**Chapter 115: Peaceful and Quiet (One)**
Two hundred soldiers from Erin Castle couldn’t spot the hunters from the Shanter Army, nor could they see the New City of Kaliye or any other factions. However, as the warriors claimed, not too far off was another mountain route guarded by the heavy cavalry of the New City of Kaliye. That road was famously known to lead to the Royal City, and things there were probably much more lively than here.
In the past month, they hadn’t really had any direct confrontations, aside from the times when knights from the Fourth Knights Order came to hassle them, barking orders for them to pack up or relaying some annoying new directive from the Church. And there were a few occasions when they caught spies and scouts passing through toward the Royal City—those poor souls were now languishing in cages beneath the watchtower, having undergone rigorous questioning, and barely any of them made it out alive.
Someone got drunk and hollered for me to join them to take a look. Honestly, I wasn’t interested, so I politely declined.
These warriors weren’t the introspective types. The boisterous men from the Northern Empire typically scoffed at deceitful antics and generally looked down on that sort of behavior. They were the type to say whatever came to mind, valuing brute strength and brawling. With all that pent-up energy in the freezing wilderness, drinking just amplified their antics…
Before long, two of them decided to hold a brawl right in front of me. And trust me, they weren’t your typical knights throwing down their white gloves for a light spar—oh no! That kind of poofy duel would earn them ridicule from the entire Shanter Army. These guys were all about real blades and real bl**d, and it didn’t matter how chummy they were otherwise. When it was time to fight, it was all about who was meaner and nastier.
So, naturally, those two soon ended up a mess, both bloodied and carried off by their comrades.
The rest continued to drink and shout, utterly unbothered by the ruckus. They accepted it as just another night’s entertainment.
I quickly filled my belly—I told them so—gobbling down three bowls of white fox meat. The bowls were small, and compared to the average warrior who polished off four or five, it was hardly a feat. Especially compared to the gluttonous Sword Demon who scarfed down six bowls and still wanted to snag some for the road, my portion seemed rather trivial. So, nobody paid me any mind; they simply chalked it up to the arduous journey we’d had and our extreme hunger.
“Hey, lady, why not take off that mask? Hiding your face is just… weird! The warriors of Erin Castle don’t like folks who are too shy to show their faces. If you’ve got scars, so what? Scars are trophies!” someone chimed in.
“We don’t think you look bad at all…”
“Yeah, exactly…”
After a few drinks, some folks started a ruckus, wanting me to remove my hood and mask. A couple even attempted to come over and pry it off—now, these soldiers weren’t bad per se, but they just had zero finesse when it came to social cues, doing what they wanted without a care for anyone else’s feelings.
Finally, the ones trying to get a glimpse of my face were promptly shut down by the handsome uncle Taku…
Though Taku was a soldier just like them, he seemed to carry some weight in their eyes. They generally respected what he said. After a couple of fruitless attempts, seeing his “protective” stance, even if they were grumbling inside, no one else dared to bring it up again.
After filling our bellies with hearty food and drink, night had deepened. The soldiers shuffled back to their posts, doing their guard duty—keeping watch over the watchtower and spike wall while continuing their drinking—their usual routine in this desolate place, where shadows of peers were a rare sight. Booze was practically the only entertainment.
According to Uncle Taku, there weren’t any soldiers in Erin Castle that couldn’t hold their liquor. Even the hunters from the Winter City kept their distance when they spotted them at the drinking table, heads down in defeat. Though the soldiers might get tipsy and blow off steam, it never really impeded their duties.
“Ah, liquor! It’s like a divine blessing for us! In our army, there’s a habit: before going to battle, everyone gets a good buzz going. Once we’re all sloshed, we don’t feel a thing—no pain, all pumped up! It doesn’t matter who the enemy is; we’ll take out one, two—whoever dares to step up… such a thrill!”
Handsome Uncle Taku was getting a bit tipsy himself, dragging me closer to the campfire and prattling on about this and that. I just wanted to be left alone for a minute.
“Tonight, you all can rest easy right here. I’ll let you have my tent; I’ll share mine with those two youngsters. We’ll find somewhere else to crash. Little girls, rest easy… you’re safe with Erin Castle’s soldiers watching over you!”
While his words offered reassurance, when night actually fell, expected troubles started piling in. These warriors hadn’t seen a woman in ages, and upon learning that Taku’s tent housed two female refugees, they came stumbling over, fueled by their drunken bravado, wanting to do… something.
Most approached us in a not-so-forceful way, bragging about their lives. “I don’t have a wife! You can stay at my home in Erin Castle, no worrying about food or drink…”—but when they realized none of us were interested, they left in disappointment.
Yet, there were some particularly unpleasant characters who tossed coins at us—one or two silver pieces, explicitly stating they wanted some “release” for their pent-up energy. They’d enjoy it, we’d pocket the cash; everyone wins, right?
Of course, we weren’t having any of that. I usually stayed quiet, while the Sword Demon went straight for the jugular with her rebuttals. Her insults weren’t particularly creative—things like “Get lost!” and “Beast!”—but they didn’t cut deep enough for anyone to take seriously. Only when she finally snapped and drew her sword did things change.
Then, later…
Later, the Sword Demon went outside and took out three of them.
Of course, she didn’t want to expose her true strength. While I covered my face with a mask during the drinking, the moment I found out these soldiers all served my father, the Sword Demon had already tossed her hood off. I told them she used to be our family’s maid, trained in swordsmanship from a young age, and had the skills to protect me. Otherwise, it would’ve been hard to explain why she had a sword hanging on her hip.
The warriors had started to piece together our story but were still astonished that this seemingly “delicate” lady could effortlessly disarm them with just a few moves—even while she was consciously holding back her strength and speed to a level any normal person could handle. Even with those precautions, they had no chance against the warriors from Erin Castle.
So after she took down three overly brazen soldiers, half of the watch post was alerted. As new challengers showed up outside the tent, shouting about not letting the honor of Erin Castle be tarnished by a woman, the crowd quickly gathered around to gawk and cheer. The Sword Demon welcomed them all, and for nearly half an hour, she took down every braggart that claimed to be tough.
Eventually, Uncle Taku joined in the fun. It seemed they all thrived on this kind of chaos. Surprisingly, Taku was one of the stronger fighters among them. After exchanging a few blows, he actually managed to block two of her strikes. But when the third sword pointed at his neck, he graciously conceded defeat.
I figured they’d be upset about it, but surprisingly, they weren’t.
Afterward, they resumed their drinking, eagerly chatting about how it had been ages since they’d seen a woman who could fight like that—and were having a blast!
The reasoning behind their logic was a bit lost on me…
But, in any case, it wasn’t a bad thing.
That night passed… just like that, “peacefully and quietly.”
