The centaur leader ran. It was not the time to be cautious about wounds.
He was a monster who had already fled twice.
Having intelligence meant knowing when to escape in dangerous situations.
And that was exactly what he did.
The first thing that came to the beast's mind was the creature that had made it flee the first time.
In the place the humans called the "Witch's Domain," deep within, all sorts of creatures lived.
Of course, the centaur leader didn't understand the meaning of the Witch's Domain or any geographical significance.
It was merely the creature that had toyed with him that came to his mind.
With long arms, anything caught in those hands was torn apart.
It was a creature with tearing hands, one that enjoyed ripping things apart even when it wasn't hungry.
Thud, crack!
The leader smashed through branches hitting his shoulder with sheer force.
Black blood poured from his right foreleg.
The pain brought his mind back.
The memories followed.
He had escaped the tearing hands, broken the boundary, and fought.
Then, he was defeated and chased.
Eventually, he had been driven by the human group all the way to this place.
The monster kept repeating only one thought.
Surviving is what makes one strong.
What must be done to survive?
Instinct urged the monster forward.
"Subdue the wild horse herd on the plains and form a bigger group!"
If the monster had any ambition, it was now.
More precisely, the monster was learning something by being close to humans.
Its intelligence allowed for that.
It had learned how to hide and gain strength.
This time, it had also learned how to gauge its enemies.
From the humans' perspective, it was obvious that a missed opportunity would lead to an even bigger threat.
No, it was a clear threat.
The leader thought that if it survived this time, it would subdue the entire wild horse herd on the plains.
Then it would gather even more monsters and beasts.
"It will be troublesome if I miss."
Instinct spoke. Even without it being pure instinct, his mind understood the same.
Monsters were said to become more monstrous the longer they survived.
What did that mean?
It referred to becoming treacherous and malicious.
If a monster's cruelty was combined with cunning and malice...
"It's going to be a huge pain."
Above all, it might turn into Dunbakel's final battle.
He didn't feel guilty for the death of the beastkin.
However, from the moment he took responsibility for them, from the moment he accepted them under his command until they went out, it was his responsibility.
If he hadn't taken them in, it would be different, but he had, and he had placed them under his wing.
And once they were under his wing, it was his duty to take responsibility.
Death in battle was naturally the individual's responsibility, but beyond that, it was something a commander had to handle as well.
Especially since Dunbakel had done all this in an effort to save a life.
"Why did she do that?"
If the beastkin were still alive, this would be the question he wanted to ask as soon as he saw her.
Pushing the brief thought aside, he focused on running.
Leaves approached rapidly, and tree roots thrust up from the ground like traps.
Everything seemed to slow him down.
That applied to the centaur monster as well.
But because of its significantly thicker skin and body than a human, it could crush through obstacles.
That's exactly what the leader did.
Ignoring most obstacles, it continued to run.
Enkrid had already discarded his helmet, which was obstructing his vision, and although it hit the leader's back, it didn't make him flinch.
The helmet bounced off his back without a second thought.
He didn't even flinch. It looked like he had decided to run.
Of course, the throw hadn't been powerful due to the running.
"Should I train throwing while running?"
It would be useful in situations like this.
It was something to think about later.
Enkrid wanted to catch it.
The responsibility for Dunbakel, the dangers to come, he wanted to end it all here.
At the current speed, it wouldn't be long before they were out of the forest, and then the open plains, the pastures would follow.
That land, which had the highest concentration of wild horses nearby, meant he would lose track if they reached that point.
"I don't want that."
He didn't want to miss it.
This was a moment when he focused entirely on one thing. As he ran, his concentration activated, and at the same time, all his senses sharpened.
The sixth sense, developed through the sense of evasion, and his intuition were both activated by one singular purpose.
"I won't miss."
The moment he mentally repeated that desire.
His eyes caught the half-broken shape of a tree about twenty paces ahead, and the twisted grain of the wood exposed by the break.
His senses wildly surged, showing him the way.
The rejection he had felt earlier awakened a little bit of "Will."
Enkrid's body naturally followed the path laid out before him.
With a sharp thud, he stomped on a tree to his right and shot up into the air. At the same time, he thrust his knife vertically into the thick branch above his head.
With a sharp thud, he stood on a tree to his right and shot up into the air. At the same time, he thrust his knife vertically into the thick branch above his head.
His body was propelled forward by the momentum of his running speed.
Enkrid released the knife and swung forward like a monkey, grabbing the next branch as he soared again.
He flew through the air twice, then fell upside down, throwing his sword.
It was not just an acrobatic move, it was a stunt.
The physical control gained from grueling training, almost bordering on torture.
This led to developed athletic abilities, explosive strength through the heart of monstrous power.
The courage to hold onto a well-developed body and the sharpened senses that predicted every step ahead.
All of it came together.
Everything was crushed into one and realized through his body.
If someone had seen it from the side, they would have seen him suddenly spring up while running, then darting through the air, shooting a beam of light.
The leader, running ahead, had just escaped the forest.
The leader felt a sense of joy.
'Now, I've shaken them off!'
Just as he broke through and stepped out of the forest, a sword pierced his skull.
The sword Enkrid had thrown pierced straight through the leader's head.
And the moment the sword sank into his skull, something slammed into the side of the leader's body.
The sword was a shadow.
Enkrid's head tingled, starting from his eyes.
It was due to the extreme focus.
More precisely, it was the result of 'Will' activating during that focus, though he didn't realize it.
Anyway, Enkrid twisted his body from a falling position and rolled to soften the fall.
Using the momentum from the roll, he pushed with his ankle and stood up.
Enkrid paused, kneeling on one leg, and looked at the leader, who had fallen with a sword lodged in his head.
The leader, with the sword stuck in his skull, fell sideways, struck by something that had charged and collided into him.
The body of the dying creature trembled. No, was it already dead?
Enkrid's gaze shifted.
The entity that had rammed into the leader was now visible.
Hee-ee-ee-ing.
A wild horse, releasing steam-like vapor from its body, appeared.
It seemed to spread from its back like wings, but the blue vapor quickly dissipated into the air.
Enkrid was in a similar state.
Sweat streamed from his body, and when he stopped, it began to evaporate like vapor.
A beast and a man stood facing each other silently.
The fallen centaur leader continued to tremble on one side.
Black blood stained the dirt beneath him. The standoff between man and beast was brief.
"Did you catch it? Oh."
From behind, Rem's voice rang out with a short exclamation. He wasn't alone.
"Brother, did you get it? Well done."
Audin, unusually, gave his praise.
Though he was unseen, there was someone else coming from far behind, breaking branches as they approached.
Jaxen, moving silently, followed.
The one breaking branches, trailing behind, was likely Teresa.
The giant's steps were slow, even for a half-giant.
"Did Ragna follow, by any chance?"
Enkrid asked, just in case.
"Oh, that guy. He came in with us but ran off on his own, taking a shortcut."
Rem muttered.
Ah, Ragna.
Enkrid shook his head inwardly.
The guy, other than swinging a sword, was truly hopeless, always getting lost.
"Is that a monster? Hmm?"
Audin asked. Was it because of his divine nature that he could easily sense magic?
His tone showed curiosity, something similar to a question.
Perhaps Rem felt something too, as he added to the conversation.
"Quite a deadly one."
Enkrid continued to speak without turning his gaze.
He was still fixated on the wild horse's eyes, the ones that turned its blue sweat into steam.
Its body was black, but the sweat dripping over its skin had a bluish tint. It was a fascinating sight.
The vapor from its sweat took on a bluish hue.
That wasn't the only unusual feature.
Its eyes were two different colors.
One was blue, and the other was red.
Could there be such an odd form, even in a creature with an odd eye?
Especially since one of its eyes appeared almost like that of a monster.
Enkrid watched the leader's lifeless body trembling on the ground.
'How do monsters create beast-hands?'
Krais had a lot of random knowledge.
"Knowledge is a weapon that shows a different kind of charm to women."
Well, that was certainly a clever reason.
Anyway, as Krais said...
"Just infect them with monster blood. Once done so, the brain of a healthy animal becomes tainted by magic. Especially if used the blood of a creature that forms a colony—it's highly effective. Without doing so, commanding beasts would be difficult."
This was how the pack of beasts was led.
The same method was likely used for this creature to lead the horse beasts.
The reason why herbivores were turned into beasts in large numbers.
'But there weren't that many horse beasts, were there?'
Were there fewer wild horses in this area? No, that didn't seem to be the case. Didn't the creature before him prove it?
"Look at this one, it almost made it, huh?"
Rem said.
Enkrid saw the same thing.
The reason for the mismatched eyes, the vapor pouring from its body, and the beast charging straight into him.
Grrr.
The wild stallion snorted again, casting a wary glance. Enkrid caught its gaze.
It felt like the beast was speaking with its eyes.
'I will win. I will prevail. I will not submit to this blood.'
It was a sense of defiance, stance, and energy.
Rem seemed to have perceived something similar, which is why he spoke up.
What did it mean to endure?
Oddly enough, even though it hadn't been long, Enkrid found those words not unfamiliar.
'Why?'
He asked himself and quickly found the answer.
Enkrid saw himself in the wild stallion.
A beast tainted by the blood of a monster becomes a beas-hand.
It was an immutable truth.
"An interesting thing, Brother."
Audin's mutter could be heard.
Enkrid stared at the one rejecting the immutable truth. He locked eyes with it.
The air was thick with hostility. There was even a hint of combat. The creature had fangs growing, unusual for a horse.
Enkrid recalled the past.
"A knight? Pfft."
There was someone sneering.
"Stop saying foolish things. Get your head straight and live."
Someone was scolding.
"Stop it. I'm saying this for your sake."
There were those who worried for him.
All of them had seen the immutable, unchanging truth.
Enkrid rose and reached out towards the horse.
Even if he hadn't thrown his sword to catch the beast, the creature would have been halted by a body slam.
So, it was as if both had captured it at once.
"Were you targeting it too?"
Enkrid asked.
It was likely an extremely intelligent creature.
He stepped closer as he spoke.
For the horse to resist the blood of the monster, it had overcome that immutable truth.
The horse bared its fangs.
Grrr.
Once more, it snorted. It seemed ready to bite at any moment. Given the monsters he'd seen, it could very well have severed his wrist.
The horse, about to show its fangs, shook its head, releasing another snort.
Its eyes wavered, shifting between murderous intent and wariness multiple times.
Enkrid moved forward, and though the horse stepped back, it did not run away.
All eyes, except for the lost Ragna, were focused on Enkrid and the horse.
Only the heavy breathing of Teresa, who had arrived late, could be heard.
No one spoke.
It felt like the meeting of something new with something new.
And then, Enkrid's hand touched the head of the black horse with its dark mane.
Was the sweat on its skin blue because of the blood of the beast, or was it just its natural state?
It was an unknowable mystery.
And the creature, half-beast and half-wild, did not reject Enkrid's touch.
That was all.
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