Chapter 468: He Spoke, and Rem Followed
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 468: He Spoke, and Rem Followed
The leisurely journey, spent watching the clouds drift by as if on a casual stroll, had come to an abrupt end.
The giant’s appearance shifted the atmosphere instantly.
Encrid shifted his blade from side to side, gauging the giant’s reaction. His opponent remained impassive, blinking slowly like a cow in a feigned display of innocence.
“Whatcha doing? Playing with a toy sword?”
The giant tilted his head with a dim-witted look, his speech slow and slurred. But Encrid wasn’t about to be fooled by a simple tilt of the head.
Look at this bastard.
Even as the giant spoke, his hand was subtly drifting toward his waist—positioning himself perfectly to block an incoming strike.
Then, the giant began to lazily swing the club in his right hand through the air. The weapon whooshed, sending a sharp gust of wind slapping against Encrid’s face. Whether it was a deliberate technique to incite wind or not, the sheer pressure of the swings made his eyes sting.
Encrid narrowed his eyes to protect them, two thoughts crossing his mind simultaneously.
If I take a direct hit from that, a broken bone will be the least of my worries.
But... could this help me train my striking methods?
The moment the thought passed, he acted. He adjusted his grip, pointing the tip of his sword toward the giant’s abdomen, and shifted his stance.
“Want some help?” Dunchabel asked.
It didn’t seem like she actually wanted to assist; rather, she looked like she wanted to vent some frustration after getting thrashed by Rem for the past few days.
“No, I’m good,” Encrid declined.
The giant’s presence was unusual, even unique. In other words, he was an opponent Encrid didn’t want to pass up. As Encrid’s strength grew, a certain desire had begun to swell within him. After all, there was a distinct pleasure to be found in combat itself.
Of course, if he lost himself to that pleasure, he would end up as nothing more than a killing machine. But that would never happen to Encrid. He had a dream to guide him.
Still, did he really need to deprive himself of such simple pleasures? Of course not. And that was why he had no intention of yielding his opponent to anyone else.
The spark of exhilaration he had felt while fighting the ghouls flared up again, bringing a sensation akin to pure joy.
Was his opponent dangerous? Skill aside, anyone hit by a club of that size—Associate Knight or not—would have their bones instantly pulverized.
If I can’t deflect it, I might actually die.
But danger was an inherent part of a life-or-death duel, and that was precisely what made it so thrilling.
Nearby, Luagarne lightly flicked her whip. The giant’s gaze didn’t waver, but Encrid knew the beast was already tracking everything. It was a warning from his intuition. The giant was playing dumb, but he was far from stupid. His slow-witted act was merely a tactic.
“What are you looking at?” Encrid asked, locking eyes with the giant.
Their gazes clashed. Encrid’s blue eyes were honest and direct, shining like starlight-reflecting jewels. The giant’s eyes, on the other hand, were like dull sand or a dry pile of dirt—a murky, dark brown. Though he kept up his innocent act, he couldn’t entirely conceal the sharp intelligence lurking behind them. They were the eyes of a deeply cunning creature.
The giant’s eyes darted back and forth. Encrid tried to read his thoughts, but to no avail. He couldn’t tell what the giant was thinking; it was only natural, as Encrid possessed no supernatural ability to read minds.
But one thing was certain.
He won’t just back down.
Right on cue, the giant stopped swinging his club.
“Aren’t you scared?” The giant’s voice was suddenly several times softer, almost gentle. It carried a distinct tone of persuasion, as if he were trying to win Encrid over. He was a remarkably clever giant, shifting his tone so easily to catch his opponent off guard.
“Leave just one of them behind, and I’ll let the rest of you live.”
The giant lied through his teeth without a single shred of sincerity. Throughout the giant’s speech, Encrid kept his eyes locked onto the beast’s. Looking at him, Encrid felt a sudden pang of apology toward Krais.
They’re similar, yet different.
What was the biggest difference? The presence of deceit.
This giant bastard’s eyes looked as though they took sadistic pleasure in mocking and deceiving others with endless lies. A cheap, wretched stench of malice wafted off him. It smelled almost fishy—the pungent, metallic odor that clung to giants who consumed human flesh.
“Is that so?” Encrid asked, his eyes widening back to normal.
“I swear it on my name, Bannatur.” The giant spoke without moving a single muscle, frozen in place.
“I see,” Encrid replied in kind, his stance perfectly steady.
The two of them were completely disconnected in word and action. Even as they spoke of peace, neither lowered their guard for a second. Bannatur realized his opponent hadn’t bought the lie.
“Are you mocking me?!” The giant suddenly roared in anger and lunged forward, feigning a charge.
Watching him, Encrid was reminded of the Valen-style mercenary sword. The giant’s tactics were exactly the same. Though the specific methods of mockery and deception differed, they aimed for the exact same tactical outcome.
Even now, it was no different. He feigned a charge, kicking off the ground with an explosive burst, only to halt abruptly halfway and calmly bring his club down.
BOOM!
A deafening roar tore through the air. Even though it was a cautious, half-hearted swing meant more to test his opponent than to kill, the sheer monstrous strength behind it still ripped the air apart. A giant was not called a giant for nothing.
Yet, the beast remained composed. And so did Encrid.
No matter what nonsense the giant spouted about eating them or letting them live, Encrid remained utterly unperturbed. This was the power of the Beast’s Heart. The absolute composure forged by that heart kept him grounded, ensuring his focus never wavered.
Aker, which had been pointing forward, swept upward at an angle. The moment club and steel met, Aker’s blade slid against the wood at a precise slant. Like a plane shaving wood, Aker’s edge scraped along the length of the club. The thorns lining the dark brown club splintered and sheared off in a rapid clack-clack-clack.
Seizing the moment, the giant shifted his weight to his right foot and launched a kick with his left. The sheer wind pressure of the kick sent the sheared-off thorns flying forward like a volley of deadly projectiles.
Encrid smoothly pivoted sideways, letting the thorns whistle past. As he dodged, he swapped Aker to his left hand and slashed down at the giant’s shin.
Thud!
The blade struck the thick guard wrapping the giant’s shin. There was no sensation of slicing through flesh, but he clearly felt himself cleaving through something incredibly solid.
“Argh!” the giant shrieked.
Yet, even as the giant screamed, Encrid kept his eyes locked on the beast’s face. His expression hadn’t changed. He was perfectly calm.
Screaming, the giant thrust his hand forward. He was attacking under the guise of being in pain. With his fingers splayed wide, he clearly believed that if he could just grab Encrid, he could crush him instantly. And he was right—a giant’s monstrous strength was a lethal weapon in its own right. These were creatures capable of crushing boulders with their bare hands.
He had hidden armor inside the cloth wrapping his shin. It looked like a simple fur guard from the outside, but it was anything but. Another trick. The scream hadn’t been out of pain, either; it was entirely fabricated. Yet another deception.
He was reaching out with his bare hand instead of his club-wielding one, his intent to grab and crush radiating off him.
Just let me grab you. I’m acting wild and desperate to catch you, and once I do, I’ll crush you to pieces!
The intent was obvious, but even this was a feint. Encrid perceived every micro-movement with absolute clarity and reacted instantly.
The giant took the blow to his shin, shrieked, and lunged with his hand. But hidden within those movements, the thornless club was already whistling down toward Encrid’s head. There was no deafening roar this time. It was compact and blindingly fast. While his first swing had been wide to maximize air resistance and create a distracting wind, this strike was angled sharply to slip past defenses.
Hoo.
Encrid let out a short breath and held it.
Single-Point Focus.
Time ground to a halt. His heightened senses mapped out his surroundings, feeding him every detail of the battlefield. Fueled by the Will surging through his veins, Encrid moved.
He thrust his right hand forward like a blade while raising Aker in his left. Simultaneously, he lunged forward and stomped down hard on the giant’s foot.
Thud! Crunch! Crack!
His palm strike shattered the giant’s wrist, while his foot crushed the bones of the giant’s instep. Meanwhile, Aker pierced straight through the center of the descending club, splitting it in two. Splinters rained down on his head as the club burst apart.
“Aaaaargh!”
Only then did the giant let out a genuine scream of agony. This, at least, was real.
Encrid pulled back Aker and retreated a step. Refusing to yield, the giant dropped his ruined club and swung a massive fist.
Whoosh!
A punch that would have been fatal had it connected merely tore through empty air.
“Damn it!” the giant snarled in frustration.
This, too, was real. Encrid stared at the tears welling in the corners of the giant’s eyes. Those were real, too.
He felt satisfied.
*
While Encrid was toying with his giant, Rem had already slaughtered the other two.
It hadn’t even been much of a fight. They had briefly clashed at mid-range before Rem slipped inside their guard. Having lost their range, the two giants flailed wildly, but Rem brushed their limbs aside and used his axe to carve gaping new mouths into their bellies.
One collapsed, dragging his spilled entrails along the ground, while the other struggled to stand with a hand axe buried deep in his skull before finally toppling over. Dark purple blood drenched the earth. Seeing how the latter had kept fighting even with an axe in his brain, it was clear giants possessed terrifying vitality.
But no creature could survive with its guts spilled and its skull split in half. The three giants had simply been unlucky. Of all the people to run into, they had crossed paths with these monsters.
“What are you?” Rem asked, walking over after finishing his grim work. Since the only survivor was the giant Encrid had crippled, the question was naturally directed at him.
The giant blinked, processing Rem’s words.
“Why are your kind here? This isn’t your territory,” Rem pressed.
Bannatur blinked again. “Ugh... it hurts. Why are you asking me that?”
Playing dumb again.
Encrid wasn’t the only one who saw through it. Rem didn’t bother arguing. He drew a dagger and pressed the tip just beneath the giant’s eye. Luagarne used her whip as a rope to bind the giant’s arms.
Even with his arms bound, getting as close as Rem did was still highly dangerous. But then again, this was Rem. He wasn’t the type to fall for cheap tricks. In fact, even while kneeling before the slightly taller giant, Rem kept his foot planted firmly on the beast’s thigh while aiming at his eye. If the giant tried anything, Rem’s foot would instantly shatter his femur.
“I’m going to start with your eyes, but is there another spot you’d prefer? I usually slice off the balls in the middle first, but we’ll get to that eventually anyway. Oh, and I can keep you alive for at least two days.”
Sachsen was probably a master of torture; he had certainly given off that impression multiple times. But Rem? He would do it if necessary. Even if he wasn’t a specialist, his vast experience in carving up human bodies had given him a thorough understanding of anatomy. A giant didn’t have four hearts like some exotic monster. At the end of the day, they were still humanoids.
“Wait! If I talk, will you let me live?”
Encrid found the situation bizarre. He hadn’t encountered many giants, but they weren’t called Red-Blooded Demonic Beasts for nothing. They were a race born for war, possessing a mad, combative instinct that refused to back down even in the face of certain death.
That was what a giant was—or so he had believed. The giants he had seen on the battlefields during his mercenary days had been like unstoppable juggernauts. He could still vividly recall one charging through a hail of crossbow bolts, drenched in blood, straight toward an armed platoon.
“Bwahaha! See? All you have to do is push through!” The crazed giant had mocked everyone else while executing a suicidal tactic only a giant could survive.
Of course, just as not all humans or Froks were identical, not all giants were the same. But this was a bit much, wasn’t it? Tucking tail just because he lost a hand and a foot? A giant? Even with his wrists bound by a whip, he could still put up a fight if he wanted to. Yet here he was, completely submissive.
Rem pressed the dagger deeper beneath the giant’s eye. With a wet squelch, dark purple blood welled up. Keeping the blade there, Rem spoke.
“I’ll give you a quick death.”
He didn’t lie. It was classic Rem.
“Cruel humans...” the giant muttered.
Was he somewhat intelligent but lacking in linguistic skills? His speech was still heavily slurred. His deep, booming voice echoed as if from the depths of a cavern, making it difficult to understand if he mumbled even slightly. That was certainly the case now.
“Damn it... they broke their promise. ‘A land of milk and honey,’ my ass. Bullshit.”
That was what it sounded like, at least. Encrid had to piece it together from context clues; he could barely make out half of it.
“All is according to the will of God.”
Suddenly, the giant lunged forward, trying to impale his own eye on Rem’s dagger. Of course, Rem wasn’t about to let him commit suicide. He pulled the dagger back and slammed his hilt-wrapped fist into the giant’s cheekbone.
Crack.
The giant’s head snapped back from the impact. Luagarne tightened her grip on the whip, veins bulging along her smooth, Frok forearm.
“It hurts!” the giant cried out.
“Did you think I hit you to make you feel good?” Rem muttered. He flipped the dagger in his hand, reversing his grip, and plunged the blade straight into the giant’s eye.
It was a swift, merciless strike without a shred of hesitation.
Squish.
“Aaaargh!”
Another shriek. And this one, too, was entirely real. That finally broke the giant’s spirit.
“This land is ours now. We were told to take it.”
“By whom?”
“The Great Prophet.”
Even with the answer, it raised more questions than it solved. Rem asked a few more questions, and once he decided there was nothing left to glean—
Slash.
Rem slit the giant’s throat. A fountain of dark, violet-tinted blood sprayed into the air.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I guess we’ll have to keep going to find out,” Rem said. “You’d best not follow us.”
Rem spoke again, and Encrid recalled the time Rem had told him to blindly venture into the Demon Realm.
He had spoken, and Rem had followed.