CHAPTER 298
"Damned bastard, I can finally move a bit."
Rem cursed at someone who wasn't even there and got up.
His ribs were still a mess, and his ankle was creaky.
'I swear I will kill you.'
His body was in a decent enough condition. He wasn't planning on grappling with anyone anyway.
More importantly, if he delayed any longer, that bastard might get killed by someone else or end up killing someone else.
He didn't care if a stray cat, a lazy bum, a giant, or a beastman died, but not the Captain.
'It would be a waste if he died now.'
It would be a shame if that lunatic, whose dream was to become a Knight, died here.
Watching him struggle and rage was entertaining. It still was. Rem was curious if that guy would really become a Knight.
'Well, he probably won't die easily anyway.'
But the opponent was tough. You could say their match-up was bad.
If they fought now, he thought the odds of dying were high. The chances of losing were high too, so he had to be the one to face him.
Moreover, the madman who was obsessed with eternal youth, known as the Madman of Immortality, would be aware of him.
'He won't go on a rampage carelessly after losing track of me.'
He wouldn't dare, knowing he could get caught off guard. If he made a mistake, he'd be taken down.
As he thought this, Rem scanned his surroundings. Fortunately, he spotted a good tree.
He stripped off some bark, rubbed it between his hands, and braided it into a long rope-like cord.
He repeated the process.
When he got hungry, he caught snakes or badgers, and once, he even got lucky and encountered a bear that hadn't gone into hibernation.
For others, a bear might be a ferocious beast, but for Rem...
"Is this a special treat?"
It was just high-quality meat and tough leather.
With a flick, he threw his last remaining axe into the air, caught it, and hurled it forward.
The axe whistled through the air and embedded itself into the bear's skull, splitting it in half.
The bear staggered from the blow, then collapsed with a thud.
The ground shook. It was a beast as big as Audin.
He wanted to skin the bear and wear its hide, but he had no time or energy for tanning, and his ribs still hurt. He couldn't waste his strength on such labor.
After killing the bear, he tore out its gallbladder and ate it raw, washed it down with the bear's blood, then grilled and ate more of its meat.
The stench was strong, but what choice did he have?
He cut some of the hide into square pieces, layered them two or three times, and punched holes in the corners.
The axe he had made by cutting the pike of a centaur leader came in handy for this.
He left the pointed tip above the axe head because of its weight, and it proved useful.
He used it to punch holes in the hide.
Then he threaded the bark rope through.
He let the ends dangle at a length about the width of his outstretched arms.
He swung it a few times through the air.
Not bad.
During this time, he caught snakes and stored their venom in a pouch he carried.
He also picked up some similarly sized stones.
He made bags from bear and snake hides, which he wore slung across his body like a sling bag.
'Labor, labor indeed.'
It had been a long time since he'd worked up such a sweat.
Even though it was winter, sweat was dripping from his forehead. Only then did he search for a stream.
He hated the cold, but if he left his body as it was, he'd get sick. Cleanliness was essential.
After lighting a fire, Rem took a deep breath.
"Whew, let's go."
It was something he had to brace himself for. As soon as he dipped his toes into the icy water, his whole body tingled.
'Ah, you bastard.'
The more he endured, the more his hatred grew. He thought of the bastard who had driven him to this point. It was all because of that Madman of Immortality.
'I will definitely kill you. I will slaughter you like a dog.'
His resentment deepened as he soaked in the cold water.
He clenched his teeth as he washed up, then crushed some velvetleaf and rubbed it on his body before warming himself by the fire.
Tat-tat-tat.
His jaw trembled, and his front teeth clattered uncontrollably.
Even though Rem possessed abnormal strength, he couldn't overcome the cold.
'Should've taken that sorcerer's offer.'
"Damned cold, I regret it at times like this."
It was because of the unbearable cold. If he had learned even a little bit of sorcery, he wouldn't be suffering from this cold.
But there was nothing he could do about it now.
Rem endured, gripping the thermal stone tightly. Once his body dried a little, he wrapped himself in the thermal hide again, and only then did he feel alive.
'Wow, I'm definitely going to kill you.'
Of course, his grudge remained the same. No, it had only deepened.
The preparations were complete.
Rem headed towards the main camp. He wasn't Ragna. Retracing his steps back was nothing, and tracking was one of his specialties.
Gradually, the sounds of battle could be heard.
He gauged the distance and assessed the situation as he emerged from the forest and approached the battlefield at a brisk pace.
The place was swarming with beasts. A red-eyed wolf stared at him.
A few of them growled and charged, trying to create an atmosphere of fear.
Their entire beings exuded a ferocity mixed with primal energy and malevolence, showing what true savagery was.
It would have terrified not just ordinary people, but even seasoned soldiers, but not Rem.
"Get lost."
Rem exerted his presence. It wasn't quite like what a Knight-in-training would display, but it had a similar effect of oppressing the surrounding atmosphere.
He conveyed who he was through sheer force of will.
A few of the beasts hesitated under the pressure, but they didn't flee. Rem walked forward, minimizing his movements as much as possible, and swung his axe.
Vertical, horizontal, diagonal.
In three short axe swings, four beasts were cut down. Not three, but four.
During the second horizontal swing, two heads had been caught.
After taking down a few of the beasts, he finally spotted the one he was looking for.
The one who had been tossing spears into the air.
He had already figured out the trick behind that.
He was using a tensioned wire wrapped around the throwing spear. It was a type of wire not found in the West. No, what kind of fool would mimic a descending weapon with such a trick? That's why he hadn't recognized it at first.
But now, having figured it out, he had also grasped his opponent's character and fighting style.
There was always a reason for someone to step forward confidently.
That weapon was both the guy's specialty and his weakness. At least, that was Rem's assessment.
'You just learned tricks on the continent, you little bastard.'
The wire was nearly invisible at first glance, making the spears seem like they were floating in midair.
"Hey!"
Rem called out to him. The guy who had been running forward looked back.
The guy's pupils dilated as he half-turned his head.
'This bastard ran like hell when I chased him, but now he comes to me?'
It was as if he was saying that.
"You're dead."
When Rem spoke, the Madman of Immortality gave a ridiculous smile, half young and half old.
The Wolf Bishop was just about to run out, as if he was about to be attacked.
A few fanatics around him charged at Rem.
"Infidel!"
"O Lord, for you!"
The axe in Rem's right hand moved again. With two swift swings, two heads flew into the air.
The Madman's eyes carefully observed Rem's movements.
He couldn't have fully recovered from his injuries yet.
Did he sharpen the axe separately? It was unbelievably sharp.
The Madman of Immortality stopped with that same ridiculous smile on his face.
Then he turned around. One of the Wolf Bishop's strengths was his tenacious vitality. He wouldn't die easily. While he holds out, I'll deal with this one first. I can't fight with my back exposed.
A few of the fanatics hesitated.
No matter how they looked at it, it seemed they were no match.
Rem rubbed his ribs and checked the condition of his ankle.
He pressed his toe into the ground and twisted it.
Not bad.
"So, you've come to die."
The Madman of Immortality spoke.
"Yeah, I came to kill you."
Rem didn't back down with his words.
* * *
The Madman of Immortality levitated a spear in the air.
To anyone watching from the side, it would seem like pure magic.
Sorcery, often referred to as the magic of the West.
You had to be able to do something like this to be considered a true inheritor of sorcery lineage.
Of course.
"Hey, that's not even a genuine descending weapon, is it?"
Once you see through the trick, it doesn't seem all that impressive.
"Lunatic."
Rem's senior from the same hometown denied it as he threw the spear.
Even though it was invisible, if you understood the principle, tracking its movement wasn't difficult. At least not for Rem.
An invisible thread was connected to the spear, guiding it forward. The thread was likely attached to his forearm or fingers.
Clang!
When he knocked the spearhead aside with his axe, his side throbbed with pain.
As he lowered his stance, as if preparing to charge, the madman pulled out a second spear.
But that wasn't the end.
The number of spears multiplied. From two to three, then from three to four.
He levitated all the spears he had strapped to his back.
Impressive tricks, you sly bastard.
Rem added the pain in his side to his growing resentment.
The pain from blocking those attacks was all because of that bastard.
"Die, you halfwit."
Four spears, a bear's forearm, and a deer's leg.
Just because he didn't inherit sorcery doesn't mean he couldn't recognize it.
These were traces of a spirit-enhancing ritual. He had integrated sorcery into his spear-wielding technique, elevating it to an art form.
"You cowardly dog, playing your little games from a distance."
Rem commented on his senior's technique with a mix of admiration and mockery, and the madman sneered at him.
The halfwit didn't even have decent combat instincts. He was an idiot.
Had the level of warriors in the West fallen so low? Maybe. He had killed too many of the decent ones when he left.
And aside from that, they had spilled too much blood fighting among themselves.
Anyway,
'If you wanted to win, you should have engaged directly.'
That's what he should have done.
Of course, he had prepared for this moment.
This was the same guy who couldn't block two spears in the previous fight.
At this range, within fifteen paces, his spears could fully demonstrate their power.
In other words, the Madman of Immortality had never lost a fight like this.
Rem slowly began to retreat. The madman watched him closely.
It would be even better if he moved a bit farther away.
The attack range of his spears, connected by the thread, extended beyond twenty paces.
'Not a descending weapon, you say?'
You fool, through experience and training, his spear has become even more divine than a descending weapon.
The madman was confident of his victory.
The four spears responded to the thread tied to his fingers, starting to move.
Lightly hovering, they positioned themselves—two at either side of his head and two at either side of his forearms, a total of four spears danced in the air.
As the spears moved back and forth, they seemed to twitch, eager to burst forward and pierce Rem's body.
'A fool who dares to challenge me without any sorcery powers.'
The Madman of Immortality was a wanderer who had spent his entire life searching for a way to avoid death.
In reality, he was over a hundred years old.
During that time, he had acquired more than just a few things.
The fact that his beloved weapon had become what it was now was partly thanks to the sorcery techniques he had learned in the past.
The process of inscribing sorcery into the thread had been painstaking.
But look at it now.
It had become a weapon that could press and kill opponents just as effectively as any descending weapon.
Rem quietly observed his opponent.
'He really thinks he's won.'
He was confident of his victory. He was complacent, thinking this was his perfect range.
"You're an idiot."
With those words, Rem pulled out the weapon he had prepared.
No sorcery techniques, no invisible threads. But if he could launch a projectile ten times faster than the throwing spear using pure strength, this distance would be his range too.
What he pulled out was a weapon made from twisted bear hide and tree bark.
A sling, as it was called.
Rem took a stone out of the makeshift leather bag slung over his body, placed it in the sling, and began to swing it.
Centering his movement on his shoulder, arm, and hand, the leather whip whirred through the air and moved above his head.
The sling, carrying the stone with centrifugal force, formed a disc above Rem's head.
Wheeeeeeee!
The noise ripped through the air.
For Rem, the sling had been a childhood toy.
In other words, it was a weapon he was very familiar with.
So there was no chance he would miss.
He aimed and extended his arm. The stone, its destructive power doubled by centrifugal force, flew through the air.
Even Rem couldn't clearly see the stone as it flew.
No one in the area could see it properly.
"What the—!"
The madman hastily raised the four spears vertically to form a wall.
A moment of quick thinking and judgment.
Moreover, he was lucky.
Bang!
The stone collided with the spearheads.
The fist-sized stone shattered into dozens of pieces, which rained down on the madman's body.
The fragments struck and scattered over the thick leather armor he wore.
"You lunatic!"
The madman's hands moved frantically.
Just that single blow had pushed the spear wall back with a heavy force. A simple stone had demonstrated a power more potent than sorcery.
How was this possible?
No matter how skilled one was, could a mere stone do this?
It wasn't just a matter of strength.
This was nothing short of a miracle, something that could only be achieved by mastering the sling as if it were an extension of his own hand.
How could anyone throw a sling with such speed and precision?
The madman was both blocking and astonished.
Wheeeeeeee!
A second disc spun above Rem's head. The terrible noise pounded in his ears.
"What, are you just going to watch?"
With that, the second stone flew.
The madman lowered his body. The spears scattered to either side, coming down low.
Even if the throw was accurate, it would be hard to hit if the target was crouched down.
And in that moment, he threw two of the spears.
The spears skimmed along the ground. It was a technique known as 'Dragonfly Wings', where the spears would rise from below.
Two spears flew, while he kept the other two close to his body for protection, just in case.
The Madman of Immortality—a nickname he earned because he neither aged nor wished to die.
To him, his body was the most precious thing of all.
Rem deflected the incoming spears with his axe.
This time, it was different.
With minimal movement, he deflected and redirected them.
It was an axe swing close to the Fluid Sword Technique.
The Fluid Sword Technique wasn't limited to swordsmanship alone, but applied to the handling of all weapons.
However, the flowing technique itself didn't quite match Rem's usual style.
"Where did you learn that trick?"
The madman muttered.
"From someone who kept deflecting my axe."
Rem was a genius. A technique he had seen dozens of times, used against him, there was no reason he couldn't learn it.
He simply hadn't shown it before because it wasn't his main skill.
Now, he had brought it out for minimal defensive movements.
If there were four spears, it might have been different, but he had already blocked two. It wasn't much of a threat. He had already experienced this attack once before.
After easily deflecting the two spears.
Wheeeeeeee!
The third disc spun.
The madman's face turned pale.
No matter how strong the bear was or how fast the leopard was, nothing could be faster or stronger than that single stone.
From the beginning, Rem had assessed the outcome of the fight.
Why engage in close combat with a body riddled with injuries? There was no reason to.
It helped that his opponent was a fool.
'You're an idiot.'
If he had risked half his life and fought up close, the outcome of the battle could have been uncertain. After all, the bear's arm and the leopard's leg were enhanced through spirit rituals meant for such purposes.
But what was he doing now?
Was he trying to show what true foolishness looked like?
If he had closed the distance with determination, gripping the throwing spears in his hands and slashing or hurling them, who knows what might have happened?
By sacrificing part of his arm or body and rushing forward, he could have made it difficult for Rem to land a stone hit, especially since he had the legs of a spirit-enhanced leopard.
But instead, the opponent was too busy protecting his precious self, focusing only on blocking.
He kept his distance, fighting like a shy little kid.
No, even a kid from the West wouldn't fight like that.
The Madman, who had lived too long and accumulated too much, had become someone who couldn't afford to lose anything.
The difference in their mindsets determined the outcome of the battle from the start.
'Ah, idiot.'
If it were Encrid, he would have charged in, risking his life.
The opponent was a fool. A fool who had forgotten how to fight properly.
"To think a halfwit who can't even use sorcery!"
The Madman shouted in anger, but it was a lie. It wasn't anger, it was fear.
Encrid never showed fear, no matter the situation.
He was a pilgrim on the move, a wanderer who never stopped walking, a traveler searching for his path.
And thus, he was also a madman who walked his path without hesitation.
"You're hopeless."
Rem spoke. The comparison between them was stark.
This was the same guy who had just blocked the third stone by raising his spears in a line again.
The impact had sent stone dust and snowflakes meeting in midair, forming a strange gray vortex that quickly dissipated.
Wheeeeeeee!
Rem prepared a fourth sling. But snap! This time, the cord broke before completing its task.
This was a weapon that had endured Rem's strength. That too, with added centrifugal force.
This was normal.
The broken cord dangled to the side, and the Madman's eyes filled with joy instead of fear.
"You fool! A good weapon is part of your strength! And you dared to challenge me with such a lousy tool! Hahaha!"
What is he even saying?
Ignoring the excited Madman, Rem pulled out a second sling from his coat.
Did he really think Rem hadn't anticipated that it might break?
The diagonal sling bag was filled with stones.
And in his coat, he had at least five more slings of the same kind.
'Three left, still good.'
He had expected the cord to break after just two throws.
"What? What? You have more?"
The Madman's eyes quivered.
"Idiot."
Rem mocked his opponent.