The Rural Officer Who Was Once a General

Part 1, Chapter 17

Ka-ga-ga-gang!

Dual blades filled with murderous intent and a heavy axe clashed in a metallic harmony.

“Hoo.”

Tryaev narrowed his eyes and pulled back his two swords.

Then he calmly observed his opponent.

Nearly two meters tall, with muscular arms thicker than the thighs of regular soldiers, and a body overflowing with combative aggression from head to toe—

Karun looked every bit the image of a true warrior.

It might be insulting to say, but if he had been born not in the Empire but in some barbarian land, he likely would’ve held a high position.

Of course, Karun had always looked like that.

His skill has finally caught up.

Though he had always been among the top fighters in the Aide unit, in Tryaev’s eyes now, Karun appeared to be an entirely different being.

As expected, our junior is a madman.

Tryaev twisted his dual swords in his grip and locked eyes with Karun.

“Coming!”

Karun kicked off the ground with power and shot toward Tryaev.

Tryaev widened the distance between his feet as much as possible in his stance.

Left hand forward, right hand behind.

It was a simple motion, but in Tryaev’s mind, it was the most appropriate posture.

“Rya-rya!”

Karun brought down his axe with force.

“Hm!”

Tryaev lightly flicked his left hand.

The left sword shot out and collided with the axe.

Crack!

The axe, twisted midair with Karun’s full body strength, held far more power than Tryaev had anticipated.

With a mighty blow, the left sword was knocked away helplessly.

“Ho.”

Tryaev let out a laugh tinged with surprise as he twisted his waist.

At the same time, his rear foot pushed forward and his right hand shot ahead.

The right sword struck the face of Karun’s axe, twisting its trajectory.

Tang!

Tryaev threw his left foot behind him and returned his twisted waist to its original position.

Naturally, his body rotated, floating diagonally in the air.

Ka-ga-ga-ga!

Tryaev’s dual swords, alternating, unleashed a flurry of strikes at Karun.

Like blades mounted on a spinning log, relentless and giving no room to breathe.

It was a technique Tryaev often used in battle.

“Hrrmph!”

Karun held his ground, blocking the blades with the wide face of his axe.

Taat.

As Tryaev’s spin came to an end and his feet landed back on the ground, Karun launched his counterattack.

“Haaah!”

The axe blade swung powerfully downward, aiming for the top of Tryaev’s head.

Tryaev bent his upper body and brought his two swords side by side in an upward motion.

Tschwaang!

The weapons clashed with a spray of sparks before returning to their masters' grips.

“Phew…”

Tryaev caught his breath, rubbing his wrist.

Astonishing.

A twitch appeared at the corner of Tryaev’s lips.

If I’m not careful, I might actually lose.

He blamed his neglected training due to administrative duties, his aging body, and the edge dulled by time away from the battlefield. He threw both arms behind him.

“Hrrmph!”

With a sharp breath, Tryaev shot forward at high speed.

Karun clenched his teeth and swung his axe to meet the arrow-like charge.

Power comes from the lower body, technique from the upper.

One of the countless scoldings he had heard from Fade during training resurfaced in Karun’s mind as he moved.

Though in truth, the axe swing had come before the thought. It was a motion so ingrained in him that no thought was needed—just a clean strike that filled Tryaev’s field of vision.

But Tryaev didn’t hesitate. He threw his body forward.

Sssht.

Tryaev suddenly slowed and drove his foot into the ground.

Whoosh!

His arms, extended from inertia, and the twin swords they held, transformed into whips of iron as they met the axe.

Ka-ga-ga-gang!

Their weapons collided with a thunderous clang.

Once again, neither weapon triumphed, and both were knocked away.

“Hrgh!”

Using the rebound, Karun reversed the force and struck upward with the axe handle toward Tryaev’s chin.

“Hah!”

Tryaev dodged by folding his waist, letting the axe handle glide past. Then, continuing the motion, he lowered his upper body further and raised his leg.

What he naturally targeted was Karun’s chin.

“Krrgh!”

Karun groaned in pain and collapsed as he took a sudden blow to the chin from Tryaev’s plated boot.

Even sturdy armor couldn’t fully protect his jaw.

“Well done. Fighting you was tough. I can’t guarantee a win next time.”

Tryaev sheathed his swords at his waist and patted Karun on the shoulder.

“……”

Karun, worn out from the duel, said nothing and caught his breath heavily.

“Someone get that damn armor off him.”

At Blathyun’s gesture, a few soldiers approached and began removing Karun’s heavy armor piece by piece.

His underclothes were soaked with sweat, and Karun quickly threw off his upper garment.

His abdomen, covered in brutal muscle, was heaving desperately up and down as if begging for mercy.

“What do you think?”

Tryaev took off his leather armor, wiped off his sweat with a towel, and stood next to Blathyun.

His mouth and throat still felt like they had a metallic taste.

"Damn, a madman has emerged. He seems very different from when I first saw him."

In the time it took for the moon to complete one cycle, that Karun guy's skills had improved significantly.

At this rate, given more time, neither he nor Tryaev might be able to handle him.

“Is it the potential of youth? Or the teachings of our sly junior?”

“Who the hell are you calling your junior?”

“Huh?”

“Fade’s my junior. Not yours. You dual-sword wielder.”

“Wow, drawing lines like that now? And don’t you use dual swords too, you idiot?”

“Shouldn’t you be commanding construction instead of wasting time watching sparring matches?”

“It’s been fifteen days, dumbass.”

"So you've completely given up?"

“Excuse me? Are you not even considering the possibility that the great and competent Captain Blathyun might have completed the mission successfully in fifteen days?”

“I’d sooner believe wine rains from the sky.”

"What did you say, you little—?"

"So how's the construction going?"

"...The watchtowers are all built, and the Sticky Rats are currently doing the final checks."

“Sticky rats, huh…”

Tryaev shook his head.

He felt bad for those five rangers under that guy.

Who names their squad something like ‘Sticky Rats’?

“The traps are just about wrapped up, and the slope adjustment on the second line of defense is done. Right now we’re working on buildings, fences, towers, palisades, stone outposts… that kind of stuff.”

Blathyun let out a deep sigh.

“Our infantry are all reassigned to transport materials, and the engineers have been pulling all-nighters building stuff. The cursing and groaning coming from there are worse than on the battlefield."

“I heard the first stronghold is ridiculously big.”

“Yeah, bigger than this place. We’ve already started moving supplies over, but our unit alone isn’t enough, so we’ve had to throw in the new infantry recruits too. Weapons, stones, oil, food… You ever try hauling two hundred sleeping bags? You’ll immediately realize how damn heavy blankets are.”

Blathyun continued speaking without pause.

“Goddamn catapults and ballistae—think they’re fine just ‘cause they’ve got wheels? Bullshit, they’re a terrible to push. And the second stronghold is on a hill!”

They’d tried to level the rear as much as possible for resupply, but siege weapons were so heavy that even that didn’t help much.

“Those goddamn things fall apart if they get damp, and the wood cracks if they dry out. And the stones and spears we launch—what, you think our ancestors help us lift ‘em? And those damn arrows. You know how many of those we need? A shitload. And you know what happens then? It all gets fucking heavy!”

Blathyun vented all his bitterness without holding back.

Tryaev, while watching the infantry begin their siege weapon training, simply listened to his comrade’s pain-filled grumbling.

“And then our dear junior—maybe he learned warfare from some old bard—decided to bring in a fire cart, something they stopped using in the South twenty years ago. Do you even know how hard it is to manage gunpowder? Huh? This is my first time seeing the real thing! And on our first encounter, the damn thing nearly blew me to pieces!”

“Gunpowder, huh? Must’ve cost a lot. General Pippin really opened the purse strings. Also, for the hundredth time, he’s my junior. Not yours.”

“Tsk, so cold. Anyway, at this point, it’s just a matter of throwing more labor at the job. Doesn’t need my direct supervision anymore.”

“Then why don’t you go manage that precious gunpowder yourself?”

“Damn it, I’m already fed up with that fire cart, now you want me to—”

BOOOOM!

A thunderous explosion echoed, and nearly a hundred arrows embedded themselves in one of the walls of the training yard.

“Did you see that just now?!”

Blathyun’s eyes widened so much they nearly popped out.

He hadn’t even been focused, but he barely saw the arrows fly through the air at all.

“I saw it. It was impressive.”

Tryaev wasn’t quite as shocked as Blathyun, but he was still thoroughly impressed.

“Why isn’t this kind of weapon more widely used?”

Tryaev frowned in curiosity.

A revolutionary weapon that could let a few infantrymen do the work of a hundred archers.

“It’s unfortunate, but the drawbacks are pretty clear.”

Fade said, clicking his tongue as he came to stand beside Tryaev.

“As you can see, the firepower is strong. But it’s terribly inefficient. You have to attach gunpowder to every single arrow, which means the arrows are all single-use. Then there’s transport, it’s difficult. And maintenance is a nightmare. Not to mention the strict limits on firing angle and range.”

“Well, yeah… even if you fire a hundred shots, maybe it takes down ten guys?”

It wasn’t like the enemy would be dumb enough to stand still and take a volley head-on.

“It’s far more efficient to use cannons, less gunpowder, less effort. And those things last longer.”

Fade’s eyes dimmed with a bitter look.

Even forty years ago, this so-called fire cart had fallen out of favor.

Let alone now.

It was a money-eating beast of a weapon, and there was already a perfect replacement in the form of cannons.

But there’s one absolute strength it has…

Instant firepower.

If prepared properly, it could unleash volley after volley—thousands of arrows raining down nonstop.

Of course, the firing range was narrow, and enemies rarely gathered that densely. But Fade had confidence.

His specialty was denying the enemy their ideal choices and forcing them into the worst possible ones.

He could already picture the steppe soldiers dropping like porcupines stuck full of arrows.

Fade’s lips curled upward. The thought of giving those barbarians a taste of true civilization was far too delightful to hide.

“All that’s left now is to wait.”

Once this stillness ended, an unforgettable stench of blood would coat the forest.

And that blood—would most certainly belong to the barbarians.

At last, preparations for battle were complete.

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*Fire Cart - or Hwacha 화차를 is a medieval Korean weapon that worked like a cart-mounted rocket launcher. It could fire dozens or even hundreds of rocket-powered arrows at enemies all at once, making it a powerful tool in battle