Ch.327Pursuit

“Hmm… If the ‘Hero’ of the system makes such a guarantee, I suppose we can take it as fact. Did you not see it yourselves? The divine power that Baron Median displayed on the Zeren Plains, and the scars that the Baron and Rurik left on the walls. If that beast who calls himself the Winter Wolf is of equal skill to the Baron, he would certainly be too much for us to handle alone.”

Lord Faelrun murmured softly, as if consoling his knights.

“That’s… true.”

The knights reluctantly agreed.

Of course they had to agree.

Though their pride might make them unwilling to admit it, what I said was the unexaggerated truth.

In fact, even reaching the realm of Heroes doesn’t make one invincible.

Karma is a power that gets consumed. Typically, a Hero would fall if fifteen to twenty Masters and over a hundred knights launched continuous attacks.

The problem is that neither Rurik nor I are typical Heroes.

The power of my Murder Karma and Rurik’s regenerative abilities are useful in duels against powerful opponents, but they’re essentially optimized for sweeping away large numbers of weaker enemies.

At the pinnacle of such abilities was the Tale of Heros that Hersella possessed in the original work.

Since I’ve already manifested my own Tale of Heros, I probably can’t use that technique.

I’ve only seen it in the game, so I don’t even know how to activate it.

“Baron Median, could you kill Rurik if you fought him again?”

“It would take quite some time, but if there were no interruptions, it would be possible.”

He’s already seen the Defying Fate sword, so he’ll be thoroughly on guard, but his only way to block my attacks is to avoid the slashes entirely, like a lizard cutting off its tail.

Even his seemingly infinite regeneration will eventually be depleted, so I’d have a chance if I pressed him until then. Especially now that he’s missing his left arm.

Moreover, unlike when fighting with hit-and-run tactics, he couldn’t respond properly when I stuck close to him in close quarters.

Thanks to that, I got the perfect opportunity to swing the Defying Fate sword. Though I failed to take his head.

It was an obvious weakness, when you think about it.

The enemies he’d fought were probably Werebeasts about his own size, or weak humans he could overwhelm one-sidedly.

He likely had almost no experience with opponents half his size diving into his guard and attacking.

“If I’m willing to risk serious injury, I might be able to finish him more quickly than expected.”

Maintaining close quarters with him would mean taking considerable risk on my part, but if we need to end things quickly, that approach is worth considering.

—-

After Lord Faelrun’s statement, no knight opposed the pursuit any further.

Even those who had advocated caution acknowledged that they couldn’t stop Rurik without me. Though their expressions weren’t particularly pleased.

All that remained was to organize the pursuit team.

It didn’t take long. Once the decision to chase them had been made, every minute and second was precious.

All knights who weren’t severely wounded were mobilized for the pursuit. Imperial knights and Northern knights alike.

Those who had fought fierce battles all night, and those who had just completed a grueling forced march. Both sides needed sufficient rest, but there was no time for that.

The Northern knights were in somewhat better condition.

Despite the forced march, they had ridden horses rather than running on two legs.

They were tired, of course, but their fatigue was nothing compared to the Imperial knights who had fought a fierce, even desperate battle just hours ago.

On the other hand, even excluding the severely wounded, many Imperial knights were injured.

Lord Faelrun brought out all the highest-grade potions from the supply warehouse and distributed them to everyone, temporarily postponing intensive healing for the severely wounded and even diverting the priests’ healing arts to them.

As a result, the Imperial knights were still glowing with holy light.

At that level, by the time they encountered the Werebeasts, most of their wounds would be healed.

For me, with my Mana Resistance reducing the effects of potions, I could only rely on healing miracles, but since the only real attack I’d taken was a knee strike to the abdomen, there was no major problem.

The rest were just torn muscles or bruises.

Compared to the wolf who had lost an arm, these injuries were hardly worth calling wounds.

—-

An hour later, the fully organized and regrouped pursuit team assembled before the castle gate.

Eighty Imperial knights and two hundred thirty Northern knights. Plus eleven Masters and myself.

The numbers weren’t great, but this was the maximum force the Northern army could muster at this point.

It was impossible to mobilize the soldiers for pursuit.

Not only would they slow down the movement speed, but even if all the potions and priests in Faelrun Castle were mobilized, it would be impossible to heal all the soldiers.

Besides, there weren’t enough war horses to carry them all.

The number of horses the Imperial army had brought when dispatched to the North was less than five hundred.

While the pursuit team was being assembled, I somehow managed to patch up my tattered armor and put it on.

Stitching the torn fur, removing broken scales, and reinforcing with black iron plates. I didn’t do the repairs myself; the castle blacksmiths did the work.

With leather covered in stitches and silver scales mixed with black plates, it looked ridiculous, like a clown’s outfit, but there was no choice.

Though Werebeast hides were abundant all over the walls, there was no time to skin and process them, and the armor’s scales were originally made with Dwarven techniques that only Asha could repair.

“Knights of Faelrun, hunters of the North! The time has come to hunt the winter! The time to carve the fear of being hunted and humanity’s wrath into those arrogant beasts! Forward!”

“Death to the beasts!”

The knights spurred their horses and charged forward.

Their horsemanship was clumsy and the ground conditions were terrible, but it was still much faster than running on two legs.

—-

Even while riding, the discussion of tactics continued.

The six Masters of the Northern army were galloping at the front, seemingly with nothing to say, while Lord Faelrun, Frider, and Karl were positioned in the center of the formation.

I was also talking beside them.

“The beasts scattered in all directions during their retreat. We don’t know where the ‘second rally point’ Rurik mentioned is… but until they reach it, they’ll remain divided into small groups.”

“Then should we divide our knights as well? If they’re scattered, picking them off one by one might be a good approach.”

Karl shook his head at Frider’s words. I had the same thought.

“No, we have too little strength for that. When the distance closes, they’ll notice us too, and if we divide our numbers here, we’ll be the ones getting picked off.”

What individual battles? The purebloods alone outnumber all our knights combined, and with the mixed-bloods added, there are over a thousand of them.

Suggesting we split our forces is practically suggesting mass suicide.

“…That’s true.”

Frider nodded. She seemed to realize how foolish her suggestion had been, her face slightly reddening.

She didn’t seem like such a slow-witted woman normally. Perhaps fatigue and anger had clouded her judgment.

Come to think of it, she was the only one who lost in the wall battle.

It was just bad luck in matchups, but she must feel frustrated.

“Hmm…”

Seeing her expression, Lord Faelrun nodded slightly. The corner of his stiff mouth turned up ever so slightly.

“Baron Median is right. Dividing our forces at this point would be the worst strategy. Right now, we must focus our strength on striking at the enemy’s head. Understood, Frider?”

“I, I was just thinking out loud! I wasn’t really suggesting we split up…”

Frider looked at her father with a flushed face, protesting as if wronged.

It didn’t seem like she was just thinking out loud to me.

“…Very well. We’ll leave it at that.”

Lord Faelrun nodded.

Frider’s face reddened further at her father’s casual acceptance of her excuse.

They seem to get along well.

Even the iron-blooded Duke appeared somewhat softer in front of his daughter. Though it wasn’t very obvious.

[How unpleasant.]

Hersella muttered as if the sight disturbed her.

‘Why?’

[A grown child should rightfully aim for their father’s neck. Throwing tantrums like a child—how could anyone view this favorably?]

…More nonsense from this woman.

‘If that were the right way, the world would collapse quickly. No one would want to have children.’

[Ha! Cowards who fear inheritance and don’t dare to have children don’t deserve to continue their bloodline!]

Her confident tone, as if stating something completely obvious, left me speechless.

Are you the only person in the world who calls patricide for inheritance “succession”?

Anyway, the pursuit team continued north as one unified force.

We didn’t know where the beasts’ rally point was, but it had to be somewhere between the northern wall and Faelrun Castle. We’d encounter them if we kept following.

We’d lost some time due to rest, discussion, and reorganization…

But the beasts were mostly wounded too. Their retreat couldn’t be that fast.