Chapter 457 - Dance
"Draw your bows!"
The command, heard countless times before, rang out. Despite the shared excitement of the moment, the commander carried out his duty.
Millio's gaze turned to one side.
A mass of monsters broke off from the forest, forming a separate group.
The soldiers on the walls were instead filled with relief upon seeing it.
Millio felt the same way.
Finally, the opponent had appeared, one that would send waves of heat, burning through his entire body like a furnace.
"Focus!"
The commander's shout echoed across the walls. Each unit leader repeated the order.
"Focus!"
The archers adjusted their arrows, aiming and preparing to fire. The bows, made from beast bones and tendons twisted into a string, were drawn back.
Twang.
Millio held the taut string, waiting for the signal.
All the soldiers held their positions.
The commander was too focused on determining the scale and numbers of the approaching monsters.
It was night, so it was difficult to get a clear view. Despite furrowing his brow and concentrating, it was still hard to see.
One of his subordinates shot a fire arrow.
The fire arrow flew with a loud whoosh and landed among the enemy's ranks.
The monsters ignored the fire arrow entirely. In fact, the fire arrow did no real damage.
The black earth swallowed the flames.
The fire quickly extinguished.
With just one shot, it was clear that visibility wouldn't improve.
"It's manageable. What we're seeing now is about the middle point, and it's not an overwhelming number. It's not that many."
Compared to the double crescent moon.
The words were swallowed by Oara, a knight standing motionless with her arms crossed on the walls.
Upon hearing her, the commander nodded.
The fire arrow shot earlier would serve as a guide for everyone's aim.
They would remember its position.
"Fire!"
At his command, the flag dropped.
Whoosh!
The wind, red moonlight, torches, and elongated shadows tangled together. The commander, watching the flag drop beside the archers, opened his mouth.
"Fire!"
A good archer is someone who can hit their target.
However, a good archer is a different breed from a great bowman.
They were not those who could hit a mark, but those who could shoot precisely to a predetermined spot.
And these were well-trained, excellent soldiers. Archers, equipped with bows.
Arrows tore through the air, raining down on the monster horde.
Arrows with heated, iron-tipped heads pierced the bodies of the spiders, sticking into the ground.
The sound of arrows cutting through the air filled Enkrid's ears. They were not fired from the enemy's side, but from his own.
What did the current situation suggest?
It meant that Rem and Dunbakel had done their jobs properly.
It wasn't just the soldiers like Millio who had been riled up; Roman, Asia, the short blond-haired knight, and the four squires quickly took action.
"I'll hold them here."
Roman grit his teeth and spoke.
"You four, gather around me."
The short blond-haired junior knight stepped between the squires, taking charge. Her weapons were daggers and poison.
She was in the right position.
Roman and Aishia moved in sync.
Roman became the spear, delivering powerful strikes, while Aishia became the shield, cutting down spider legs that attacked.
They made a good pair.
The monsters were many, and the double crescent moon had risen.
"We'll kill them all."
Roman didn't hide his rising spirit. Turning his back to a torch, he struck down with his sword.
Whoosh, bang!
His greatsword crushed six spiders in a single blow.
Before that, Aishia had slashed in and out, pushing back the monsters.
It was a relentless process of killing and attacking. Enkrid sensed something outside his field of awareness.
Something sharp rose from below, aiming for his abdomen. He barely caught the movement and reflexively drew his Gladius, deflecting it.
The technique involved twisting his left wrist and using a flowing parry.
Thud, clang!
He deflected it, but the blow was heavy, like that of a giant. It could have cut him open if his armor hadn't held up.
The arm of a monster had come at him like a blade, its end tipped with poisoned claws.
A ghoul.
Its name was...
"Jericks!"
Oara's shout echoed from the walls.
If left unchecked, Oara would come in and fight. It would be the same as any other day.
Therefore, from now on...
'I'll hold my ground.'
Enkrid didn't intend to give up this fight.
"Roman! Wait!"
Enkrid's shout rang out just as a similar monster appeared before Roman.
It was a giant spider, a monster with eight sword-like arms.
Everyone was surprised. The enemy showed the same overwhelming presence as a knight.
Amidst the shock, a shadow rose from behind the squires. It was an owl bear.
Enkrid hadn't anticipated all the events.
But there was one thing he knew—whenever a battle like this unfolded, the owl bear would always target a weak spot first.
For example, if a squad was stationed on the wall, they'd always be the first to be targeted.
So now, it was aiming for the squires.
Before the shadow could fully rise, Enkrid had already predicted the move. He shouted to Roman and leaned back.
He saw the four squires.
Torches, shadows, red moonlight, the short blond-haired knight, the positions of the squires.
He took in everything, and then caught sight of something moving behind Oliver.
Oliver had been panting heavily, exhausted. His endurance was lacking.
The owl bear was targeting that weakness.
Enkrid turned his gaze, extending his right leg out and pivoting his body in a half-circle. He thrust his left hand forward. His sword, now perpendicular to the ground, cut through the red moonlight in a sharp arc.
Whoosh!
As soon as he threw the sword, Enkrid didn't bother correcting his balance but completed a full spin, slashing horizontally with Aker.
Clang! Thud!
Two sounds hit his ears simultaneously.
One was from the owl bear, and the other from right in front of Enkrid.
Aker struck the ghoul's claw, while the owl bear blocked the downward strike by crossing its arms in front of its chest.
Its feathers were slightly torn, and black blood oozed, but it was not a fatal blow.
The Gladius bounced off and fell to the ground.
It felt like lately, the Gladius hadn't been used to cut through anything. Yet, the sword had done its job.
Enkrid raised Aker horizontally again, bringing it up to face level.
His blue eyes gleamed, cutting through the red moonlight.
The ghoul retreated a step, surprised by the blocked attack.
Was it stunned by the block?
It was a monster, driven entirely by instinct, trained in the art of slaughter.
It wasn't capable of such intelligence.
Strangely enough, its name suited it.
"Madness."
Luagarne's muttering came just a moment too late.
He understood the meaning behind the words. Enkrid had turned his back on a knight-level monster to save his allies.
It was a mad act.
And that's why it was exhilarating.
'Ah, this is so fun.'
Enkrid didn't hide his feelings. There was no need to.
He was shattering everything these monsters wanted, piece by piece.
And that, in itself, was a reward.
Enkrid laughed.
Things had gone as expected so far.
But would everything go exactly as planned?
The chances were low.
'I can't predict everything.'
Things never flow exactly as expected. Of course.
Today repeats, but it is never quite the same.
Yet, some things remain unchanged.
'Ghoul, Owlbear, Spider.'
Three forms of monsters, dog-like creatures, and sacrificial offerings for hunting knights remain the same.
Then there's the fragment of Balrog, a trickster in this game.
So, what is it that needs to be done?
It was already decided.
"Your mother really must be a ghoul."
Enkrid muttered useless words. The ghoul exhaled, its breath filled with a poisonous aura.
Its claws and maw both poisoned.
"Brush your teeth sometime."
Enkrid spat out another crazy remark.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
Luagarne asked.
Yes, it was fine. This was like warming up before exercise.
It was like the rituals performed before a sacrificial ceremony.
Provocation by words didn't seem to work, but the provocation by action seemed effective.
Look at this. Someone like you doesn't matter whether you're in front or behind, as I deliver a blow to that Owlbear brat in the back. It's a provocation that says, "I won't fall to someone like you."
The ghoul growled again. Enkrid could feel the annoyance of the monster as it didn't go as it desired, and he smiled wide.
"Do you want to get the nickname 'The Laughing Enkrid'?"
Even Luagarne tensed up.
It was that kind of monster.
Enkrid, with a smile, thought of his goal.
To send out Oara, unscathed, with no exhaustion.
To send out a smiling Oara.
If the enemy wanted a non-smiling Oara, a shell deprived of its will, then Enkrid would show them Oara, full of substance.
"What's the bet?"
Only then did Roman's voice come through.
He opened his mouth, cautious of their surroundings.
Enkrid felt Oara's presence coming from behind. She didn't hide her momentum.
The usual pressure. Her imposing aura spread outward, pressing on everyone in front.
Some nearby spider monsters were knocked back as they saw Oara.
She didn't even draw her sword.
"That one's mine."
She said, her voice full of clear will.
Enkrid rejected that strong will.
"Let's follow order."
A brief silence pressed on their shoulders. A wordless pressure. Enkrid rejected that as well.
Oara broke the silence and asked.
"Do you not need help?"
"Just cheer for me."
Enkrid replied, without taking a breath. It was a statement of his already set path.
This was his fight, his will.
He was stubborn, determined, and resolute.
You want to hunt Jericks?
Now, he was not your prey.It was my prey.
A will close to obstinacy grew and became his momentum.
There was no red cloak, but the back of one who could be a knight was visible to Oara.
"A strange bastard."
Oara said. It almost sounded like a compliment.
Had Oara smiled at her own words? She probably did. There was no time to turn back now.
The ghoul's presence was felt. It was like it was saying, "One wrong move, and you'll feel the kind of strike the knights of Aspen use."
Enkrid opened his chest and spoke with his body.
Try if you dare.
The dice had been thrown, and it was time to check its outcome.
The first repetition of today, that unchanging constant was like the dice roll. In this battlefield, there was something similar.
Then, what was the condition to break through the wall?
It was simple. Survive, and that was all.
As the saying went, the boatman didn't speak, just rowed.
"Run," he said.
It may sound like goodwill, but for Enkrid, it was not.
If all they wished for was for him to survive.
"I never dreamed of such things."
Enkrid muttered again. With those words, his will shone brighter. The stubbornness emanating from his entire body stopped Oara in her tracks.
The ghoul couldn't understand human speech, so it stood there, dazed, after hearing Enkrid's muttering.
Enkrid calmed his breath and focused.
He could imitate a knight's strike.
But would his opponent accept it calmly?
When tense, your shoulders stiffen. So, it was better to relax a bit.
Enkrid fixed his gaze on the ghoul and then finally responded to Roman's earlier question.
"Roman, if you kill a monster before me, I'll acknowledge your face as better than mine."
At a time like this, making jokes was probably insane.
But if one couldn't enjoy such a moment, they wouldn't have made it to the rank of a junior knight.
A knight was a talent one in ten thousand.
A junior knight was also a title that couldn't be reached without similar talents.
If there had been no repeated today.
Now, in a place very little talents could never reach, they discussed wagers and obstinacy.
Enkrid felt the hairs on his body stand on end.
He had never thought that dying was acceptable.
But this was undoubtedly the moment he had been hoping for.
A life dedicated to guarding those behind him.
The life of a knight, as sung by minstrels.
"I want to be a knight."
That one sentence became his dream, torn and faded but now renewed, shining once more.
"Accepted."
Roman's response was heard.
Sometimes, a man needed the acknowledgment of his rivals.
"So should I just cheer for you?"
Oara spoke from behind. There wasn't the same resolve in her voice as before.
But she would intervene whenever. Her momentum was brimming with energy.
Enkrid knew Oara's weakness. She couldn't fight for long if poisoned.
Her endurance wasn't knight-like.
So, the one dancing on this battlefield would not be Oara. She wouldn't draw her sword now.
"I'll do my dance, then."
Enkrid replied, swinging his sword.
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