1
Compared to the hectic, work-laden day before, time now passed slowly in anticipation. In the afternoon, it started to drizzle. Everyone left at the outpost felt immense relief for not being among those sent out in such weather. It didn't make waiting for the news any less anxious, however. Would the scouts return with the greatest discovery in human history—or would they return at all?
To help the prisoners, Izumi dragged an iron-made fire pit from the shed to warm them.
“It's a little small...Want me to find you another?” she asked the knight.
“I'm fine,” Brian said. “Set it closer to her highness.”
“If you say so...”
Riswelze, who helped light the fire with her runic mastery, had great difficulty containing her delight over the princess's situation.
“Oh my, your highness. How's it hanging? Looks absolutely agonizing! What a change of roles this is! I'd help you, really, but my hands are tied...not!”
“Now I know I've hit the rock bottom,” Yuliana grimaced. “Being mocked by the one person in this world, whose rightful place should be here in my stead...”
“That's the circle of life for you. Isn't it iron-ic? No matter who we are, or how good the cards dealt to us, like an endless chain, our fate comes to bind us...”
“Perhaps you should have become a bard instead of a cutthroat? I see it suits you so much better.”
“Not at all. I only just got started, yet have no idea how to wrap this up. Maybe you could lend me a hand? Only if you're free, I'd hate to take up your time...”
“After what happened at the river, I was almost starting to think better of you. How foolish of me. Some people are simply irredeemable. Isn't that right?”
“Such a predictable reaction. I keep hearing it everywhere I go. You call almost it...a chain reac—”
—“Guess I'll go back to bed now,” Izumi said.
“Ah, me two,” the assassin stood up. “The only place I like being cuffed in is the bedroom.”
“Should I be worried? Maybe sleep someplace else?”
The longer the uneventful day passed, the more worried Yuliana grew regarding the fate of the knights. It was barely before sunset, when a watchman blew his horn. The first of the squads returned. A line of tired and drenched men and horses flowed in through the entryway, not bothering to pay much any attention to the captives. One look at their dejected faces made the news clear: there weren't any. Despite the maps and the explorers' undisputed ability to read them, they had failed to locate the spring.
Of course, the forest was rather big. Expecting to hit the goldmine right at the first strike was too much asked. Everyone was prepared for an extended search from the beginning. But that didn't make the day's efforts any less wasted, and who could've felt good about it? They had all made it back alive, but because they were alive, they could feel hunger, cold, fatigue and disappointment.
It was not a great adventure they went through.
The squad rode twenty miles, until the terrain got difficult enough that they had to leave their horses and march another twelve-mile loop on foot. As the maps had predicted, a vast bog circled the target area, making progress slow and tiresome. The squad had circled around the worst bits, before concluding the search fruitless and turning back.
Exactly how could one pinpoint the right spring in such watery and difficult land?
The right one was probably not marked by a heavenly light, godly weapons, or the ruins of an ancient civilization. The men had sampled water from numerous clear-looking natural springs along the way, but no one certainly felt any younger.
It seemed logical to assume the Divine Lord wouldn't leave such an important place unguarded, but the knights hadn't encountered any hostiles either. Regular snakes looking for warmer spots. A few early mosquitoes. Some fist-sized arachnids and smaller centipedes. Random lizards. A wild goat. And those were the only signs of life they witnessed the entire day.
Not long after, the sun set and darkness returned.
Still no sign of the second team.
Fires were lit around the outpost, in and outside the walls. The commander ordered the outer patrol to be called in and the front gate barred. The woodcutters had built a cheval de fris, a spiky cavalry obstacle, which was dragged to block the way. The side exit was already covered with wooden boards made of spare planks.
It was closer to midnight when the horn sounded over the outpost again.
At long last, the second scout team returned.
Their belatedness was unfortunately not due to any encouraging discoveries. On the contrary. Not only had they found nothing, they had also suffered losses along the way. One horse was bitten by a non-basilisk but barely less venomous snake, couldn't walk, and had to be put down. One knight sank into a seemingly bottomless swamp hole and was never seen again. Another developed a sudden fever and was weakened to the point that he couldn't stay in the saddle. They had to craft a stretcher and carry him out.
Everyone knew what they signed up for, more or less, but the apathy brought by the first day's poor results couldn't be avoided. Nevertheless, the Emperor's representative obviously didn't even consider forfeiting.
The squad leaders shuffled the teams, replacing the more exhausted knights with fresh troops from the outpost guard. Everyone diligently maintained their gear and horses, and went to sleep after a meal, to prepare for the second round against the quiet but merciless woods.
Called to assist with the cooking again, Izumi stayed up late in the field kitchen set up near the stables, rationing meat and potato soup, cutting bread, and washing utensils, until finally relieved from her duties. She wasn't too pleased with her part, but neither did she know how to say no. The compulsive need to not be a burden on others was in her culture.
“My brave new adventurer life!” she mumbled, looking at her fingers wrinkled by the dish water, then gazing up to the pitch black sky, where light mizzle kept coming down. “Why did I have to be born a woman...?”
As she walked, Izumi was startled by a sudden cry coming from the direction of the tents on the eastern side, by the storage shed. A false alarm. It was only another soldier waking up from a nightmare. The knights at the watchtowers remained still, gazing out at the trees barely lit by the outpost's fires. Besides the noise made by the outpost's inhabitants, everything was quiet.
Too quiet, as the wizard had said.
“Guess I'll check up on the princess before bed...”
The prisoners' uncomfortable punishment would only end once the commander so said, and no hint of that was yet given. While they were allowed to take breaks to take care of their basic needs, Yuliana and Brian remain in chains. The guards watching over them kept the fire pit burning, so they didn't need to suffer from cold or wet clothes. Still, it wouldn't have been a punishment if spending an entire day in the same spot were pleasant.
“Isn't it enough already?” Izumi asked one of the guards. “At least let her sleep inside. I'll keep an eye on her.”
“I'm afraid these are our orders, ma'am,” the knight replied.
“Yes, please don't trouble yourself with me,” Yuliana said. “This is what I deserve. No, if we go by what I deserve, then it should be much, much, much worse than this. So I have no complaints, and neither do I require anything to ease this discomfort, thank you.”
“Were you that kind of character…? Still, it's not good for a girl's health to spend the night out in the rain. I know, I'll go have a word with Mira-rin and appeal for a reduced sentence.”
“Please! Don't trouble master this late at night! Not for my sake...”
“Yes, yes. You're going to become a real pain if this keeps up, so I'm going.”
Izumi left the prisoners and walked uphill to the cottage overlooking the slope.
There were two guards with spears stationed at the door and they weren't agreeable to her plans.
“The leaders are resting, we've orders not to let anyone in unless it's an emergency.”
“What is this if not an emergency?” Izumi retorted. “The cute princess is going to be stuck wallowing in self-pity for the rest of the trip. And catch a cold. Don't you feel sorry for her?”
“Er, her life is not in danger, is it? These are our orders. We cannot let you in. Sorry.”
“Wouldn't you say there are more important things in life than simply living it by whatever means? As a man, can you forgive yourself for leaving a young lady in the rain for the night? Is that your idea of chivalry?”
The knight was torn between her appeal and his duty.
“Madam, I understand your concerns, but—”
At that moment, the front door opened behind the guards. The colonel wasn't asleep yet and now appeared in the doorway, eyeing Izumi and the guards in annoyance.
“What is this debating about?”
“Oh, you were still awake?” Izumi greeted her cheerfully. “What a coincidence, there was something I was hoping to discuss with you, but these fine gentlemen won't take the hint.”
“As if I could sleep, with Attiker's snoring rocking the whole hut,” Miragrave sighed and stepped out. “What's the matter? Make it quick.”
“About the princess...”
“—Oh? You'd like to join her?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Eehh, that's not…”
“I'm not letting Yuliana go. End of discussion.”
“Why is that? You know, there's this thing called basic human empathy and camaraderie and so on. Either way, it's pitiful, and I may have to do something about it.”
The colonel stepped forward and looked at Izumi closer.
“You're quite faithful to her, despite being just a mercenary. Speaking of which, I still haven't heard who you are, exactly, or where you found that sword.”
“Oh? Grandpa didn't tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Um, never mind. It's nothing too important now, I think.”
“Whether it's important or not, leave that to my discretion,” Miragrave's gaze narrowed. “There's an odd air about you. I have not yet made up my mind whether you are an ally or an enemy. No, I should know better. It's the ones with a pretty face who are the most cunning. Well? How about it?”
“...Could it be, Mira-rin is the early-riser type who gets cranky when it's late?”
“I don't sleep much at all. Well, you jester? Will you answer me?”
“I try not to take sides, really. I'm an impartial observer!”
“Lies. Neutral people do not exist. Only cowards...and cutthroats. Did you really follow us for the princess? Or perhaps you had ulterior motives? And where is that third girl in your party? She disappeared as soon as reached the outpost and hasn't been seen since. Where is she, right now?”
“I don't know! Rather than me, you should blame bad parenting on her part. As for my plans, well...”
“Well?”
At that moment, the sound of a horn rang over the slope.
The knights at the watchtowers were equipped with the instruments, and had used them earlier in the day to signal the return of the scout squads. But there should've been no one left alive outside the walls at this time. Which meant that whatever the watchman had spotted couldn't be human, but neither was it a fox or any other harmless creature of the forest.
The resonant toot was quickly echoed by the other towers.
“ALARM!” The patrols at ground level called out, and soon enough, the whole settlement was bustling with activity again, regardless of the late timing. The knights donned their armors with commendable swiftness and were soon ready and awaiting further orders in agreed positions.
“What is it?” Colonel Miragrave forgot about Izumi and left to check the situation at the main entrance.
“Commander, you had better come see for yourself,” the knight who had made the sighting called down to her from the tower. “The wizard too. I lack the words to describe this.”
They traded places in the cramped southernmost tower and gazed out into the night encircling the outpost, in the torches' limited light. At first, it was difficult to see anything but black, but as their eyes slowly adjusted, their frowns soon deepened.
Amid the trees bordering the clearing, some three hundred feet from the wall, stood people.
If not an army, it could well be defined as a crowd. Dozens—if not hundreds—tall, dark, humanoid figures, side by side, all facing the outpost. They didn't seem like armed warriors. They lacked swords, spears, pitchforks and torches. With no more shields or armors or banners, they simply stood there in silence, a ghastly, empty-handed army of no lord.
“Yornwhal,” Miragrave said, “tell me you're seeing this and I've not gone mad.”
“I don't fault you for thinking so,” the wizard answered. “No mortal has seen such a sight since the days of Emperor Yollem. Yes, there can be no mistake. Dryads. Woodland elementals, a faerie army. It seems we have become something beyond a nuisance to our host.”
“Ma'am, we're surrounded on all sides,” the captain informed her. “And outnumbered, at least ten to one.”
“Can they be reasoned with?” the commander asked the old man. “Negotiate. Tell them it's not our wish to fight.”
“I fear the effort would be wasted. We're here for the fountain, they must know it...And I'm not sure they have ears.”
“Try it. Speak to them, see if they'll respond.”
The mage obediently stepped forward and addressed the stoic spirits in the distance, in the words of the Old Tongue.
“Hael, ellen lumibok! Oic sadra vi setelle domeno, nuest sacara ta divesta.”
He waited for a moment in silence, listening, but heard no response.
“Hoelle! Tue se? Náme rosta!”
Nature wasn't talkative today. The shady audience in the distance remained both mute and immobile. Yet, it was unlikely they had come only to innocently observe the outpost. The animosity was palpable. Miragrave leaned over the railing and called out to the knights waiting below.
“Archers, ready. A hundred yards.”
There were only thirty archers in the company. By no means enough to stop an assault from all sides, but the foes behind the palisade couldn't know that. Perhaps a rain of arrows would still make the enemy change their minds about the offensive. No one could tell how effective the tactic was going to be, but neither did they dare to think what would happen if it weren't.
Then, without a warning, the floodgate was broken.
As if a soundless war horn had been blown, the dryads began their assault.
They didn't run like bloodthirsty barbarians, or bewildered beasts, but walked on steadily, like so many woodcutters returning home after a day's hard work.
The circle of figures around the outpost was slowly, but steadily shrinking.
“Hold!”
Watching their approach with devilish patience, colonel Miragrave waited until the distance was right, before giving the command.
“Now! Fire!”
The thirty archers released their arrows. As veterans of their trade, they didn't need to confirm the distance with their own eyes; the angle of the arrow and the direction of the wind sufficed to tell them where the shafts would land. The only ones hindered by the wall between the opponents were the invaders.
A commendable number of the projectiles hit a target too, thanks to their slow, cluttered advance.
However, the psychological effect was left short of the desired. The deadly greeting invoked no cries of terror or agony among the enemy ranks. To everyone's confusion, the eerie silence was preserved uninterrupted. What was worse, the enemy's progress wasn't stalled in the least. Even now, the unsettling men of the forest continued to step forward, up the slope.
The reason was simple, and soon apparent to anyone, as the attackers came closer to the light. Unlike how they had seemed from a distance, the dryads were in no way identical to humans in anatomy. Their bodies weren't made of flesh and bones and blood, but of naked wood and nothing but. They didn't speak, seeing as they had no mouths, and neither did they have eyes, and no discernible ears either, as the wizard had guessed. Looking at one's face, you'd have as much luck seeing a familiar face as you would when staring at random clutter in the forest. The dryads' long, wavy limbs were like branches, with wriggly roots for toes and fingers. The arrows had stuck to their thick torsos like they would've at regular target boards, and no more deadly.
“Damn it, how do you fight them?” Miragrave asked the wizard.
“They're spirits using wood as their medium. As such, I fear they have no easily exploited weakness. The whole vessel has to be destroyed to banish the spirit within. Though severing their limbs is probably enough to temporarily disable them.”
“We need something more substantial than that, with these numbers. Tell me you know fire magic.”
“I know a few spells of that nature, yes, but...Do keep in mind that our defenses, houses and everything around us is also made of wood. I would prefer to keep flames to moderation, or we might perish together with our foes.”
The first of the dryads reached the moat outside the palisade.
Ignoring the sharpened sticks set at the bottom, they crawled up to the poles and started to climb up along them. Even without any footholds, their wooden fingers and toes clung to the logs and dragged their unfeeling bodies up, slowly but surely.
“Do what you can,” Miragrave told the wizard.
The commander herself jumped down from the watchtower and instructed the troops.
“Grab spears! Poles! Anything with reach, and spread out! Don't let them vault over the wall!”
The knights hurried to form a defensive line around the camp and changed their bows for long arms. As the dryads eventually reached the top of the palisade, they quickly knocked them back out with their spears.
For some time, the battle proceeded with almost comical ease.
But dismissing the dryads as brainless fodder for their appearance and conduct was a dangerous mistake to make. The woodmen suddenly tightened their grips on the wall, and human strength was no longer enough to easily throw them off. And the longer was spent peeling one invader from the wall, the more time its allies had to slip past and drop inside.
A number of knights now had to draw their swords and enter close combat, to protect the ones defending the walls.
Fortunately, the dryad's bodies weren't quite as tough as regular trees. Of course, unless their limbs were suitably soft and flexible, moving them at all would've been impossible. So long as enough force was applied, even a regular sword could hack through them. The torso and head were more resilient to attacks, but striking them was a waste of time to begin with, since they had no heart or otherwise essential organs to protect. So long as they were properly dismembered, the threat was eliminated.
But again, the theoretical simplicity of it all failed to translate to ease of application.
One knight struck his opponent carelessly and as a result, his weapon became stuck in the side of the wooden body. As he struggled to pull it off, the dryad, not feeling any earthly pain, reached out and caught the unfortunate warrior's head in its grip. He thought he was safe in his armor, but shortly discovered he'd made a mistake. Softness and flexibility doesn't necessarily mean weakness and fragility.
“AAARGGHHH!”
To the horror of everyone nearby, the hold of the wooden arms continued to tighten with increasing power, like a vice, slowly crushing the helmet and the man inside, like a can of tomato soup. Even as his comrades desperately cut at the dryad's body, it stubbornly held on.
Similar fatalities were soon occurring everywhere in the besieged fort.
The wooden fingers weren't nimble but sank through bare flesh like a fork in a pudding, wherever they could find it. An arm or a leg caught in a dryad's hold was easily broken, regardless of armoring. Ignoring the crippled bodies that had started to pile up on the ground could prove deadly. So long as even one limb remained, they'd continue to drag themselves forward until decisively hacked into pieces. A lot of knights threw off their helmets to see better in the lacking lighting. It increased their reactions and mobility, but also risked an easy death.
Even as the imperials cut down the invaders in far greater numbers, the inhuman assault showed no signs of relenting. The elementals continued to advance, and slowly push back the defenders.
“Yoten! Mavia alase!”
The court wizard Yornwhal cast orbs of fire at the enemies outside, setting a great many of them ablaze. But the spell's casting speed was slow and the reach too short to hold back the massive tide. The enemies were spread too far and wide for a solitary cannon to force them back. Worse yet, even as they were on fire, the woodmen kept coming. So long as there remained just a faint hint of vitality in their charred limbs, they would drag themselves onward. As the old man had predicted, having the burning enemies hug the wooden palisade and spread the flames soon became dangerous on its own. If a hole was made in the wall, they would be overrun. Yornwhal eventually had to abandon his post at the watchtower and retreat, as the defenders couldn't hold the ground around him anymore.
A number of knights were focused at the entrance, where the dryads struggled to get through the spiky roadblock. The Langorian princess and her knight before the gate were mostly safe, but remained chained. As the walls in the southeast and southwest were lost, their position turned precarious. No one had the time to pay attention to them. None of the knights, that is.
“Don't move.”
Izumi took no part in the action, but watched over her friends. Now, seeing that the situation wasn't improving in any way, she took her sword and swung it. The blade, forged from an unknown metal thousands of years ago, bit through the steel chains with ease and Yuliana was freed. Only a bit reluctantly, the woman freed Sir Mallory as well.
“What should we do?” Izumi asked Yuliana. “I don't like RTS games very much, so can I leave the thinking to you? Maybe we should run now?”
“We're besieged, there's no way out,” the princess thought while rubbing her wrists. “We have no choice but to do our part in the outpost's defense, to whatever end. Is it all right, if I leave the gate to you for a while? I need to go consult with master.”
“Try to make it quick, okay? It's kinda boring to fight something if they don't bleed or scream.”
“...I'll pretend I did not just hear that.”