How To Live As A Third Son Of A Failure [EN]: Chapter 194

The fortress interior erupted in activity. Everyone hurried to their assigned positions, preparing to light the beacon that would signal an attack from the rear. Non-combat personnel rushed to move cauldrons of boiling water, originally intended for meals, to the ramparts, along with supplies of arrows and stones.

Mason, directing the frantic preparations, frowned when he spotted Sella still standing on the ramparts.

“Why aren’t you evacuating? What are you doing here?”

“Evacuate the fortress, you say?”

“Yes! Immediately!”

“Why should I?”

Mason’s eyes widened at Sella’s response, a silent ‘Are you serious?’ etched on his face.

“I have no intention of being frightened by the approaching enemy and running away. I intend to fight.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I don’t believe this is a situation for jokes.”

“…Alright.”

Perhaps Sella’s unwavering determination resonated with him, because Mason slowly nodded.

“Attention, everyone!”

Mason shouted, drawing the soldiers’ attention, then glanced at Sella.

“We need to bolster the morale of our soldiers before the battle commences. Would you be willing to say a few words?”

“This fortress belongs to Commander Mason. You are the one who should address them.”

Mason nodded firmly at Sella’s words. He drew his sword and surveyed the troops.

“It seems the Basarak sewer rats are attempting to make a move. I trust there isn’t anyone here foolish enough to fear mere vermin?”

“Ooooh!”

At Mason’s rallying cry, the soldiers raised their weapons in unison.

“Moreover, we have a distinguished guest in our midst today. We must not allow our esteemed guest to get their hands dirty!”

“That’s right!”

“Just watch! We’ll handle everything!”

The soldiers cheered, brandishing their weapons at the sight of Sella, the symbol of the esteemed Ilia and the Allied Forces.

Mason nodded, satisfied with their response. He raised his sword once more and roared,

“If everyone fulfills their duty in their assigned area, this fortress will never fall! Remember the number of rats you each crush! After the battle, I will reward you according to that count! Everyone, prepare for battle!”

“Waaaah!”

It was a brief speech, but undeniably effective. The soldiers on the ramparts sharpened their gazes, anticipating the imminent clash.

Seeing this, Sella approached Mason.

“How many enemies are we facing?”

“I’m not entirely certain, but it appears to be around 1,500. It’s not a negligible force.”

“Could Redran be directly involved?”

“I don’t believe so. Redran’s insignia is not visible. It’s likely an army commanded by a lord under his banner.”

“A unilateral action, then?”

“That’s difficult to ascertain. Whether Redran dispatched them or they’re acting independently remains unclear.”

“I see.”

“In any case, we’ve lit the beacon. Now, all that remains is to determine whether we can hold out until reinforcements arrive, or whether we’ll be breached.”

The current garrison of this fortress numbers approximately 300 soldiers.

It’s a respectable number for an outpost primarily intended to deter enemy incursions, but it still seems insufficient given the size of the enemy force.

‘Battle…’

I had experienced it before. I suddenly recalled leading the Bashrun Knights towards Baron Trill’s castle during the Bashrun Civil War.

The scent of the battlefield I experienced then was now rising here as well.

Moments later, a horse galloped out from the army surrounding the fortress.

“Listen, commander of the fortress!”

A short, sharp cry echoed towards the fortress.

“I am Schure, a knight loyal to Baron Beox. If you open the gates of the fortress and surrender now, I guarantee everyone’s life. But if you continue to lock the gates and resist! You will all die in the end!”

At Knight Schure’s pronouncement, Sella turned to Mason.

“Baron Beox…”

“He’s one of Redran’s henchmen. He participated in this war and gained a considerable amount of trust by achieving significant victories in the southeast. Now, he commands a substantial army.”

“Do you know that knight as well?”

“Schure is a knight quite famous in the east for his considerable skill and cruel reputation. He appears to be leading this attack.”

As time ticked by, Knight Schure smirked and spread his hands.

“Are you contemplating surrender? I can wait as long as you need, but it’s hard to endure the boredom until then. So, is there anyone who will spar with me to relieve my boredom?”

“…”

“No one? Well, it would have been too much to ask of you cowards cowering behind the ramparts.”

At Schure’s taunts, laughter erupted from the army surrounding the fortress.

“Are you scared!”

“Come out and face me, you cowards!”

Sella, who had been observing Schure and the enemy’s reaction, slowly nodded.

“He’s digging his own grave.”

She turned decisively and looked at Ilia.

“Ilia, Commander.”

Sella’s loud and clear voice echoed within the relatively quiet fortress.

At that, the gazes inside the fortress, which had been suppressing anger while looking at Schure, turned to Sella all at once.

“Can you defeat Knight Schure?”

“Yes.”

Ilia answered simply to Sella’s question.

Defeating Schure was akin to plucking weeds from the roadside.

“Then, bring me his head.”

“Understood.”

Ilia nodded and leaped over the ramparts, landing on the ground.

Thump!

Despite the considerable height, Ilia landed gracefully and began to walk towards Schure.

Schure, on the other hand, frowned at the fact that his opponent had emerged without even mounting a warhorse.

“Who are you? You should know that this is no place for mere rabble to step forward.”

“I am Ilia.”

“Ilia? Are you perhaps Ilia of the Frost Mercenary Group?”

“Yes.”

“Ha!”

Schure’s lips curled into a sneer as he began to draw his sword.

“So, you’re the evil spirit I’ve heard so much about? I’ve heard of your infamy. But unfortunately for you, it ends today, now that you’ve met me.”

“…”

“Ah! I heard a rumor that you defeated the Red Knights. But unfortunately, I don’t believe such rumors. Just a mercenary group…”

“When are you planning to start?”

Ilia interrupted Schure, who was speaking with his arms crossed.

“What?”

“Did you need someone to talk to instead of someone to fight with?”

“You insolent!”

Schure bared his teeth, pointing his sword at Ilia.

“Draw your sword.”

At Schure’s command, Ilia nodded.

“Is it starting now?”

“Yes! So, draw your sword!”

“Alright.”

At the opponent’s words, Ilia took a stance, and then the sword flashed, severing the front legs of the warhorse Schure was riding.

“Wh-what?”

The warhorse, having lost its legs, plunged headfirst into the ground. Schure hurriedly jumped off the warhorse and glared at Ilia.

“You coward!”

“Coward? I believe you said it yourself.”

“Said what?”

“That it started.”

Schure gritted his teeth, gathering mana at Ilia’s mocking smile.

“I’ll kill you.”

And those soon became the last words he uttered in this world.

The shattered mana adorned the air like shards of glass. And Schure’s head, which floated through it, wore a bewildered expression.

Thud!

Afterward, Ilia, who shook off the blood splattered by swinging her sword as if scattering paint, began to return to the fortress without a word.

“Waaaah!”

“Commander Ilia won!”

The cheers erupted belatedly. The allied soldiers began to bang on the ramparts with their respective weapons, expressing their enthusiasm.

“Go back to your rat holes! You rootless Basarak lackeys!”

“Is that the best you could come up with!”

The opponent’s morale was broken. To compensate, they would need to send out a new knight and reclaim victory.

But at best, it would be difficult to find a knight to replace Schure among the minor nobles who only followed Basarak.

Then there were only a few options left.

Either retreat and plan for the future, or attack even if it meant forcing it.

Of course, the answer was already determined. If they retreated now after a successful surprise attack, it would be even harder to break through next time.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The sound of drums began to echo from the army of Baron Beox, the enemy. It was the signal to attack. At that, shouts also echoed from the allied fortress.

“Everyone, charge!”

“Everyone, prepare for battle!”

The shouts of opposing purposes intersected, and so a fierce battle began.

* * *

An army of over 1,500 was not a force to be taken lightly. Even based on modern organizational standards, it could be considered a regiment-level force.

Moreover, if you consider that all of them were regular soldiers trained for war, not conscripts forcibly dragged from their daily lives, it was even more significant.

‘This might be harder than I thought.’

Baron Beox’s army halted their advance at a certain distance from the fortress.

Subsequently, the infantry, aligned in the front row, lowered their shields momentarily, and behind them, the archer unit, rising like a shadow, aimed at the fortress with their bowstrings drawn.

“Everyone, duck down!”

At Mason’s shout, the fortress defenders took cover behind the ramparts.

Then, a barrage of countless arrows rained down. Fortunately, there was no major damage because the response was swift. The arrows that poured down only struck the ramparts and the buildings inside the fortress.

However, the enemy did not relent in their arrow fire. Keep your heads down, or you’ll die the moment you raise them. It was an attack that demonstrated such determination.

And the implication was clear.

“Ladders!”

“Form teams and provide shield cover! We need to get rid of the ladders first!”

The infantry, carrying long ladders in teams, quickly approached the ramparts.

‘Are they trying to end this quickly?’

Attacking with only ladders without siege rams was an inefficient tactic that inflicted heavy casualties on the attacking side.

However, that was only the case when attacking a citadel with deep and wide moats and high, sturdy watchtowers.

Unfortunately, this place was just an outpost that lacked all the aforementioned advantages.

Still, Mason’s response was relatively swift. Soldiers with axes were deployed to neutralize the enemy archers providing shield cover and to break the ladders being placed.

“Kuh-uk…”

“My leg! My leg!”

Those who fell with the ladders that were smashed by the descending axes had their heads crushed or their legs fractured.

The areas where the ladders were successfully placed also struggled to climb over the ramparts due to the staunch defense. At first glance, it seemed like they were holding them off easily.

But that would only last for so long.

“Kuaaaak!”

“A knight! It’s a knight!”

The shield covered with steel was split in half as if a piece of paper was being cut. Afterward, a figure radiating mana broke through the gap that was created.

There was no need to see. It was the intrusion of a knight who had been hiding among the soldiers.

‘A war weapon that defies common sense.’

It was the moment when the reason why all the lords of the Midlands poured their heart and soul into nurturing and recruiting knights rather than raising armies became clear.

No matter how thick the shield, and no matter how well-trained the soldiers, everything was useless in front of that rising aura.

I suddenly had a thought. If Ilia and I hadn’t stepped forward, what would those thirty berserkers [elite warriors known for their frenzied fighting style] have looked like in the war?

“Commander Ilia!”

At Sella’s call, Ilia turned around.

“Yes.”

“We need to deal with the enemy knight. I need Ilia’s help.”

Sella seemed to have seen the same thing as me.

She probably realized that the enemy knight had to be dealt with in order to protect the fortress.

However, Ilia did not move despite Sella’s request.

“I have been tasked with protecting Lady Sella.”

“Yes? But you just dealt with Knight Schure.”

“That was because I judged that it would not be a problem to leave my post temporarily.”

“…Isn’t protecting the fortress the same as protecting me?”

“Even if that’s the case, a mission is a mission. So, I cannot leave your side.”

Sella, who changed her target due to Ilia’s firm refusal, rushed towards me in one breath.

“You have to help!”

“Looks like it.”

“But Commander Ilia only follows the Count’s orders.”

“I guess so.”

“…You’re not telling me to just stand by and watch, are you?”

“Well, what should we do?”

Sella slowly nodded at my evasive answer.

“Okay. I guess I have to judge this for myself too.”

Swish!

Afterward, Sella turned her body and began to run towards the place where the enemy knight had intruded, drawing her sword.

Ilia, embarrassed by the sight, looked at me.

“Young Master?”

“What are you doing? You have to be faithful to your mission.”

Leave it alone, but protect it from danger.

Whether she remembered what I said, Ilia bit her lip and immediately began to follow Sella.

Watching Sella’s back as she jumped into the middle of the battlefield where blood and flesh were splattering, I nodded.

‘She’s definitely quick to adapt.’