The Hunter of Hawk and Wolf-Chapter 45 : Chapter 45

Beneath the early evening sky, Sevha's army marched on Garde Castle.
Riding at the vanguard were Sevha on Toto, Eshu, and the Blanc Knights.
Behind them followed the conscripts led by Teresse.
Farther back, Tataka and the Broken Tusk Tribe kept pace.
Sevha glanced over his shoulder. The tension on the conscripts' faces was plain to see.
I have no complaints about Teresse's training… but their lack of experience is a fatal flaw.
Teresse had drilled them well, shaping them into the 'iron net' Sevha had wanted.
But conscripts were still conscripts. He doubted they could hold their nerve while watching their comrades fall.
Coordination with the Tusk Tribe will be poor. In the end, our main force is the Blanc Knights.
Just as Sevha was picturing how the battle would unfold, the sound of hooves reached him. It was Legra and the scouts, riding hard.
The moment Legra reined in, Sevha called out a jest.
“You learned to ride so fast, I'm starting to think you were born in one of their villages.”
But Legra ignored it, his tone making it clear this was no time for jokes.
He cried, “It's a disaster! The Count's army was routed by the Carved Tusk Tribe! They're sacking Garde Castle!”
A flood of questions filled Sevha's mind.
Why, when the difference in numbers was so great?
How did the Carved Tusk Tribe get inside the castle?
How far were they from the walls?
While Sevha tried to piece the situation together, Teresse’s mind was already made up.
She said, “Sevha! We surround the castle at once and—!”
Eshu cut across her, bellowing, “Blanc Knights! To Garde Castle! To the rescue!”
A cry that was neither Sevha's command nor Teresse's proposal.
The Blanc Knights let out a single war cry and charged.
“Eshu, stop!”
“Sevha! Go after them! They don't know what they're walking into if they enter that castle blind!”
“I know!”
Thrown by Eshu’s reckless charge, Sevha immediately yelled to Legra and Tataka.
“Legra! Tataka! We ride for the castle!”
Sevha, Legra, Tataka, and the Broken Tusk Tribe galloped after the knights, the sound of their horses and werewolves a thunder on the plains. Just as swiftly, the early evening gave way to a moonlit night.
By the time the moon had risen, Sevha's party reached the hills overlooking Garde Castle, having failed to overtake the Blanc Knights.
“What happened here…?”
Between the castle and the forest, the meadow was littered with the corpses of the Count's army. The Carved Tusk Tribe was burning and looting the castle town.
And the Blanc Knights were charging straight into the heart of it.
Too late to stop them.
Sevha took in the scene and said, “Tataka. If the Broken Tusk Tribe enters the town, it will be chaos, won't it?”
“Aye. The townspeople won't be able to tell us from the Carved Tusk.”
“Still, it has to be done. Rescue and calm anyone fleeing the town. Then, enter and save those who couldn't escape.”
“Understood. It would help if the people we save spread the word that we're here to help.”
As soon as Tataka replied, Sevha and Legra rode for Garde Castle.
The moment they entered the town, the stench of fire and blood stung his nostrils. The screams of the people filled his ears.
Sevha's face tightened. The smell and the screams had stirred a memory.
This is no time to get lost in the past,
he thought, trying to focus.
But the effort had the opposite effect.
The stench of fire and blood grew thicker, the screams louder.
…ge.
The scent of a past inferno intensified, joined by screams that must never be forgotten.
…eance.
It was inevitable. To focus was to stare harder and harder at the target.
Vengeance.
And at the center of Sevha’s focus, a single word, born of that memory, took shape.
“Lord Sevha!” Legra screamed, snapping Sevha back to his senses.
Just then, a member of the Carved Tusk Tribe on a werewolf raced past, holding a rope. At the end of it, a townsperson was being dragged through the dirt.
“That—!”
Before Legra could say more, an arrow pierced the tribesman's neck, and he tumbled to the ground.
Legra glanced aside to see Sevha, bow already in hand.
Sevha approached the fallen tribesman. He was still alive, choking and gurgling.
Sevha looked down at him for a moment, then pulled on Toto's reins.
The beast brought its hoof down, mercilessly crushing the man's head.
“L-Lord Sevha? Are you all right?”
Legra cautiously studied Sevha's face. His expression was utterly cold.
As Legra swallowed hard, Sevha slowly closed his eyes for a moment.
“I'm fine.”
Immediately, Sevha bellowed to the knights fighting nearby. “Blanc Knights! Where is Eshu!”
A knight flinched at his roar and answered, “He ordered half of us to evacuate the townspeople and went to the castle with the rest!”
Sevha knew the Blanc Knights had waded into a swamp far deeper than they realized.
It's too late to pull back unscathed. If something happens to the knights, the entire plan falls apart.
Knowing a retreat was impossible, Sevha made his decision.
“Legra! To the castle! We’re going after Eshu!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Blanc Knights! Evacuate the people! When the Broken Tusk Tribe arrives, secure the main road!”
Sevha and Legra raced up the hill toward Garde Castle. At the top, a wooden wall and a shattered gate came into view.
No battering ram… so how did they break it?
Sevha entered the castle courtyard. There, the Blanc Knights and the Carved Tusk Tribe were locked in a fierce battle.
“Eshu!” Sevha cried out.
A knight yelled back, “He went inside to save the lord!”
Sevha and Legra spurred their mounts to the castle entrance. Reaching the broken doorway, they dismounted and ran inside.
The main hall was strewn with the bodies of tribesmen and Garde soldiers. Trampling over the dead, the Carved Tusk Tribe and the Blanc Knights fought on.
The trail of bodies led toward a corridor at the far end of the hall. Sevha knew at once where Eshu had gone.
“Legra. We're breaking through.”
“Yes, Lord Sevha.”
Sevha drew his handaxe and ran.
He buried the axe in the head of a tribesman blocking his path.
As the man fell, another appeared, attempting to spear him.
But Legra was faster, planting an arrow in the tribesman's face.
Sevha shoved the body aside and threw his handaxe at another beyond him.
The tribesman collapsed backward, the axe embedded in his chest.
Legra rushed forward, pulled the axe free, and hacked at the leg of a nearby Tusk.
As the tribesman fell, Legra tossed the axe into the air.
Sevha, already surging forward, caught it and brought it down on the fallen man's face.
Moving as one, they broke through the corridor and arrived at the Lord's Hall.
“My lady! You must stay right behind me!”
“Y-yes, I understand!”
Eshu stood protectively before a young woman.
And at the end of their gaze stood Achuk, clad in armor of wolf pelts. In one hand, he held a greatsword. In the other, the head of an old man.
The moment Achuk saw Sevha, his mouth split into a wide grin.
“You. Insult. Remember.”
Achuk's Continental, with its ruined accent and pronunciation, sounded like the unsettling, guttural growl of a beast.
“Young Master! Why are you—!”
“That's my question for you, you damn fool!”
Sevha's retort was as sharp as his fury at Eshu's insubordination.
But he immediately reined in his anger.
“…The situation?”
“The head he’s holding… it's the Viscount of Garde. He's dead.”
“And the woman?”
“His daughter.”
“Legra. Protect the Viscount's daughter. Eshu.”
“Yes.”
“We kill that bastard.”
Legra moved at once to stand guard over the young woman. Sevha gripped his handaxe, Eshu his sword and shield, and they advanced on Achuk.
As they approached, Achuk's grin widened. “Slaughter.”
He swung the greatsword in a wide arc.
“Eshu!”
“Understood!”
Eshu blocked the greatsword with his shield. In that instant, Sevha swung his handaxe.
Achuk stepped back, dodging the blow. Eshu then let out a cry and slammed his shield into Achuk.
The big tribesman's stance broke, and Sevha swung again. Unable to right himself, Achuk rolled to the side, but the handaxe still tore a shallow gash across his shoulder.
“Don't give him a moment's rest!”
Eshu blocked, Sevha attacked. Under their combined assault, Achuk took wound after wound, slowly giving ground.
Finally, covered in his own blood, he was driven back to the hall's terrace.
“We've cornered him!”
“Finish it!”
Just as Sevha and Eshu resolved to end it, Achuk spoke.
“Moon.”
His head snapped back like a broken scarecrow's as he stared at the sky. Then his mouth stretched wider, wider, and wider still, and he spoke in the Grassland Tongue.
Princess of the Moon. Your crimson-stained form is more beautiful than any other.
And then—Achuk let out a roar so loud it seemed to shake the hall, the castle, the very town itself.
When he lowered his head, his eyes were stained crimson, as if he had gazed upon a blood-red moon.
The sight of those eyes sent a tremor through Sevha's entire body. The moment he recognized the sensation as fear, Achuk charged. He swung the greatsword with one hand as if it were a light whip.
Eshu blocked the blade with his shield as before.
“What?!”
He was sent flying backward, slamming into the far wall.
As Eshu coughed and struggled to his feet, Achuk brought the greatsword down on Sevha.
Sevha dodged. The blade struck the floor.
CRUNCH!
The flagstones shattered. Shards of stone flew past Sevha's face.
Achuk roared, swinging the greatsword wildly in a chaotic, artless assault. Sevha dodged with ease, but the sheer force of the wind from the blade stung his skin.
He knew at once: Achuk's strength was now beyond reason. There was nothing to do but accept it.
“Run!”
There was no way to win this.
Eshu swept up the Viscount's daughter, and they all fled the hall.
Then came Achuk's roar from behind them. When it faded, there was no sound of footsteps, only of splintering wood.
Sevha glanced back to see Achuk in pursuit, dragging his greatsword, tearing up the floor as he came.
The distance between them was closing.
The moment they reached the main hall, Sevha shouted to the knights still fighting there.
“Swarm him!”
Four knights rushed the charging Achuk, their swords flashing.
Achuk did not dodge. He simply swung his greatsword.
The waists of all four knights were torn open in a single blow. Four armored men, ripped apart in an instant.
Sevha, Eshu, all the knights—they could only stare, stunned.
Drenched in blood, Achuk laughed and surveyed his surroundings. Then, seeing his fallen tribesmen, he roared.
In the next moment, the fallen and dying Tusk tribesmen rose to their feet. They rose, their mouths splitting into grins, and roared as one.
“Now I understand why they call the Great Plains a demonic realm, even without monsters,” Sevha muttered, watching the half-dead rise, grinning and roaring.
“Creatures worse than monsters roam those lands.”