Anomaly
Anomaly
Even though that bastard had unilaterally declared it with no communication whatsoever, not a single Demonfolk ran.
My chest was practically swelling with awe at the Demonfolk's sublime sense of duty. Yeah, you crossed all the way to the Empire, not just Itisel, to carry out a special mission—no way you'd turn back over something like this.
As I watched the bastards close the encirclement, holding their stances as if they'd steeled their resolve long ago, the state of my body I confirmed was still near its worst condition.
My limbs were heavy, the Magic Power I'd forcibly drawn out showed no signs of recovering properly, and unlike what I'd thought—that sleep would make things a little better—my body was running a fever.
Still, I couldn't just stand still and die. I feigned composure as best I could, gripped the scabbard, and studied the bastards.
When you gather just five people, you'll find at least one piece of trash among them, so six of them with not a single piece of trash was bullshit.
Above all, the Demonfolk member who seemed to be the leader had already spoken words that showed he was resolved for death, so they weren't thinking they'd beat me lightly. Whether that was because they were weak or because the one I'd killed was a strong bastard with such solid standing, I couldn't tell, but that alone gave me enough of a chance.
Just one bastard. Please, just one of you flinch.
As I prayed that, I reinforced my body with the Magic Power that had recovered even a little, and deliberately drew my sword with a loud, swift motion.
When a group surrounded an opponent they considered stronger than themselves and their unease wouldn't fade, if that opponent suddenly moved, the reactions of those who were supposed to coordinate under someone else's orders rather than judge and act on their own could only be three kinds.
The psychopathic killer who held still and thoroughly waited for orders; the warrior who shifted their center of gravity forward, ready to lunge ahead at any moment; and the coward who stiffened or pulled back, their stance falling apart even briefly.
Even if it was just the act of drawing a sword, from the encircling side the best move was to preempt before the weapon was drawn, so they had no choice but to be on guard. And if even the act of drawing the sword was so fast that they couldn't even react properly, they'd be even more on edge.
And, truly luckily, the coward who flinched in line with my expectations was positioned at the far left end of my vision.
The unfortunate part was that the rest, excluding that one, reacted like psychopathic killers who didn't budge and only waited for orders. But I shoved that worry aside for the moment and charged at the coward.
"Ghk!"
He clearly hesitated and pulled back as I rushed at him, targeting him—visible even in the darkness. The leader bastard signaled with something like a whistle and reacted instantly, but I could still move faster than them for now.
Even if I charged, there were limits to how fast I could move with Magic Power wrapped around a body that was five minutes from total collapse, so the fact that they couldn't keep up was very hopeful news.
Of course, I couldn't keep maintaining this state and fight them all, so it wasn't entirely hopeful either!
"Haaap!"
The coward moved reflexively in time with the leader's whistle. And like a reaction carved into his body through countless repetitions, he swung his sword to split my head vertically.
Demonfolk swordsmanship wasn't all that different from human swordsmanship. No matter how physically superior they were, as long as they had a humanoid form, techniques were pretty much the same. Unless they'd transcended the ordinary realm, but since they were weaker than the leader I'd killed, wouldn't that make them soldiers?
In other words, the moment I caught his sword with my crossguard and redirected it, the outcome was already decided.
Just parrying the blow point so he couldn't pull back, then using only wrist strength to whip a short slash across his head was enough to split his crown. Under normal circumstances, it would've been an attack that merely caused a big wound, but with a body reinforced by Magic Power, there was no mercy. Other bastards might have countered with technique, but the one who'd already panicked didn't have that kind of composure.
Unlike that bastard who couldn't even react properly and collapsed with his eyes rolling back, the other Demonfolk who'd already grasped the situation came at me almost simultaneously.
The sight of them not even shouting a single curse even as a comrade died right in front of them was horrifying beyond words. Not because their heartlessness was horrifying, but because the fact that they were skilled enough to swing a sword without being emotionally swayed was horrifying.
Even at full strength, it would've been a hassle if I didn't start by ambushing and killing two of them. The situation I had to deal with now was far, far more horrifying.
-KRA-KOOM!
Another lightning strike nearby bleached the world white, but unfortunately it hadn't struck behind me. If it had, at least some of them would've closed their eyes. Instead, it just gave us all a chance to confirm each other once.
And that was a really bad situation for me.
"He's injured!"
"Both arms and the right leg!"
In that brief instant, with an accuracy that was almost admirable, the bastards had assessed me and shouted out what each had confirmed, pushing in even more aggressively. Unlike me, who had been scrambling to grasp the surrounding terrain while using the bright flash, they seemed to be acting while looking only at me.
I wanted to let loose a string of curses, but I had absolutely no room for that.
"Press him! The captain's death was not in vain! We'll execute the Hero here!"
Fucking hell. I'd never once said I was a Hero, and look at these bastards labeling me a Hero. I was already exhausted and half-dead, and as they got more and more emboldened, I was frantically busy just blocking and dodging.
Then, one bastard, maybe having received an excessive courage buff, burst through the coordinated attack and leaped out.
"Die!"
What kind of angle had he seen, anyway? The angle for his own grave plot?
My stamina wasn't drained enough that I couldn't avoid his reckless thrust, so it was fine up to the point where I struck his sword aside, dropped my stance, and sliced through his throat—but the leader bastard's sword also reached me.
A dizzying pain rode up my right forearm, jolting my fading consciousness awake, and barely pulling my body out to put distance between us again happened almost simultaneously.
Even I thought it was a fast movement that seemed impossible in my current body condition, enough that even the bastards were grinding their teeth.
"God damn it, still!"
"Don't charge in! Bleed him dry!"
Regardless, their command was cold and level-headed. As expected, you've got to strike the head first. Not being able to launch an ambush while conserving stamina was the regret of a lifetime.
The wound on my right arm wasn't a cut tendon, but it was still quite large. I wanted to be grateful that my left hand wasn't injured, but with the situation growing more and more hopeless, that was easier said than done.
Even in the middle of that, the leader bastard, maybe to make sure they didn't let their guard down, shouted at his subordinates.
"With four of us it's possible! He can't even run properly in this darkness! Don't go for a finishing blow...?"
I was glaring at the bastard, fervently wishing for the ability to kill with a glare to manifest because I hated the sight of him so much.
And an arrow sprouted from his throat. Neither I nor he could follow the sudden change, and we just froze dumbly.
An arrow? All of a sudden?
"Gheok! Haah!"
"C-Captain?!"
"Ambush! There's an amb... Ghk!"
No, there hadn't been one. If there had been, would I have gone through all this shit?
But before I could even grasp the situation, another arrow flew in and lodged precisely in another one's chest. And while the two remaining Demonfolk, having witnessed that, fell into complete panic and couldn't go forward or back, two more arrows came flying and punched perfectly into both their heads.
In this absurd situation where a powerful fighter who could accurately target only Demonfolk and shoot arrows in this darkness had suddenly appeared through the downpour, I adjusted my grip on my sword and sharpened my nerves as much as possible.
There was no guarantee those arrows had only targeted Demonfolk, so I thought it was an eminently reasonable reaction. Wasn't it actually more likely that a psychopath who saved the tasty-looking morsel for last had come out through the downpour to hunt?
"Eldi!"
Tearing all those possibilities to shreds, the person who appeared was someone I'd never imagined in the slightest.
"Big Sis...?"
For a moment I thought I'd fallen under illusion magic or was seeing a vision before death, but the weather was way too fucked up for that, so I knew it was real. And the platinum-blonde hair that shone even in the darkness approached so vividly it was hard to dismiss as a hallucination.
Asilie, who had run through the darkness, crashed into me at full speed and hugged me. The breath was knocked out of me, but I could only laugh.
"Hahaha. No, seriously, how?"
"That's not what matters right now!"
Adeptly using spirits to raise light, manipulating water to create a space isolated from the downpour, and then holding my face in both hands to examine it—that was unmistakably Asilie.
"What were you thinking, going into an unknown gate! Good heavens, your limbs are torn to shreds!"
I had no idea how she knew, but seeing Asilie's face brought a sense of relief like no other. Asilie supported me and sat me back down beneath the cliff, then took all sorts of herbs and bandages from the pouch at her waist and examined my wounds.
"Just who did you fight to get this hurt? Are those the only enemies? Is there another pursuit squad?"
"No. Probably not. The most dangerous bastard's already dead, and it seemed like those guys were chasing me while only half convinced."
Because the tension had suddenly drained away, the pain from the wounds felt all the more vivid, but strangely my face didn't twist up.
"Anyway, big sis, aren't you a little too deeply tied to my brushes with death?"
"You're in this state and you're cracking jokes?!"
Even as I watched Asilie reflexively smack my shoulder, I could only laugh.
God, thank you.
You were still there, you son of a bitch.