Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 456 - How to Dominate the Battlefield
Enkrid wanted Rem to handle things with precision, wit, and quick thinking.
And Rem intended to do just that.
"I'll handle it."
It wasn't blind faith.
From what he'd seen so far, that's exactly who Rem was.
Enkrid's goal was to kill the peculiar monster leading the group, which spun thread to launch as arrows.
Reducing the number of monsters was a secondary objective.
Though he hadn't spelled it out, both Rem and Dunbakel would know what to do.
Would there be dangerous monsters there? Of course. But...
"If I were a monster," Enkrid thought.
He wouldn't waste his forces recklessly near Oara, especially when they could draw even more attention here instead.
Enkrid had endlessly replayed scenarios in his mind, analyzing and strategizing.
By putting himself in the enemy's position, he could observe his own forces with a shifted perspective.
"What is the greatest threat?"
No need to ask. It was Oara.
"And what is their objective?"
This, too, was already clear.
"Knight Oara."
The enemy's focus was singular: to kill the knight named Oara.
Just as Oara aimed to destroy the core to eliminate the mana field, the enemy sought a similar strategy.
Enkrid had deciphered their intent, confirmed through repeated mental simulations of the day's events.
"Born with a talent for reading the battlefield, huh?" Roman muttered.
But it wasn't an innate talent.
It came from experience.
And so, he spent today as he had countless others.
Yet, not a single one of those days was wasted merely gathering information.
Even the ferryman had been astounded.
Enkrid spent his days swinging his sword with relentless fervor, absorbing every scrap of intelligence from his surroundings.
That was how this day began.
The conclusion? Rem and Dunbakel would handle their tasks.
So, Enkrid would focus on his.
"Hah."
He puffed out his cheeks, exhaled, then pursed his lips to draw in air.
With steady steps, Enkrid began to move forward. His body felt light, his condition excellent—no, more than that. Better than usual.
A flame of anticipation surged in his chest, igniting his resolve.
Enkrid quickened his pace into a light run, with Luagarne following close behind.
From atop the wall, Oara observed, while nearby, Roman and the short-haired blonde, Aishia, watched.
He would win their trust through action.
So, he would show them.
Enkrid's eyes locked onto the head of an oncoming spider monster. Dozens of compound eyes, a split maw, and legs that, while not forged of steel, seemed as solid as iron.
It was swifter than others of its kind. The creature skittered closer, its front legs crossing like shears.
As his sixth sense heightened, time seemed to slow, sharpening his focus.
He could see the blade-like legs, serrated edges lined with spikes at regular intervals.
He could feel the force behind the intersecting limbs.
If caught, his body would be severed in an instant.
Even a mere graze would shred his flesh.
So, he moved before it could reach him.
In the split second where time fractured, Enkrid accelerated his thoughts and acted.
From below, he swept Aker upward.
The blade carved a graceful arc, severing the spider's legs before cleaving its head in two.
"No need to stop."
Think and act.
Enkrid cut down the monster and moved forward, swinging Aker one-handed.
His feet struck the ground with precision, sliding, twisting, and propelling him onward.
His waist turned, his ankles pivoted, and his blade slashed, stabbed, and cleaved.
Thud, crack, squelch, snap, crunch.
"What's needed to face multiple enemies?"
Boldness and decisiveness.
Instinct, rather than thought, guided his actions, and his skill ensured those instincts were always correct.
Rem excelled at this.
His axe moved instinctively, tracing unrelenting arcs.
Enkrid mimicked him.
Ting!
A flicker of flame ignited in Enkrid's left hand.
He wasn't copying techniques but the sheer force of will.
"I am a barbarian."
A crazed savage.
A barbarian with a penchant for splitting nobles' heads.
One who started fights whenever he didn't like something.
Enkrid's twin blades whipped and struck like lashes of light.
The flaming bolt descended diagonally, seemingly stabbing at empty space—but it wasn't empty.
A spider monster lunged into the path of the firebolt, its head impaled.
Screech!
A massive spider reared back, attempting to spray venom from its abdomen as it died.
Thick brown liquid arced through the air, splattering on the ground.
It didn't touch Enkrid, nor did it hinder him.
As the venom-spewing monster collapsed, Aker dashed through the battlefield like a swallow, cutting, smashing, and breaking.
Sensing movement behind him, Enkrid ducked.
Whish!
A spider leg swiped overhead, severing a few strands of his hair.
Enkrid twisted his body, kicking backward.
Crunch.
His heel crushed the spider's head.
A smaller creature crawled forward, using scythe-like forelegs to strike at his left foot.
Enkrid retracted his kick and sent it flying upward.
The scythe-like limb stopped just short of his boot, the reinforced steel of his footwear smashing into the spider.
Bang!
The smaller monster burst, its black ichor splattering over his boot.
Big ones, small ones, medium ones—venom-spitters, thread-shooters, blade-limbed terrors, relentless chargers, burrowers, sneaky ambushers. There were plenty to kill.
Enkrid glimpsed a fraction of the future. And swung accordingly.
Aker slashed downward as Spark returned to its sheath, replaced by the gladius, which pierced the ground.
Simultaneously executing two maneuvers, he leaped to the side.
Clang!
A chain with a weighted end struck where he had just stood—Luagarne's support.
Landing in the heart of the enemy horde, Enkrid dodged swiping limbs and parried strikes with his blade's flat edge, deflecting them effortlessly.
His overwhelming skill made the impossible possible. Though reckless, madness done right could become greatness.
For the line between lunatic and hero was razor-thin. Enkrid walked that line now.
Dodging, blocking, and positioning himself perfectly, he stood amidst the monsters.
Enkrid, squeezing Aker with both hands, swung it fiercely through the masses of monsters. His strike carried the centrifugal force of a two-handed sword technique. The blade cleaved through the monsters like a tempest.
Everything the blade touched was sliced and cut. With a single strike, Enkrid had created a hole in the heart of the monster swarm. The area around him became empty in an instant, as if a vacuum had formed.
He took a breath and flicked the blade into the air, blood splattering onto the ground. After repeating the day's battle, he had learned the monsters' patterns. Through instinct and intuition, he had drawn his own picture over the memorized patterns.
Having understood the monsters' nature and predicted their movements, he painted a picture on the battlefield with their black blood as his paint. Normally, it would be impossible to know all of a monster's habits, but not today.
Today was the day Oara would die. Today was the day he would die, the day Rem, with a hole in his stomach, lay in wait. The day Aishia's neck would be severed, the day Lua would die with her heart pierced, the day Roman would die without being able to do anything. There were countless such "todays."
This today had accumulated experience and condensed it into one human being. For this reason, at least on this stage, Enkrid was the most experienced hunter.
'Not bad,' he thought.
The more he moved, the looser his body felt. He wasn't fatigued, even though he had used moments of Will, Giant's Strike, and the Will of the Severing Blade.
Enkrid didn't stop. For a moment, he forgot about Rem, forgot about Oara, and just kept running. He swung the sword and moved his feet, fighting without pause. This was his moment to prove himself, and there were those watching him.
Milio was waiting in front of the castle gate, unaware of what was happening ahead. Just as the gates were about to open, he heard someone shout for them to close, but there was no reason to follow that order.
Still, he almost moved to obey the command, only to stop. "Close it."
At that moment, Oara's voice rang out. Milio, even without the knight's order, thought he might have followed the cry from the front, even if he wasn't sure why.
"We'll go up to the wall. Everyone, grab your bows."
Milio spoke to his unit and started moving.
'Admor, that bastard, hasn't died yet, has he?'
Although Enkrid had jumped in, it was still his own judgment to send him out. A subtle worry settled in his mind.
Of course, it wasn't the time for such thoughts. Didn't they have monsters swarming like never before? It was a large-scale wave.
Oara and everyone had stepped into the battlefield, and Milio couldn't let worrying about one comrade ruin the task at hand. Milio took another step.
He knew there was no need to rush, but his feet moved faster by themselves.
'Why aren't they shooting?'
To reduce the number of monsters, the common sense of Thousand Brick said to shoot arrows before the monsters closed in. Yet, no arrows had flown. Not yet.
Milio quickened his pace and soon stood on the wall. Behind him, he grabbed his bow and prepared to nock an arrow. Now, all he had to do was wait for the signal to shoot.
Though Oara was present, the command fell to someone else. In any case, when the knights went into battle, they always had someone to command the archers from behind. That was how Thousand Stone had survived.
Milio saw the one who was supposed to give orders unable to speak.
The soldier supposed to wave the flag and make signals was also in the same state.
No, even Oara was the same.
"Crazy bastard," Oara muttered, twisting her lips upward.
Oara always smiled, but the real joy behind her smile was different.
It was a subtle difference only Milio knew, gained through long observation. Oara's smile reading was one of Milio's specialties.
And right now, Milio saw that Oara was genuinely excited.
Naturally, his gaze shifted forward.
There was a time he had witnessed a fight between a squire and a semi knight, a red-caped semi knight of the Order.
The semi knight, with all his power in his legs, leaped forward and charged.
The sword strikes were as graceful as butterflies, and his movements were as swift as lightning. A single fighter tore through the battlefield. When a semi knight entered the fray among ordinary soldiers, such power was possible.
It was the kind of strength that could turn the tide of a battle.
Milio hadn't seen that fight himself. He could only see what was before his eyes.
But something similar was happening now.
It was outside the castle gate.
The reason Oara was smiling was clear.
Amidst the monster swarm, a sole man was cutting through everything in sight, his only ally nearby was a Frog trailing behind.
The Frog's fight didn't even catch the eye.
In a place where Milio himself wouldn't last more than a few exchanges, a figure wielded a sword—slicing, thrusting, cutting, and breaking.
He rampaged on the right side, and when a loud crash came from the left, he had already changed positions.
Where he had struck, black earth rose into the air.
Before the dust could settle, four monsters had their skulls pierced.
What kind of human could do such a thing?
Nearby torches flickered wildly, casting light on his actions.
Milio had seen few soldiers who had been so close to the Order's fights.
Therefore, he understood: squires and knights-in-training were not invincible. They, too, needed rest and food to function properly.
Milio felt the sweat on his palms. His heart raced. A strange exhilaration surged through him.
He didn't know what that person was fighting for, but if asked who was at the front of the battlefield now, Milio would confidently answer:
Boom.
"Oara."
The soldier stomped his foot and shouted the battle cry. "Oara!"
Another soldier echoed the cry. Soon, many voices followed suit.
The cheer spread. It was a cheer for one person.
Everyone in the city, everyone on the wall, watched as one heart, united, gazed at the battlefield. Even Oara herself.
"Enkrid!"
They shouted the name of one person. It was a strange thing.
Hadn't the fighting Enkrid showed just now been any different from what the Order had shown before?
No, it wasn't. Yet, the way that man fought stirred something in their hearts.
The heart raced. The chest warmed. The head felt light.
Exhilaration surged through their bodies. Milio believed he could kill anything on this battlefield.
Even with the twin moons hanging high, no one looked up.
No one spoke of danger.
They were only watching the lone figure cut down the monsters before them.

Comments

Loading...