Ambush

"Lord Governor," an officer said, urging his horse up beside Hectorv within the hurrying column, "the scouts report no sign of the enemy around Sunset Pass, but they found traces of a small number of Demi-human wolf riders twenty miles north of the pass. The enemy army appears to be retreating toward the Gelmir region."

Hectorv reined in his horse, raised a hand to shade his brow, and gazed toward the jagged natural pass ahead. He clicked his tongue. "We set out a little too late. If we could've blocked those bastards south of the pass, not a single one of them would have slipped through my fingers!"

"Pass down the order. Cavalry in front, infantry behind, baggage wagons at the rear. The whole army is to pick up the pace and chase them down!"

"Yes, sir!"

Within barely fifteen minutes of the order being given, the Kallen City Guard, already advancing at a forced march, shifted formation again. The cavalry and light infantry at the front quickly pulled away from the heavy infantry behind them with their greatshields, while the mule-drawn ballista carts and supply wagons lagged far to the rear. The entire force turned into a long, thin snake formation and rushed straight toward Sunset Pass.

In Hectorv's experience, smashing those Demi-humans and Misbegotten head-on had never been difficult. Even if the other side occasionally dragged out one or two hulking Trolls, in the face of the City Guard's tight tactics—greatshields encircling them while crossbowmen loosed concentrated volleys—they were nothing more than slow-moving live targets. The only real obstacle keeping him from wiping out these rebels was the harsh natural environment of southern Gelmir.

Those Demi-humans and Misbegotten often collapsed at the first touch when facing the regular army under his command, then burrowed into the endless wilderness nearby like fish slipping through a net. Even if he sent elite light cavalry after them the whole way, riding hard on their tails, the enemy could flee farther into the hot volcanic region of northern Gelmir. Several pacification campaigns over the past three years had returned empty-handed for precisely that reason.

This time, however, he keenly sensed that the one opposite him was an unprecedentedly big fish. Judging from the clues gathered by the scouts, that band of rebels had likely gathered several hundred, perhaps even a thousand, scattered soldiers and vagrants, braving the danger to push deep south of Sunset Pass and prepare to pull off something big on Kallen's side. And so, over the past few weeks, he had guarded every approach tightly, refusing to show the slightest opening, relying on solid city defenses to slowly wear down the enemy's provisions and strength.

By these last two days, no matter how he calculated it, they should have reached the point where their supplies were exhausted and their whole army was collapsing in retreat. Once these deductions matched the scouts' intelligence, Hectorv decisively issued an order that would have seemed almost reckless under ordinary circumstances—as long as he caught the enemy's main force before nightfall, with the advantage in individual quality, equipment, and morale, he was fully confident he could seize the greatest victory at the smallest cost.

The light cavalry advanced extremely quickly, especially with the governor personally leading the charge. The officers and soldiers naturally gave it their all. They had rushed into Sunset Pass fifteen minutes ago, and now only a few minutes' travel remained before they reached the exit.

This natural pass was enclosed by more than a dozen surrounding ridges of varying heights. Viewed from the sky, it roughly formed a funnel shape, wide at the front and narrow at the back, and counted as the most convenient route from Kallen to southern Gelmir.

Two years ago, Hectorv had wanted to set up a checkpoint here to guard against Demi-human tribes moving south, but the climate conditions here were already extremely close to Gelmir's—bone-chillingly cold in winter and dry, scorching, and unbearable in summer. Maintaining a heavily guarded pass here long-term for the sake of a group of alien races that could never amount to anything was simply not worth the cost, so the plan had died without result.

Hoofbeats stirred thunderous echoes through the narrow valley. The well-equipped knights swayed slightly with the jolting of their saddles, like arrows breaking through the air and shooting toward the enemy's back. Hectorv looked over the mighty momentum of the troops under him with satisfaction, and, feeling great merit already within reach, he was quite pleased with himself for a time.

He instinctively looked left and right, wanting to find someone to flatter him with a few words, only to discover that within several paces of him there was only one figure riding at his side. He could not help but frown slightly.

"Hey, Clareville—" He squeezed his horse's flanks and moved two steps closer, keeping abreast of him. "What do you think of this battle?"

Clareville glanced back at him coolly and said in a distant tone, "I do not understand what Your Excellency means by that question."

The smile Hectorv had just forced onto his face stiffened, and a fleeting trace of malice flashed through his eyes. "Nothing else. I just wanted to ask you—today, we'll be killing quite a few rebellious Demi-humans and Misbegotten. You ought to be very happy, no?"

"After all," the corners of his mouth lifted into a mocking smile, "this counts as taking revenge for that 'daughter' of yours too, doesn't it?"

The words had barely left his mouth when Clareville suddenly yanked hard on the reins. The warhorse beneath him instantly reared up, letting out a string of loud neighs!

At the same time, Hectorv had already charged nearly ten meters ahead. Seeing this, he hurriedly pulled in his reins as well, turned his horse's head, and looked back in astonishment at the man who had always lowered his brows and bent his eyes before him.

Of course he knew exactly how vile his words were, and he was also well aware of Clareville's feelings for that adopted Demi-human daughter of his. Precisely because of that, he preferred using this unbearably vicious method to tear open the scar at the bottom of the other man's heart. Back in the royal capital, he had already been displeased with these Perfumers, who had no limits and no sense of hierarchy. After coming to Kallen, Clareville's behavior disgusted him even more.

As one of the Golden People born at the foot of the Erdtree and blessed by the great Elden Ring, he had actually mixed together with a group of lowly, filthy Demi-humans and Misbegotten, and had even adopted a Demi-human whelp as his foster daughter. This was nothing less than a blasphemy against the Golden Order! Every time he saw that little bastard running happily through Kallen's streets and alleys, he wished he could smash her to death with one strike of his sword and throw the corpse outside to feed the wild dogs beyond the city.

But Clareville was not the sort of internal affairs officer he could handle however he liked. During the years of his demotion to Kallen, the man had relied on his outstanding perfumery to treat large numbers of citizens suffering from illness and pain. Add to that his approachable personality, and his prestige in the city was even greater than Hectorv's, a governor parachuted in from Leyndell. In the first two years they worked together, Hectorv felt he had already shown unprecedented restraint.

Until one year ago, when a Demi-human tribe of fewer than fifty people raided a farm outside the city. Hectorv sent out his own personal guards, and it had taken only two hours from start to finish to execute them all. Only, among the severed heads they brought back, there was one person who should not have been there—Clareville's adopted daughter, Monica.

According to Clareville, his daughter had only gone to deliver a salve he had just compounded to the farm owner's mother, to relieve the back ailment that had tormented the woman for years. And so Hectorv told him that the whole thing had been a misunderstanding...

Since the governor had guaranteed it, the matter could only be a misunderstanding. At least, that was how Hectorv himself thought of it.

"What do you mean?" Hectorv looked at the man halted behind him, reins drawn tight. Clareville's entire body was giving off a chill that seeped into the bones, making him feel a burst of unease for no reason.

"On April twenty-eighth, one year ago, you ordered the personal guards under you to murder my daughter—"

"I told you, that was a misunderstanding..."

"That farm owner told me in private that his mother held Monica tightly in her arms and sobbed to your guard captain that the child was not a rioting thug, but the daughter of Kallen's internal affairs officer. But that cruel bastard still tore her out of that old woman's hands, and took her life without the slightest humanity."

"Clareville, watch your wording!" Hectorv sensed something strange and shouted harshly, "Are you really going to suspect your superior and your comrades out of thin air over the empty testimony of one commoner with no evidence?"

"Shut your mouth, bastard," Clareville said flatly. Visible exhaustion showed on his face, like a musical actor who had finally removed his mask after a dozen hours of nonstop performance.

Soldiers surged past the open ground on both sides of them toward the mouth of the valley, then, forced by the rapidly narrowing terrain there, had no choice but to slow their steps and reorganize their ranks. The clamor of shouts, neighing horses, and scraping armor gathered together, making Hectorv briefly think he had misheard.

"You said... what?"

"I've had enough of you people. Your stupid and narrow-minded interpretations of the law, your rotten and filthy noble lineages... No wonder Leyndell always breeds nauseating goods like you." He shook his head listlessly. "Your personal guard, fifty men; the new army of three hundred and thirty-seven men built over these three years, they're all here. As for the dozen or so Leyndell Knights left to defend the city, I've already arranged for them too."

"So—please, all of you, die."

As his calm words fell, a tremendous crash of shattered rock suddenly erupted at the mouth of the valley. The cliffs on both sides, rigged long ago with powder, were blown into collapse all at once, and waterfall-like earth and stone instantly swallowed dozens of cavalrymen preparing to form ranks and leave the valley! Hectorv looked up in horror and saw countless Demi-humans and Misbegotten poking their heads out from among the ridges on both sides of the pass. Innumerable polished bone arrows and wooden shafts were all aimed at the panicked, helpless City Guard in the valley.

The next second, bowstrings snapped out, and arrows fell like rain!