What Do You Wish For With Murky Eyes: Record of Highserk War - Chapter 53

The castle gates remained open as construction continued.

With the slogan “Dig the moat 1mm deeper, raise the earthen rampart 1mm higher,” work was pushed forward by both militia and civilians. Even women and children who couldn’t endure heavy labor were mobilized for collecting stones, debris, and soil for slinging.

At the outer edges, platoons worked together to kill approaching monsters, aiming to eliminate as many as possible before they converged and reached the city. Walm, who had mindlessly killed monsters until now, had also learned about the edible parts and materials for weapons.

Beside the guards at the castle gate, there were soldiers counting the people who sought refuge. They categorized them into combatants, laborers, and non-laborers, with no consideration for age or gender.

The exhausted Myard citizens who had reached Dandurg Castle were all worn and fatigued. A family passing by Walm consisted of a father carrying a load, and a mother holding a small child. When their eyes met, the family awkwardly lowered their heads in gratitude. Walm pointed towards a corner of the castle.

“There’s food.”

Seeing the smoke from the kitchen, the family expressed gratitude again and their faces relaxed with relief. However, Walm’s expression clouded. Ideally, he should have warned them to bypass the suspicious-smelling castle immediately.

It’s not appropriate for an ordinary soldier to give orders, especially without solid evidence. Officially, there’s a message circulating that they are prepared to deal with a major outbreak at the three main roads of Myard.

When Walm shifted his gaze, he noticed a group of about a hundred people. Amidst the scattered refugees, a cohesive group was rare. After all, a group without resistance-capable forces was like a mobile buffet for monsters.

Upon careful observation, the leading figures in the group were fully armed, and many villagers were equipped with weapons or farming tools.

Judging from the splatters of blood, it was evident that they had pushed through considerable monster resistance to reach this point. Walm, intrigued, squinted his eyes and sensed a disturbance in his skin. After all, there were beings among them that he had encountered before.

“Sir Knight, where are you headed?”

The soldier guarding the gate noticed a change in Walm’s expression.

“There’s something I’m concerned about. Clear some space.”

As Walm moved away from the gate and approached the group, tension within the group heightened. They were already within reach after four or five steps. Walm realized that his instincts were not mistaken.

“Stop.”

Once, there were adventurers and surviving Myard soldiers who had threatened the supply routes and inflicted damage on Highserk soldiers.

“Why did you come here?”

The face of the blue-haired adventurer at the forefront contorted as if he had bitten into a bitter bug. It seemed that they recognized Walm as an individual they knew.

“I’m well aware that I’m saying something convenient… I need your help.”

They had escaped the major outbreak and managed to reach Dandurg Castle. It was an expected response. Walm deliberately tapped the surface of his longsword with his fingers in a conspicuous manner.

“What happened to the pride of Myard? You rose up against the Highserk soldiers from concern for the country, attacking them from behind. Are you now seeking shelter from Highserk just because you’re on the verge of death?”

Walm wouldn’t blame ordinary Myard soldiers or prisoners. The adventurers and surviving soldiers before him had a firm determination; they had attacked the Highserk soldiers from behind.

Walm didn’t deny those who were inspired by patriotism and love for their homeland. He could understand it. However, he couldn’t accept a sudden change of stance just because they had lost their way during the major outbreak.

“At that time, there was still a chance of winning. The situation is different now. Myard… has completely lost.”

“Your patriotism is quite shallow.”

At that moment, Walm recalled the environment of the northern countries. Surrounded by unstable demonic territories and frequent changes in rulers, it was a region where the rulership often shifted. While an exile government had been established on the peninsula jutting out into Lake Celta, if the nation were to fall, adapting quickly seemed inevitable.

Especially in the Highserk Empire, which advanced assimilation policies, they often replaced only the leadership and incorporated the territories. Occasional resistance or uprisings could be easily suppressed with overwhelming force.

“Do you think you’ll be forgiven just by bowing your head?”

Even among soldiers who had a more personal connection, some had died.

“What should we do?”

Walm smiled.

“Maybe I should take your heads.”

Walm sensed the surge of hostility from the group. His expression turned serious, and he scanned them from end to end as if licking them with his gaze.

“If it’s going to be another bloodbath, or if you don’t like it, go somewhere else. I am a knight guarding the gate. I can’t trust villagers pretending to surrender, or adventurers attacking from behind to aid the defeated soldiers.”

“We have no homeland to rely on, chased by the major outbreak, and inside the castle are only armed Highserk soldiers. We won’t do anything foolish.”

An adventurer skilled in archery pleads her difficulties to Walm, but there was no nodding in agreement regarding her request.

“Is there no other way aside from his head?”

A man wielding a large shield approaches Walm, inquiring if there’s no alternative.

“A reckoning is necessary.”

Walm didn’t provide a clear answer.

“To demand Al’s head like that… I can’t accept it.”

The female archer from before steps forward from the side.

“Stay out of this, woman. I’m talking to him.”

Walm asserted in a stronger tone.

“Amy, wait a moment.”

The adventurer addressed as Al furrowed his brow, remained silent for a few seconds, but eventually sighed and spoke.

“… Fine. I’ll surrender my head.”

“Al, don’t say foolish things.”

The woman grabs his shoulder, but the blue-haired adventurer shakes her off.

“This is the only way.”

“My head should do, Al and Amy are essential for the village. I can’t let them die.”

The shield wielder who had brawled with Squad Leader Duwei, spoke up.

“This is not a joke. Why are you speaking up Fleck!!”

“I was specifically named. You don’t need to die.”

Leaving Walm behind in exasperation, the three argue about who should or shouldn’t surrender their head.

“Haa~, what about the others? Just spectators? It’s getting us nowhere. At this point, I don’t mind taking any of your heads.”

Walm asks wearily, but they only exchange glances without offering their names.

“All the fallen Myard soldiers were brave, but none of you are stepping up, huh.”

Walm provokes, but no one responds, keeping their eyes averted.

In a sense, Walm felt a sense of relief and satisfaction from the normal human reactions. On the other hand, the theatrical performance of the three continued. It would have been better to watch a cheap play, and the quarrel had already escalated into a heartburn-inducing dispute.

If it had been instructions from his former squad or battalion, Walm would have easily taken a head without hesitation. However, Walm didn’t genuinely intend to go as far as taking heads. Despite the dubious circumstances, he didn’t want to kill seasoned adventurers in an emergency situation, reducing their fighting strength. Moreover, provoking further resentment could lead to a serious attack from behind during combat.

Nevertheless, doing nothing was not an option.

“You guys, quiet down a bit. Stand in a row over there… Well, don’t worry. I won’t behead all three in one go.”

The three complied reluctantly and lined up.

“Yeah, let’s distribute the pain of beheading.”

“Specifically…?”

Al asked with suspicion about Walm’s proposal.

“I’ll keep punching until I’m satisfied. I’ll hit all of you. Well, I don’t think you’ll die, though.”

Walm took a short run-up and punched Al’s face. The features, with a prominent and high nose, were distorted as nosebleed sprayed out.

“Stand up.”

The blue-haired adventurer stood up silently. Walm grabbed his hair and delivered a knee kick, further twisting the nose.

“Yeah, it’s looking better.”

The man with the large shield stepped forward on his own. Good spirit. With Walm’s powerful blow, he struck the cheek. Even so, the man, who didn’t fall, was repeatedly punched in the face. His face swelled up, and as his jaw shook, he collapsed.

The archer woman also stood upright quietly. Instead of the face, Walm unexpectedly thrust his fist into her side. Struck in the liver, the woman grimaced in pain, and her body double over.

Enduring with all her might, the woman received the second and third punches, with Walm driving his fist into her. Stomach contents were vomited, and she coughed and gagged on the ground.

The three remained silent as they stood. After three rounds, the faces of the adventurers swelled up as if they had been stung by countless bees.

“Line up the remaining ones. I’ll settle it for them in three rounds as a favor.”

The remaining defeated soldiers clenched their teeth and lined up in a row. By the end, the ground was stained with spewed blood, vomit, and gastric fluid.

“There won’t be a second chance. Betray, and I’ll cut the tendons of your limbs, throwing each one off the castle ramparts to the ground. Young and old, regardless of gender, everyone.”

Cutting his words, allowing time for the impact of the words to sink in, Walm concluded with his final statement.

“Enough with the reunion gathering. Welcome to the end of Myard, enjoy your stay at Dandurg Castle.”

Shaking off the blood on his fists, Walm smiled at the villagers, but unfortunately, he received neither warm applause nor lively responses.