Arslan Senki

Hilmes, better known as Silver Mask, welcomed the coming of spring while surrounding Zabul fortress.

TheTemple Knights, who had lost more than two thousand soldiers in the first attack, had since then taken refuge in the fortress again, which was known to be difficult to attack due to its geography. Although Hilmes tried to lure them out through various methods, the Temple Knights just wouldn’t move. In any case, the Temple Knights were isolated, and as long as they were patient, they would eventually have to come out. But Hilmes did not have time to wait. The report of Arslan's impending counterattack had already reached him. Hilmes summoned Sam, the former Marzban, to consult with him.

"Sam, have you heard about Andragoras' son?"

"My subordinates have heard of the army being raised by His Highness Arslan."

"The title of ‘Your Highness’ should only be used to address the rightful royal family."

After saying these words, Hilmes crossed his arms and pondered. While he was swept up in squabbling among the Lusitanians and besieging fortresses in the wilderness, Arslan had already gathered an army and established his goal to retake the kingdom. Hilmes still had to quickly capture the fortress of Zabul and establish his base in order to do so. He gazed up at the cliff face, which looked hazy under the bright sun, and asked the former Marzban.

"Sam! What can be done to make those cowardly desert rats show their faces? Do you have a plan?"

The surface of the silver mask shone with a rainbow under the sunlight. Sam looked towards the empty landscape. The figure of a young king who had taken over the throne from his late father, Osroes V, and defended the royal palace on the battlefield tangibly appeared before him, and then disappeared.

"To say the least, this man certainly has an unfortunate fate. Whether it is through courage or wisdom, if he is carefully nurtured, perhaps he could also become an excellent king."

Sam felt this way, and was even a little sentimental, but he did not say this out loud. He knew that Hilmes wanted reverence and obedience, not sympathy. Hilmes had no way of knowing what Sam was thinking, and after a short silence, he put his hand to the silver mask. Sam looked at him in amazement.

"Your Highness Hilmes ……"

"No outsiders are present now. Without occasional exposure to the air, even the intact half of my face might yet rot away."

After murmuring this, Hilmes loosened the clasps of the silver mask, exposing his face to the wind. Sam had been mentally prepared, but he still could not help but stare. The contrast was stark between the handsome left half of his face and the scarred right half.

Looking only at the left half of Hilmes' face, Sam renewed his resolve. He would help this man to drive the Lusitanians out of Pars and bring peace back to the land again. If possible, he must also avoid unnecessary bloodshed between Hilmes and King Andragoras, as well as Prince Arslan. Although he had been given the position of Marzban by King Andragoras and appointed to guard the royal capital of Ecbatana, he had failed to do his duty and was still languishing. As long as he still lives, his suffering will not end.

"Because there are no wells in Zabul fortress, it relies on three underground aqueducts to obtain water. I already know the location of these aqueducts, let us tell the soldiers to dig them out immediately!"

"Will we poison the water?"

"No, if we do that, the water will not be usable later. After capturing the fortress, there is no point in using it if it is not immediately habitable."

"That's true. Then, what is to be done?"

Sam faintly spoke his thoughts to Hilmes. After hearing them, Hilmes nodded vigorously.

"Okay, that's good. Let's do it according to your plan!"

After taking Sam as his retainer, Hilmes trusted Sam even more resolutely. Perhaps he thought that as a king, he should have at least one trustworthy retainer, right? However, at the same time, he absolutely would not allow others to betray him.

In the fortress of Zabul, the Archbishop Bodin was preaching to the cavalry and soldiers. He was standing on the altar waving his hands, frothing at the mouth and speaking at the top of his lungs.

"This building is a natural fortress, and with the protection of the heavenly god Yaldabaoth, the evil heathens will never be able to attack us. We are going to use this fortress as a base to establish a kingdom of God in this land. You are all God's apostles, noble bodies who will participate in the holy war. Bring your honor and prudence! The shadow of God is always over your heads."

The knights and soldiers were moved to tears. However, as a matter of course, exceptions were everywhere.

"What kind of holy war is this? There are no women, no wine, and we can’t even loot the cities. Why do we have to lose our lives fighting in the middle of nowhere?"

Some people whispered this privately, but no one left the fortress. There was no way to escape because the surveillance inside the fortress was extremely strict, and the Parsians were waiting outside the fortress.

When Bodin, who had finished his sermon, was about to leave the altar, a cry came from the water reservoir located deep inside the fortress.

"Fire! Fire is coming out!"

The cavalrymen looked at each other and ran in the direction of the reservoir. There, they saw the fire flowing out from the tunnel.

This was Sam's method. He had poured oil into the underground aqueduct and then lit it on fire.

Because there is still air between the ceiling of the underground water line and the water’s surface, the fire will not go out. The fire gradually flowed inside the fortress. The reservoir was made of stone and wood, and now that the fire was burning the wood, the whole room glowed brightly in a red and golden flame.

Bodin, who had run to the reservoir to see what was going on, knew immediately that this was a tactic of the Parsians, and he could not help but gnash his teeth in hatred.

"Damn, these heathens!"

Angry curses did not improve matters as smoke filled the entire fortress and the soldiers of Lusitania panicked. Although they drew their swords and picked up their spears, the enemy they faced was fire and smoke, and these weapons could not do much at all.

"Put out the fire! Put out the fire quickly!"

Because it was an oil fire, even if you pour water on it, it will only fuel the fire.

In the midst of the confusion, an arrow flew into the wind and pierced the face of the cavalryman who was instructing the men to put out the fire. The cavalryman let out a scream and rolled into the water, disappearing into a column of flame and water. The Lusitanians, stunned by the sudden event, were thrown into a panic when they saw a group in Parsian armor appearing from the other underground aqueducts.

"The infidels are invading!"

The cavalryman who shouted was slashed at his left shoulder by Hilmes’s longsword, and fell down amidst blood and screams.

At the sight of the Parsians breaking into the fortress, Archbishop Bodin, who was in the cloister, could not help but be horrified. He had tortured and killed many heretics, but never had he fought an opponent with a weapon. "Hold them back! Hold them back!" He ordered in a loud voice, and then immediately disappeared into thin air. The other cavalrymen fought back with their swords drawn even in their fear.

"O God! Please give us strength! Give us the strength to defeat the infidels!"

A bloody battle ensued. The Knights of the Holy Church were forced to take a defensive position, but they did not surrender to the pagans. They sang the name of God under their breath and slashed at the Parsians. Swords clashed, spears stabbed, the sound of metal filled the fortress, tied horses neighed in panic amidst the blood and flames, and blood splattered on the stone floor while the dead and wounded fell one after another onto the bloodstained ground.

"Where is Bodin? Don't let Bodin escape!"

Hilmes ordered while still swinging the sword in his hand. Despite his shortcomings in other aspects, Hilmes, who was called the "rightful king of Pars", was definitely not a coward. Not only that, among the kings of Pars in the past, there were not many people who were as brave as he was.

A Temple Knight threw a thin spear. Hilmes's shield moved to the left, blocking the tip of the spear, and the sword in his right hand flashed, cutting the throat of his opponent. At this time, a long, thick-bladed sword wielded with two hands swung from the other direction. After dodging the blow with a superb maneuver and letting the opponent lunge, Hilmes's blood-stained longsword swung in his hand, only to hear a sound like cutting a melon in half. The chest armor of the Temple Knight was slashed and the white blade pierced into his body.

The blood that sprayed out wove a red mist in front of the silver mask. The severed head fell to the ground, while the severed arm fluttered through flames and smoke.

The horsemen of Pars followed Hilmes wielding their own weapons to cut down the Lusitanian horsemen, with Zandeh's movements in particular being the most striking. Since his defeat in a solo fight with Daryun, he had abandoned his sword skills in favor of a weapon that would give fuller play to his strength. Now he was wielding a huge club in both hands. This club was made of wood, rolled and reinforced with cowhide. In the front were several thick nails. With the force of a whack, a human skull would even be cracked, and the eyes would fly out.

The bodies of the Lusitanian knights piled up around Zandeh.

Angry cries and screams filled the atrium, the cloisters, the towers, and the walls of the fortress of Zabul, and blood and sparks stained the sight of the cavalrymen.

The Temple Knights did not expect the enemy to invade the fortress at all. They were convinced that the steep rocky hill and the double iron gates were impossible to breach.

They were also convinced that the fortress was originally owned by the Parsians, but they had captured it by cutting off the enemy's food, and that there would be no problem while they still had food.

Faith and courage alone could not stop the Parsians' onslaught. Someone let out a shout and started running toward the steps of the gate, so the others followed. They wanted to escape to the outside of the fortress.

——

The gates of the fortress were opened. The Lusitanians were forced by the Parsian soldiers and the billowing smoke to escape to the outside. The bright sun of Pars shone in the sky above the two thick gates. After rushing outside from the dark interior, the soldiers’ eyes could not adjust to the bright light and they could not see anything yet.

One by one, the Lusitanians filed out of the fortress. Although the Lusitanians generals tried to command the soldiers to line up in formation, the scene was too chaotic as the tides of people kept pouring out of the fortress gates.

"Fire!"

This was the order issued by Sam. He, who commanded the archers, had his soldiers aiming at the entrance of the fortress gates on stand-by.

The Knights of the Holy Church who ran towards the outside of the fortress fell down one by one under the rain of arrows that fell from the sky. Despite this, their courage showed no sign of decay at all. They swung their swords, and the armor on their bodies made a loud clanging sound as they charged toward the enemy line.

Sam's strategy was extremely clever. He told the soldiers to stop shooting for a while, while retreating back, as if the soldiers of Pars could not hold back the onslaught of the rushing Temple Knights. As long as the Lusitanians moved forward, the Parsian army fell back. The Lusitanian array advanced further. In addition, the terrain was flat, and the Lusitanian soldiers were wearing heavy armor, so it was impossible to run for long. So, after exhausting their strength, the Lusitanians stopped to catch their breath.

The Parsian soldiers, who should have been routed, stopped in unison. Once they formed a neat formation again, they shot another rain of arrows at the Knights of the Holy Church, whose advance had slowed down significantly. The first volley caused more than a hundred of the enemy to fall, and the others scrambled to raise their shields to block the rain of arrows.

The cavalry with Sam as the vanguard rushed out from the flank. In order to block the rain of arrows, the Temple Knights raised their shields to their heads. Thus, facing the attack from the flank, their bodies were completely defenseless. Spears and swords pierced their bodies, and they were at their numbers began to dwindle.

Finally, their confidence and courage ran out. With their formation completely disintegrated, the Lusitanians ran in all directions, dropping their swords, spears, and even their armor.

The sand on the ground was drenched in the blood of the Temple Knights.

The fortress of Zabul fell, and the sacred banner hanging on the fortress's gate was pulled down.

Among the captives, the leader of the Temple Knights was brought before Hilmes. Hilmes turned to the wounded, bleeding captives, tied up like domestic animals, and asked.

"What happened to Bodin? Where is that half-crazed monk hiding?"

Capture Bodin alive, was the order he gave. After capturing him, they tied him like a wild beast, dragged him on foot through the wilderness, and took him to the royal capital, Ecbatana. There, they handed him over to Guiscard, the king's brother, who was furious with Bodin. Guiscard would have been delighted to have Bodin executed, wouldn't he? For Hilmes, it was a great pleasure to make the Lusitanians and the Temple Knights hate each other and kill each other for their own ambitions.

However, none of the more than one hundred and forty captives of the Temple Knights spoke up in reply. Perhaps because they really didn’t know Bodin’s whereabouts, or maybe they knew but did not want to tell Hilmes.

"Yaldabaoth is testing the loyalty of our faith. We cannot betray the archbishop."

"Hmph, and your god has no other way to test the loyalty of his followers?”

Hilmes laughed coldly as a frenzied glow surfaced in the eyes of the Lusitanian cavalryman. He raised his blood-covered face while his whole body was tied up tightly, and said to the sky as if he was drunk with wine.

"O God! Please forgive our sins! We fought to eradicate the godless heathens from the earth and to make this world the kingdom of God, but we, who are incompetent and untalented, lost to the evil heathens. Things have come to this point, and at least my life must be used to reduce the number of enemies by one. O God, please be wise!"

Then, an incredible thing happened. The cavalryman should have been so badly wounded that he could not even stand up. However, at that moment, he leaped up like a beast chased by fire and rushed toward Hilmes.

Hilmes, who was careless, lost his balance. He swayed backward, his armor clanged, and one knee hit the ground. At that moment, another cavalryman darted out and tried to hook his own foot to make Hilmes fall to the ground.

Just then, Hilmes's longsword let out a terrible roar. The first blow of the longsword split the head of the first cavalryman, then stabbed into the side of the second man’s head. Blood sprayed out and short screams of agony echoed against the walls.

"Kill these men!"

Hilmes ordered in a fit of rage. But then he turned to Zandeh, who was trying to drag the men out, and said.

"No, those who have sworn to renounce the god Yaldabaoth can be spared."

However, the faith of the one hundred and forty captives was extremely strong. Not one of them renounced his faith, and each one died while chanting the name of God.

At the end of the execution, Zandeh seemed to be a little tired of the smell of blood and asked.

"Do you want to check for survivors, Your Highness?"

"Forget it, I don't want to deal with these fanatics anymore."

"What should we do with the others?"

"It would be too much trouble to behead them one by one."

Hilmes's silver mask glowed hazily.

"It's better to let them die in the desert. With no water and no food, they'll all die anyway. If there is still one who manages to escape death, count it as the blessing of Yaldabaoth!"

The order was immediately carried out. The remaining Lusitanian soldiers were driven out into the desert without weapons, horses, armor, and without water or food. Many of them were already wounded and did not even have the opportunity to receive medical treatment.

The total number of these people reached 20,000. The 12,000 who swore to submit to Guiscard were spared. The others were either killed in battle or executed; in short, the Temple Knights were routed from the fortress of Zabul.

While the bloody executions were being carried out inside, a group of men rode outside the fortress to the west, one farsang (about five kilometers) away.

It was the heretical inquisitor Bodin, the archbishop of the Yaldabaoth religion. While the two sides were in the midst of the melee, he left the fortress and his knights who were fighting desperately, and fled with only a few attendants.

"Abomination! Abomination! Watch! You heathens, heretics, apostates! Those who despise God and the priesthood will be burned by the karmic fires of hell!"

Bodin called out his curse towards the twilight sky. One of the knights accompanying him asked him where they should go, and Bodin's eyes shone brightly as he replied.

"Maryam! Let's go to Maryam! There are still enough troops there, and the right faith remains. I will use the power of that country to punish that foolish intrusion of Innocentis, the abominable Guiscard, and that Silver Mask!"

    Thus, Bodin, who had sacrificed the lives of many knights of strong faith to keep himself alive, with a complex fire burning in his chest, dashed towards the west.