How a Second Life Knight Lives - Chapter 47



47. Another Connection from the Past.

This is not an era with asphalt-paved roads.

Nor is it easy to find Roman-style paved roads.

So the path around the outskirts of the territory was a dirt road, commonly seen everywhere.

The traces of about ten wagons moving together were clearly left on that dirt road.

And a skilled tracker can glean various pieces of information from such remaining traces.

In Noren’s mercenary band, there was a sergeant who was quite skilled in tracking, having been a hunter.

He went ahead for a while and then returned to Noren.

“Judging by the wheel tracks, it seems they moved with food loaded on the wagons, but the problem is that there are quite a few refugees moving with them. There are also quite a few traces that seem to belong to women and children.”

“They might be from the same village. Moreover, it looks like they are setting up a home in the mountains. This is troublesome.”

Noren grumbled, showing clear signs of displeasure at the sergeant’s report.

“Is it a problem, Sir Noren?”

“If it’s a group of refugees, they would scatter quickly if things turn unfavorable, but if they are from the same village, they won’t run away easily. City folks might not realize it, but being from the same village is almost like being family. There might be a lot of bloodshed. Are you okay with that?”

“They stopped being refugees the moment they looted the caravan. You know that much, right?”

The mercenary captain Noren smiled broadly, as if reassured by my words.

And he explained why he asked if I was okay.

“Sometimes, there are noblemen with great compassion who feel too sorry for the wandering refugees. Besides, the Count of Kalmar has been spared from the chaos within the empire so far.”

“Was there still such a compassionate nobleman left? Maybe a few years ago, but now they must be extinct. And the Count of Kalmar is different from what it seems. It’s quite tough here too. Sir Noren will realize that after staying here for a while.”

When Mercenary Captain Noren realized that he didn’t have to be cautious when subjugating the bandits, he set his basic plan to encircle and annihilate them, rather than pursuing and persuading them to surrender.

It wasn’t long after Noren’s mercenary group tracked the plundered carriages that they found the abandoned carriages.

Of course, there was no food left in the carriages, and they had even taken apart some parts of the carriages.

The traces of the plunderers now led up the mountain along the mountain path.

Because Mercenary Captain Noren changed his initial plan, he gave up following the mountain path where the traces of the plunderers remained.

Instead, he put someone familiar with the geography of this area, recruited from Kalmar City, at the forefront and found a new guide from a nearby village.

Following his advice, they selected a place where the plunderers might have settled and sent out scouts with the guide.

The idea was to find the place where the plunderers had settled and then launch an attack.

I agreed with his new plan.

The guide and two sergeants who had entered the mountain as scouts returned after a day.

*

Basumus was happy.

Baking pancakes made from well-ground wheat,

Even though they were pancakes without any filling, his siblings were huddled together and eating them deliciously,

The fact that screams and cries were no longer heard,

All of it made him happy.

It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in the past three months.

However, he also knew that this happiness wouldn’t last long.

The food that the people here were eating wasn’t theirs.

“Masumus.”

“Yes. Brother.”

Basumus answered awkwardly, watching the person who called him.

Playing the fool.

This was how he had survived the past three months.

The smart ones, the brave ones were the first to die.

The village chief, the militia captain, the adults, the older brothers.

Those who tried to do something, those who had to take the lead, were the first to die.

So he became a fool.

He had younger siblings to take care of.

“Follow me. There’s something to carry.”

“Let me feed the kids first. Yes.”

“Hey, I’m busy. Just come!”

“Damn it!”

Basumus grimaced fiercely and stood up with his fists clenched.

“Hey, hey! Alright. Feed all the kids and come. Damn it. If only you could understand properly, things would be much better. If only this fool wasn’t so strong.”

Only then did Basumus sit down with a foolish smile.

Being a fool alone is not enough to survive.

There are many people who would take advantage of a fool.

It was necessary to show a wildly violent side when something bothered him.

Especially when it came to matters related to his siblings.

It was the same when he first joined their group.

When he beat to death the guy who approached his siblings, the treatment changed.

Until then, he was just a worker, but after that, he was treated as one of their own.

The group Basumus joined was a defeated mercenary band.

At first, most of the officers, including the mercenary leader, were killed, and the surviving mercenaries became the core.

They had nothing left but the weapons in their hands.

So, naturally, they turned into a band of thieves.

They plundered refugees and attacked villages that still had some form left, growing in size.

Half of those who grew in size were thieves, and the other half were the thieves’ families.

Having completely turned into a band of thieves, they moved to avoid the battles in the Aalborg region and followed the rumors of the prosperity of Kalmar city.

Just as other refugees followed the rumors to the Count of Kalmar,

the band of thieves also followed the rumors to the Count of Kalmar.

And they soon realized that the rumors were not exaggerated.

They saw carts and wagons full of food moving in a state that was almost defenseless.

So they attacked.

How could they not attack!

When the sacks of flour and food were passing right in front of their eyes!

But after the looting spree ended, everyone came to their senses.

This was not the war-torn region of Aalborg.

It was obvious that the count in the city of Kalmar would be furious and send an army.

So they decided to flee to the mountains.

Of course, being in such a desperate situation, they even stripped the dead of their underwear and took everything with them to the mountains.

The leaders of the bandit gang decided to become mountain bandits and looked for a suitable place to hide.

The result was the place where Basmus and the group of refugees were now gathered.

After feeding his younger siblings, Basmus went to the bandits who had called him.

Basmus was a good worker for those who wanted to build a mountain stronghold.

“We’re going to build a palisade from here to here, but oh, this guy doesn’t understand such words. Hey. These rocks here, yes. These. Carry them and pile them up here. Once they’re all piled up, this, it’s a sack of flour. I’ll give you this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Some time after Basmus and some of the refugees had started working, screams were heard.

It was a sound that should not be heard here.

Basmus dropped the stone he was carrying and crouched down, looking around.

Thwack! Thwack!

Arrows flew.

The bandits who had rushed out with weapons were hit by arrows and fell.

“What were the guards doing!”

The sergeant of the mercenary corps, now one of the bandit leaders, was shouting in anger but fell forward mid-shout.

An arrow was lodged in the back of his head.

Arrows flew from both the front and the back.

Bandits were hit by arrows, and so were the refugees.

Screams and death filled the valley.

And shortly after, a group of soldiers appeared.

The soldiers, who had rushed in at a furious speed, began killing the armed bandits.

Having been showered with arrows, the terrified bandits could not resist properly.

“Get down!”

“Anyone standing will be killed!”

“Drop your weapons and get down!”

“Those who get down will be spared!”

Behind the soldiers who were engaged in a skirmish, dozens more soldiers lined up and shouted.

Those who heard the noise hurriedly threw down their weapons and lay flat on the ground.

Basmus also lay flat on the ground, observing the situation.

He was unbearably worried about his younger siblings, but he couldn’t move recklessly now, not knowing what might happen.

About ten soldiers passed by his worried side and then stopped.

From noble mtl dot com

“This one has a good build.”

Someone said from above the prostrate Basmas.

Basmus didn’t move a muscle.

He must not attract attention.

The attention of a high-ranking person meant death.

However, it seemed that the high-ranking person had no intention of just passing by.

“Stand up.”

Basmus slowly raised his head and got to his feet.

There was a young nobleman dressed in luxurious attire and a middle-aged mercenary glaring at him.

And ten mercenaries surrounded them as if to protect them.

It was a high-ranking person.

Two spears were pointed at him as if to keep him in check as he stood up.

The murderous look in their eyes seemed ready to stab him at any moment.

Basmus bowed his head and knelt down.

If he showed even the slightest resistance, he would die.

He couldn’t control his hands, which were trembling slightly.

“I saw someone carrying a rock earlier. Was that you?”

“Yes. Rock. Carry.”

The young nobleman smiled as if mocking him.

Then, pointing to a rock next to him, he commanded.

“Good. Try lifting this one too. If you can lift it, I’ll hire you.”

Basmus looked at the rock next to the young nobleman.

It was twice the size of the rock he had carried earlier.

Could he really lift it?

But even if he couldn’t, he had to try.

Otherwise, you will be hanged in front of the castle gate.

Robbery, especially when it involves killing someone, always ends with hanging in front of the castle gate.

His size was too big to rely solely on the mercy of the Kalmar nobles.

He didn’t think anyone would believe him even if he claimed he wasn’t a thief.

Basmus took several deep breaths and glared at the rock.

He had lifted something of similar size back home, though not quite this big.

And he had been eating well, even if it was just wheat pancakes, for the past few days.

So he could lift it.

He had to lift it.

Aaaah!

Basmus bent his knees and hugged the rock.

Then, shouting, he stood up.

A force swirling up from somewhere in his lower abdomen helped him.

Just as his legs began to tremble and feel weak, he managed to throw the rock to the side.

Thud!

The rock fell with a sound that seemed to shake the ground.

Among the soldiers who looked at him in astonishment, a young nobleman was smiling pleasantly.

He patted the shoulder of the middle-aged mercenary next to him and said,

“Thanks to following Sir Noren, I now have a subordinate who can use some strength.”

“Congratulations, Sir William.”

At that moment, Basmus’s younger siblings pushed through the crowd and ran to him.

“Brother!”

“Brother.”

The young nobleman of Kalmar, seeing the children clinging to Basmus and crying, had a peculiar expression.

He looked like someone who had encountered something unexpected.

“You had siblings?”

“Yes, my lord. Both of them are my siblings.”

Basmus nodded with his head bowed.

“Really? Then you must serve me well for the sake of your living siblings. And don’t do anything foolish anymore. See how much better it sounds when you speak properly.”

Basmus looked up in surprise and stared at his new employer.

The young nobleman, who was called Sir William, no longer seemed interested in him and was giving orders with a middle-aged mercenary by his side.

Basmus thought that he and his brothers were very lucky and embraced his brothers.

*

However, one of the mercenary groups that went to the border of the Count of Kalmar was not so lucky.

They encountered those who were stronger and more brutal than themselves.

And they were unilaterally defeated.

“What is this! Didn’t you say you would give up all your weapons and armor!”

“That’s right. That’s how it is among mercenaries. I know that it’s customary to take the weapons and armor of the defeated and just let them go.”

“Then why!”

“Because you pointed a sword at me. That’s rebellion. Rebels must die!”

The one who had been explaining calmly suddenly went mad with rage and struck with his sword.

The head of the protesting mercenary captain was split in two in an instant.

His subordinate mercenaries were no different.

The mercenaries, who were tied up as prisoners and huddled to one side, screamed and struggled against the weapons descending upon them.

The massacre did not last long.

The mercenary group that committed the massacre did not seem to think of cleaning up the scene, and soon began to move again with their flag.

Canal Mercenary Group.

They were a mercenary group active in the disputes of the Ulborg region.

And it was the very place where Erik Kalmar was the mercenary captain.

He shook his blood-soaked sword in the air.

Blood droplets scattered in all directions, leaving his mark.

The face of the dead mercenary captain also bore that mark.

Erik Kalmar saw the path he had to take.

The main road to Kalmar City.

It lay before him.