The Rural Officer Who Was Once a General

Part 1, Chapter 6

Zarbin, the leader of the assassin unit, was one trained as the elite of the elite.

As a warrior of the Khanate, his horsemanship was top-tier, and in infiltration and close combat, he was considered among the top five in the entire Khanate.

He had been deployed on top-priority missions seven times, and each time, his commander was rewarded with satisfactory results.

This time, he had just been assigned under General Rakula, who was making a name for herself in the war against the Empire, and was about to carry out her glorious first operation.

Yet here he was, not only being blocked by some no-name low-ranking officer in a backwater dispatch mission, but also facing the risk of losing his life.

“At first, I just thought this was a nuisance.”

He figured he had just gotten unlucky—if he was prepared for a few casualties in the fight, the mission could still be completed without much trouble.

Even if their absence were noticed later, it might be hard to completely cut off the supply line without knowing where the poison had come from, but the result would still be within an acceptable margin of success.

But look at the current situation—at this rate, the mission won’t just fail, he might end up buried in this rural area.

“I can still make this work.”

The light infantry that came with him were veterans directly under General Rakula, and the other assassins were handpicked elites.

The presence of Tryaev was annoying, but Tryaev didn’t seem to possess the kind of skill that could turn the tide of battle on his own.

“If I just take care of him!”

He didn’t need to win.

A mutual kill, a situation where neither could move, or even just stalling for time until their side could wipe out those imperial bastards—any of those would work.

If worst came to worst, he could trade his life for that officer bastard’s leg.

As long as the guy couldn’t move, victory would go to the assassin unit.

Creak.

Zarbin’s single-edged sword scraped against the gravel beneath the reed field, then rose to diagonally cover his body.

Zarbin then chose to wait.

If he could buy time, that alone was good—and if that officer bastard charged first, he felt he could respond.

No, to be exact, he didn’t have the confidence to charge in first and kill that guy.

‘The important thing is to grasp the objective.’

For a ranger, victory isn’t about winning a fight—it’s about completing the mission.

And his current mission was to secretly poison the supply line.

There had been witnesses, but as long as he killed them all, that would be the end of it.

So, rather than going wild trying to kill Fade, Zarbin opted to maintain the standoff.

“Haa, what a nuisance….”

In the end, Fade made the first move.

Ta-at.

Kicking hard off the ground, Fade swung his arms behind his shoulders and twisted his waist.

‘He's coming!’

Zarbin tightened his grip on his sword.

‘Now!’

Countless drills and real combat experiences told him when to defend.

Zarbin raised his sword.

“Hrrgh!”

Fade swung his bastard sword with a grunt, as if it was quite strenuous.

His twisted arm and waist returned to their natural positions, adding force to the long blade.

Kaang!

Zarbin’s defense timing was spot on.

The force behind the longsword was powerful, but in close-range sword clashes like this, the one with feet planted on the ground held the advantage.

Tingling.

Blocking a descending strike mid-air made Zarbin’s wrist tingle, but he let the pain pass like someone who had long forgotten what pain felt like.

“Haah!”

With another shout, Fade spun his sword widely in mid-air.

With a slicing wind, the blade slithered over Zarbin’s single-edged sword like a snake and cut deeply into his shoulder.

“……!”

Zarbin clenched his teeth and suppressed the pain.

Fwoosh!

Blood sprayed from the gash, blinding one eye.

Maybe because of the sudden loss of blood, dizziness started to set in.

‘Grrraaagh!’

Zarbin’s eyes were bloodshot.

He mustered the rest of his strength and swung his sword at the landing Fade.

The arm on the side of the slashed shoulder couldn’t move, so he had to swing with one hand.

His target: the lower body.

At this angle, he could take the right thigh, and if Fade tried to dodge, he’d slice the left ankle clean off.

But Fade made a different choice.

Instead, he raised his right thigh toward the incoming sword.

Clang!

The sword, lacking proper acceleration, struck the iron guard on the thigh and bounced off.

Fade followed through by slamming his bastard sword down at Zarbin’s crown.

Crunch!

The crude helmet split with little resistance, and blood burst out through the gap like a fountain.

Zarbin collapsed and was buried in a patch of reeds cut shorter than the rest.

“A confirmation kill… won’t be necessary.”

No matter how meticulous Fade was, he didn’t question whether someone could survive that.

And rightly so—Zarbin’s corpse had been split clean from the top of the head to the center of the forehead.

Fade loosened up his startled muscles and shifted his gaze to the side.

Four lower-ranking officers were standing there, blankly staring back and forth between him and Zarbin’s corpse.

“Horse.”

“Sorry?”

One of the officers answered as if he hadn’t understood.

“My horse. Hand it over.”

Fade caught his breath and extended a hand, and among the four, the most perceptive officer placed the reins of a warhorse in his grasp.

“You, follow me on horseback. The rest of you, get ready to run hard.”

That perceptive one hadn’t been seen in the officers’ quarters yesterday. From what Fade had heard, he’d been summoned today after secretly slacking off.

“Wait, run? After the horse?”

The officers all widened their eyes at once.

“Now then, from this point on it’s a speed game. Let’s move!”

“Whaaat?”

The three officers who hadn’t yet caught up with the situation stood there blinking, but once Fade and the perceptive officer took off on horseback, they scrambled after them.

The place Fade reached by horse was the ridgeline.

A light infantryman who had been relatively behind spotted Fade and tried to block him, but Fade’s sword moved faster than the man’s spear.

In the first place, even a seasoned veteran couldn’t do much against an airborne attack from someone on horseback.

Fade soon spotted around a dozen warhorses.

They must have been ridden in by the assassin unit.

There was no way they could have crossed such a wide forest on foot.

So then, what about the light infantry?

They were elite from the Khanate—surely they could ride.

Of course, riding in combat was an entirely different matter.

Fade instructed the officers to each mount a horse.

“Oho, perfect.”

The soldiers still locked in melee in the reed field had formed into exactly the formation Fade had intended.

The assassins, aiming for distance in combat, were fighting in scattered skirmishes, while the Imperial heavy infantry were slowly advancing in a formation Fade had ordered.

The enemy light infantry, seemingly unable to pierce the heavy infantry's firm defense, were trying to flank—but they were repeatedly blocked by Tryaev and the two subordinates under his direct command.

As a result, the enemy forces were naturally being forced into a position where they crashed against the heavy infantry wall.

“When I give the signal, charge.”

“Yes, Officer!”

The officers, now quite used to Fade’s informal tone, followed his command without question and prepared to charge.

“Hoo…”

Fade took a deep breath.

He could feel the energy flowing through him with the air.

Feeling unexpectedly young again, Fade curled the corners of his lips for a moment, then relaxed them into a faint smile.

“Alright, let’s go!”

At his signal, five warhorses simultaneously descended the ridgeline and crashed into the Khanate soldiers from the rear.

“Guhhak!”

Struck for the first time by Fade’s horse, the assassin’s leather helmet crumpled—and his skull likely ended up looking the same.

The fact that he flew several meters and didn’t get back up was proof enough.

“Five cavalry!”

The assassins quickly turned and targeted the officers.

Even so, the horses had no intention of stopping.

“Hyup!”

Two assassins leapt from either side of Fade’s horse, swinging daggers at him.

Kaang!

With a sweeping strike, Fade’s bastard sword carved the two into a total of four pieces.

“Guhhak!”

A scream came from the side—another assassin had been hit by a horse.

“Goddamn it!”

The light infantry all raised their spears at once to threaten the horses, but they had forgotten about the ones behind them.

Thwuck.

Karun, now wielding a spear instead of the stolen bastard sword, impaled a light infantryman through the neck.

“Damn it!”

As the light infantry became aware of the heavy infantry once more and hurriedly turned around, the spear shafts were knocked aside by shields.

The heavy infantry were advancing much faster than before.

“Stab!”

At Niss’ shout, seven men from the rear line thrust their spears simultaneously at the flustered light infantry.

“Urgh!”

More than half the light infantry were skewered on spears.

“Hup!”

Tryaev’s blade flew at the light infantry who barely managed to escape.

A flurry of clean, seamless strikes took the breath from their lungs.

“Guhhak!”

“Ugh!”

“Ghk!”

The assassins, struck by horses, blades, and spearheads flying from above, fell one by one into the reeds, unable to rise again.

No finishing blows were necessary.

They could simply be trampled by the horses, and those who were flung far would be skewered as the heavy infantry passed through.

“Finish them off!”

With only three assassins left between the heavy infantry and the officers, Fade shouted.

The meaning was simple.

A massacre with no strategy—pure chaos.

A total of twenty-three survivors, including soldiers and officers, swung their swords at those who had lost their fighting spirit.

‘They could be taken alive at this point, but…’

Capturing a low-ranking ranger like this, not even a commander, held no value.

No, if they’d received proper training, they’d surely use poison or something else to commit suicide before being taken alive anyway.

“Kill them all!”

“You don’t have to say it! Hyaaah!”

One of the mid-level officers, now fully transformed into a battle maniac, took off two heads with a single swing, and the final assassin’s life was taken by one of Tryaev’s two surviving subordinates.

It was the one wielding a sword rather than a shield, and he used a style with a satisfying cutting edge.

As the last assassin’s head hit the ground, silence fell for several seconds.

Then, a battle cry tore through that silence, echoing as if to engulf all of Aide.

“Waaaaaaaah!”

It was a shout filled with the joy of victory, the relief of survival, and the thrill of battle.

However, the roar quickly faded.

The deaths of comrades, the surge of pain and exhaustion, and the delayed fear of the battlefield began to settle in.

***

Not long after, a procession of wagons carrying supplies came rolling in.

“Who goes there!”

The escort soldiers, seeing the heavy infantry drenched in blood, pointed their spears at them.

“…I’ll handle this.”

Tryaev said that as he reached toward his scabbard.

‘Wait, is he serious?’

Fade’s eyes widened.

“Eek!”

A few of the escort soldiers flinched and started to approach in panic.

Tryaev simply shrugged and reached into the pouch next to his scabbard.

What he raised in his hand was a silver identification badge.

‘Wow, he’s got a real talent for startling people.’

Whether from the unnecessary tension or not, Fade’s body slumped with relief.