The Legendary Spearman Returns

Side Story Chapter 21

The leaders of the southern rebels had a lot going on in their minds.

“What are we going to do?”

“Marquess Suspen was killed in a battle against a twenty-year-old boy.”

“Gosh! Watch your mouth. That’s His Majesty you’re talking about.”

“You’re getting caught up on meaningless stuff. Stop insisting on calling him His Majesty—”

“Count Manto!”

“Since things have turned out this way, let me just say this.” Count Manto stepped forward, his impressive mustache twitching. “I believe I’m not the only one who thinks this is for the better.”

“Mind your tongue!” Viscount Mendes drew his sword; he had worked for the late Marquess Suspen as his aide for decades.

“How dare you point your sword at me, Viscount Mendes?” Manto scowled at Mendes.

“I won’t let you insult His Majesty any further.”

“That is your answer?”

Mendes met Manto’s eyes unflinchingly. “I’m speaking for the other executives.”

“Well…” Manto chuckled. “Is this true, everyone?”

He looked each of the remaining three of the five rebel leaders in the eye. Every one of them was a renowned noble, although Count Manto was the most influential after Marquess Suspen.

“Mmmm….”

Just as expected, the other rebels were reluctant to answer.

Manto smirked. “I think it’s just you.”

“…How can you do this?! After all His Majesty Suspen did for every one of you?” Mendes shouted in despair.

“It’s because we’re human.”

“What…?”

“Humans stay truer to their desires than any animal. You want to talk about loyalty now? Then why did you and the Marquess betray the Duke of Pontier when you two served them for so long?”

Mendes was speechless.

Manto’s smile deepened. “It’s the same here. Someone has to fill in for Marquess Suspen, and everyone here has risked everything on this uprising.”

“…We can’t defeat the national army on our own anyway. The Combat Emperor and the monstrously strong Selim Sanders are with the national army,” Mendes said, trembling faintly.

With his own eyes, Mendes saw Selim slay four rebel knights with every swing of his black spear. His movement was the definition of perfection. Mendes shivered; he had never felt this way even when he had seen the missing Emperor of Avalon in action.

“How about this: don’t we have some spies within Fortress Raymond?” Manto blurted.

“…Why would you suddenly bring them up…?”

“Let’s use them to take Charles di Pontier hostage.”

Mendes's eyes widened.

“She’s poisoned. Although she only took a tiny amount of poison, ordinary people would become so sick in nine days that they would be bedridden for the rest of their life. Holding a wounded, sick woman hostage should be a piece of cake.”

“But if we expose our spies in the fortress, we’ll no longer be able to receive intel from the national army…” Mendes trailed off.

“Does that matter? We’re finished anyway if we lose one more time.”

Manto was right. Since their leader had died, their rebellion was going to fail if they lost Raymond Valley completely. They were powerless if the Combat Emperor used guerilla tactics against them in the vast plains of the south.

“Even if we succeed in capturing Queen Consort Charles hostage, they might give up on her.”

“No way.” Manto shook his head. “Queen Consort Charles is Kireua Sander’s biological mother. He would be crazy if he gave up on her.”

“Kireua Sanders might sacrifice the few for the greater good if he’s truly the son of a monarch.”

“Don’t worry about it. We won’t ask for anything big after we have the Queen Consort in our hands. We’ll only demand for the fortress. It’s reasonable enough, right?” Manto shrugged.

Mendes understood Manto’s plan. Once they took over the fortress, the entrance to the southern region, they would have a chance to survive. Besides, the southern rebel army couldn’t advance to the capital on their own right now anyway—they didn’t have anyone to lead them.

“If we can’t take over the Palace, we’ll have to lay low and wait for the right moment.”

“Are you suggesting we hold out in the fortress?” Mendes asked.

“Yes, we’ll stay in the fortress until the other rebel armies finish their fights. Unless we make a move first, the national army won’t be able to march into the south easily since the war has only just begun.”

“…There is one more thing that bothers me,” Mendes said, his expression darkening.

“What is it?”

“Selim Sanders should have been in the north, so why is he here?”

Manto frowned. “That part bugs me too. There is no way that the army in the north was defeated…”

“How about we unite with the comrades in the east or the west?”

Manto shook his head. “That’s not an option. It’s obvious that they’ll work us to the bone and then discard us.”

“That might be the case if we choose the west, but uniting with the comrades in the east could be a good idea.”

“Why do you think so?” Manto asked.

“Have you forgotten about Marquess Drenius’s reputation?”

“Mmm…” Manto became lost in his thoughts for a moment, stroking his chin.

Marquess Drenius had the authority of the Azure Dragon, one of the Four Guardians, and was famous for taking good care of his people. In contrast, Marquess Turtler, the head of the west rebel army, was known to be very cruel.

There was a famous anecdote regarding Turtler’s cruelty: the current civil war had started in the west, but it had gotten off to a rocky start. Turtler’s vassal had sincerely advised him that the moment was not yet ripe, but Turtler had torn his vassal limb from limb and fed him to the dogs. He had only kept the vassal’s jaw to display it in the center of his meeting room, warning anyone who saw it that if they dared to run their mouth they were going to meet the same end.

“We can’t choose both of them anyway. Let’s send a messenger to the east and they can also check what is going on while they are there. Besides, the path to the east is already open.”

“Then are you saying you’re with me in this, Viscount Mendes?” Manto asked.

“…Isn’t the answer already decided?”

All the rebel leaders were in agreement with Manto. Mendes wasn’t the kind of fool who couldn’t notice that; he became a viscount and Suspen’s aide thanks to his ability to read the room.

“Hehehe, I knew you would understand me. Good. Let’s send a messenger to the east—but, of course, the official message that they will deliver is a proposal for an alliance.”

Mendes nodded. “Yes, we’ll hide the fact that His Majesty—no, Dargo rane Suspen is dead. The news is going to spread eventually, but we don’t need to act submissive from the start.”

“It’s great to have you on our side, Viscount Mendes.” Manto tapped Mendes’s shoulder, satisfied.

Mendes had already sheathed his sword. So far, things were progressing exactly as Kireua had predicted.

-Heeeyyyy!

The rebel leaders flinched in surprise. They hadn’t received any reports of suspicious movements from the enemy, but a voice came echoing from beyond the dark valley.

“Emergency! Emeergencyyyy!”

The rebels’ night watches lit up one torch after another and the soldiers on alert poured out from hundreds of tents.

“What…?”

The rebel leaders had also remained vigilant, so they immediately stopped talking in the central military tent and looked around warilly.

-You know who I am, riiiight?! It’s me, Anna bel Grace, the one you called from far awayyyyy!

“What…?” Manto gasped in surprise.

The other rebel leaders were doing the same.

“That witch is alive?”

“Then why didn’t she contact us until now?”

While the rebel leaders murmured among themselves in confusion, the voice came bouncing down the valley again.

-I’m guessing you’re all planning to send a messenger to the easttttttt!

“Ho-How….!”

-But uh-ohhhhhhhhh. I don’t think that’s an option for you anymooooore.

“Everyone, don’t let her get inside your head! It’s nonsense!” Manto shouted to the rebel soldiers and knights just in case.

-Isn’t it weeeeeird?! The north army just withdrew all of a suddeeeeen. You know, I can tell after I tried fighting with them. The Emperor is missing, but the national army is still a force to be reckoned with. The guys up north must have thought that whoever fights first is going to take the most damaaaage!

Manto’s eyes slowly widened since that was exactly what he had been thinking. “Wait… then the north army withdrew to preserve their power like we did?”

-Do you see nowwww? This is why I changed sideeeees! I went away for a moment and they bailed on meeeeee. How can I trust themmmm?!

“Mmm… So that witch noticed that something was up in the north the whole time?”

-People here are much more reasonable than I thoooought! And this is the most important part: there is one more reason you should give uuuup!

“…What?”

At that moment, a gust of wind blew over them.

The rebel leaders’ eyes widened. The full moon illuminated two people standing on opposite sides of the cliffs, looking down on the rebels. The rebel leaders recognized one of the two people right away.

“Selim Sanders!”

In spite of how dark it was, the rebel knights had long since surpassed the level of ordinary humans, so they could recognize the Prince’s deep blue hair and the damned black spear he held from just a glance.

Manto frowned slightly. “Then what about the person on the left…?”

Due to the distance, it wasn’t easy to exactly identify their faces.

“W-wait,” Mendes abruptly stuttered.

“Viscount Mendes?” Manto tilted his head in confusion when he noticed Mendes was trembling like an aspen leaf.

“I-isn’t… that the Emperor of Avalon’s spear?” Mendes pointed at the man on the left cliff.

Manto's eyes widened. Mendes was right. There should be only one Login, but the two people on the cliffs were both holding Longin. That wasn’t even all.

“Th-Th-That armor!” Mendes was about to faint.

A wind blew, making the robe of the person on the left flutter in the air, revealing something that no one could forget no matter how long it had been since they saw it.

The person on the left was wearing snow-white armor with red lining. It repeatedly disappeared and reappeared as if to playfully inform the rebels that what they were thinking was correct.

It had been a decade since that set of magic armor had made an appearance.

“The Mar-Martial God…?” the rebel leaders murmured in dismay through gritted teeth when they laid eyes on the symbol of the Hero King. Only the Deon Ring of the current Emperor of Avalon would create magic armor like that. In other words, the person on the right cliff was Selim Sanders, and the one on the left was…

“Joshua… Sanders…?”