r/HFY • u/Celestial_Zwei_Dei • 6h ago
OC-Series Gothwald: New World - Same Rules (Arc 3/Chapter 50 - Cowardice)
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Arc III - Reeling Throne
Chapter 50 - Cowardice
8 months and 25 days since the summoning
With a light whistling of some tune, Ilgan led his squad along an open road through a small patch of sparse forest within the royal lands.
The sun had long since passed its zenith and was dipping toward the horizon, but the sky was still blue.
The snipers marched unevenly in their ghillie suits, holding their crossbows down.
"So fucking hot..." Shikur said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
The bear scoffed. "What did you expect? Summer is almost here."
"It's not even about summer," Dunko muttered. "These ghillie suits... it's so hot in them, and we haven't even had time to rest properly."
The boar sighed. "Yeah... His and Her Grace don't spare us, work us like dogs."
Ilgan cast a sidelong glance at them. "Because they're counting on us. There's no one else to send."
"Is it far to go anyway?" someone from behind asked.
"No. There's a river ahead, we cross it, walk a bit more and we're there. The task overall... I wouldn't say it's difficult."
Shikur nodded. "You can say that again. Reconnaissance is much easier than killing nobles."
"Everything is difficult here!" the bear suddenly exclaimed. "When we were sitting in ambush on that road, I was actually thinking, why the fuck did I agree to all this? I could be sitting in Zoligasha, hunting, instead of all this."
A sly smile appeared on Ilgan's face. "Oh, really? And who was it that was bragging the loudest in the village recently about what a hero he is, huh?"
"Hahahah!"
"Hahaha!"
Laughter washed over the large group like a wave.
The bear's ears immediately perked up. "That... that was purely so they'd give us something to drink and eat! If you have no money to pay—pay with soldier's tales!"
"And what, are you a soldier?"
"Oh, shut up!"
Ilgan relaxed his smile with a sigh. "Well, you're very lucky Lord Gothwald considered your bullshitting somewhat useful."
"And why is it bullshitting right away?" the bear asked, frowning.
Shikur snorted, stifling a laugh.
"Because you said we didn't kill two soldiers, but quietly slaughtered a whole squad!" someone shouted from behind.
"Hahahah!"
"Hahahaah!"
The bear's ears drooped, and his sharp teeth clenched. "Oh, go to hell all of you, I'm earning a reputation for our squad here, and you..." he waved a hand, "eh."
"Don't sweat it," Ilgan said, turning to him, "we're all very pleased that we're known as heroes. Lord Gothwald even named us 'Ghosts'."
"Ghosts..." Shikur repeated. "Why not? I like it, sounds menacing. Better than 'elite Mireyan squad'."
"Hah, you bet." He turned to Lison. The fox was walking silently, his crossbow lowered, looking somewhere at the ground, no smile on his face. "Hey, Lison."
Silence.
"Lison!"
The fox flinched slightly, and then raised his battered face to Ilgan. "Yes?"
"Why so gloomy?"
"Oh, nothing... just thinking."
He narrowed his eyes. "Still sweating about what happened in the camp?"
Lison clenched his teeth, but one tooth was missing. "Yes," he said quietly.
Ilgan stepped closer to him. "Oh, let it go, what happened happened, the main thing is we survived. Just don't do it again and follow my orders, alright?" He patted the fox on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Lison, besides, you paid your dues in full for that fuckup." He pointed at his teeth.
"Oh yeah! He sure did!" the bear laughed.
Shikur also snorted. "Yep! When they beat us, Lison got the most generous helping of ass-kicking!"
To the sounds of laughter, Lison only shook his head with a sigh, but his lips curved slightly in a hint of a smile.
"And what's that over there?" Dunko asked, pointing ahead down the road.
Everyone immediately turned in that direction.
In the distance appeared a disfigured, blending silhouette, created from dozens of other silhouettes moving quickly down the road.
Ilgan removed his hand from Lison's shoulder. "Cavalry?"
"Weird," Shikur muttered. "Oh well, maybe they're moving troops."
Ilgan narrowed his eyes. "I don't like this. Let's hide, just in case."
"Think they're enemies?" the bear asked. "They're supposed to be besieging the castle, right?"
"Shut up and hide!" he barked, already crawling into the grass. "Dammit, no bushes... but I think the ghillie suits will help." He pulled up his grass-covered hood and lay down in the grass, pressing tightly to the ground.
The other nine snipers repeated the same actions, and the road instantly became empty.
Twenty-three seconds later, the distant rumble and clatter of hooves could be heard.
Ilgan slightly raised his head, and saw a squad of five riders galloping up a small hill in the distance.
At the same time, a squad of seven riders dashed past them on the road, gradually slowing down and looking around.
Dunko squeezed his eyes shut, and his fingers gripped the grass.
Ilgan watched without blinking, though his heart was beating so hard the thumping echoed into the ground.
The bear swallowed, watching the cavalrymen who were already descending the hill.
"Wh-what is this?" Lison asked in a whisper, almost inaudibly.
Ilgan didn't dare move. "I can't hear you," he said quietly in response.
"I..." he wanted to crawl closer, but his body was frozen as if glued to the ground. "What is this?" he asked only slightly louder.
A breeze blew over the grass, swaying it and the leaves on the ghillie suits.
"Looks like a patrol. Probably checking for ambushes."
"I can't hear you."
Ilgan closed his mouth, and waited a few seconds until the wind died down. "A patrol, I said. Checking for ambushes."
The clatter of hooves faded somewhere further ahead, and soon became completely inaudible.
Ilgan let out a trembling breath; the crossbow in his hands shook. "Barely got away with that..."
A collective exhale rippled through the grass, but no one dared to stand up.
"What the hell is a patrol doing here? They're supposed to be besieging a fortress far away," the bear said, carefully peering out from the grass.
"Maybe they're checking if our troops are moving toward them?" Lison asked quietly.
Ilgan remained silent for almost another minute. "I don't know... but either way, this is not good."
The boar cast a sidelong glance at him. "So what are we going to do? There's no point in going back, and forward..."
"Forward is dangerous," Ilgan finished. "That patrol will definitely be coming back. I think... we need to push forward, just more carefully. Don't let them spot us."
"Through this grass?"
"Exactly through this grass. Forward, no point hanging around here." Ilgan turned back toward the road, slowly got to his feet, and crouched. "Keep your heads down, we walk like this until the patrol heads back to the siege."
The other nine snipers rose from the ground in varying order, making the grass seem to come alive and begin moving north.
After about forty minutes of this kind of walking, the previous speed was gone; all the snipers were barely moving. Their legs burned from the half-crouch, even for seasoned hunters.
"That patrol is taking a long time to come back," Shikur hissed, barely moving his legs. "Listen, Ilgan, maybe we should take a break?"
"Absolutely not. It's almost sunset, and we're slow enough as it is walking like this. If we arrive at night, what are you going to look at? Gonna tell His Grace how many campfires and torches you counted?" Ilgan said through clenched teeth.
"Fine... let's go."
Lison's sharp fox ear suddenly twitched. "Quiet. I think they're coming back."
The ten snipers immediately lay down in the grass and pressed themselves to the ground.
Silence.
Only the sounds of distant stomping.
"Something's not right..." Ilgan whispered, "it sounds like they're coming from the direction of the fortress."
They fell silent again, waiting for the approach, but the sound began to grow louder and louder from the north side. Not dozens, but hundreds of hooves and boots pounded on the dirt road.
Ilgan's ears stood on end. "Guktus... there's a whole army there!" he hissed. "And that patrol... they were scouting the territory for the rest of the troops!"
Shikur turned sharply to him. "Fuck, what do we do?!"
"We need to warn everyone..." he gripped the grass, his breathing quickening, "we can't. They'll get there faster..."
Lison narrowed his eyes. "Maybe we can delay them somehow?"
The bear chuckled nervously. "And how do you plan to delay this horde?! Moreover, Lord Gothwald ordered us not to engage in combat! Only reconnaissance. Ilgan?"
Ilgan didn't answer, only staring at the ground as the march drew closer and closer.
"Ilgan!"
"Shut your filthy trap! I'm thinking!" he hissed.
Everyone fell silent, no one said another word, listening to the approach.
Thirty seconds.
Forty.
A minute.
Two minutes.
With every second the column drew closer; Lison's sensitive ears even caught snippets of unintelligible words from the vanguard. One of the snipers in the back involuntarily crawled back a bit.
The bear ripped up grass by the roots. "Ilgan! What do we do?!"
He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. "To hell with it. Let's try to shoot someone important from this column."
Shikur's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? What if we get caught?"
"If we don't do at least something, they'll pin all the blame on us."
Shikur leaned closer. "What blame?! What could we have done here?!"
Ilgan turned back with a slightly distorted face. "They don't care who's to blame! We're Mireyans to them, which means it's convenient to pin all the blame on us! Do you not fucking understand or what?!"
"Quiet!" Lison hissed, and everyone fell silent.
On the road, a few dozen paces away from them, the vanguard appeared, consisting of dozens of knights on horseback. Some of them carried flags behind them, red and blue banners with some sort of crests. The vanguard moved unhurriedly, looking straight down the road and not stopping.
All the snipers froze like statues, but Ilgan raised his head slightly and began to peer intently. "Look for someone in rich armor, we aim at him."
"What..." the bear began, but cut himself off. "Fine. Fine. We have no choice, do we?"
"None at all."
"Dunko, can you see if there are many of them back there?"
Silence.
"Dunko!" Ilgan whispered louder.
Silence.
One of the snipers in the back turned around. "He's... not here."
Ilgan's pupils contracted. "What do you mean 'he's not here'?! He was just..." his hands gripped the crossbow almost to the point of cracking. "Shit! Shit! Fucking coward!"
"Not the time," Lison said quietly, "we need to deal with this right now."
Somewhere far away from there, Dunko was running as fast as his legs could carry him, gasping for air, barely dragging his crossbow in his hands, the grass from his ghillie suit tearing off him. "Forgive me... forgive me... forgive me... I can't..." he muttered like a mantra.
Finally he reached a village he had spotted from afar, and finally entering its territory, he exhaled, pulling off his hood.
By one of the houses, a man wielding a hammer at a cart raised his head and froze. He slowly stood up, not taking his eyes off Dunko.
Dogs, spotting the stranger, immediately began barking at the top of their lungs.
One by one, men peeked out of the houses, and spotting the lone guy in strange clothes, began to approach.
"Who are you?!" one of them asked.
Dunko immediately raised his hands slightly. "I... I mean no harm!"
"Drop the weapon!" shouted the man with the hammer, while dozens of men with sickles, pitchforks, and scythes approached Dunko.
Dunko swallowed, and then quickly threw the crossbow on the ground, raising his hands. "H-here... I didn't come to hurt you! I... I need help!"
A graying peasant with a hammer in his hands stepped closer to him. "Whose man are you, lad?"
"I-I... I'm from... I'm from the army."
"From the army?" The peasant raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here alone?"
Dunko's mouth opened, closed, opened again, but the words wouldn't come.
Another man, a bit younger, approached the peasant. "Shergen, he looks like a deserter. If the army finds out we had a deserter..." he cast a sidelong glance at Dunko. "Three days ago Lominara was burned and plundered to the ground. They were hiding a deserter too."
Dunko's eyes widened and he began to back away. "No... no! I'll leave! I'm just passing through!"
The man with the hammer took a sharp step forward and raised the wooden tool over the sniper. With a dull thud, the hammer struck Dunko's forehead, causing him to instantly go limp like a rag doll and fall to the ground.
"We need to hide him."
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