Intermission 2 — Fight of the Drake Marksmen Knights

While Zenjirou was being put through the wringer by the two foreign royals, the men under General Pujol’s command were exterminating swarm raptors approaching from the sides of the remote road.

“Fire,” the general commanded his men.

The dash-drake-mounted archers loosed arrows at his signal.

“Gaaah?!”

Scores of arrows found their way deep into the raptors’ flesh. Some stuck into the surrounding trees while others fell short into the grass, but the majority found their targets.

“Whoa...so these are the Drake Marksmen,” Xavier murmured in wonder, watching the fight from farther away.

The men under his command were escorting the salt as promised, so they were not participating in the current battle. Of course, in addition to their escort duties, any swarm raptors that approached would be their responsibility. From the current state of the battle, however, it seemed they would have no opportunity to make use of their weapons.

Xavier, despite his presence on the field, was mostly an onlooker as he watched the clash. The fight was essentially within his expectations. Spearmen were keeping the raptors in check, and soldiers next to them with greatshields would handle defense if it came to it. The main offensive was the archers behind them firing arrows.

The strategy was much the same as his own army had employed when they had fought the swarm. But there were two main differences. The first was that the archers were, as their name Drake Marksmen implied, still on drakeback as they fired. The second was that the shielding troops had yet to be employed even once.

“How do they keep the drakes under such tight control with all that roaring?”

It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t believe his eyes. Dash drakes were herbivores, prey to the carnivorous swarm raptors. Well-trained dash drakes wouldn’t flee, but seeing the archers with both hands off the reins and their feet in the stirrups as they fired from their mounts was still shocking. The drakes were moving precisely as the archers wished despite the lack of reins being used. The archers themselves had unstable footing in the form of the stirrups and were unable to brace themselves, and yet they were firing accurately.

On top of that, the majority of the bows were wyvern bows—weapons that normal soldiers would struggle to draw even on stable ground. If it were just one or two of them, Xavier would have simply shrugged it off as a few impressive individuals, but that over a hundred archers were displaying such skill left him lost for words.

“Josep,” he said to the knight at his side, not tearing his gaze from the fight.

“Yes?” his father’s confidant answered.

“Could your men do the same?”

“They could,” the veteran told his young commander plainly. “Without issue. Frankly, they are not quite skilled enough to be called Drake Marksmen, considering the fame that name carries throughout the Southern Continent. They were half-destroyed in the war, so considering the short time they have had to build up their numbers again, it is rather impressive, although it is somewhat disheartening for those of us who saw them fight before.”

“They were that much better?!” His adviser’s reply was enough to make Xavier forget that he was on the battlefield and cry out in shock.

“They were. By the standards of the wartime marksmen, I would be lower middle class, but if I were to join their current incarnation, I would probably be lower upper class. Well, the young knights merely lack experience and training; they have decent potential. General Pujol will have them up to wartime standards before long, I imagine.”

That was a clear estimation of Pujol Guillén’s military accomplishments from someone who had witnessed them first-hand. Josep and Pujol had both attained fame in the war, so it would hardly have been surprising for the two to have marched in step. Xavier made a mental note to ask, if he ever got the chance, returning his focus to the fight in front of him.

“I understand the skill involved, but why does the general have them attack while mounted? However skilled they may be, it must lower their accuracy. I doubt someone of General Pujol’s caliber would give those instructions just as a form of training.”

The veteran knight answered his young commander’s question immediately. “It is done to get a better angle. Firing a bow from the dash drake allows you to shoot arrows horizontally over the shielders’ and spearmen’s heads.”

“Oh, I see,” Xavier answered, abashed and ruddy-cheeked at this simple fact being pointed out to him.

Josep was right. Now that Xavier looked again, the archers were firing without concern for the spearmen and shielders. If the archers were on the ground, they would have had far fewer chances to shoot. Getting to higher ground was a fundamental tactic for archery in battle.

Xavier lamented his narrow-mindedness at seeing the drakes merely as a method of transportation. As he shook his head slightly, he heard a unique roar from the dense trees that he had heard once before.

“Grrrrrghee!”

“Sir Xavier!”

“Right, it’s there!”

Josep and Xavier turned as one to see it. The creature was large enough that it looked like one could reach out and touch it, despite it being much farther behind the other raptors.

It was the abnormally large swarm raptor leading the likewise abnormal pack.

Naturally, the Capuan commander didn’t overlook its presence and issued instructions to the men he had on standby.

“Fourth squad, target to the forward-right. Fire.”

However, the massive drake’s reaction was faster than the elite knights could put their orders into practice. The men wheeled their drakes around and fired, but the creature had already vanished into the thick greenery.

“Keeee!”

“Gyahah!”

All at once, the other raptors began to cry out.

“We need not pursue it; our priority here is transporting the salt. Remain on guard, though,” the general ordered.

“Sir!” the men’s responses rang out.

Nothing unusual happened after that until the wary general gave the all-clear to relax their guard.

“Deal with the bodies on the road; we will resume our march once in formation again. Any problems?”

“No, General, we are all unharmed!” Xavier answered as he came to attention. Pujol had come to give him the responsibility of the cleanup.

It was true; Xavier’s men hadn’t been harmed in the slightest, which was only to be expected considering not one of them had needed to draw their weapons.

“I see. We also had no losses, though we did use more ammunition than expected. I would like to resupply once we reach the march. Can I leave the arrangements to you?”

Xavier threw his shoulders back at the question.

“Please do! Our family’s merchant is in the closest village to the salt road. You should be able to resupply as you wish without a long wait.”

Pujol paused before letting out an impressed murmur as his eyebrow rose. “Lord Xavier, you headed straight for the royal lands during your expedition, did you not? So were these arrangements in place beforehand?”

“They were. The preparations were to allow the salt to be distributed as quickly as possible if the subjugation were to take longer than expected.”

The general let out another impressed noise after a pause. The young lord had paved the way for the materials to be distributed without delay if things went badly, even before he had set out.

His action had pros and cons, considering that if things had gone well, it would have been a needless expense, but it was evident that General Pujol saw it as praiseworthy.

“A fine judgment. That will be helpful.”

“Sir!”

The young heir smiled broadly as the praise left the great war hero’s lips.