The Vale, Gulltown—night was about to fall.
In the largest square near Gulltown's harbor, bonfires were lit earlier than usual.
Many singers gathered here, performing together a song with an unfamiliar melody. The scale of the chorus was unprecedented; the rippling voices nearly covered the entire harbor area, and the crowd drawn by the singing kept growing.
Some people began asking about the name of the unfamiliar song. They learned it was called Listening to the Whispers of the Crypts, said to have come from the Crackclaw Peninsula across the southern strait.
As the night deepened, the crowd finally began to disperse, still unsatisfied, yet the song seemed to linger in their ears.
Suddenly, waves of startled cries erupted among the people.
To the west of Gulltown, a raging fire shot into the sky, staining half the heavens red.
The next day, everyone in Gulltown learned that it was the manor of the merchant Woshor Meika that had caught fire—astonishingly, not a single person in the entire estate survived.
–
"Roar! Roar! Roar!"
"Roar! Roar! Roar!"
"Roar! Roar! Roar!"
Shouting in unison, the wildlings, under the command of House Brune of Dyre Den, began to advance slowly toward Glyn's army.
At a distance of 200 yards, Glyn drew his bow and loosed an arrow. With a sharp whistle, a knight toppled from his saddle.
Emparo urged her horse back and forth in front of the line, shouting, "Hold steady! Hold steady! Await the order!"
Glyn released a second arrow. Another knight slammed to the ground, swallowed by the advancing formation.
After Glyn had consecutively shot down five knights, the enemy cavalry dismounted outright, leading their horses and merging into the ranks.
When Glyn shot down the standard-bearer holding the banner of House Brune, he gave Emparo a slight nod.
"Fall back!"
"Fall back!"
"Fall back!"
Emparo carried out the order. Led by the Crabb warriors, the "soldiers" turned as one and retreated—their direction, naturally, was the entrance to Crescent Valley.
The movement on Glyn's side immediately caught the enemy's attention, and they quickened their advance.
Everything was unfolding according to Glyn's carefully laid plan.
Just as Glyn was about to spur his mount and join the "retreating" ranks, a small accident occurred.
A rotund figure, round as a ball of flesh, suddenly charged onto the battlefield, bracing a round shield and raising a warhammer high, sprinting straight toward the forces of House Brune and the wildlings.
The enemy realized that Glyn and his men were trying to flee, and in their eagerness to pursue, their formation fell completely into chaos.
The charging "meatball" quickly crashed into the fastest-moving portion of the enemy.
With his bloated body, he slammed into them shield-first, sending two men flying. The raised warhammer came down in the same motion, smashing the skull of the nearest wildling.
He did not pause. The meatball swung the hammer again, brutally prying open another wildling's head.
Contrary to his massive size, the meatball was extremely agile. His shield blocked every attack, while his warhammer effortlessly crushed one skull after another.
Possessing an almost beast-like instinct, after cutting down several enemies he sensed something was wrong. During a brief lull in the fighting, he glanced toward where Glyn had been.
Where did everyone go?
Why is there only one knight left?
I could've sworn there was a whole crowd. Did I remember wrong?
At last, panic crept in. No matter how fierce he was, he couldn't kill them all. The meatball began to withdraw deliberately.
Glyn temporarily judged that the unfamiliar powerhouse who had suddenly joined the battle was an ally, not an enemy.
He urged his horse forward, firing rapidly while moving. The wildlings around the stranger dropped one after another.
Glyn fixed his eyes on a knight galloping toward the stranger and loosed an arrow, shooting him off his horse. He shouted, "Mount up!"
Hearing Glyn's voice, the powerhouse charged shield-first, knocking enemies aside, then ran to the now riderless warhorse. His massive body sprang up with surprising agility.
Glyn continued firing to cover him.
Urging his horse closer, the powerhouse spoke in a simple, honest tone, "Lord Glyn, your reputation travels far. I came because I admire—uh… uh… I forgot my lines!"
"I heard about the call to arms in the old Crabb lands. I've long hoped to serve you, but I'm a bastard, so I didn't dare come to you directly."
"I found out where the battlefield was, and I wanted to show my worth first, so I could earn your favor!"
Was this some wandering warrior offering his loyalty?
As Glyn backed his horse away, he called out, "Stranger, tell me your name!"
"Oh! Oh! Sorry, sorry—my name is Mandon Waters."
As the horse ran, Mandon Waters's belly, round like a giant watermelon, jiggled up and down as if water were sloshing inside.
The corner of Glyn's mouth lifted slightly. "Welcome, my warrior!"
Hearing Glyn's acceptance, Mandon Waters's honest voice even carried a hint of tears. "You're too kind. I thank you sincerely. I swear I'll fight for you forever—uh… uh… I forgot again. I—I—I'll try to eat a bit less?!"
"My warrior, you'll eat your fill. Eat as much as you like!"
Mandon Waters turned his head to look at Glyn's profile and froze.
Coming back to himself, he lifted his head slightly. Beneath his firm gaze, a simple smile spread across his face. What a fine day today!
The debut of Lord Glyn's first adorable general: Mandon Waters
–
As they noticed more and more weapons and armor discarded on the ground by the Crabb soldiers, the Brune forces and the wildlings shouted and cursed, surging into Crescent Valley.
But once all the enemies had entered the valley, what met them were ferocious fires suddenly erupting both ahead and behind.
Surrounded by merciless flames, screams and wails seemed ready to burst out of Crescent Valley itself.
Although Glyn had made every effort to prepare, time had been too short, and the heavy rains of the previous days weakened the blaze.
Even so, more than three thousand men were left in Crescent Valley forever.
The remaining enemies finally struggled out of the valley, utterly exhausted, and most of them became Glyn's prisoners.
–
Five days later, near Dyre Den.
"Holy—!"
On horseback, Glyn stared into the distance at Dyre Den, which seemed to rise straight into the clouds, and was left speechless for a long while.
(End of Chapter)