25: Exiled Lord — Chapter 25 – Bloodbath!
The Nighttime Attacker 25: Exiled Lord — Chapter 25 – Bloodbath!
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Field spat out the half-chewed chunk of apple and burst out laughing.
Someone had actually gone for that ugly female monster.
Absolutely absurd.
Same as modern tastes, as long as it was female, someone out there would want it.
He wiped away the tears squeezed out by his own cackling and grew genuinely curious.
Did corruption cause reproductive isolation between humans?
“Poor Steel Fork.
In the end, he died from festering below the waist.
His prize finch turned into a disgusting lump of tumors, and he suffered terribly before passing.
Corruption is the devil’s curse after all — Steel Fork probably won’t make it to heaven.
Aside from those chosen by the gods, I doubt any living creature can resist it.” Field closed the book.
Wall-to-wall subjective language.
He had no desire to keep reading.
“Lucas can only be called an adventurer or an explorer.
As a scholar, he lacks rigor.
Not all living things are incapable of resisting corruption — plants, at minimum, can.” He thought of the green plants collected from Rum Village.
No chunks of flesh.
No tentacles.
“Ah!” A scream from outside the window.
Field’s hand jolted, nearly sending the teacup he’d been raising to his lips flying.
Steaming tea sloshed down onto him.
The burn was bad enough, but soaked clothes in the Nightfall Fief were nearly impossible to dry.
He checked the mini-map.
No skull markers.
“Another unruly idiot who couldn’t keep it in his pants.” Field rubbed his temple.
With the slaves all packed together, violence and coercion were bound to happen sooner or later.
Even the whip couldn’t change base nature.
Slaves had no right to mate, but most of them couldn’t even get enough food.
They had no mental space left for anything else.
“My lord!” Rapid footsteps in the hallway.
The manservant Crock pounded urgently on the door.
“Come in.
What is it?” Field crossed to the window and glanced down.
Still pitch black outside.
Torches had been raised on the ground level, but all he could make out were panicked faces clustered around the firelight.
This was more serious.
“My lord, great trouble has come to our territory!” Field felt a spike of anxiety, but kept his voice steady.
“Don’t panic.
Tell me what kind of trouble.” “Bandits!
Armed bandits attacked our territory!” Crock was still young, he couldn’t contain his terror.
His hands, braced against the floor, shook like he had Parkinson’s.
“Several slaves went to the farmland to relieve themselves and were suddenly attacked by bandits charging out of the gray fog.
They used spears to kill two of them — and they took a female slave!” Field stepped forward.
“They didn’t press the attack?
They chose to retreat?” “Yes.
They left immediately.” “God damn it!” Field spat.
Planned retreat meant some degree of intelligence behind it.
That he could run into actual bandits in this godforsaken, toxin-soaked dump of a place, was there anything more absurd?
Unless it was his “lovely” stepmother and half-siblings.
Possible.
If they got their hands on intelligence about the Chosen One, things would get very dangerous.
He checked the mini-map again.
Nothing unusual.
That reminded him of Connor’s cavalry.
The exclamation marks had only appeared once they closed to a certain distance.
The mini-map’s warning range was limited, then.
Only Chosen Ones and corrupted creatures got detected from further out.
“Notify the others.
Have everyone shelter on the ground floor of the big winery.” Field lifted his longsword down from the rack and headed briskly for the stairs.
“I’m going in pursuit.” Ashina was already downstairs examining the corpses.
When she saw him come down, she immediately dipped her head.
“I’ve disturbed your rest.
Letting enemies enter the territory, that’s my failure.” “It’s not your failure.
The territory doesn’t even have walls yet.
Infiltration was always possible.” Ashina had fought all day.
Missing something due to exhaustion was perfectly normal.
Field crouched beside the body and pulled aside the tattered, reeking linen clothing.
He tilted his head.
“The abdominal wound, the angle of entry is upward.
Were these bandits dwarves?” “Strange, isn’t it.” Ashina rubbed her smooth chin and tapped her foot in a steady rhythm.
The pale flesh of her thigh quivered faintly, small habitual movements kept her focused.
“They might not be human.
Troublesome dwarves, maybe.” The worst of Field’s anxiety eased a little.
Not yet.
“Ashina, can your wolf pick up their scent?” Using a dragon-seed dire wolf as a tracker.
Sounded ridiculous when he thought about it.
Ashina smacked her forehead.
“How did I not think of that?” “Take me with you.
I need to see exactly what kind of wretches dare hit my territory.” Field ground his teeth.
He was nothing like his predecessor.
“I’m going to hack their heads off.” Ashina had spent enough time with him to know exactly what that meant.
She smiled.
“Of course!
I am your sword!” The dire wolf sniffed the corpse several times.
Then its deep blue, slit-pupiled eyes locked onto the northeast.
“They fled that way.” Good, not south.
The enemy might truly not be human.
CLANG-JANGLE-RATTLE.
A dozen or so slave guards stumbled out in disheveled clothes, several still strapping on their armor, eyes half-lidded and bleary.
Field’s mouth twitched.
He wanted to curse them out, but stopped himself.
Don’t expect soldiers from this era to operate like the military back home, instant response, zero delay.
Without question, the guards had been sleeping deeply, and by the time Field was ready to move out, most of them were still in dreamland.
“Hold the territory.
Don’t let them loop back for a second strike.” He had no intention of bringing them anyway.
Pursuit was about speed.
By the time this lot finished assembling, the enemy would be long gone.
Still.
Discipline training goes on the agenda starting tomorrow.
A slovenly army had no fighting strength, couldn’t even hold a basic perimeter.
Ashina pulled Field up onto the dire wolf’s back.
With the mini-map running, the chances of riding into an ambush dropped significantly.
Steadier than any horse, that was Field’s first impression the moment he settled in.
Riding a horse wasn’t hard once you found your seat; plenty of experienced riders could doze off in the saddle, since the horse at least had enough sense to keep going.
But Ashina’s dragon-seed wolf was steadier still.
The jagged scales along its back didn’t bite into the rider, they contracted and sealed together automatically, fitting flush like machined parts.
“Move out!” They plunged into the gray fog at full sprint.
The world blurred around him.
Wind screamed past his ears.
The wolf’s speed was staggering, practically a subway car tearing through underground dark.
Less than 4 minutes later, Ashina had found them, deep in the corrupted woods.
➤ Next: Gray Fog Goblins