Chapter 287: Eww, Spit It Out, That's Not Food
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 287: Eww, Spit It Out, That's Not Food
Just as Encrid moved to the front of the unit, a sharp-eyed scout spoke up.
"Someone’s coming out."
True to his words, a lone figure was trudging out from the Viscount's army. Hazy sunlight, filtered through the clouds, spilled over the approaching warrior’s head.
His size?
He was massive—nearly as large as Audin.
Encrid stared intently at the man, whose sheer scale seemed to warp the perspective even from a distance. The opponent was approaching on foot, without a horse. His pace was neither slow nor fast, but it oozed an absolute, suffocating confidence.
Then again, stepping out alone into the middle of a battlefield was the very definition of confidence.
"Should we shoot?" one of the archers asked.
"No," Encrid replied.
Despite his answer, some of the archers nervously gripped their bowstrings before forcing themselves to let go. A volley of arrows usually signaled the start of a battle; that was the basic rule of war.
Bark! Bark! Grrr!
Several wolves howled behind the man. Despite the racket, the giant simply scratched his ear and shouted:
"My name is Lycanos! Send out your strongest fighter!"
As he spoke, he stomped his foot, sending a heavy thud vibrating through the earth.
How is he that strong?
The soldiers' morale chilled. Rem had already been defeated, and the opponent stepping forward now looked like a monster. Even compared to the legendary Encrid, he didn't seem lacking.
It was one of the finest tactics to crush an enemy's spirit before a battle: a duel. If you hold a winning hand, you play it.
Naturally, the Black Sword also had its cards ready.
Ragna took a step forward. Audin reacted as well. Encrid drew his sword and swept it down in front of them. It wasn't a fast movement, but it was light.
Whoosh.
The blade, imbued with a blue light, traced an arc through the air and blocked their path.
"He's mine. You two handle the rest."
Encrid's gaze remained fixed on Lycanos. Yet, even as he spoke, he was already calculating how to navigate the field. How many clashes would follow? What could be gained today? Since Krais had set the stage, it was Encrid's job to reap the rewards.
Since when did I become this confident?
A surge of certainty welled up in his chest, urging him into the fray. Encrid didn't mind the feeling. The place he had always wanted to be, the position he had always desired—it was waiting for him.
"Sachsen."
"Yes."
"Find an opening and bring me the pig's head."
Whether it happened today or in the next battle didn't matter. It could take time, but what needed to be cleared away had to be cleared.
"Will do," Sachsen nodded nonchalantly. It was reassuring. He wouldn't fail.
"Audin, Teresa. There seems to be something massive among those wolves."
When they had infiltrated enemy territory, there had been three large beasts, but it seemed only one remained. Or was it even bigger than the others? It didn't matter; it was just a giant demonic beast. However, his instincts told him that the ordinary soldiers must not be allowed to clash with it.
"It shall be done as you wish, brother. Let us pray."
Audin clasped his hands together and quietly stepped back, while Teresa knelt on one knee beside him.
"As you command."
Then, Dunchabel tugged at her collar. Beside her, Ragna was visible too. His expression was cold, but his eyes spoke clearly: I will fight. I am motivated. I can cut that down with my sword right now.
Seeing Ragna motivated was more pleasant than Encrid had expected. Though Encrid had never felt frustrated watching him laze around, it was never pleasant to watch someone let their talent go to waste. Of course, since Encrid possessed a resilient heart that could easily brush such things aside, it hadn't truly bothered him.
The motivation of a genius.
It was enjoyable to see. Just because the opposite didn't cause him pain didn't mean this wasn't satisfying. Furthermore, seeing himself standing alongside Ragna like this felt right.
"Go wild. Cut down everything in sight. But only after that wolf is pinned down."
If the enemy had prepared a giant wolf, his side had a beastman more terrifying than any predator and a sword that could cut through anything. If they were unleashed upon the ordinary soldiers, they could tilt the entire battle in an instant. Even without a grand speech to boost morale, the mere presence of these two stepping forward would shift the course of the war.
They would demonstrate why a battlefield dominated by a select elite was an absolute truth.
That was enough. Dunchabel nodded, snorting as she replied.
"I shall make it a display worthy of Kriemhild."
Kriemhild was the deity worshipped by the beastmen—the goddess of war and fertility. To show oneself to the deity meant to wage a fight without shame. This was thanks to Rem; the barbarian's relentless torment had evolved a mere beastman into a crazed beast.
"I will yield this one to you," Ragna said calmly.
Hearing Ragna's words, Encrid began to walk forward.
"Took you long enough. I thought there wasn't a single man with balls over there. Are we waiting for sunrise?" Lycanos shouted, patting his crotch.
It was a provocation, a rallying cry to boost his allies' morale. He wasn't expecting an answer.
"Yeah! No-balls!"
"Eunuch!"
"Dumbass!"
The enemy soldiers hurled insults. In response, Encrid's allies roared back.
"Bullshit!"
"He's got 'em!"
"And they're massive!"
"You bandit scum!"
As Encrid trudged forward amidst the sea of insults and cheers, Graham asked from behind: "You can win, right?"
"Yes. Even if I die, we will win."
Is he prepared to die? Graham crossed his arms, hiding his anxiety.
Encrid was simply being honest. He meant it literally. If what lay ahead was a wall, if it was death itself—he would transcend it. And thus, he would win.
Strangely, Encrid stood before the man without a shred of excitement. His physical condition was neither particularly good nor bad.
"I've got 'em. And they're definitely bigger than yours."
At the words spoken upon their meeting, Lycanos's lips twitched. Listen to this cocky bastard.
"Bigger than mine?"
"I've yet to meet anyone bigger than me."
"...You're an arrogant little shit, aren't you? I'm going to strip you bare. You're that bastard, right? The one named Encrid or whatever."
The opponent already knew his name. Of course, Encrid knew him too. He had heard the man was one of the key figures of the Black Sword Bandits. His build was as massive as Audin's, and the heavy weapon slung across his back made his fighting style easy to predict.
Soon, Lycanos subtly slid his left foot forward, stepping inside the distance Encrid had established.
Encrid reacted instantly. He drew the sword at his left hip and slashed. Despite his massive size, Lycanos retreated with surprising agility the moment he entered the range—two steps further back than he had advanced.
Whoosh.
The blade sliced through empty air. Following the upward diagonal trajectory of Encrid's sword, Lycanos swung his own weapon.
Whoosh!
A dark shadow curved and flew from behind the man's head. Watching the weapon descend vertically, Encrid shifted his weight.
Shhhk!
He glided across the ground, circling toward the enemy's flank. The mace slammed into the spot Encrid had just vacated.
Boom!
Dirt and stones erupted in all directions. Some pelted Encrid's body, but ignoring the debris, he drew the dwarf's Gladius and thrust it straight forward the moment he secured the flank. The thrust he had perfected through repeating his very first "today" pierced toward Lycanos's side.
It was a lightning-fast strike.
Lycanos raised his arm and clamped the blade against his flank. The blade was caught between the man's arm and his torso. It was an astonishing display of reflexes. He tried to twist his body to snap the sword, but it didn't go as planned.
"It's too damn sturdy!"
Roaring in frustration, the man swung his mace once more.
Whoosh!
The sheer wind pressure of the horizontal swing slammed against Encrid's face before the weapon itself arrived. Without even looking, Encrid judged the mace's trajectory solely by sound.
He ducked.
The blunt weapon, capable of crushing human flesh with a mere graze, swept over his head. Encrid activated the Heart of Monstrous Strength and twisted the Gladius.
Hup.
With a sharp intake of breath, the muscles in his left arm swelled as if about to burst.
Screeech!
The twisting blade threatened to grind through the flesh of Lycanos's flank and forearm. Unable to endure it, Lycanos released his grip on the blade.
"You bastard."
Blood poured from the inside of his forearm. Though only a scratch remained on his flank armor, the inner side of his arm had been shredded.
"Does it hurt?"
Encrid feigned catching his breath before driving the sword in his right hand straight down. At the same time, he retrieved the Gladius and sheathed it.
Lycanos pulled back. He wasn't just some brute blindly swinging a mace; his movements were concise and clean. He had clearly trained for years.
The blade sliced through the air. Through the empty space left by the swing, Lycanos's gaze locked onto Encrid. His dull, dark brown eyes somehow brought Sachsen to mind. In other words, he looked sly.
Thud.
The man kicked off the ground and lunged again. The frozen earth cracked, sending chunks of dirt flying like pebbles. Encrid placed his left hand on the hilt of the Gladius. Feigning a draw, he shifted his feet once more. This time, he pushed off with his toes and leaped backward to evade the hail of debris.
He's dodging?
Lycanos tried to chain his movements despite his confusion. He raised his mace, preparing to swing it diagonally. At the same time, he crossed his feet, springing forward.
Just before his opponent's movement could be completed, Encrid released the sword in his right hand mid-air and swept his hand downward. To an onlooker, it might have seemed like he was dropping his sword to flail at empty air.
But with a Whistle Dagger gripped in his hand, it was a completely different story.
Whistle!
The dagger flew at point-blank range, aiming straight for Lycanos's face. Anticipating that the opponent would dodge or block, Encrid had swung his blade while already holding the dagger in his right hand. That foresight was paying off now. He had learned how to hide a dagger up his sleeve by watching Torres of the border guard. Every bit of that technique was being put to use.
Lycanos's head snapped back. But it quickly returned forward. Unfortunately, it wasn't the outcome Encrid had hoped for.
"You bashtard..."
The blade was clamped firmly between Lycanos's front teeth. Though his upper teeth had cracked with a sharp pop, he had blocked it.
"Eww, spit it out. That's not food," Encrid said. His provocations were always spot-on.
Spitting out the dagger, Lycanos's eyes flared with fury.
"I am going to fucking kill you. Before I do, I'll crush that thing of yours. Bigger? I'll mince it so fine you won't even be able to see it."
Though the man refused to back down verbally, Encrid claimed the psychological victory by refusing to offer even a smirk.
Whoosh.
The mace came again. This time, Encrid held his sword with both hands to deflect it. It was the Snake Sword. He intended to deflect and strike, but...
He's absurdly strong.
Even with the Heart of Monstrous Strength active, the opponent's raw power was superior.
Will?
The suspicion arose naturally. If there was a 'Will' of Rejection, there was bound to be a 'Will' that granted monstrous strength.
Unable to deflect it cleanly, the mace and the blade locked together. Lycanos channeled his strength to press the mace down. Placing his other hand on the opposite end of the weapon, he took a sharp breath, intending to crush Encrid with sheer force.
Encrid slid his left foot back. With a dull pop, his knee bent halfway. He was being overpowered.
Pressing down from above, Lycanos sneered. "What's wrong? Thought you wouldn't get pushed around? Hey, you piece of shit, did you think you were the only strong one around here?"
No, there are plenty of people stronger than me. Always.
Let alone Audin—he still wasn't confident he could beat Rem, Ragna, or Teresa in a pure contest of strength.
"Your front tooth is broken."
Thanks to the strain, the front tooth that had blocked the dagger earlier was visibly cracked.
"I don't think the ladies will like that."
Encrid's remark was more than enough to push Lycanos over the edge.
"Aaaaagh!"
The beast roared. Encrid gathered his strength, bracing against the sound.
Is he easily provoked?
The question flashed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. He had neither the time nor the luxury for such thoughts. The opponent was strong. Incredibly so. He was on a completely different level from those half-baked mercenaries who called themselves associate knights.
Maintaining their locked weapons, Lycanos released his left hand, balled it into a fist, and swung.
Thud!
Encrid tensed his trapezius muscles and turned his head, deflecting the blow. It was Valaf-style martial arts—deflecting with the body. But he didn't just take the hit. As he absorbed the impact, he twisted and kicked the opponent's shin.
Crack!
A heavy thud echoed off the shin guard.
"That hurts, you bastard," Lycanos growled, letting go of his weapon entirely. He reached out with his right hand to grab Encrid by the collar.
Encrid used his left hand. He drew his second sword, the Gladius, intending to slice off the man's fingers. As if anticipating this, Lycanos pulled his hand back. A flurry of hand-to-hand exchanges followed. Encrid continued the close-quarters struggle, mixing in sword strikes, but neither could land a decisive blow.
They traded lethal strikes, yet none could claim a life. Encrid's head was split open on one side, blood trickling down, while Lycanos, whose helmet had been knocked off, bled from a split lip and a slashed cheek. Encrid took a blow to the stomach, leaving him slightly winded.
Seizing a brief opening, Encrid executed an acrobatic maneuver, kicking Lycanos's chin with his toe while spinning mid-air. The strike left Lycanos's head spinning for a moment. By the time the two finally separated, neither of their bodies was in perfect condition.
"It's been a while since I've fought someone like you."
"I see them all the time."
"But you're the first one who refuses to lose even a single word."
"Ah, I'm used to that."
Used to winning, that is.
Lycanos ground his teeth. With his broken tooth, his face looked somewhat pathetic, but his murderous intent remained undiminished.
"Obnoxious bastard."
Right after those words, Lycanos swung his mace in the exact same manner, but Encrid felt something strange. Something was different. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, and he didn't have the luxury of time to widen the distance.
He had to block. He raised his sword, meeting the attack softly. Against the Snake Sword, the mace didn't lock as before but slid off to the side.
Screeech!
In the split second of deflecting the thick iron club—a moment fractured into infinite fragments—Lycanos's body moved twice as fast as before. Encrid's concentration flared like never before.
The mace?
It was a shell. Within the slowed flow of time, Lycanos drew his true weapon: a skewer-like rapier, concealed within the mace as its sheath.
He thrust the hidden blade. It was faster than any sword Encrid had ever seen. The moment he blocked the mace, it felt as if an arrow of light was flying toward him. It reached his body before his eyes could even register it.
Just before the blade could skewer his torso, his Sense of Evasion triggered in a state of hyper-focus so intense his brain felt as if it were burning. Encrid twisted his body, following his instincts. The blade merely grazed his flank and dug into his upper right arm instead.
Every moment flowed like a dream. The metallic ring of the sword being drawn, the sound of the blade piercing flesh, the resulting pain—there was nothing. Encrid had simply moved reflexively, driven by his daily struggle to survive in these fractured, fleeting moments.
His next movement was the same. Twisting his body and pulling back his right arm, he swung the sword in his left hand upward. The Gladius became a terrifyingly swift slash, striking at the opponent's face.
Encrid's blade sliced cleanly from the man's chin to just above his left eye.
Thud, rip!
Two distinct sounds of tearing flesh echoed as both men recoiled. No, it was closer to being blown backward.
"Fire!" someone shouted.
Immediately, regardless of the two men's presence, both armies unleashed their arrows. The end of the duel, the beginning of the all-out war.
Encrid stumbled and fell to one knee. From behind, someone caught his falling body.
"We are pulling back."
It was Sachsen. Encrid nodded.