Badlands Saga: Reincarnation in a Different World with Extreme Charisma - Chapter 11

Chapter 11   Emerald Sword 5

The autumn of harvest and joy swiftly passed, and once again, as promised, a dark, long, and harsh winter arrived.

Even with the season’s change, no reinforcements came from the Kingdom of Folk, and there was no sign of ships from the Siscata Trading Company, whose base is in another country.

However, a few did come to the wilderness along with the cold.

“But this isn’t what we agreed on! Wasn’t there supposed to be a thousand soldiers?!”

“In exchange, there are only about five hundred enemies.”

“I don’t care how many enemies there are! With fewer allies, there are fewer strategies we can use!”

In the large hall of the castle, filled with many people, an old man named Wintor, who claims to be an old friend of Grandfather Gul, shouts like this.

He was one of the few reinforcements who arrived on a ship that recently came to the port from the Kingdom of Folk.

To our surprise, they weren’t sent by the homeland; instead, they were old acquaintances summoned by Grandfather Gul and Kintman.

The fox merchant from the Neyakashi Trading Company, who brought them, is currently exchanging information with my father and the knight commanders…

Isara has joined them in my stead, as I was ordered to meet with the reinforcements.

“Hey, old boss of our boss… Folk’s reinforcements aren’t coming. They’ve set up camp in Pasarat beyond the mountains. The kingdom plans to abandon Tanukan.”

“Stop with the complicated talk. Just call me Fushanklan.”

“Alright then, Fushanklan… if we’re gonna flee, now’s the time. With winter here, the mountains are impassable, and the Makiano bastards have sent several warships, so soon enough, the port will be under siege too.”

Kintman’s subordinate, with a rusty battle axe on his back, says this, but I shake my head.

“If we’re escaping, the women and children go first. If I go, it’ll be on the last ship.”

“You’re just a child too.”

“I’m a noble.”

“But still, Lord Fusha…”

As I was talking with Kintman and his former subordinates…

A tall woman in a robe who had been standing in the corner of the room sashayed over to us.

“This won’t do, this won’t do. A brat’s view of the world is so narrow, it’s quite unsatisfactory.”

“Huh?”

“Defending the people and dying in the castle? You’re not old enough to fight such a pitiful battle. The stars change their course every night, and a comeback can be quite an interesting thing, you know.”

With a low, calm voice, oddly filled with allure, the woman said this. Kintman, standing next to me, pointed the tip of his sheathed sword at her.

“Hey, stop right there. Who the hell are you?”

“To think Kintman was still alive… Have you forgotten the lovely voice of mine you were so enchanted with?”

“You… could you be that old witch, Isrortep?!”

“You’re as mouthy as ever.”

When the woman removed her hood, an exquisitely beautiful face with long ears of the elf race appeared.

Her hair, as if made of pure silver, flowed richly down her neck…

Her lips, as red as if they had tasted human blood, curled as if mocking the entire world, and from their corner peeked a pair of elongated canine teeth, like a vampire’s fangs.

She was a poisonous beauty, the likes of which I had never seen in this remote region.

“What is the Witch of Destruction, Isrortep, doing here? And who invited you…?”

“Why, none other than my beloved General.”

“Tch, damn that old man, Guldura! He’s brought a real troublemaker!”

When Kintman shouted, Grandfather Gul, who had been speaking with his old acquaintances at the back of the room, came over accompanied by several other elderly men.

“Oh, Isrortep, you’ve come as well?”

“What in the world, old man? You invited this one too?”

“Ah, the young lady is so charming! I brought some firewine from my grandson’s room. How about enjoying it together tonight?”

Kintman, fed up with the old men talking freely, stomped heavily on the floorboards and grabbed Gul’s collar.

“Don’t mess with me, Guldura! What are you thinking, inviting such an ill-omened woman here?”

“Calm down.”

But old man Gul didn’t seem particularly bothered and gently patted Kintman’s hand with his palm.

“She is wise. Lord Fusha’s alchemy might contain errors from being entirely self-taught, and I thought it would be good to broaden his knowledge by introducing someone like her.”

“Hmph, so you want me to play the role of a teacher…”

As she said this, she stared me up and down, from my face to my lower body, and licked her lips with a serpentine flick of her tongue.

“Well, I might teach you how to handle a spear, at least…”

“Cut the crap, you old hag!”

Ignoring Kintman’s menacing tone, the long-eared woman approached with a sly smile, but just then, Gul’s wrinkled hand slipped between her and me.

“For now, that won’t be necessary. I’d prefer if you taught him something more specialized.”

“And what do you mean by something more specialized? Alchemy, as you mentioned earlier?”

“Simply put, anything Lord Fusha deems necessary.”

“I wonder if that little brat can endure my wisdom…”

She laughed as she said this and extended an upturned palm toward old man Gul.

“So, what about my reward?”

“Do you really need one, given the circumstances?”

As Gul looked around while saying this, the long-eared woman bared her fangs in a grin.

“What do you mean by that?”

When I asked that, the long-eared woman’s smile deepened even more… Kintman, with a bitter expression, placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Listen carefully, Lord Fusha. Everywhere that woman Isrotep has been… almost every single one of those places has ended in ruin.”

Kintman’s face was serious as he spoke, and his subordinates beside him were nodding vigorously in agreement.

“She enjoys watching people suffer and die, Fusha-sama. She loves it. She was there… at my village before it was burned down by a mercenary band.”

“Oh, your wives and children fought bravely to the end. They barricaded themselves in the village chief’s longhouse and set it on fire themselves… No ordinary courage could have achieved that.”

“You bastard!”

“And so…”

I held back Kintman’s hand as he reached for the hilt of his black sword in his left hand and questioned the woman.

“So, by coming here, you plan to witness the end of this domain as well?”

“That was my initial thought… but now, I’m not so sure.”

She grinned, reaching out with her slender hand to stroke my face.

“It could be over in a flash, or perhaps not… If it drags on, I might not live long enough to see your end.”

“…”

I see… I don’t know exactly how long an elf’s lifespan is, but if she’s saying she might not live to see the end of my fifty or sixty-year lifespan, then maybe she really is an old woman.

“Well, fine. If you do your job, you can stay as long as you like.”

“Oh, you intend to keep the Witch of Destruction at your side? Hmm… I wonder if this little brat is brave or just foolish.”

“Are you serious?”

Kintman asked worriedly, and I shook my head in response.

“It doesn’t matter whether the old woman is here or not; what we have to do remains the same.”

“Little brat, don’t call me ‘old woman.’ Must I teach you how to address a lady properly?”

She seemed somewhat displeased, though Kintman had said the same thing.

“Then what should I call you?”

“My beloved Isro, Lady of Silver Hair, anything will do… But perhaps we should keep it traditional—how about ‘teacher’?”

With that, the woman I would now call “teacher” chuckled softly, amused by the title.