Chapter 33

Preparation (2)

“I’ll do it.”

Besimer said.
At the murderous aura he displayed, the soldiers’ attention focused on him.

“Then, you know what to do, right?”
“I know.”

At the lowered question, Besimer nodded.

“Then, proceed.”

The moment Isaac finished speaking.

Whoo—

Besimer swung his axe in a wide arc.

Clang!

To anyone watching, the axe was clearly aimed at Isaac.
With enough force to split even Carlson, who stood in the way.

“What are you doing!?”

Carlson, who had drawn his sword and blocked Besimer’s strike, roared.
The act Isaac had ordered had begun.
It was the failed revenge play of a Baitur great warrior.

“Revenge for my fallen kin.”

Besimer, expressionless, swung his axe again.
Kagak!

Even to Isaac—and to the soldiers watching—the clash between blade and axe was too fast to follow.
Sparks flew, and metal screamed in agony.

The actors’ performance was flawless.
Besimer poured out relentless blows while Carlson steadily defended.

Starting from the tips of his feet, the motion flowed through his calves, thighs, waist, shoulders, and arms in perfect coordination.
Despite his massive build, Besimer was flexible.
He twisted his body around his waist to generate maximum rotational force.

Normally, after a single strike, one would reset their stance to prepare for a counterattack or the next blow.
But Besimer’s attacks—
the endpoint of one strike became the starting point of the next.
From his toes to the axe in his hand, his body moved like a single whip.
Every attack connected naturally, like flowing water.

It was different from the emotionally driven assault he had shown in his duel with Isaac.
This was a method of attack that maximized efficiency to kill the opponent.
He wasn’t simply relying on his size and strength.
It was the seasoned combat technique of someone who knew how to use their body.

However, the soldiers couldn’t gauge how powerful Besimer’s attacks truly were.
Because Carlson blocked them all far too easily.

The terrifying sound of air splitting with each swing of the axe, and the thunderous clang of metal colliding.
Yet Carlson’s expression did not waver—no fear, no tension.
Minimal movement.
An unshakable, stable stance.
To an observer, it might have seemed as though he had trained with Besimer for years.
He accepted each death-like strike as if it were nothing.
Like a rock standing before a storm.

A fight that should never have happened was unfolding.
Yet not a single soldier dared to intervene.
They were overwhelmed by the battle between two monsters that could tear a body apart with a single mistake.
Each time the blades sliced through the air, the chilling sound sent shivers down their spines.

The fight did not last long.
Besimer, throwing his entire body into every attack, eventually failed to break through Carlson’s defense and lost his rhythm.
Even his seemingly endless chain of strikes showed a gap.
Seizing the moment, Carlson kicked Besimer behind the knee.

With his strength gone, Besimer’s balance collapsed.
As he dropped to one knee, Carlson’s blade stopped right before his neck.

“Stop!”

Isaac shouted.

“What kind of revenge do you think you’re carrying out, Besimer of the Baitur?”
“You asking because you don’t know? Or pretending not to know? After slaughtering my people like that, did you think the little lord’s neck would stay attached?”
“You do realize this act is treason, soldier.”

At Besimer’s reply, Isaac’s expression hardened.

“Don’t spout nonsense! This isn’t treason—it’s revenge for a friend’s brother’s family.”

Besimer glared fiercely at Isaac.

“Carlson.”
“Yes.”
“It’s a military order. Execute me. Then execute Besimer. Tie him to a pillar and don’t give him a single drop of water.”
“Understood.”
“Oh, and… make sure he’s half-dead so he can’t pull anything.”
“Yes.”

As soon as Carlson answered, he reversed his grip on the sword.
He swung the hilt like a blunt weapon and struck Besimer.
With a dull thud, Besimer collapsed face-first.
Carlson’s beating continued.

“Move.”

Pushing through the startled soldiers, Isaac walked toward his tent.
For a twelve-year-old, his expression was far too cold and severe.
But no one dared to object.

***

Two days passed, and as always, darkness fell.

“Damn it, seriously… there’s no devil worse than that.”

The two soldiers standing watch on the watchtower cursed repeatedly.

“What if the captain really dies like this?”
“We’ve got to do something before that.”
“Are you crazy? You’re suggesting disobeying orders? No matter what, Besimer definitely tried to kill that kid.”
“Fuck, if the captain gets executed, what guarantees we’re not next? Maybe they’re trying to wipe out all of us from the tribes.”
“Why now, after ten quiet years?”
“You know how nobles think. They just eliminate anyone who might threaten their bowl of food in advance. Bastards. In that devil kid’s eyes, we’re worth less than flies…?”
“Shut up. Look over there.”

One soldier covered the other’s mouth.
Below the watchtower, a man and a child holding torches were walking along the wall.
Carlson, newly appointed company commander.
And Isaac, the young lord and commander.

“Hey. Let me ask you something.”

Carlson spoke.

“Y-yes, sir. Please go ahead.”

The soldier replied politely, as if he hadn’t been badmouthing moments ago.

“How many meters is this wall?”
“W-well… I’m not sure. Y-you know?”
“I’m not certain either, but… I think it’s about 4 meters.”
“Is that so? Thanks.”

After hearing the answer, Carlson said something to Isaac, and the two continued walking along the wall.

“Why are those bastards wandering around the wall all day?”
“Damn… I thought my heart was going to drop.”

The two soldiers on the watchtower let out sighs of relief.

“The soldiers are unsettled. Besimer has been a spiritual pillar, someone who shared life and death with them for over ten years.”
“I know.”
“If things go wrong, there’s a possibility of rebellion.”
“I know that too.”
“It’s uncertain whether we can drag this out for four days.”
“Probably.”

Isaac responded half-heartedly to Carlson’s concerns.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”
“That wall. Do you think the hell wolves can jump over it?”
“If they could, the camp would have already fallen.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?”

Me.

The time until Besimer’s execution.
Isaac had deliberately granted that amount of time.

“There’s still a missing piece.”

Through the records he had seen in his previous life, he already knew the general future of Vinfeltro.
However, to defend the camp and deal with the Baitur tribe, there must be no unknown variables.
In particular, the part that puzzled Isaac was how Vinfeltro had fallen.

“Vinfeltro requested reinforcements by carrier pigeon as soon as the hell wolves’ assault began. Father assembled troops and arrived at the camp within two days… but by then, Vinfeltro had already been overrun by the hell wolves.”

“…was the case.”

Isaac stood still, staring up at the wall.
A height the hell wolves could not leap over.
Sharpened logs formed a perimeter around the entire camp.

‘They said the wooden wall was intact. It hadn’t burned either. If it were flimsy, the camp would have fallen to the Baitur long before ten years passed.’

“Carlson, can this be broken?”
“It won’t be easy. I’ve heard they used great trees cut from the Black Forest.”
“What’s different about trees from the Black Forest?”
“Mana allows living things to surpass their natural limits. It’s the same principle behind knights becoming stronger through aura. Trees that survived and grew in the Black Forest would have surpassed their inherent limits using mana.”
“Would they be harder than stone?”
“Comparable, I’d say.”

Isaac tapped the wall.
It gave off nothing but a dull, heavy sound, as if he were knocking on solid rock.

‘Did they dig a tunnel?’

Isaac shook his head.
If a tunnel large enough for those beasts existed, the soldiers would have noticed.

‘The attack happened on a full moon night…’

The biggest reason he had allowed four days to pass.
That was when the moon would be full.
Vinfeltro had also been overrun during a night raid under a full moon.
It wasn’t certain, but if the moon had been recorded, there had to be a reason.

‘If I recreate the same conditions and lure their attack, I might learn something… The moon. Could it be related?’

Isaac blankly stared at the sky.
Fragments of history surfaced in his mind.
The reason the details of Vinfeltro’s history had stuck with him was because there were things that didn’t make sense.
For someone who had been trapped all day in a dark, damp underground space, doubt and curiosity had been his only sources of amusement.

‘The current camp has 118 people. But when Father arrived with reinforcements, he confirmed fewer than 30 corpses. Where did the remaining ninety go?’

If the hell wolves had devoured them, there should have been large amounts of blood, scraps of flesh, or at least skulls left behind.
But according to the records, not a single trace of those ninety bodies had been found.

“The moon is full.”

Carlson said, looking up at the night sky alongside Isaac.

“Yeah. If not tonight, then tomorrow.”
“…Pardon?”

“The timing of their move.”

Isaac had already hinted at this to Carlson and Besimer.

— Virpier said he wants you to become the Wolf King, right?
— That’s right.
— Why?
— Don’t know.
— Either way, he won’t just sit back and watch you get executed.
— That’s for sure.
— No, it is certain. The fact that you tried to kill me means you showed hostility toward Goethe. In other words, it’ll be interpreted as you siding with the Baitur.
— Will Virpier fall for that?
— Even if he suspects a trap, he won’t have a choice. From what I can tell, the Baitur need you.
— Will the Wolf King come?
— If he still considers you his son, he’ll come on his own even if Virpier doesn’t ask.
— …So you’re telling me to strike my father in the back when he comes to save me.

If the Wolf King was eliminated, the hell wolves would become nothing more than beasts.
Without that core force, the Baitur would no longer pose a threat to Vinfeltro.

Now, the remaining question was how they would attack.
And how to detect the signs of their impending assault.

“Why do you think they’ll move tonight or tomorrow?”

Carlson asked.

“Because of that.”

Isaac pointed at the moon.

“That’s the reason?”
“Just a feeling.”

Carlson tilted his head.

“My lord.”

As Isaac finished inspecting the wall and was about to return to his tent, Gunter cautiously called out to him.

“Mm?”

“Well…”

“What is it?”
“You told us not to overlook even the smallest sign.”
“I did.”
“Could you spare a moment?”
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing major, but… I think you should see it.”

Gunter scratched the back of his head, avoiding Isaac’s gaze.
He didn’t seem certain whether it was worth reporting.

“Lead the way.”

As Isaac moved, Carlson scratched his rough chin and followed reluctantly.
He had been about to have a drink and rest.

“So, what is it?”

The place Gunter led them to was the food distribution table in front of the supply warehouse.

“O-oh, you’re here.”

Two cooks stood there, their expressions uneasy.

“I saw it. Those guys put this into the barrel.”

Gunter handed Isaac an empty leather pouch.

“What is this?”
“It’s nothing much. Sometimes it’s added to enhance the taste of beer… I guess Gunter found it suspicious.”
“S-sorry for causing concern. I didn’t mean to create unnecessary misunderstanding.”

The two cooks’ eyes darted nervously.

“So, what is it?”

Isaac brought the mouth of the pouch to his nose and sniffed.
A foul stench immediately made him frown.
It smelled like rotting meat mixed with something burnt and pungent.

“I-it’s a mixture of animal blood and spices. It’s said to have a tonic effect when drunk with alcohol—a folk remedy.”
“Then why did you panic the moment I saw it?”
“Well, you were pressing us. And the atmosphere isn’t exactly good right now…”

One of the cooks gave a weak excuse in response to Gunter’s question.

“May I smell it?”

Carlson asked.

“You can tell just by smelling?”
“I may not know everything, but I’m quite familiar with the smell of blood.”

Carlson took the pouch from Isaac and sniffed it.
His expression gradually hardened.
Isaac assumed it was because of the foul smell.
But it wasn’t.

“This is bad.”
“Of course it is. It reeks.”
“This… is the blood of a hell wolf.”
“…?”

A question appeared on Isaac’s face.

“Why would they put hell wolf blood in it?”

The two cooks turned deathly pale.
Their four eyes darted quickly between Isaac and Carlson.

“W-waaah!”

One of the cooks suddenly pulled out a dagger and lunged at Isaac.