episode_0037

The desolate wilderness of the imperial kingdom.

A long line of carriages and people on horseback are moving in formation.

Several large carriages and riders.

The riders, with their exotic appearance, are armed with crescent-shaped swords, typical of the slaves from the central continent.

“This time I was very lucky.”

“I raided some villages. If I sell them at the right price, I can take a year off.”

The riders, speaking incomprehensible words, gradually slowed down and pointed ahead.

It seems that the kingdom’s border patrol is approaching from this direction.

“Come. Be ready.”

At the lead rider’s command, the other riders pulled out small pouches from the middle carriage.

“Halt!”

The patrol reaching the carriage procession shouted sternly.

“Hello, do you speak our language?”

A person who knows the kingdom’s language smiled kindly and stepped forward.

“Where are you headed?”

“We’re going to Chij. We’re not your enemies.”

“Hmm.”

The patrol looked suspiciously at the long line of carriages.

“What’s inside there?”

“Oh, just rice.”

Saying so, he extended the small pouch he had prepared earlier.

Inside the slightly open pouch, gold coins gleamed.

“Each of you can have a sip of this wine.”

“Uh, well…”

Coughing awkwardly, the patrol accepted the pouch with a familiar gesture and stashed it deep in his pocket.

“Make sure there are no issues.”

“Understood, sir.”

As the patrol turned back, the slaves once again resumed their journey.

“You corrupt scoundrels.”

“Because of them, we earn our living.”

Mocking the corrupt patrol’s behavior, the slaves slowed their marching speed again.

A rider approaching from the front can be seen.

Another patrol? Or is it because of the rumors that things are getting complicated?

“Damn it. Get more money!”

This time, the slaves who prepared smaller pouches stopped and waited until the rider got close enough.

But something seems odd.

There’s only one rider, and what’s that thing sticking out long and thin beside the horse?

“What is this?!”

As soon as the rider reached the head of the procession, the slaves could see what it was.

It was a sword, so long that it was hard to call it a knife.

As the slaves drew their swords, the lead slave and the rider brushed past each other.

“Madman!? It’s a beast!!”

The horse’s neck and the slave’s waist were simultaneously severed, sending them flying.

Keeping the sword slanted to the side like the wind, the rider raced past the left side of the procession.

Following the rider, the dismembered slaves fell to the ground one by one.

“Flee!”

Overwhelmed by the momentum, the slaves fled frantically.

This time, with the sound of horns, people started rushing out from behind the hill where the fleeing slaves were.

Armored men armed with spears hung the slaves on their weapons, turning them into human pincushions in the air.

* * * * *

“Phew, impressive.”

Whistling while looking at the scattered bodies of the slain slaves, the plan to ambush and block the retreat with the knights worked perfectly.

“Move the wounded over here!”

The knights were helping the slaves off the carriages and sorting them out.

Those injured or in poor health were being sent to Liberonero, while those in better condition were heading to the temporary kitchen where Mirella was cooking something with the ingredients they brought.

The knights sat the captured slaves down, provided them with food, and busily moved around.

Why do they always eat stew in medieval fantasy? But in reality, there’s nothing like stew.

You can inflate a lot with few ingredients, and it’s hard to make it taste bad.

Moreover, there are a lot of slaves.

Twelve carriages, almost thirty people per carriage, totaling over three hundred personnel.

Really a lot. They must have gathered them all up.

Listening to those who were captured, these guys caught everyone after touring several villages.

And they say they met the border guards halfway, took bribes, and pretended not to see.

Trashy bastards. Tsk tsk.

“Jack. There’s a surviving slave trader, how should we handle it?”

Several knights dragged the bloodied slave trader in front of me and kneeled.

“P-please spare me! I have children!”

The slave trader, who seemed to understand our language, begged frantically, waving his hands.

“If you answer questions obediently, we will spare you.”

At my words, hope lit up on the slave trader’s face.

“I’ll answer anything!”

“Is there a mid-way checkpoint nearby? A place for final classification before returning to your homeland.”

Faced with a difficult question, the slave trader fell silent.

With a gesture, a knight harshly struck the slave trader’s abdomen.

“Cough!”

“Where is the mid-way checkpoint?”

Silence.

“I’ll come back later.”

As they turned away, the knights began to beat and trample the slave trader.

They roamed the procession of carriages, giving orders here and there.

Capturing surviving horses, looting valuables from the dead bodies.

Due to the culture of adorning oneself with jewelry throughout the continent’s central region, the taste of plundering was rich.

They bought things with money earned from selling slaves. No one would blame them for taking it.

Twelve carriages, twenty horses, bags full of metal jewelry, and around three hundred homeless people.

With one operation, they established a foundation to quickly expand the village’s size.

But they weren’t satisfied and decided to plunder the mid-way checkpoint as well.

Leading a group of thirty, they came this far to do what they could and then return.

Above all, there was a need to attack the mid-way checkpoint from an ideological perspective.

There, the grading of the slaves brought from various places was truly appalling.

Those deemed unsellable were killed, only the ones likely to sell well were taken.

It’s not just a mid-way checkpoint; it’s practically a slaughterhouse for humans.

Leaving such a crazy place behind was not an option.

Upon their return, the beaten slave trader looked at me, foaming at the mouth, and explained.

“I’ll tell you everything! Spare me!”

“The mid-way checkpoint. Where is it?”

The slave trader gestured and explained everything, even asking for paper and pen to draw a detailed map.

Comparing it to the original knowledge, the terrain matched, and the information seemed accurate.

“Kill him.”

“Wait, scoundrel! He said he’d save me!!”

One of the knights struck the screaming slave trader’s head with a mace.

After managing the scene to some extent, the knight officers gathered with Liberonne to discuss future operations.

Everyone agreed without dissent to attack the so-called mid-way checkpoint.

“Leave only the minimum number of people here and move immediately. Let’s strike at night.”

They encircled the carriages and left Mirrella and ten knights in the makeshift refugee camp, lighting fires here and there.

The rest mounted horses and carriages towards the slave trader’s mid-way checkpoint.

Continuing to ride while consulting the map, a rugged mountain gradually appeared in the distance.

The main force halted, and Liberonne and I hid in the bushes to conduct reconnaissance.

“Uh oh, this is tricky.”

The mid-way checkpoint was not a building or outdoors but a bunker-like cave.

Utilizing natural crevices in high cliffs to minimize external intrusion and escape of slaves.

This is really troublesome.

We don’t know the inner structure, and our knights lack the know-how to clear such a cramped interior.

Even Liberonne, the knight’s instructor, has never tried such a thing.

Because the sacred knights’ mission itself is not trivial like clearing buildings.

Putting the knights in like this will cause significant damage.

In a situation where each person is important, we cannot recklessly deploy trained troops.

What should I do…

As I lay flat on the ground thinking, something suddenly caught my eye.

It was the grass I was lying on. It’s not ordinary grass but a material used for item crafting.

More precisely, it’s not grass but small fruits about the size of beans that are roasted.

A good idea came to mind, so I immediately returned to the main base.

I gathered Liberonne and the officers and explained my plan.

“It’s a good plan, Jack.” “I agree too.”

Having everyone’s approval, I quickly took out a pot from the carriage, lit a fire, and started brewing.

Meanwhile, knights skilled in archery were quietly hiding near the cave in the forest.

As soon as the slave guards at the entrance fell, I grabbed the boiling pot and ran towards the cave.

The knights with arrows nocked tensely stood close to the cave entrance on both sides.

“Hurry up, Jack!”

“Just wait a little.”

I poured the mannamcho fruits into the boiling pot.

With a sizzling sound, a huge smoke began to rise immediately.

Alright, let’s do this!

Using an empty bamboo tube as a fan, I waved and pushed the smoke into the cave.

“What does this smell resemble!?”

An immediate reaction came from inside the cave.