Chapter 175: Hurry, Get Me Out
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 175: Hurry, Get Me Out
Encrid could describe Luagarne's fighting style in just two words: "Thud" and "Crash."
She threw herself forward, charging straight into the pack of gnolls—a reckless, brutal onslaught devoid of a single shred of thought, much like the brain of a ghoul.
A proper charge was usually defined by a knight striking from atop a warhorse. But looking at Luagarne’s current momentum, could her assault not be called the same?
I suppose it could.
The results spoke for themselves. Ignoring the minor scratches she sustained as she lunged, she lashed her whip with her right hand and swung her sword with her left.
Crack! Crack!
Every time the whip sliced through the air, striking the heads, shoulders, or bellies of the gnoll pack—
Clang! Bam! Boom!
Deafening explosions erupted. Heads burst, spraying black blood and brain matter in every direction.
Meanwhile, the sword in her left hand impaled the skulls of the approaching hyena demonic beasts.
Squish, squish! Stab, thud! Squelch!
The sounds echoed in rapid succession. As she repeatedly thrust and withdrew her blade, three or four short-snouted hyenas collapsed, their black blood soaking the earth.
Whimper, gurgle.
Luagarne charged past the dying beasts as they foamed at the mouth. In that single dash, she slaughtered nine gnolls and fifteen hyena demonic beasts.
The remaining gnolls began to cluster into groups of five, six, or seven to face her.
"Gurgle!"
Luagarne puffed out her cheeks and lashed her whip with immense force.
Instead of a direct strike, the whip coiled around an enemy's neck. She bound them, yanked, and threw.
Whoosh!
Have you ever seen a flying gnoll? Encrid had. Just now.
The airborne gnoll crashed headfirst into the dirt. Meanwhile, the Frok's whip and sword acted as a continuous guillotine.
She killed and killed again.
The martial prowess of an angered Frok was truly a sight to behold. She was putting her monstrous strength and innate combat instincts on full display.
Gwoooooh!
A gnoll's scream-like howl erupted, echoing high into the air.
Meanwhile, Encrid trudged forward.
Luagarne had channeled her anger through provocation and unleashed it. It was a terrifying exhibition of power. However, as Encrid began to grasp something through the repetitions of the day...
Could I actually face her now?
The Frok were a warrior race, but they weren't all the same. Luagarne had said so herself repeatedly: she was a scholar. She wasn't someone who had devoted her entire existence to the path of combat.
If it were now...
I don't think I would lose.
The thought crossed his mind suddenly. Was it arrogance, or was it confidence born from his accumulated experience? Of course, one could never truly know the outcome of a fight until the blades crossed, but if he intended to kill...
I think I could do it.
That was the sensation settling in his gut.
"I can teach you orthodox swordsmanship, but knights or your band of madmen... well, they are quite tricky opponents."
Luagarne, the Talent Reader, had been objective. She had made her own skills and current standing perfectly clear.
"I tend to have more curiosity than competitive spirit."
What Frok didn't possess curiosity? As she had said those words, Luagarne's large, round, bulging eyes had sparkled as if light were seeping into them.
Later, when Encrid explained his strategy for dealing with the monster horde, the Frok had puffed out her cheeks with a gurgle and tilted her head. Accustomed to human life, Luagarne often expressed her thoughts through human-like gestures. Upon hearing his plan, her reaction had essentially been: What kind of crazy nonsense is this?
"I did it yesterday, too."
Answering with those words, Encrid felt his heart, his body, his hands, and his feet—his entire being—grow hot.
How should he describe it? It was like a primal desire to run wild. Or perhaps the urge to sprint through a sudden downpour. Or the impulse to roll around in a field of pristine, untouched snow. Whatever it was, the combination of those feelings culminated in a single, driving want.
To be precise, he wanted to swing his sword.
"So, just watch my back."
This request was directed at both Luagarne and Esther.
As things stood, the village was on the verge of falling anyway. If the enemies managed to bring their ladders to the walls, it was over.
So, what should he do?
Destroy what they rely on.
What did the gnolls and cultists rely on right now? Numbers and tools—ladders and sheer manpower. At the same time, he wanted to pour out the sensation boiling inside his body. That burning, restless something.
"It seems I'll have to make this a short but intense fight," Encrid muttered as he stepped forward.
He murmured it like a line of poetry, thinking of the Ferryman, and advanced. While Luagarne drew all the attention with her raw power, Encrid slipped right under the noses of the monsters.
At that moment, Luagarne took a breath and retreated. In her wake, she had slaughtered nearly thirty gnolls and hyena demonic beasts combined. The Frok returned with minor cuts on her arms, legs, and abdomen.
She was strong. But if asked whether she was so strong as to be unreachable...
He wasn't sure. It felt within reach.
Encrid stopped amidst the gnolls, hyenas, and ghouls.
Gwoooooh!
Kee-ah! Kah-ah!
The monsters snarled.
Skreeeech!
A ghoul was the first to welcome him, lunging with extreme enthusiasm.
Looking at them, Encrid thought: Is a knight's power truly in a realm beyond my reach? And even if it is, does that mean I can never reach it?
He didn't know. No one knew the future.
However... short, but intense. He felt he could show them something.
The enemy was a multitude, a massive horde. Among them, he saw the ladder-bearers. There were roughly thirty of them.
Good. Thirty.
Having assessed the situation, he drew his swords.
Shring.
One in his right hand.
Clink.
One in his left.
Although he was far more accustomed to wielding a single blade, this would be better for the task at hand. Facing a crowd, Encrid swung his steel.
*
What is he trying to do?
Luagarne did not ask. There were several reasons why.
First, she was a Frok; even in the heart of a monster horde, she was confident she could escape. If things went south, she could sacrifice an arm to get out. It would regenerate anyway, so it wasn't an issue. Therefore, when he suggested diving into the fray, she hadn't bothered to question it.
Another reason was... Encrid's transformation.
Why has he changed?
He had only been gone for half a day. Yet, Encrid's posture and aura had completely shifted.
How?
As a Frok, Luagarne was a Talent Reader. Her eyes and senses naturally evaluated a person's skill just by observing their stride, their gestures, and their posture.
How?
This man had changed so much that she had to ask herself the same question twice. While it was true that skill could sometimes improve in a sudden burst, this was different. He was distinctly different from anyone she had ever seen.
"I told you, I have an appointment at the salon."
Geniuses were always like that. Luagarne had often found it absurd when someone who did nothing but play around suddenly made a massive leap in skill. That was the nature of a genius.
But even then, were there no signs? No indications?
No, there always were. Luagarne could see them—the subtle shifts that appeared right before a leap in skill. Growth after such signs was only natural.
But there are none.
She couldn't see any of it. No signs, no indications. Without anything—absolutely nothing—he had suddenly changed.
Was this even possible? Furthermore, in Luagarne's eyes, Encrid didn't even belong in the category of geniuses.
So how?
Once again, the same question arose. She stood there now to confirm whether Encrid had truly changed, or if her own senses had gone haywire.
If things go wrong...
She would just grab him and run.
Beside her, Esther unsheathed her claws and tapped the ground. The panther seemed to share the same thought. With a mixture of worry, anticipation, and curiosity, Luagarne cast her gaze forward.
And then, her worries vanished.
Clink, shring.
Encrid moved. He wove into the midst of the gnolls and the ghouls. His objective was clear: the ladders.
He charged in a straight line toward the bearers.
Luagarne had aimed for them too, but unless one was a monster worthy of being called a true knight—or a Frok who made combat their primary profession—it was an impossible task. Those carrying the ladders were intentionally staying back. While she could slaughter the ones rushing forward, chasing down those who retreated was too much. There were simply too many of them.
Their opponents were gnolls. For a Frok, they were creatures she could beat to death in her sleep, but the sheer numbers were overwhelming. Luagarne was not a knight. She was a Frok, but even Froks had limits to their stamina. She could take down a cultist, but she couldn't face this entire horde alone. That was common sense.
On this continent, those who shattered common sense were called knights.
And right now...
Whoosh. Swish, thud, crack, slice, clang, stab, squelch.
Encrid's swords shattered the path—the path laid down by common sense.
Ah.
It was impossible to improve without signs. Even for a genius, it was an impossibility.
How?
Encrid's swords moved exactly as much as needed, precisely when needed. He thrust and slashed. He cut and impaled. He lightly split the crown of an approaching gnoll's head, and with a sideways sweep, his blade severed the spear shaft of another.
As the gnoll with the broken spear lunged to bite Encrid's shoulder, a flash of light swept upward. The flash split its head in half with a crack. A head split in two could hardly bite anything. The severed skull parted to the left and right, and the now two-headed gnoll collapsed.
The force imbued in his blades... Luagarne realized that this power was currently on par with her own. It was a strength he had occasionally shown during their sparring sessions, but back then, he only knew how to unleash it while losing his balance.
Now, through perfect balance, he exerted and withdrew exactly as much as necessary. He slashed vertically, thrust forward, and kept his feet moving constantly to occupy space.
Whenever a ladder came within range, he destroyed it. At that moment, five or six ghouls lunged at him like a single mass, acting as if they would cling to his legs even in death. It was the result of a cultist's brainwashing.
But even that was futile.
Before the mass of ghouls could reach him, Encrid stepped forward with his left foot and back with his right, swinging his sword as if he had been waiting for them.
Whoosh, swish, crash!
What did bones, muscles, or tendons matter? A Heavy Sword Style spinning slash sliced through the mass of ghouls entirely. Arms, legs, heads, and torsos scattered across the ground.
And in the midst of it all... he drove one of his swords deep into the ground with a thud.
Shrieeek!
With a strange whistling sound, Encrid let go of his sword, and throwing knives flew from his hand.
They were Whistle Daggers.
Ten daggers fanned out like the wind, piercing in all directions. Every single one struck the heads of the ladder-bearers. Just because gnolls knew how to use tools didn't mean they knew how to care for them. As the bearers fell, the others stepped on the ladders in their confusion, shattering the makeshift tools.
"Gwoooooh!"
Variant gnolls lunged—creatures a head taller than the rest. Three or four surrounded him from all sides while a hyena demonic beast thrust its head through the gap.
But the moment Encrid gripped the sword he had driven into the ground, his figure vanished. Luagarne's eyes didn't miss it, but even to her, an afterimage remained.
A charge skill?
It was a level of speed comparable to an associate knight. Vanishing just before being surrounded, he reappeared behind the variant gnoll on the right, crossing his swords to thrust.
Squelch!
The two blades crossed, piercing the variant's heart before being pulled back out.
Since it was the heart, Luagarne's cheeks puffed out in surprise. Still, she could ignore it. She was an experienced Frok, after all. However, even with all her experience, seeing a human like this for the first time... the unknown stirred her heart.
Encrid pulled back his swords. Black blood gushed out along the steel as they were smoothly withdrawn.
"Gwrk!"
The variant died.
Gwrk!
A hyena lunged. It was kicked away with a thud, its head shattering as it was struck by his pommel.
Kah-ah!
A ghoul threw itself forward recklessly, baring poison-coated claws.
Crack.
Struck on the head by a sword swung with sheer annoyance, the top of the ghoul's skull vanished. There was a common rumor that ghouls had no brains, but seeing it now, they weren't entirely brainless. It was just small—barely the size of a finger.
The time Encrid spent stepping forward and swinging his swords was not long at all. It wasn't half a day, nor was it even a matter of hours. Perhaps just long enough to drink a cup of tea. A span of time during which the sun's position wouldn't even shift.
In what would be considered a mere blink of an eye to long-lived dragonkin or elves... Encrid destroyed the majority of the ladders. He turned nearly a hundred demonic beasts and monsters into piles of rotting meat. The ghouls were practically wiped out.
Luagarne was a Frok; instead of getting goosebumps, her heart muscles ached. Admiration, deep emotion, and the joy of discovering an incomprehensible mystery—the happiness of having that unknown something right before her eyes. All of it blended together, bringing tears to her eyes.
It was a cruel sort of happiness.
"Ah..."
With a sigh of admiration, she began to sing a Frok battle song.
But before her song could truly begin, Encrid leaped backward and collapsed with a thud. His knees buckled, and he drove his sword into the ground to support himself. Even as he did so, his body trembled.
Then, he opened his mouth.
"Get me..."
Huh? Wait. She had just been deeply moved. She was supposed to sing more and shed more tears. Why was this guy, who had been fighting like an associate knight, suddenly like this?
"...out of here, quickly," Encrid said, his lips pale.
Luagarne reflexively lashed out her whip. With a whoosh, the whip wrapped around Encrid's wrist. As she pulled, Encrid was dragged along the ground with a scraping sound. Since the ground was littered with messy corpses, she flicked her wrist midway to launch him into the air.
She caught the flying Encrid in her arms with a thud, bending her knees to absorb the impact.
"Let's go," the black-haired man said from her arms.
Luagarne's emotional moment had been cut short, but the profound feeling she had just experienced did not fade. She nodded.
The remaining gnolls and demonic beasts lunged, but she had already resolved to retreat. Furthermore...
"Shoot! Shoot!"
As they retreated, arrows rained down from above to support them. The monsters lunged again, clawing at the log barricade and swinging their axes even as arrows pierced their heads.
A few managed to raise ladders, but...
"Are you just going to stand there and watch?!"
At Krais's shout, the vigilantes—the former mercenaries under Deutsch—sprang into action. They fought back, pushing the ladders away. With Luagarne and Esther returning to the line, the remaining ladders were utterly useless.
"Crazy. Absolutely crazy," Deutsch Fullman muttered, watching the monsters retreat from atop the barricade.
Luagarne agreed.
He really is crazy.
Encrid had briefly displayed prowess akin to an associate knight without any prior signs. At the transformation of a man she had deemed talentless just half a day ago... Luagarne's heart muscles throbbed as they had in her youth.
For a brief moment, she felt like a young girl again.