Chapter 40
The shouts of merchants who had sensed something was wrong rang out, and soon the carriages began to pick up speed.
The wheels roared, and the horses’ pounding hooves thundered across the grassland.
-Thud-thud-thud-thud!
The violent jolting sent some passengers crouching with their hands over their heads.
The screams of terrified passengers filled the cargo compartment.
The grassland rushing past the window now looked like nothing but waves of green, and the unchanging horizon made it seem as though the horses were racing across that sea.
Ivar pulled two straight-bladed military swords from his backpack.
The silver blades emerged above their sleek black hilts, and his nerves settled.
Approaching Lise, he shouted to the passengers.
“Heads down! Move inside!”
Lise accepted the sword and said,
“Ivar, protect the drivers.”
“Understood.”
He glared at the enemies visible in the distance through the window.
After confirming that the distance was closing, he opened the door to the driver's compartment, his expression hardening.
Wood splintered with a loud crack behind him, but Lise's orders were absolute.
Two merchants, their robes pulled over their heads, were sitting in the driver's compartment.
One merchant held the reins, while the other gripped a crossbow and watched behind them.
Ivar said,
“Is this as fast as we can go? We're being surrounded!”
The one watching behind them turned around.
“I know! I have eyes, don't I?”
“Are we just going to let them get this close? What's our plan? Are we firing back?”
The man lowered his aim and looked at Ivar for a moment.
“Listen, we're a caravan, not soldiers. You didn't think you were boarding a war carriage, did you? Besides, monsters are chasing us. If we dawdle trying to fight back, we'll be surrounded before we know it.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“How should I know? They'll make the call up front.”
The carriage Ivar was riding in was at the very back of the procession.
The merchant fired his crossbow toward the rear.
Then he clicked his tongue and scowled.
“They're watching and dodging, damn it.”
As if in answer to his shot, a shower of arrows rained down on the carriage.
The sound of arrows ripping through the air came from far away, then they pattered against the carriage's exterior like hail.
Screams burst out from inside the carriage.
“This is insane.”
Taking cover in the driver's compartment, the merchant's hand trembled as he pulled the cocking lever.
He was fairly old and seemed accustomed to life on the road, but this situation looked entirely new to him.
Ivar asked,
“Is this your first time seeing them?”
“I've crossed the grasslands for over ten years, but I've never seen monsters like those. Or did some idiot mate with a horse? At first glance, I thought they were bandits on horseback.”
“They're not monsters. They're another race.”
They seemed unfamiliar to people in this border region, but they were a familiar enemy to Southerners.
A warlike race that lived in the sacred forest in the south and attacked humans.
Centaurs.
Some twenty half-men, half-horses had crossed the vast distance to hunt them on the winter grasslands of the far north.
**
The monsters of the grasslands traveled along fixed routes, attacking people, but never left the grasslands.
Danis was about to order them to change course and flee south when the blonde girl interrupted him.
From the driver's compartment, Danis asked,
“They're not monsters?”
“That's right, Captain. They're living creatures, not monsters. I think they'll keep chasing us even if we leave the grasslands.”
“Good grief. They look like that, and they aren't monsters? Anyone would think a demon had made them.”
“Even so, they're an unmistakable demi-human race. They have a hereditary dynasty and even a priestly class.”
“A dynasty? Hah! What do those high-and-mighty people want? Monsters are chasing them, so they won't have time to raid us. Is there no way out? Are we just supposed to take their attacks?”
At the question of why,
Enya's face darkened for an instant.
But she soon smiled brightly, as if nothing had happened, and said,
“Captain, would you like me to help?”
**
The merchants felt a chill run down their spines when Ivar suddenly swung his sword.
“Aah!”
As the merchants crouched in alarm at the sword sweeping over their heads, Ivar was batting away the arrows flying toward the driver's compartment.
With a metallic clang, broken arrows fell beneath the driver's compartment.
The merchant stared at him, eyes wide.
“I-Incredible! How did you do that?”
“Just a little trick. They're still a good distance away.”
Ivar glared at the archer, but the centaur calmly reached for its quiver and simply increased the distance between them.
When one drew closer, Ivar saw that the centaur was armed with a huge bow, leather armor covering its entire body, and a halberd.
The centaurs changed direction irregularly or slowed down, and each time the arrows fired from the carriages cut pointlessly through the air.
They could approach and pull away freely, dodging the arrows with ease.
They were the very embodiment of man and horse as one.
A spark flashed in Ivar's eyes as he faced a centaur that had drawn close.
He growled viciously.
“You half-horse bastard, and you're laughing at me?”
With a human upper body, the centaur's expression was easy to see.
The centaur, whose dark gray hair hung like a mane, looked at him and sneered.
Ivar wanted to leap down and charge at once, but if he did, he would become a target on the exposed plain.
Even if he fought back with everything he had, he would only end up swallowed by the horde of monsters.
This was a hopeless running battle, and all he had was a single self-defense sword—the only kind of weapon he could bring into a city.
Frustrated, Ivar shouted toward the carriage ahead.
“Form a curtain of arrows! Fire a volley!”
Even as he spoke, he didn't think the merchants would be able to do it.
They would need to align their lines of fire, and unless the centaurs were fools, that was impossible from carriages traveling in a single file.
He was reaching for the spear in the driver's compartment to try throwing it when—
The whoosh of an arrow.
An arrow traced a great arc through the air.
It flew high, but seemed not to have enough force behind it, moving so slowly it was frustrating to watch.
The enemy it was aimed at seemed to think so, too.
It was the centaur who had been sneering at Ivar.
With the same mocking expression, the centaur slightly changed course.
It was trying to dodge the arrow.
It can't dodge that.
**
The centaur pitched forward onto the grass with a heavy rumble.
-Rumble!
Grass and dust billowed into the air, obscuring the view.
He'd hoped the enemy in front would fall and cause a chain collision, but the centaurs widened the gaps with agility no ordinary horse could match, avoiding getting tangled up.
“Didn't work?”
Enya clicked her tongue as she watched their coordinated movements.
Then she spotted four centaurs near the rear of the group coming to a stop, and her eyes lit up.
“It worked! They're looking after the wounded!”
They broke from the formation and quickly fell behind with the fallen centaur.
Tarmin climbed onto the driver's seat, aimed his next arrow, and said,
“Really?”
“Yeah! They seem to know monsters are approaching. They can't just leave the wounded to deal with later. And centaurs are heavy, so one or two wouldn't be enough. You took out five with a single arrow.”
Enya held onto Tarmin's legs to keep him from falling from the driver's seat while he had both hands free.
Instead of answering, Tarmin smoothly loosed the bowstring.
He wasn't aiming for vital spots protected by armor, but for the lower hind legs and shins.
His goal was to take out their legs and rob them of their mobility.
He made the shot look as though it were coming from an easy direction to dodge.
One centaur tried to evade the arrow with a light sidestep, and met the same fate.
-Rumble!
The fallen centaur looked more bewildered than pained.
It had never expected an arrow to hit beneath its armor, which was like horse barding.
“By your count, does that make ten now?”
Another arrow shot forth with a whoosh.
Enya bounced with joy, slapping Tarmin's legs.
“I knew it! Your bow isn't useless! You used to spend your time digging up rabbit holes with a skill like this? If only you hadn't given up, you could've been incredible!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Tarmin chuckled and patted the excited Enya on the head.
Enya didn't seem to mind him patting her head; she kept her eyes on the enemies.
The enemies had sensed something was wrong and were already several hundred meters away.
The centaurs were giving up the chase and coming to a stop.
They wouldn't be able to keep pursuing while carrying their wounded.
Like Danis, they probably thought they should leave the grasslands for now.
By the time they moved the wounded and returned, they would be more than a day's journey behind the caravan.
When the drivers realized the enemies had retreated, they let out a triumphant cheer.
“Hooray!”
**
Lise stood in front of the carriage's shattered door, blocking the spear thrusting at her.
The centaur facing off against her looked twice as large as the others, and its face—which would normally be handsome for its race—was covered in scars.
It thrust at her relentlessly through the narrow carriage opening.
The difference in reach left Lise no chance to counterattack.
The huge golden halberd looked vicious enough to tear her apart if it so much as grazed her.
The spearhead carved deep gouges into the cargo compartment, but Lise skillfully deflected its strikes with her sword.
She even had enough composure to glance at the grassland over her enemy's shoulder now and then.
She heard the caravaners cheering and saw the enemies rapidly pulling away.
“Your friends are getting farther away.”
“Graaah!”
In an instant, the halberd was raised with an angry shout.
The axe blade attached to its tip flashed.
Startled by the force with which the centaur seemed ready to cleave the entire carriage in two, Lise braced herself.
“Uh, if you swing that thing, you could hurt the horse harnessed to this carriage. Are you okay with that?”
The raised axe blade slowly lowered without striking.
The huge centaur was slowing down.
The centaur pointed the tip of the spear at Lise.
“There will come a day when we meet again, Benoa.”
“…”
The centaur lowered the golden spear, stopped running, and moved away.
Lise sighed and murmured softly.
“You horse-loving pervert.”