Chapter 294
Chapter 294
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.63 – A Knight's Valor Knows No Recklessness (4)
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- ["A 'knight' is one who single-handedly changes the tide of the battlefield."]
It was a legend passed down only in the south.
Originally, among the expressions used to describe knights, there were phrases like "one with the strength of a thousand" or "one possessing the valor of a man against ten thousand."
Of course, there was no knight who truly possessed the power of one against ten thousand, but there were knights who could at least fulfill the role of a hundred men.
A title given to a knight who represented the territory and claimed victory in thirty duels. Even such champions would probably have to pull all-nighters just to identify the true elites.
However, to say it plainly: the existence of champions could sway the tide of battle.
For instance, in territorial wars, it was no exaggeration to say that the soldiers' morale was determined by whether a champion was present.
It was the power of fame—the result of the sheer presence commanded by an individual knight who had triumphed in more than thirty duels.
...In that sense, Modred paid no heed to the existence of champions.
No, of course, it wasn't that they disregarded knights.
Wasn't Ganok, the leader of the White Ghosts they so revered, the very champion Modred boasted of?
Yet they showed no respect for champions because of the hard lesson learned over a thousand defensive battles.
This was because they had learned firsthand that no matter how strong a knight might be, they were helpless against sheer numbers—and that even a knight's prowess paled before a systematic army.
Especially since Modred's forces were armed with the latest cutting-edge weapons. Five soldiers employing coordinated tactics and firepower could easily take down one or two knights.
Moreover, no matter how exalted the fame, it held no sway over monsters.
Five years ago, they might have felt respect or fear toward renowned knights, but now—at least in Modred—no one trembled before famous knights or champions.
Their fangs had been honed to pierce the nape of the great evil spirit.
...However.
"There it is... the real thing..."
A cryptic mutter from someone.
Yet strangely, everyone understood the meaning behind it.
Kwaaaang!
Small monsters swept away by another volley of boulders.
Puuk!
Medium- and large-sized ones pierced straight through the head or chest by arrows or thrusting spears.
"M-More arrows!"
"Make more spears!"
"...Were spears always this devastating?"
One strike, one kill.
Every time he swung his arms or legs, monsters were felled by the dozens. Before long, a single man had butchered over three thousand in just ten minutes, bringing the rest to a hesitant standstill.
It was terror at the overwhelming presence emanating from one knight—a stark example that even monsters possessed a survival instinct.
Just as dozens of thugs would quiet down before a gun barrel thrust in their faces, the hundred thousand monsters froze, witnessing the mass slaughter unfold in mere minutes.
Frozen by the dread that any movement might make them the next target.
Truly—
"A presence that overwhelms ten thousand."
The subduer of ten thousand.
An embodiment as if the valor of ten thousand had been compressed into one, not a mere thousand.
"Is there any sight more reassuring than this?"
A moment to freshly comprehend why a champion's presence so profoundly influenced soldiers' morale.
Warriors, unable to contain the surging elation in their chests, expressed it through action.
"How long are you just going to watch?! Aid the 'Champion'!!"
With morale piercing the heavens, they unleashed cannon fire and flames without restraint.
Pouring forth the fervor burning in their hearts.
When facing a monster horde, one silver lining was that their legions were ultimately nothing but a motley crew.
Why else call them evil spawn?
They fundamentally lacked cooperation or command structures, built on an ecosystem of the weak devoured by the strong.
The monsters with any semblance of coordination—like goblins or ogres—possessed intelligence akin to a child's. Had the horde been two hundred thousand goblins or ogres alone, it would have posed far greater danger.
But with a mix of types and sizes, it was merely a pseudo-legion bloated by numbers.
The problem was...
...there were far too many. Enough to trigger trypophobia.
Frogmen—frog-like humanoids—trudged through the swamps toward the fortress. Undead ghouls charged through fields of poison plants and traps, heedless of flesh sloughing off or bodies tearing apart, steadily closing in.
Each time:
"Fire!"
"Don't hold back on the firebombs!"
Kwaaaang!
Kwaaang!
Firebombs rivaling grenades detonated amid the monsters, bursting them apart—but for every one felled, more surged forward. Some devoured their own kin to heal or regenerate in grotesque displays.
Even more horrifying:
Crunch crunch crunch!
"G-Giant Frogman!"
"Insane! It e-evolved?!"
Numerous cases erupted where they devoured fellow monsters or superiors, rocketing from juvenile to adult in an instant.
Small ones ballooning into medium or large. And a large Frogman's leap power:
Whoooosh!
Enough to cover a thousand meters in one bound.
Meaning a direct smash into the fortress—or worse, vaulting clean over it.
A dire crisis... but
Slaaash!
"How dare a mere monster covet our fortress."
One Frogman cleaved in half and crumpled.
"Don't dream of breaking through us."
A ferocious wail swept through the monsters.
Those bound by pact to specters—the White Ghosts Shield Knights, Modred's impenetrable guardians—mounted ghost horses, encircling the fortress in defense.
"Not a single one crosses this wall!"
A chilling ghostly cry answered the command, sweeping the area once more. Led by Ganok, the White Ghosts donned helmets shaped like vengeful spirits, while their ghost horses spewed spectral flames in response.
Spirit-forged armor, ghost horses, and spirit medium wielders.
As long as these three elements converged, Modred's knights held absolute superiority against physical assaults.
However,
Craaaack!
...monsters shamelessly overturned that supremacy.
"Damn it, if you're monsters, stick to physical attacks."
"Frost Ghouls, heh. They say encountering one is rarer than a yeti..."
"Not rare. Everyone who meets one freezes solid—that's why the rumors call it rare."
A minute ago, Frogmen had evolved; now Ghouls did too, transforming into ice-spewing Frost Ghouls.
Frost Ghouls wielded freezing power despite being mere Ghouls. Faces naturally twisted in disgust... when
Fwoooosh!
"Giant Ghoul!"
"D-Do Ghouls even have a fire-breathing type?"
"They do now... starting today."
This was why monster hordes inspired dread.
Even as a disorganized rabble with zero cooperation, they kept evolving.
Fearing death was routine; devouring each other to grow and mutate was par for the course.
Thus, monster varieties were endless. Even the weak or small could ascend to terrifying heights unpredictably.
But...
'This... the growth is too rapid.'
No matter how grotesquely swift monster growth could be, such abnormal acceleration was rare.
Even evil spawn were still living creatures.
They needed time to mature, yet it was as if they were forcing it for growth's sake...
"No way... are they burning life force?"
Forcing evolution by expending life force itself?
The knight who pieced it together urgently tried to report to the old knight, but
"Enough. I already know."
"Pardon?"
"...Vicious vermin bastard. Now you're pulling every dirty trick in the book."
The old knight glared ahead with foreboding eyes.
What was he seeing?
No need for such a foolish question.
There was only one being capable of drawing such hatred and loathing from their captain—the former family head and Modred's strongest knight.
"How long will you lurk like a thieving rat?! If you dare call yourself a god, show your face with honor, you filthy pest!!"
Rooooaaar!
A thunderous roar inconceivable from such a slight frame.
Not quite matching that certain knight's lion's bellow, but equal in momentum and laden with intense gravitas.
And the shout of a mighty spirit bearer wielded mystical power on its own,
Craaack!
...Forcing it to manifest in the world.
...For an instant, a hair-raising noise assaulted every ear—five times worse than nails on a chalkboard.
Just hearing the voice made ears ache; some even hallucinated snakes slithering up their spines.
It grumbled softly in complaint.
Annoyed that, despite teaching its name, it was still called a bug.