The emergency alarm rang, but no one woke up from their sleep upon hearing it.
After all, itâs impossible to wake up again if youâre already awake.
Everyone stayed up all night with open eyes. The news that the knolls were coming again kept them on edge.
The beasts and monsters returned once more.
This time, it was different from before.
The creatures filled one side of the wilderness, and among them were objects they hadnât seen before.
Two or three of them were approaching, carrying long objects under their arms.
These were long tools with holes in the middle.
Unlike before, they werenât charging recklessly, they had some semblance of order.
There were dozens of such organized groups.
Deutsche, recalling what he learned from a military veteran mercenary when he first joined, tried to estimate their numbers.
He bent his fingers to form a circle and used it to count the knolls, estimating how many such circles would cover the entire area.
âTwenty.â
Roughly twenty per circle, and about fifty circles in total? It seemed to be around that number.
Mixed among the knolls and hyena beasts were ghoul hordes creeping around.
It was a horrifying number, even more than yesterday. Yesterday was already a nightmare.
Everything was dreadful, but the most terrifying part was what they were holding.
Those long, hole-riddled tools.
âLadders?â
The word slipped out involuntarily.
Deutsche Pullman felt a sense of dread.
The knolls had brought ladders.
Monstrous knolls used weapons. Therefore, if taught, they could use tools.
What was more astonishing was that it was evident these were hastily made objects.
âThey made ladders?â
No way, why the hell did the knolls make ladders?
There must be a sinister mastermind behind this, someone pulling the strings.
âThe cultists.â
The thought made him even more anxious. Of course, the immediate problem was the ladders.
Whether hastily made or carefully constructed, if those ladders started piling up against the walls, the quality of the ladders wouldnât matter.
âBoiling oil!â
Deutsche shouted instinctively.
âDo you think we have that?â came the village chiefâs retort.
There were some stones left to throw, but not many. They had quite a few arrows, but could they fend off the roughly thousand monsters with those?
When they were all bunched up under the walls, shooting would hit them. But there were only twenty archers.
They couldnât pour boiling oil like in a siege.
Should they collect and pour filth?
Would hitting them with excrement drive away the knolls or hyena beasts?
Not a chance.
They had to hold out for seven more days for reinforcements, but could they make it?
âIf only we had enough stones.â
With only twenty archers and the entire village pitching in, what would happen?
Once the stone-throwing was over, they couldnât really use the villagers as any sort of fighting force.
Sending these villagers into melee combat would be like throwing rare steaks to the knolls.
They couldnât haul enough throwable stones from the quarry in just one day. They lacked the means and manpower.
Even if they carried whatever they could, it wouldnât be enough. They couldnât stop them that way.
âNo chance.â
If the ladders went up, it would be over. The difference in numbers was clear, even if they tried to stop them with arrows and rolling stones.
Even if the cultists pulled some tricks, if they cast a curse, how could they resist?
Theyâd be lucky if everyone didnât collapse on the spot.
Deutsche himself had no real means to resist such curses.
This was just a small pioneer village, it wasnât something a former mercenary leader could handle alone.
To be honest, Deutsche wanted to run away.
Yesterdayâs victory was already a distant memory.
The craftsman they brought in to build the wall had joked about naming it the âMad Encrid Wallâ, hadnât he?
What a joke, they couldnât even lay the foundation stones properly.
At this rate, this place would become a colony nest for the knolls. It would become their village. A village for knolls? The thought was maddening.
Eventually, a large-scale hunting party would be organized, and theyâd easily burn such a village to the ground.
But what about those who would die and lose their homes in the meantime?
Deutsche had invested everything he had in this pioneer village. If it was taken, heâd be left with nothing. Heâd have to start from scratch, swinging his sword for a living again.
So, should he run away? Is that really what he should do?
âIf I run, where would I go?â
There was nowhere to go. Even if he took the mercenaries and escaped through the quarry, where would they head next?
Should they cross the border?
Yeah, right. An unplanned journey would be akin to suicide.
Yet, his long experience as a mercenary told him that running away offered the better chance of survival.
âDamn it.â
The curse slipped out instinctively.
Just then, a voice spoke up nearby.
âWhat was that guyâs name again?â
âDeutsche.â
The voice belonged to the hero of the previous night, the crazy Platoon leader with black hair and blue eyes.
The madman who had single-handedly charged into the knoll horde and sliced through their leader.
âDeutsche, open the gate a bit.â
Encrid spoke.
Deutscheâs brow furrowed, mirroring the turmoil inside him. Beside him, Krais spoke in a clear, prepared voice.
âRemember, the command authority lies with my Platoon leader. Follow the orders immediately, Chief of Security.â
He was merely stating what needed to be done and what needed to be protected, but the effect was clear.
Krais didnât use an arrogant or forceful tone.
The timing was perfect.
Is there any other option? Look at the ladders, isnât this the worst moment compared to when they first arrived? And what about the cultists? You donât have a choice.
In summary, it was an escape route.
By relinquishing command, Deutsche could avoid responsibility.
From Kraisâs perspective, Deutsche Pullman was a stubborn but decent man.
âIt would have been easier if he had given up earlier.â
Security of the pioneer village? Whatâs the point of that title?
Future planning? This is a gamble. How many pioneer villages have fallen like this?
Especially in such a tangled situation?
If it were Krais, he would have already looted the village with his mercenaries and fled.
Seriously.
Of course, Krais couldnât do that.
If he did, Encridâs hand or foot might become a blade against him.
After all, the Platoon leader was genuinely committed to saving people.
Thinking about it made Krais a bit uneasy. The guy had a knack for doing strange things.
Just look at this situation, he was still up to something odd.
It was right after the emergency alarm had rung.
âOnly Lua, Esther, and I will go out.â
âWhere to?â
âOutside the walls.â
This was what Encrid had said amidst the ringing alarm.
Krais had seriously wondered if Encrid had hit his head during the fight yesterday.
âYou know you almost died yesterday?â
Encrid nodded.
âIt was a close call.â
Does this guy not care about his own life?
âEyes on me.â
Just as Krais thought that, Encrid opened his mouth. Not wanting to get hit, Krais averted his gaze.
âWhat if weâre unlucky today?â
âWe have Lua, donât we?â
No matter how impressive the Frog is, is Lua some kind of Knight? No, sheâs not, right?
No, sheâs not. So itâs dangerous.
âFind something to do yourself.â
This was as far as Encrid went. That was the end of the conversation. After that, Krais had to think for himself.
âThe front-line combat will be done by just one human, one Frog, and one panther.â
What could the remaining people do?
They could cheer.
âThey could also shoot arrows appropriately.â
Krais dismissed the fleeting thoughts. It was time to think of immediate tasks.
âThen, as I assume command, I order you to open the gate.â
Krais spoke.
Encrid was already at the gate, chatting with Lua and Esther hurrying along beside them.
âDonât die.â
Krais muttered to himself. If the Platoon leader died, it would be difficult for Krais to survive as well.
Krais didnât think Encrid was a foolish person.
âHe must have a plan.â
As absurd as it seemed, Krais trusted him. He remembered Encridâs back blocking his path in the middle of a battlefield.
They barely survived that time.
The Platoon leader then and now were incomparable.
It wasnât just about the promotion from Squad leader to Platoon leader.
His skills had improved. His ambition to become a Knight seemed more achievable with how rapidly he was improving.
âI said to open it! Disobedience will be punished by beheading, Deutsche Pullman!â
Kraisâs voice was now forceful, a tone he hadnât used earlier.
He wasnât a mercenary leader nor Encrid.
He was just a weak human, so he needed to rely on authority.
âY-yes, sir.â
Deutsche responded, relinquishing his duties and responsibilities as the former chief of security.
âCut off the heads of those who donât obey.â
He directed this to Deutsche, though he didnât actually expect anyone to be beheaded.
Of course, that didnât happen.
Soon, the pulley creaked, and the log gate began to open.
Encrid, Lua, and Esther stepped outside.
It wasnât a reckless charge like yesterday. The knolls and hyena beasts, though awkwardly formed, maintained some order, while a mass of ghouls approached from one side.
Somewhere among them, the cultist was hiding.
Before a force that could be called an army, only three stood.
Seeing this, Krais felt a dry mouth. He swallowed hard, avoiding the gaze of others.
Whatever they did, he had to support them from behind.
âBring all soldiers skilled in archery.â
The archers.
âPlace stones around so they can be thrown easily.â
The villagers and everyone else began to move according to Kraisâs orders.
Using the log barricade as a makeshift wall, they prepared to face the approaching enemy force.
* * *
Encrid was relieved that Krais was managing things, freeing him from worrying about it.
âIf it werenât for the treasure, this would have been a lot of trouble.â
Had it not been for some map-related task, Krais wouldnât have been involved in this mission.
In that case, Encrid wouldnât have brought him along.
Handling miscellaneous commands and other minor tasks would have fallen on him if not for Krais.
Deutsche Pullman, whether a glaive or one-eyed, looked like someone who had lost his courage.
âHe looks like someone just waiting to die.â
It was a look he had seen often, one of a broken spirit.
After observing this, Encrid stopped paying attention. He focused on his sword, himself, and the new insights he had gained.
It was time for that.
As he stood before the log gate, the dream from last night came to mind.
The conversation with the ferryman, as vivid as a brand in his mind, his reaction, and the events that followed.
âYou used a trick.â
The ferryman showed no emotion when saying that.
âIt just happened that way.â
These words were spoken in his mind.
The ferryman seemed to understand.
The ferry bobbed up and down, even though there were no waves.
It seemed to reflect the ferrymanâs current mood.
How dare you? A trick? Such deceit?
Yet Encrid felt at peace.
âBound by laws, wandering through time, you will regret this, this is not the end.â
The ferryman recited some verse as a warning, but Encrid merely acknowledged it.
What use was there in pondering words he couldnât understand?
Even now, and in the dream, he only dreamt of tomorrow.
That was the end of it. The ferryman vanished, and then the nightmare began.
He dreamt of being trapped in a well, seeing the moon shining above but unable to climb out, day after day.
In the dream, Encrid clawed at the walls until his nails cracked, peeled, and broke, but he couldnât reach the top.
Thatâs why he had thrashed about in his sleep.
âWhat kind of dream was it?â
Lua asked as the log gate opened.
âIt was a dream where the moonlight was beautiful.â
It wasnât untrue. The moonlight shining above the well was beautiful, intoxicating even in the dream.
It was moonlight that required no drop of alcohol.
âIt doesnât sound like a nightmare.â
âDoes it?â
They exchanged a few nonchalant words.
âCaw.â
Esther made a sound as she looked at the open gate. Glancing down, Encrid felt Esther staring up at him.
âIâll need your help again today.â
Esther was no ordinary panther. That much was already clear.
Then, what about himself?
âWhew.â
He took a deep breath and recalled what he had learned.
Oh, there was something he needed to check first. He almost forgot.
âLua.â
âSpeak.â
âShow us what you can do.â
How well would a provoked Frog fight? Remembering this fact, he spoke.
Grrrr.
Luaâs cheeks puffed up.
âAlright, Iâll show you.â
The Frog spoke first, then dashed forward, kicking off the ground and sending dirt flying like a fountain. How reassuring it was to see.
He was curious.
How well would a provoked Frog fight?
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