Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume4 Chapter3 (section)

===Part 1===


It was just as Leo had imagined.

By early evening, the area around the church had become a hunting ground for demons.

Just as the prince had advised, a market had been set up, and business had been thriving when Darren's soldiers suddenly attacked. He sent out three hundred of his troops but, in practice, only about a hundred led the attack, while the remaining men stayed on standby on the Old Highway. There was nobody at the market who would be able to put up a fight against them, so a hundred was more than enough. The assailants set fire throughout the market place for no reason at all, trampled the fleeing populace beneath their horses' hooves, struck young and old alike with bludgeons and mallets, and then sliced through their necks with blades.

Black smoke rose from all over, and as it swirled upwards, it seemed to drag with it the unending chorus of screams and cries. Some of the merchants had hired mercenaries as guards before coming, but that was only to deter thieves and bandits from attacking them on the road, and no one had ever imagined this kind of situation.

In the end, the people at the marketplace were unable to put a resistance or fight back, and they were slaughtered one-sidedly. When the excitable soldiers noticed a good-looking woman, they hoisted her onto their shoulders, cut off her feet her to stop her from moving, and had their men tie her up. If their lover or husband gave themselves over to fury, or if their children tearfully tried to oppose the soldiers, the number of victims only increased.

“This way, everyone, hurry!”

Bishop Bosc opened the doors of the church, and frantically shouted for people to come and take refuge inside, personally going out again and again to lead them in. Even though it was still in the middle of construction, the church was the only solid building in the area. People flooded into it, driven forward by terror.

The mother's expression was also deformed by fear as she hurried to the church, leading her young daughter by the hand, but a fat merchant rushing up from behind pushed her out of the way, and both mother and child tumbled to the ground.

“Hurry!”

Even so, the mother quickly struggled to her feet, and lifted up her daughter. The child was sobbing convulsively as her mother pulled her along by the hand and they started running again, but an attacker on horseback drew up behind them.

The spear in his hand was wet with blood, and his clean-shaven face had relaxed into a slovenly expression. He was drunk on the joy of massacre.

“D'you want to ran over there? Oookay, I'll let you run. But you have to have my horse follow you.” The man with the clean-shaven face deliberately avoided catching up with the mother and daughter, and laughed loudly as he stayed just behind them. “Running is useless, anyway. The building to the evil god will be burned down soon enough. You can curse Leo's name when you go to hell, since he built that thing and called death down on you all.”

Tired of playing tag, the soldier raised his spear. Its tip was aimed at the mother; he would stab it through her back then ride his horse to trample over the child where she fell.

But he never had the opportunity to carry out that plan. An arrow pierced his elbow, crushing the bone and slicing through his tendons. His blood and his screams gushed up simultaneously

A horse swiftly came up to him. For a second, he thought it was an ally. After all, there couldn't have been anyone on horseback other than his allies.

Yet the man on that horse was a stranger. No... rather than a man, he was more like a boy. And that boy swung a sword down towards him. Out of reflex, the clean-shaven soldier raised his wounded arm above his face, but the blade smoothly changed trajectory and, in a sideway sweep, sliced through clean-shaven's throat. The mother and daughter gazed up at the rain of blood coming from overhead.

“Go, hurry!” the boy yelled as his sword repelled the bludgeon that another soldier swang at him, before striking a blow in return and smashing his enemy's crude helmet.

That boy's name was Kuon.

It wasn't just him: an entire group had burst in like a sudden gust of wind onto a scene in which there had been nothing but blood and screams. They had dispersed into every direction, fiercely striking at Darren's soldiers from under the cover of their allies' arrows. They had no banner, and wore no visible insignia.

“W-Who are you!?” even though Darren's soldiers screamed in confusion, this new group had neither the duty nor the obligation to introduce themselves. Bellowing their war cries, they toppled the demons who were smeared in the blood of the people, slicing them down, and piercing them through with arrows.

Kuon halted his horse to protect the mother and daughter as they fled, and to run his eye around his surroundings for a moment, and the archer who had shot through clean-shaven's arm a moment ago rode up beside him. It was Aqua. And it was, of course, the mountain warriors who had thwarted what was supposed to be a one-sided slaughter led by Darren's men.

But they weren't alone, and, just a moment earlier, men from a different tribe had surged into the church's surroundings in response to Kuon's order.

Kuon turned back once to check that the mother and daughter had disappeared into the church at Bosc's urging, then exchanged a look with Aqua.

“Right,” they spurred their horses on to their next prey.



─ To explain how Kuon came to be there, we need to wind back time a little.

About five days after he had left the mountains with reinforcements from his clan, they ran into an unexpected ambush in the north of the Kesmai Plains.

This wasn't because of a lack of vigilance on Kuon's part. Although most of the Kesmai Plains was barren land with only the reddish-brown forms of sandstone cliffs as far as the eye could see, there was a narrow river running through it, flowing towards the mouth of the Zedora in the east, and its banks were dotted with patches of green grasslands. Since these meadows were suitable for pasture, the horse-riding tribes frequently pitched their tents in them. The violent temper of the Kesmai nomads was also well-known, so Kuon was going to keep as far away from these small steppes as he could, so as to avoid any unnecessary fights.

Yet, ahead of them, in the shadow of a rocky hill that looked like a man-made fortress, they spotted a group of about ten horsemen.

''Enemies?'' the mountain tribe was immediately on frenzied alert, but Kuon had noticed the white flag that the group was flying. These were nomads from the Halia tribe.

Kuon gave the order to pull up behind the riders. The dry wind blew between the two groups. Since one of the other riders had dismounted and seemed to be about to approach them, Kuon also jumped down from his horse. The man from the Halia tribe looked astonished as he approached him. When Kuon had killed Bahāt, a man whose violence had been causing endless trouble for Hāles – the head of the tribe – this young man had been one of those who had gone with Hāles to help provide cover with his bow for Kuon and Sarah. Kuon  recognised that scar on his cheek.

Kuon and the young man from the Halia tribe came to a halt between their two groups.

“Kuon, it really is you.”

The man lowered his voice since, even within the tribe, no one except those who had taken part in it knew that Kuon had cooperated with Hāles to kill Bahāt. He continued,

“Our people have been really worried: the tribe which has always stayed in the southern mountains suddenly started flocking in droves to these lands,” he said.

Someone had seen Kuon's group heading north, and had raced hurriedly to inform their tribe about it. Normally, the nomads were divided into a number of clans which travelled around the grasslands that were scattered throughout the plains. And although the Kesmai Plains were vast, its meadows were scarce, so there were plenty of times when groups clashed with one another over territory rights. Yet when they heard the news that: “The mountains are moving,” they all hastily got in touch with their fellow tribesmen.

There was no time for family quarrels when an unexpected threat was drawing near. If one of the many powers scattered throughout the plains had allied itself with the 'mountains' to destroy the power balance in Kesmai, then they might need to work together to crush that plan as quickly as possible. Following that, Hāles, the young head of the Halia, decided that the first thing to do was to try and approach the 'mountains'.

But although he understood the situation, Kuon could not afford to stop here. It was lucky that the one chosen as an envoy was a young man who shared Chief Hāles' secret. Kuon was easily able to explain to him both his reason for crossing the Kesmai Plains and heading towards the 'mountains', as well as why he was now once more travelling across the plains, this time with the mountain people in tow.

“We just want to go through Kesmai. Unless someone tries to stop us, we absolutely won't do anything to interfere here.”

“I'll report to the Chief. I think you already know this, but don't go near the meadows. Our clan is one thing, but there are plenty of guys with short fuses in the other ones too.”

The nomad riders left, and Kuon and his group once more started heading north. During the next few days, although the figures of other horsemen – who were probably monitoring them – could occasionally be glimpsed in the distance, the mountain people were able to advance without meeting any obstacles.

It was on a day when the wind was blowing somewhat strongly that they received an answer from the head of the Halia. A party of about thirty riders appeared, their white robes fluttering in the brownish, sand-laden wind.

The one acting as their envoy was the young man with the scarred cheek.

“Our chief, Lord Hāles, has mediated with the other tribes, and has informed all of them that this move from the 'mountains' isn't going to harm the plains,” he explained to Kuon.

Chief Hāles had also added that: “I owe a great debt to Master Kuon and Lady Sarah,” and, as such, he had sent them reinforcements: “By Faihan, the fang of the Wolf God, Roh Gas, which continued to fight even after it had been broken off, I pray that Master Kuon will make free use of the thirty that I send him.”

Naturally, Kuon was surprised.

“Hang on. You don't need to go that far. Bahāt was... er, no, I mean, when I did ''that'', it was for my own sake, not yours.”

“Don't worry,” the young man's dark, suntanned face broke out into a smile. “The Halia tribe isn't afraid, first,  to fight, and  second, to die in combat. By Faihan, the fang of Roh Gas which came to life, I hope that you won't hold back when using us.”

That really wasn't what Kuon had meant, but since they couldn't afford to waste any time, he decided to swallow his surprise and add these new companions to the group.

“I'm called Zan Chiredeau,” the young man introduced himself.

And so, Kuon continued his way across the plain, while gaining some unplanned allies. Their trip was uneventful... Or would have been, if not for the fact that they were attacked by wolves one night.

It was often said that: “the wolves of the Kesmai Plains know the taste of human flesh.” There were stories about how, when they attacked the camps set up by merchant caravans from the north, they would leap to attack humans, even though these held flame torches in their hands, rather than the horses who were tied to one place.

The mountain people were all thrown into a frenzy, but Zan and the other nomads knew what to do: “There aren't many of them, so we can drive them away with jūma smoke,” they said and, from their saddlebags, they produced bundles of dried grass that they then set alight. The smoke had a unique smell that wolves hated.

The young nomads, Zan included, brandished the lit bundles of grass while chanting prayers to the wolf god. The beasts growled and snuffled almost sadly, but before long, they hung their heads and turned tail one after another.

After which, the group was fortunately able to leave the Kesmai Plains without meeting any more packs of wolves or swarms of ashinaga.

Taking the same route as when heading towards the mountain, Kuon led the way across the Pass of the Wailing Tresses and then to the highway. There, he chose about ten riders, and hurried ahead with them to Guinbar.

He was fretting that Darren's forces might start marching at any moment but, at the time, the situation was still perfectly peaceful. It was so anticlimactic that Kuon felt let down. And on top of that, when he asked Savan, he learned that Leo was away from the castle.

For a while, Kuon hesitated about what to do. He had the option of waiting at Guinbar, but this was his first time leading troops of several hundred men. He couldn't just decide at his own discretion where they would be lodged, and where they would live. If he had discussed things with Savan, he would certainly have been able to sort that out, but Leo was Kuon's direct superior, the equivalent of a unit leader in the mountains, and so it wasn't to Savan that he was going to entrust his fate..

“In that case, I'll head to Bernard's territory too,” he decided, and immediately got back on his horse. It hadn't even been an hour since he had first passed through the gates of Guinbar Castle.

''What a restless child'', thought Savan, but turned his mind to practical things:

“If you go straight along the highway, you'll arrive in Darren's territory. I'll send some soldiers to guide you.”

Thus, after joining up with his main force of riders again, Kuon rode fast to the east of Guinbar and arrived at the start of the Old Highway before sunset. There, he made an encounter that was completely outside of his predictions; he met with the advance unit that Darren had sent out.

Darren Actica had left Dharam with a force of two thousand, from which he had detached a unit of five hundred, and had them advance as the vanguard. Since three hundred of those were to attack the church, the remaining two hundred were moving forward along the Old Highway to attack the guard posts and take control of the relay stations. Among them, twenty riders were travelling ahead to the west, scouting out where to set up a blockade along the old road. These were the ones who ran into Kuon.

Naturally, Darren's men were startled by this group of riders that had suddenly appeared out of the blue. Judging from their appearances, they guessed  that they were probably bandits who had established their base nearby.

“Who are you bastards?” they arrogantly called out to them. “Get out of the way. We've got several hundred soldiers behind us, so don't look down on our numbers,” they said. “You trot along quietly. We don't have time to deal with you lot,” they sneered from horseback and held up their weapons threateningly.

Kuon scrunched his eyes into a squint. Among the mountain tribe, his eyesight was known to be especially good, and even in the dusky light of sunset, he spotted the crest on their armour. It was the emblem that had also been on the enemy banners back when he had fought at Olt Rose – the crest of the Actica family. And in fact, the leader of the scouting party was a man with family ties to House Actica.

Kuon threw out his chest with deliberate provocation.

“Who are these 'insolent curs'?” he shouted back an expression that he had picked up somewhere. “I serve Lord Leo, and I'm on urgent business. You guys are the ones who need to give way.”

“What!”

“Did he say the prince?”

Their opponents were visibly shaken. Which was perfectly understandable: they were supposed to be leading a surprise attack, so it was unthinkable that the prince was already moving into action.

Just then, someone brought their horse up alongside Kuon's. It was Aqua. 'She' – 'he', I should say – was wearing full armour, and tossed a glare at the opposing side before asking: “Are they enemies?”

Energy was almost radiating from that helmeted profile. The message was clear: either they had enemies to be defeated, or they were just wasting their time by stopping here like this. Kuon found it kind of amusing.

At the same time, he also came to a decision: there was no point arguing back and forth here. No matter what  their opponents said or did from now on, the response was already clear. Namely –

“They're enemies. Get 'em.”

Kuon kicked his horse's flanks. By the time he had pulled the sword from at his waist, Aqua's bow was already taking aim.

“R-Retreat!”

“Head back to the station. Before we're attacked by the prince's troops!”

Their opponents all simultaneously started turning their horses around. Kuon had already made his mind up about this, too. The man who was the slowest to turn back fell from his horse, his throat pierced by Aqua's arrow. Kuon's horse galloped past him in the next instant, and the rest of the group of riders also sped forward to the echo of their horses' hooves.

For a little while, it turned into a chase, but their numbers were fundamentally different. And the people of the Halia tribe could ride across the plains all day without problem. With that kind of rider, the horses were also well-trained: even though their opponents' horses were panting wildly, the nomads' steeds chased after them with complete unconcern.

Kuon had half of the twenty men killed, and the remaining half tied up and interrogated. From what they said, there were less than two hundred soldiers occupying the relay station up ahead.

So Darren Actica had already made his move, after all.

The Halia tribesmen had some experience when it came to dealing and trading with urban settlements, including those in Atall, so Kuon entrusted them with a message from him, and sent them to Guinbar Castle. After sending them off, he took the lead of the group of riders, and they boldly rode along the Old Highway.

They arrived at the relay station around midnight, where they saw torches had been lit. These were not nightlights for travellers, but fires allowing the occupying military unit to keep a watch on their surroundings. When they noticed Kuon's group approaching, the soldiers on guard came racing over. They probably thought that the scouting party had returned, but Aqua, who was next to Kuon, already had a bow drawn tight and, using the torches as signpost, pierced a soldier's windpipe with an arrow.

A second went by. Kuon was reminded of the time he had pissed on an ants' nest, back when he was very young. After a moment, countless numbers of them had come scurrying out of their den. The only difference was that this time, it was humans, not ants.

Only about half of them were armed, and the rest of them looked like they had been roused from their beds. It would have been better for them if they had taken shields, but most of them had just grabbed a single weapon. The mountain people aimed their many arrows at the 'ants'. Almost all of them had better night-vision than those raised in cities, and the men of the tribe normally spent their days shooting down birds and beasts. Darren's soldiers, who had not even been wearing armour, fell crashing to the ground.

Seeing that the time was right, Kuon carved his way through the front. Here again, it was a one-sided fight. The soldiers on Darren's side realised their complete disadvantage, and were going to double back along the Old Highway, but Kuon had sent men from the Halia tribe in that direction beforehand, and they were waiting there  in ambush.

Screams, shrieks, and cries of pain rose into the night along the road, but they didn't last long. The entire fight didn't even last half an hour.

Despite achieving victory for now, Kuon and his group had no time to rest. They left only a few soldiers to guard the relay station, and immediately headed east along the Old Highway. Yet neither the mountain men nor the nomads showed any sign of fatigue. On the contrary; their eyes gleamed, hungering for blood. Aqua, who had killed humans for the first time, was in the same state.

“Is that it? Are these Atall's soldiers? They're way slower and more cowardly than the beasts in the mountains.”
Kuon shook his head at those words.

“Things won't go this easy forever.”

The heads of unit among the soldiers who were following him backed him up.

“Stay focused! Heed the words of the warrior who even defeated Raga!” they shouted, and cries of agreement rose up from within the troops.

It was late afternoon of the following day when Guinbar Church came into sight. The surprise attack from Darren's soldiers had begun, and there were already many victims. Kuon realised that they were late, but not yet too late.

“Let's go,” Kuon gave his order from horseback. “Everyone, attack!”

This was no place for detailed tactics. The mountain warriors were used to acting with their households – in other words, with their units – and the nomads also knew how to hunt and how to attack. Aqua's first arrow, which pierced clean-shaven's arm, signalled the start of their assault. And Darren's side was about to be crushed for the third time in a very short span by the same group.