Cherreads

Chapter 7 - Chapter: 7

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Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 7

Chapter Title: Black-Haired Knight King 7

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The camp was quiet.

There wasn't a single sign of movement.

After scanning the surroundings for a good while, I pulled out the torch that had been stuck into the ground near the hut.

I pushed open the flimsy hut door and shone the light inside.

"..."

The floor was soaked in dried blood.

Torture marks were plainly visible throughout the hut, alongside crude blades.

And right in the middle of that gruesome scene was a familiar face, bound up tight.

"Red Iron."

It had been a year since the last candidate died.

But that year had passed like water cascading down a waterfall.

His white hair had grown even more abundant, and his face looked utterly haggard.

The burly muscles that had once defined him had shrunk considerably, and the fiery spirit he'd always carried was now a pathetic shadow.

Both Red Iron and I were getting on in years.

"B-Broken Sword...? Is that you?"

I removed his blindfold.

Recognizing me at once, Red Iron let out a weary, hollow laugh.

Fortunately, all his limbs were still attached, but the petty tortures had left him too battered to stand on his own.

With no other choice, I tried to help the twice-as-massive Red Iron out of the hut.

"W-Wait."

"What."

"Save the others who are captured too."

Red Iron was the type to grumble but always lend a hand to fellow Northerners.

But he wasn't the sort to put others before his own safety like this.

His hideout had been compromised within the year, and the mountain folk inside his base had been taken prisoner.

Didn't it all seem connected somehow?

With a hunch, I asked,

"You don't mean..."

"...My wife's been taken."

I was stunned.

That deadbeat Red Iron had a wife!

No, a guy at least ten years older than me getting married now of all times!

For a moment, I stared at him in disbelief, but he desperately averted his eyes, trying to dodge the situation.

"Please."

A sigh escaped me unbidden.

Part of me wanted to drag him out by force, but his voice carried a gravity I'd never heard before.

From the looks of it, he wouldn't budge unless I saved his wife.

"...Fine."

The smart play would be to unlock the prison bars, slip out quietly with Red Iron.

But with his wife among the captive mountain folk, I had no choice but to go with the riskier option: escape with everyone.

As I sighed and agreed, Red Iron insisted he could move on his own and struggled to his feet.

I checked my dagger and the king's sword, then opened the hut door and stepped outside.

"..."

The camp was still deathly quiet.

But if every prisoner in that cage came pouring out, who knew what would happen.

I sprinted to the bars, praying they'd listen and stay quiet.

"Ah!"

"Shh. How many inside?"

A man who had been nervously peering out lit up with hope as I approached.

But I motioned for silence and tried to gauge how many were in the deep shadows at the back.

"Th-There's about thirty of us."

Thirty. That was a lot.

A flicker of dismay crossed my mind, but I shoved it aside.

Confirming Red Iron stumbling toward me, I told the man,

"I'll get you out. Wake everyone up first. And tell them no noise, whatever they do."

The man nodded frantically at my orders and rushed inside.

Soon, a commotion started up from within, like they'd been half-prepared for this.

"M-My wife?"

"Quiet and step back."

Shing!

Red Iron hurried up and asked me urgently.

But I shoved him aside firmly and drew the king's sword from my belt.

The blade gleamed as it caught the torchlight.

I swung it without hesitation at the bars, slicing through the thick iron like butter.

"...Broken Sword, you've gotten even stronger."

"Just move!"

Instead of wasting time on useless praise, think about getting out fast.

I shoved the admiring Red Iron inside and scanned for escape routes.

Escorting thirty people through the forest on a dark night like this.

Safety aside, stragglers among the mountain folk were almost guaranteed.

I ripped the broken prison entrance clean off and reached in to help people out one by one.

"Th-Thank you..."

"Sniff, sob...!"

People began staggering out of the prison.

But none forgot the plea for silence; they stayed calm, minimizing noise as they formed up in line.

Good. These were mountain folk who'd survived by farming in this brutal world.

Trembling with despair and tears, they panicked a little, but they knew better than anyone what it took to stay alive.

I handed my dagger to Red Iron as he emerged last, supporting his wife.

"Take her and go first."

"...Got it. Be careful."

Red Iron and I had synced up on battlefields for decades.

Now we understood each other's intent from a single word.

Guard the rear. You go ahead.

If I didn't have a line to protect, I could've held off the entire barbarian horde.

I quickly fed more fuel to the torch to brighten it.

Whoosh!

Once the prisoners vanished, those brute barbarians would surely give chase.

At the very least, I needed to torch the camp to break their will halfway.

Rustle, rustle, rustle!

Red Iron, squeezing out his last strength, hoisted his staggering wife onto his back.

Then he hurried off down the retreat path I'd pointed to.

The man who'd taken charge led the mountain folk line, with the black forest swaying in fierce winds behind him.

Suddenly, I worried about the girl left alone, but the razor-edge tension kept my eyes wide open, illuminating the surroundings.

The sound of footsteps on grass, flames crackling. Someone stifling a sob.

Step by step, the line passed, and the balloon of tension swelled with every moment.

It's coming. Someone gulped in panic.

I whipped around toward the noise, dagger at the ready.

"Puo!! Puo da...!"

A barbarian burst from a nearby hut, yelling.

One who'd stepped out to relieve himself had spotted us by chance.

"Oooo!!"

He flew into a rage.

Grabbing a club from the ground, he charged at the mountain folk.

His eyes were wild; he couldn't even grasp who was around or what was happening.

"R-Run!"

"Kyaaah...!"

But the people scattered in terror from just one armed brute.

Before I could act, the fragile line collapsed.

My faint hopes crumbled quietly.

"Tch."

I clicked my tongue softly.

Then hurled my dagger, dropping the charging barbarian with ease.

But the camp was already in uproar from the echoing shouts.

"Puo!! Puo da...!"

"Uooo!"

Barbarians poured from the huts.

At the same time, mountain folk who couldn't flee scattered and got isolated.

No hope like this.

I dashed to Red Iron, who was grappling with one barbarian.

Slash!

A light swing of my sword.

The armed barbarian's head came clean off, and Red Iron looked relieved as he turned to me.

Even protecting these two was getting dicey.

Red Iron seemed to agree, following me with a pained expression.

"S-Spare me!"

"Aaagh...!"

Even for a battle-hardened veteran like me, watching people die right in front of my eyes wasn't exactly fun.

But in this melee without proper armor, there were limits.

Slash...!

Thud! Crack!

I slashed and stabbed the charging barbarians.

Clearing a path for Red Iron to escape, I pressed on.

By the time my bloodied sword started dulling, Red Iron and his wife had pulled back from the melee zone.

"Huff, huff."

My breath came a little harder.

Wiping blood from my face, I saw Red Iron—near his limit—supporting his wife.

But while we were out, most of the mountain folk hadn't escaped the camp.

"Mom! Mooom...!"

"Aaaah!"

I grimaced quietly.

Red Iron's face hardened as he set down his unconscious wife.

A wordless exchange in our locked gazes.

Red Iron picked up a nearby club and said to me,

"...I'll hold the retreat."

"Hold just long enough, then run. Deer and a kid nearby—not far."

Even rotten, a former squire to the Knight King who once commanded men.

Ditching these mountain folk and fleeing would have the dead king smacking my head from beyond the grave.

How many barbarians left?

I drew a deep breath, gripped my sword again—blood shaken off.

Opening my eyes wide, my vision stretched into a long tunnel.

"...!!"

Far more barbarians rose than the prisoner had reported.

Most fleeing mountain folk were dead or recaptured.

But the chaotic melee shifted abruptly with my charge.

Rustle, rustle, rustle, rustle!

Slash...!

"Gack, hack!"

"Quo?! Puo Da?!"

Swordsmanship follows set forms.

How to swing the blade, where to plant your feet.

Even crossguards and armor usage—all must be considered.

But this wasn't combat.

Against barbarians who could only swing clubs and howl, even calling it a fight felt generous.

Slice the throat, stab the heart.

One cut, another—ripping the life from their hides like parasites.

It was dry slaughter, nothing more.

"Hah, hah!"

"This way! Over here!"

The barbarians slunk back.

Space opened around where I'd plunged in, and fleeing mountain folk rushed toward it.

Over half already dead?

I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and flicked blood from my blade into the air.

Then a familiar face staggered up, supporting a mountain folk.

"Knight sir!"

The man from the bars.

Blood on the dagger I'd given him—he'd fought hard to survive.

Some relief there. I glared at the barbarians and told him,

"Get them out!"

Once the ones to protect were gone, I could dance freely with my sword against these scum.

I ordered the one man still thinking straight to lead the remaining twenty or so to safety.

But instead of answering, he pointed frantically behind me—the way I'd come.

"Ov-Over there!!"

The direction I'd come from. Where Red Iron was.

Face paling, I whipped my head around.

"...!!"

Red Iron lay fallen.

And atop him loomed a barbarian twice the size, raising a massive club high.

I'd told him to run if outnumbered, but he'd held his ground and invited death.

Too far to reach running. Throwing my dagger wouldn't match the club's descent.

For an instant, my vision blurred, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Whoosh...!

Thud, thud, thud!

Crunch!

But in that dark moment, a white-horned deer leaped into the space.

It rammed the barbarian about to kill Red Iron with full force.

Time crawled slow.

Red Iron stared in shock.

The barbarian flew off, and the girl huddled tight on the deer straightened up.

Black hair hidden in ragged cloth fluttered like glossy obsidian.

"Master!"

The blacksmith and the candidate.

A dramatic reunion that surprised them both.

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