Chapter 164: Wielding the Sword
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 164: Wielding the Sword
Just as a gnoll lunged with a crude spear, Encrid’s sword traced a sharp arc, cleaving through both the spear shaft and the beast’s chest in a single stroke.
Crack! Thud!
The two sounds rang out simultaneously as the gnoll’s chest split wide open. Thick, black blood—the hallmark of monsters—poured from its yellow fur. Encrid flicked his sword, spraying the gore clinging to his blade onto the beast's spotted hide.
The split-chested gnoll gurgled, foaming black blood from its mouth.
Crack!
A whip lashed out next. It snagged the neck of a hyena demonic beast lunging at a fallen worker and flung it into the air. The creature soared high, flying a great distance before crashing down right in the middle of the pack. Landing hard on the roof of a nearby house, the beast let out a sharp yelp and rolled off the edge.
"Lua is a name only a lover calls me, you know?"
Luagarne spoke, reacting to the name. She was already clad in her Heart Armor, though when she had put it on was anyone’s guess. Her eyes brushed past the gnoll’s corpse. Though it hadn't been intentional, Encrid's strike had split its heart perfectly.
She casually averted her gaze. Her immense experience as a Frok showed even in that small gesture. That was who she was—a master of the orthodox sword style and a veteran Frok.
"Hey, I’ve got to go."
"...Where?"
To think a Frok like her would leave at a moment like this? And so suddenly?
"Cultists."
Cultists? Before he could even ask what she meant—
Gurgle.
Luagarne’s cheeks puffed out like a balloon. It was an expression of emotion resembling anger or regret, but there was no way Encrid could know that.
Luagarne dashed forward. With a loud boom, she kicked off the ground and vanished into the distance. Dirt erupted like a fountain from where she had stood. The Frok’s body left afterimages as she surged forward. A few hyena demonic beasts tried to block her path, but it was a futile effort.
She became a streak of emerald light.
Thud-thud-thud!
The pack of hyena demonic beasts that collided with the tip of her streak was sent flying in all directions. Watching them soar through the air felt incredibly surreal. It was a feat born of monstrous strength—a stunt only a Frok, who could ignore minor wounds, could pull off.
Encrid focused his gaze on where she was heading. There was indeed something there. No, it was a familiar face—someone he had seen during his three days here. The man who had been tagging along right behind the blacksmith, Deutsch.
"Kyaaa!"
Esther stood protectively in front of a worker who had collapsed in shock.
Encrid pulled his gaze back. The area in front of him was packed with gnolls and hyenas. This was no time to leisurely watch the distance, nor was it the time to ask what cultists were.
"What is this?" Krais muttered from behind.
There wasn't even time to reply. The gnolls had begun to swarm right in front of him.
"Phew."
Exhaling, Encrid planted his left foot, pivoted through his ankle, knee, and waist, and unleashed his sword. A rotational slash from the Heavy Sword Style struck the approaching gnoll.
Thwack!
As the blade severed the upper body from the lower, black blood and entrails spilled onto the ground. The halved corpse flew to Encrid’s left, momentarily halting the gnolls’ charge, but only for a second.
One of the gnolls stepped over the corpse and swung a war hammer. Several more lunged behind it, tongues lolling as they sprayed saliva. Encrid wasn't wearing any armor; he held nothing but a single sword. The situation was as bad as it could get.
"They keep coming!" Krais shouted.
Encrid once again split his breath and raised his sword. It was the start of a chaotic melee where there was no time to breathe, let alone speak.
* * *
In this world, there are things that cannot be compromised, things that cannot be ignored, and things that can never be forgiven.
For Luagarne, the cultists were exactly that. A crazy, fanatical group believing their god lived in the Demon Realm. A target of revenge that must not be allowed to escape.
Therefore, the moment she saw the cultists, Luagarne lost her mind. It was true she was highly experienced, enough to speak of the "heart" with her own mouth, but she was still a Frok—a race that unleashes the desires and urges boiling in their chests.
The bastards who killed her second lover.
Back then, she had sworn on her heart: she would kill every cultist she laid eyes on. To Luagarne, this was more important than anything else. First, beat them to death, and then return.
That was her goal, but... she was held back. The cultist was more resourceful than she had expected.
"Crazy Frok bastard," the pursued cultist sneered, his lips twisting into a sinister smile.
Had she fallen for his bait? No, it was simply time to break their arrogance. However, since she wouldn't be able to return to Encrid right away...
Don't die.
She could only hope.
* * *
Immediately after Luagarne left, the monsters swarmed like water rushing from a burst dam. Encrid tried to step forward to buy time, but it was impossible. There were simply too many of them.
"Guuu!"
With a strange cry, a short war hammer aimed for his head. It was a weapon with an iron weight attached to the end; if it hit, it wouldn't just end with pain. Stepping back, he swung his sword from bottom to top—a reverse vertical slash.
Thud!
Encrid split his opponent’s jaw and half of its head vertically. Then, using the sword’s pommel as a blunt weapon, he smashed the head of a hyena lunging from the left.
Crack!
The hyena, which had jumped aiming for an opening, fell flat to the ground. The sensation of crushing a walnut remained vividly in his hand; its skull had surely shattered. There was no time to check.
This time, it was the right. Three flashing blades flew in, seeking a home in Encrid’s flesh. The gnoll bastards were damn well-coordinated. Encrid swung his sword three times with desperate speed. If he couldn't block them, he had to strike them away.
Summoning his concentration, Encrid’s eyes flashed. He parried two of the incoming strikes.
Clang-clang!
Since there was no opening to block the third, he twisted his body to dodge, only for a spearhead to suddenly thrust toward his stomach. Encrid immediately brought his sword down, striking the middle of the spear shaft.
Thud.
He stopped the spear, but...
Thwack!
In that gap, a hammer fell on his shoulder. He couldn't possibly block this. Even with his blade-sense sharpened, there was no way he could perceive every single attack in this chaos. It was an attack from his blind spot.
If he stopped because he was hit, he would die. His instincts told him so, and his sixth sense agreed.
Encrid threw his weight backward as if falling. Then, reversing his grip on his sword, he slammed the pommel over his left shoulder.
Thud!
At the heavy blow, the gnoll behind him let out a pained cry. Encrid, pretending to fall, suddenly sprang up and swung his sword to the right. A hyena demonic beast was lunging forward. If the first one that aimed for his neck was bold, the ones that followed were persistent. This one aimed for his wrist.
Immediately after splitting the head of the lunging hyena, Encrid’s heart surged in the midst of the danger.
Composure. Boldness.
The Beast’s Heart anchored Encrid’s mind. The moment he perceived his surroundings, his blade-sense stimulated his sixth sense beyond his physical limits.
Time slowed down.
The weapons of the gnolls in front of him fell toward his body in sequence: spear, gladius, battle axe, and hammer. He saw lines connecting point to point—the threads dividing life and death.
Encrid swung his sword along those lines.
Thud! Slice! Crunch! Thud!
It was a feat performed by a well-honed blade. The head of the foremost gnoll was taken with a snap strike to the crown. For the second, he smoothly drew the sword downward, slicing its neck. For the third, he raised his sword in an instant and brought it down, cleaving through the collarbone to the heart. For the fourth, he ripped the sword out and swung it diagonally, cutting deep through the ribs and belly.
In an instant, he had killed four of them. The ground was drenched in black blood.
But the gnolls were the epitome of persistence. They used their comrades’ deaths as cover to thrust spears from behind. Occasionally, the hyena demonic beasts added to the pressure. When aiming for the wrist failed, they aimed for the thigh; when he swung to kill them, they aimed for the shin.
It reached a point where counting the number of gnolls was meaningless. He didn't even have the luxury to worry about others. Encrid focused his entire mind on the task at hand: cutting and thrusting, over and over.
The techniques of the Heavy Sword Style flowed smoothly, splitting heads and bodies. Yet, even though he fought a desperate battle against over ten of them at once, the number of surrounding monsters remained the same.
He was out of breath, and his heart was pounding. Above all, variants began to appear among the gnolls—creatures a head taller than the others, stronger and harder to kill.
One variant approached and swung a studded wooden club from top to bottom.
"Guuu!"
I can't dodge.
Instant judgment.
Leap.
Thud!
He unleashed the secret technique he had been saving. Activating the Heart of Monstrous Strength, Encrid swung his sword upward without hesitation.
Boom!
An explosive sound erupted. As if a spell had gone off, the variant gnoll’s club was blasted upward. Encrid lunged with his entire body toward the gnoll’s exposed neck. A one-handed thrust became a ray of light, piercing a hole through the beast's throat.
Squelch!
Thrusting and pulling back was a single motion. If he lost his sword, he lost everything.
This time, two more variants lunged from the side. Every gnoll in the vicinity was flashing yellow eyes filled with bloodlust, malice, and greed.
What could he do against them? What was possible?
He didn't know. All he could do was swing his sword.
* * *
Esther knew something was wrong.
There are too many. This is a disaster-scale colony.
It was too late to run. The panther’s eyes scanned the area behind her. The massacre was in full swing; humans were dying everywhere.
"S-spare me!" one cried, before his neck was pierced by a gladius. Another was bitten and torn apart alive by a hyena. A gnoll stabbed its spear repeatedly into a corpse that had already collapsed, letting out a low, joyful grunt.
The wooden fence was high, but once the monsters breached it, the village was no longer a sanctuary—it was a dinner plate. Some humans ran toward the watchtower, hoping the high ground would buy them time, but it was a death trap.
And the monsters aren't the only problem.
Esther’s eyes narrowed. Atop the watchtower, a man from the former mercenary group was smiling as he shot arrows—not at the monsters, but at the humans trying to climb up.
Twang, thud.
A man hit by an arrow fell to the ground, his head shattering upon impact, becoming instant food for the hyenas. Everyone trying to climb met the same fate.
"Kyaaaa!"
Esther finally showed her strength. With a kick of monstrous strength, she crushed a gnoll’s head. Jumping forward, she slashed and stabbed several hyena demonic beasts with her claws.
Thud! Squelch! Crunch!
Even though she killed over ten of them, the wave did not end. This was an abnormal monster colony, something caused by human intent.
Someone is playing tricks.
Esther was a mage with a Spell World. Her intuition told her this was intentional. Still, there was nothing she could do immediately. She moved endlessly, soon realizing her limits. There were simply too many. If she stayed to fight, she would die.
"We have to break through the front! Boss!"
It was the shout of Krais. The man had drawn a shortsword and was holding his own near where his "boss" was raging like a storm.
The surrounding gnolls targeted the most threatening presence first: Encrid.
The man Esther needed was fighting like a hero out of legend. Against the swarming gnolls, he cut, thrust, and killed with a single sword. Gripping near the ricasso to fight with half-swording techniques, he crushed skulls with sheer strength. It was a display of legendary martial prowess.
This is bad.
If she were in her human form with her Spell World intact, it might be different. But in the body of a panther, fighting alongside him would just mean dying together.
Esther climbed onto the roof of a nearby cabin. She hid her presence and watched the man.
I will avenge you.
She made a fresh resolve. She had never felt this way for anyone in her life, but without even realizing it, Esther vowed revenge for the man she assumed was about to fall.