Chapter 304
Chapter 304
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.63 – There Is No Recklessness in a Knight's Valor (14)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Death Knight, or Traitor Knight. One who has lost their honor.
The monster known as the Death Knight was one that carried countless derogatory names even among other monsters.
And rightly so, for these were knights in life who had fallen to become monsters, humanity's mortal enemies, sustaining themselves by slaughtering their fellow humans. They were true 'monsters'—traitors to mankind who had forsaken even their honor.
To knights, Death Knights were a stain that defiled chivalry itself, targets that must be slain without fail upon encounter.
...Yet despite this, records of successfully exterminating Death Knights were exceedingly rare.
Why?
Simple. Death Knights retained all the memories and skills from their lives, and they even possessed learning capabilities, making them powerful monsters.
Humanity's sole advantage over monsters was technique, but Death Knights overturned this by wielding techniques themselves, growing ever stronger with the passage of time.
Thus, Death Knights that had lived for centuries or more could no longer be dismissed as mere monsters; they reigned as apex predators.
They had reached realms of swordsmanship that few knights ever attained, and they wielded plundered human life force like battle aura, boasting regeneration and unyielding durability besides.
For these reasons, eliminating a Death Knight was a challenge that even famed knight orders had to stake their fates on.
Yet now, a Death Knight that had lived for centuries had been empowered by a land spirit, transforming into something utterly alien and horrific—a chimera unlike any other monster.
This was no mere powerful beast; it signified the birth of the 'strongest and worst monster'.
In truth, the fact that Garnok and the Hundred Ghosts Shield Knights had held out without a single casualty was an incredible feat.
The 'Death Knight Chimera' was that terrifying an existence.
Crunch!
...It surely should have been.
Whoosh!
The blades and spear tips of the Death Knights writhed like living serpents or butterflies, tracing bizarre trajectories.
The transformations they wrought in the blink of an eye were no exaggeration even for living creatures, and anyone mesmerized by their swordplay would have no grounds to complain if their throat or heart was pierced.
Yet.
Whoosh, whoosh.
"...Is this it?"
The man with gleaming crimson eyes effortlessly evaded them.
Even as over five Death Knights unleashed a barrage of strikes infused with the memories of their bygone eras, he merely...
"Hm, crude."
Tap.
...lightly flicked the flat of his blade as if swatting a fly, dismantling their assault.
No matter how earth-shattering the force behind the attack, it meant nothing if it didn't connect.
"Not much talent in life, were you?"
Clang?!
"Hit a nerve?"
Clang...!
Whoosh. The Death Knights exuded a furious aura.
The tangible battle aura they emitted, akin to fighting spirit, evoked murky sludge—nay, it could well be called demonic energy.
Dark battle aura.
The energy of hellish beings surged forth.
The already menacing presence of the Death Knights intensified...!
Crack!
"I told you, crude. Why can't you grasp it the first time?"
Fwosh!
Yet the spear-wielding knight toyed with them again, as if their threats were laughable.
Blows landed at speeds too fast to perceive, pummeling the Death Knights' bodies.
Boom!
Clang!?
An unpleasant sensation, like being turned into a drum played haphazardly.
Powerlessness and humiliation they hadn't felt since becoming monsters washed over them, but the Death Knights couldn't keep up with their foe's movements.
Toyed with.
The one-sided battle was best described by that single word, dredging up the most unpleasant memory from their lives.
The very reason these former knights had fallen to monstrosity.
-Unreasonable talent!
Genius sorts who rendered all their efforts meaningless.
Beings so absurd they could match fifty years of toil in a single day, crushing them under endless humiliation and defeat.
But after becoming monsters, those so-called geniuses died like insects at their hands.
No matter how great the talent, frail flesh couldn't overcome them.
So why...
Krunch!
...were their bodies being cleaved in two?
...Like insects.
Splatter!
"Made my eyes sore."
The crimson-eyed knight, having diced dozens of Death Knight Chimeras to pieces, clicked his tongue.
As if even facing such ugliness was utterly repulsive.
"Hah..."
"Wh-what the..."
But contrary to his sentiments, the Hundred Ghosts could hardly empathize.
They had staked their lives against these Death Knights. Corrupted traitors to humanity or not, their prowess was undeniably horrifying—skill they had no choice but to acknowledge.
Yet watching this man effortlessly wipe them out left them feeling hollow.
Not that they should say it, but...
'Is that why knights fall? Because of such unreasonableness?'
They could faintly understand the traitors' sentiments.
"Th-that's... the Ferocious Wolf..."
Lark du Duran. Champion of Galahad, one of the top young knights.
Over the past five years in this annex, the Hundred Ghosts had grown immensely strong, confident they could stand against any foe. But now, that confidence waned.
At that moment.
"Haha, feeling hollow is inevitable, but don't surrender to despair or jealousy. Lest that grotesque fate become your own future."
"C-Captain..."
As if reading their hearts, Garnok offered advice laced with warning.
"Don't compare yourself to others. Even if someone is far ahead, keep your own pace. Lose it and force yourself forward, and the end won't be pleasant... You might meet that sort of path."
"......"
"Above all, now's no time for jealousy. Be grateful to the reinforcements who saved us instead. Don't mix up your priorities."
"Y-yes, sir!"
It was a sharp rebuke that grounded them in reality, a quiet reprimand that sank into their hearts, spurring the Hundred Ghosts toward the next battlefield.
As he said, they should be thankful for the sturdy reinforcements, not wallow in powerlessness.
Better to slay one more monster in that time!
"...Still a silver tongue, Sir Garnok."
"Silver tongue? Just common sense. If my martial prowess is lacking, I need something, eh? Haha."
"...You're teasing me."
Ridiculous.
Lacking in martial might?
Anyone calling the vice-commander of the [White Dragon Knights] lacking would be a true fool.
"Haha, dredging up old names like that."
Garnok shrugged nostalgically at the cherished title, but soon...
"Save reminiscing for later. With the young ones performing so admirably, I must hustle too, haha."
"I'll expect great things."
"Heading to your own battlefield?"
"Indeed. ...Though it feels like you've stolen the one where my feats would shine brightest."
"Hahaha!"
Garnok couldn't help but laugh.
Absurd, seeing this man—who had crushed dozens of Death Knights—still unsatisfied.
Yet...
'Yes, that's a knight!'
It was a dashing sight.
This young knight before him, and...
'That reckless youth charging the most dangerous foe.'
Garnok turned his gaze afar.
Kaboooom—!
...To the Black Lion's face, grinning joyfully as he charged the God of War.
Utterly reckless.
'Youth is grand.'
An envy-worthy recklessness.
Rumble...
"......"
Ninshubur scowled at the hulking man charging him.
He had intended to deflect the attack...
'The impact is too immense to deflect.'
An absurdly brute-force impact, impossible to fully redirect.
Ninshubur, who had already met a knight that wrecked his arm today, was dumbfounded to face yet another such brute.
"...What a strange era. Heroes are supposed to be miraculous once per generation, yet..."
Why three in one go?
Ninshubur glared at the giant who had unleashed a strike fiercer than any titan.
A perilously intense aura and...
"Kuhahaha! The world is vast indeed! I thought I'd grown plenty restarting my 'training' from scratch! But I'm still lacking, ahaha!"
...a warrior whose high-pitched guffaws threatened to shatter eardrums.
"Ah, didn't give my name after the 'greeting' strike. Pleased to meet you, ancient evil spirit. I am Maximus Iron de Lionel!"
Thud!!
"The Black Lion of the North—that's me!"
The Northern champion, now 1.5 times larger in height and bulk than yesterday, introduced himself with a cheerful grin. Ninshubur's head tilted in confusion.
"Greeting?"
"A warrior's greeting starts with the blade, of course!"
"...Insane?"
"Not insane—common sense. Remember that, ancient evil spirit."
"......"
Ninshubur experienced the second speechlessness of his life from Maximus's nonsense.
...What were these guys?
'Are all this era's heroes unhinged...?'
Without exception, they were bizarre to the extreme.
More barbaric and grotesque than the ancients...
...The God of War shuddered at the madness of this era's humans.