm. The sensation seemed to revive in his fingertips.

“I never thought I’d see you again, Urich.”

Gottval staggered toward Urich.

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