Akatsuki Translations

Casserole Mille Morteln, the knight, and his confidant, Sheets.

The two of them have many things in common.

First, they both consider each other irreplaceable best friends.

They’ve both climbed the ranks from destitute beginnings by distinguishing themselves on the battlefield, earning many honors and rewards to reach their current status.

And the most significant similarity is a talent said to be one in ten thousand: the ability to use magic.

Casserole’s “Teleportation” is widely known, but Sheets’s “Farsight” magic is also renowned, though it often remains overshadowed.

Sheets chose to serve under Casserole because he recognized that his magic was more suited for support. He believed that he was better suited as a second-in-command rather than the leader, and that Casserole was the one who could best utilize his abilities. Indeed, on countless battlefields, the duo has achieved unparalleled victories.

“Boss, there’s trouble ahead.” -Sheets

“What is it?” -Casserole

After about twenty minutes of riding side by side,

They saw what seemed to be bandits from a distance, who were now getting closer. Despite the distance that would normally make them invisible to bandits unfamiliar with the land, Sheets, with his unique ability, could clearly see them.

“It seems their leader is an ex-cavalry. They have five horses, all robust. The riders seem quite skilled too. Looks like they’re preparing for an ambush.” -Sheets

“How many bandits are there?” -Casserole

“Ten, twenty… fifty-six. No, fifty-seven. There are a few people are tied up.” -Sheets

“More than fifty was expected, but that’s still a lot.” -Casserole

An “ex-cavalry” is a derogatory term for mercenary cavalry, known to be a formidable enemy on the battlefield.

Horses. Especially those that can be ridden and have overcome fear through training for the military, become an invaluable asset on the battlefield. Their versatility, mobility, and breakthrough power make them an impeccable branch of the military. They become what’s commonly known as cavalry.

A horse, being a bigger eater than a human, can run faster and stronger. In front of an enemy, it becomes a mass weighing several hundred kilograms.

Depending on its use, even a single horse can scatter ten or twenty enemies with its might.

It’s akin to thinking of the impact of a small car; a mere human can’t resist and would be sent flying.

Just being stepped on by a horse could be fatal. To an enemy, there might be no other military branch as troublesome.

However, maintaining a horse for personal use is typically difficult without substantial financial resources. Horses eat more than humans, and if you’re treating them as military horses, you can’t just feed them any grass. They require specialized fodder or vast grazing lands.

By nature, horses, being herbivores, are timid creatures. Training them to remain unflinching amidst loud noises and intense clashes, and maintaining that conditioning, is necessary.

Roughly speaking, with one silver coin, a typical farming family can live for about a month. However, maintaining a warhorse requires an average of three to four silver coins a month.

Nobles are granted taxation rights, partly to sustain such expenses.

While horses are impeccable in terms of military strength, they drain money for maintenance.

Mercenaries who can afford such horses on their own are referred to as “ex-cavalry.”

Riding is a skill, and considering the expense of maintaining a horse, mercenary cavalrymen who can afford their horses usually had a significant background. They were often originally nobles who fell from grace, or mercenaries who accumulated valor and rewards through numerous battles, or skilled warriors under the employ of wealthy merchants with generous compensations.

Or perhaps, they were high-ranking members in a large-scale bandit group.

Regardless, they clearly stand apart from the destitute who turn to banditry. In short, they are formidable opponents.

The mere presence of multiple such individuals indicates that the attacking bandit group is far from ordinary.

Although it was understood when the Count’s house failed to suppress them, they seem to be quite a fearsome bunch.

“However… it seems they don’t carry much food with them.” -Sheets

“That’s as expected on our end.” -Casserole

“That’s fortunate for us.” -Sheets

From what Sheets could see, a few among the bandits were clearly porters, carrying heavy loads and connected by ropes, likely villagers captured and treated like slaves. Their fate was to be worked to death and eventually become prey for wild dogs. When they run out of strength, they die.

The two of them exchanged nods, silently vowing not to let their families and comrades suffer the same fate.

Based on the amount of goods the bandits were carrying, Sheets estimated they had food for about two days. Given their situation, it was almost certain they would decide to attack during the night.

If they could provoke them properly, the Morteln army, familiar with the terrain, would have the advantage in a short-term battle. Even if they were outmatched in quality and quantity, the conscripted farmers would still have a fighting chance.

“Sheets, don’t fall behind.” -Casserole

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Boss, just hurry up and make sure you don’t get an arrow in your ass.” -Sheets

The two horse figures began to race.

As the evening darkened further and night began to fall, they rode into a wilderness where streetlights were unheard of and fires were not lit. The two shadows merged into the darkness.

The sound of galloping hooves alerted the bandits, but only slightly after it began.

The sun had set. They were preparing to raid the village under the cover of night, aiming to seize women, food, and goods.

Some immediately readied themselves, brandishing rusted swords. Others held old spears, whose origins, perhaps from some battlefield, were unclear.

Their weapons varied, but their reactions were swifter than some mediocre mercenary groups.

Among the group, which surprisingly exhibited the demeanor of martial artists rather than typical bandits, two cavalrymen charged in.

One threw several stones, and as some of the bandits shielded their eyes and faces from the flying debris, the second rider swiftly cut them down. With no formal challenge and a rough surprise attack, the bandits showed signs of faltering.

After leaving behind a couple of crushed screams, reminiscent of a bird being slammed to the ground, the horses raced through the group.

The bandit leader, witnessing such adept maneuvers, surmised that they were skilled knights. The fact that they prioritized racing through without unnecessarily attacking indicated their proficiency in mounted combat.

“You lot, there’s only two of them! Don’t get intimidated. More will come soon. Those with spears, get ready! And remember, never step in front of the horses. They’ll trample and kill you!” -Helm

The instructions from the bandit leader were spot on when facing a cavalry charge.

Casserole and Sheets, preparing for another charge, had to reconsider given the bandits’ impressive response.

Frustrated by the unexpectedly tough bandits, the two deliberately spoke in loud voices for the bandits to hear.

“Boss, this won’t work. We’ll get skewered. We can’t handle these numbers. Let’s abandon the reconnaissance and head back to the village.” -Sheets

“Let’s do that. We need to hurry, prepare our defenses, and alert the villagers about the bandits!” -Casserole

Leaving behind words uncharacteristic of warriors who had just charged into a group, the galloping hooves began to fade.

The bandits made a miscalculation.

Normally, riding a horse was a sign of high status, especially in impoverished villages where maintaining a horse would be a challenge. If two mounted men attacked, they would assume the village would be leaderless and easy prey.

If they were dealing with a typical rural lord, or a place like the recently raided knight’s territory, their judgment would have been correct. What they didn’t account for was that everyone in the Morteln territory was in a do-or-die situation. And that the village they presumed was unguarded had the most formidable “commander” present.

“Boss, there’re arrows on fire coming our way.” -Sheets

“That must be Pas’ doing. Making such a conspicuous move… is he luring them?” -Casserole

“Then we should go west. If we go east, we’ll damage the fields.” -Sheets

“Whatever he’s planning, let’s go!” -Casserole

The swift hooves of the two horses contrasted with the pursuing bandits, who had no choice but to draw their weapons and chase.

From the bandits’ perspective, they believed they could raid the unprepared village immediately rather than allowing them time to ready their defenses.

As the two escaping horses drew closer to the village, the pursuing bandits unintentionally formed a single-file line due to their varying speeds.

When Casserole and Sheets, the two riders, changed direction at the signal of the flaming arrows,

It was only natural for the bandits to move as if lured by what they were chasing in the darkness, as they couldn’t see clearly ahead.

The group that had been running in a straight line towards the village changed their direction sideways. As a result, they ended up looking at the village from the “side.”

“Fire!” -Pastry

With a young voice, a rain of countless pebbles descended. The bandits, suddenly hit with hard lumps, were thrown into chaos.

From unexpected places, a barrage of stones rained down on them. They specifically targeted their heads and horses.

Some even threw balls of cloth on fire. Whether they were soaked in oil or not, sparks flew as soon as they made contact.

“Next, fire!” -Pastry

The stones varied in size, from the size of a thumb to the size of a fist.

Though many stones simply rolled around in front of them, their sheer number was overwhelming.

Even a thumb-sized stone could cut the skin, and a larger one could easily knock someone unconscious upon hitting the head. The fireballs speak for themselves.

The bandits instinctively stopped to protect themselves from the stone barrage, reacting out of a defense mechanism.

The continual rain of stones took its toll. Several were knocked unconscious by the larger stones, and some had fire spread across their faces. To add to the chaos, even the horses started to panic, causing severe injuries as they trampled.

“Damn it!” -Bandit

“Underestimating us with mere stones!” -Bandit

However, the bandits, being who they were, quickly recovered from just being attacked with stones.

Abandoning their unruly horses, they charged towards the village.

They entered a dry moat to cross the ditch and clashed with the villagers wielding wooden spears as they tried to cross the fence.

Judging by the number of stones, it was clear that the majority of the village’s forces were right in front of them. The bandits geared up for what they thought would be the main confrontation.

“Argh!”

“It hurts!”

Cries of pain echoed from various places, unfortunately, more so from inside the barricades than outside.

The bandits were experienced killers, while the villagers were mere farmers.

The difference in weapons, lack of hesitation, and familiarity with killing all worked against the villagers.

Gradually, more bandits began to cross the moat.

Among them was one particularly burly man who deflected a villager’s wooden spear and, with a slash to the shoulder, managed to climb over the fence.

“Hey, who wants to die? Come at me!!” -Helm

Upon closer inspection, he was what was called an ex-cavalry.

The sword he held was well-maintained, unlike the rusty weapons of his comrades. Even now, stained with blood, it was clear that it was forged by a skilled blacksmith.

Swinging his sharp greatsword, this bandit, who was likely their leader, was a force to be reckoned with.

Suddenly, a man, flung aside like nothing, tumbled, involving another villager in his fall.

After defeating the main force, the bandits believed they could do as they pleased.

Or so it appeared to them.

However, the villagers weren’t as panicked as expected. And there weren’t as many villagers as they had anticipated. The leader of the bandits noticed this, but before he could understand the reason, his men began to fall.

“What the hell is happening, huh!?” -Helm

The leader, holding his sword casually over his shoulder, walked nonchalantly towards his fallen comrades. As the leader of a band of bandits, he couldn’t be easily intimidated.

But, unwittingly, he came to know the cause. Quite literally, “throughout his own entire body.”

“Ahhhh!! It, it burns! What’s happening?!” -Helm

Burning heat and pain spread across his face. He found himself rolling on the ground in agony, along with his men. Amidst the unbearable pain, the leader saw a young boy.

“Marc, Lumi, buy some more time with another round of stones. Fire!” -Pastry

A silver-haired boy, who could best be described as cute, was giving the orders.

When their eyes met, the bandit leader realized that the boy was the cause of their agony. The boy’s cold, calm gaze told him everything.

“You, what did you do…” -Helm

His face was already scorched, and every breath brought excruciating pain.

In return, he received a cold and calm response.

“I didn’t do much. I just ‘replicated’ the injuries of your comrades onto others. It was hard to find those with the right amount of injuries.” -Pastry

“You’re a magic user?” -Helm

“Yes, that’s what they usually call people like me.” -Pastry

And with that, the leader was hit in the back of the head with a large stone, losing consciousness. He lamented his bad luck that a mage was hiding in such a remote place.

“The leader’s down!” -Bandit

“Damn it, retreat!” -Bandit

The bandits were surprisingly well-coordinated.

Seeing them start to retreat, Pastry thought they were rather organized.

“Well, they can’t escape anyway.” -Pastry

Before the boy’s eyes, his father and his friend, leading the western troops, were annihilating the confused bandits.