Chapter 531: Not All Knights Are Created Equal
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 531: Not All Knights Are Created Equal
"...To kill or not to kill, that is my dilemma."
The man hesitated for a moment, yet his tone remained as affected as before.
The knight of Azpen had curly, dark navy hair, a high-bridged nose, and deep-set eyes beneath a well-defined brow. Objectively speaking, he was quite handsome.
Not that he could compare to the likes of Encrid or Krais, of course.
Regardless of his looks, Rem decided to needle the pathetic bastard.
"What? Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of you fucking a ghoul."
The term "mating" was usually reserved for animals. Since ghouls lacked reproductive organs, the act was physically impossible. Even if they had them, no one in their right mind would ever touch one. Thus, the insult was several steps beyond merely insulting the man’s mother.
"What did you say?"
"Man, you’ve got some bizarre tastes."
"What are you talking about?"
"Hmm? Hard of hearing? Bad ears? Ghoul. Fuck. Er."
Rem kindly enunciated every syllable. The man, utterly dumbfounded, stood in silence as he processed the words.
What did that crazy barbarian just say?
It didn't take long for the words to travel from his ears to the realm of comprehension.
He was a man confident in his looks, priding himself on his melancholic gaze and his ability to recite poetry. It was all superficial vanity.
At Rem's words, a vein throbbed violently on the forehead of this knight of the Azpen Ducal Knights—a man who desperately wanted to be known as the "Poet Knight."
It was a thick, prominent vein, so swollen it was a miracle it didn't audibly pop. Since he wasn't wearing a helmet, the sight was even more grotesque.
"Do not let the words of a madman sway you," Red Eyes said from behind him.
"Ooh, look at him! He did it with a ghoul! He really did it!"
Rem was being intentionally childish. He stuck out his tongue and babbled whatever nonsense came to mind. The knight of Azpen knew it was a provocation. He knew he should ignore it. The problem was that the speaker possessed an immense presence while simultaneously appearing genuinely relaxed.
The bastard was surrounded by the assassins of the Swamp of Monter, yet he didn't show a shred of tension even with a knight standing right in front of him. He was even picking his nose.
His words, his attitude, his face—absolutely nothing about him was likable.
"Was it good?" Rem asked with a smirk.
The navy-haired knight decided right then and there that he would personally rip that bastard's mouth apart with his own hands.
"You have a foul mouth, barbarian."
Had anyone ever ignored him like this before? He wasn't sure about being ignored, but this was certainly the first time someone had mocked him to this extent.
That mockery has awakened the demon sleeping within me, the man thought.
As a newly minted knight of Azpen, he did not possess particularly deep mental discipline. And for good reason: since birth, he had never been overtaken or left behind by anyone. He was born with talent, piled effort on top of it, and lived in an environment that favored him.
The genius born of House Ekins, Corwin Ekins—that was his name.
He placed his hand on his sword. Ting. The blade slid from its sheath, reflecting the surrounding light. Corwin had named his sword "Fate." To put it more grandly, it meant "Predestined Fate."
"You, barbarian—a man devoid of rhythm or romance. I shall take your life."
A natural genius, Corwin had possessed Foresight since childhood. He could always see his opponent's attack path and predict their next move. That was why he carried Fate, the sword that decided his opponent's destiny.
Naturally, having won every life-or-death battle he had ever fought, he was absolutely confident in his blade and his skills.
Corwin spoke as if reciting poetry once more. Rem retorted while digging into his ear.
"Sure, you ghoul-shagging dumbass with the special kink. Give it a shot."
"...I told you not to engage him," Red Eyes chimed in from behind. In terms of banter, it was Rem's overwhelming victory.
As the vein on Corwin's forehead bulged and the tip of his sword pointed forward, unleashing a wave of Intimidation, Rem merely shrugged his shoulders to shake off the pressure. Meanwhile, Red Eyes, standing two steps behind Corwin, dug his toe into the dirt and kicked it forward.
With a loud thud, a clump of dirt flew toward Rem’s face.
Rem tucked his chin and raised both arms to block the debris.
Every action occurred in a single breath, passing in a flash. In that split second, an assassin from the Swamp of Monter fired a dart from a blowpipe. It was a perfectly coordinated move.
Amidst the sound of kicking dirt and the distraction of Intimidation, a nearly silent needle flew through the gap. Rem casually waved his raised left hand through the air. It was a flicking motion, up and down twice, so fast it was invisible to the average eye.
Whoosh!
The gesture whipped up a gust of wind, causing the incoming needle to lose its trajectory and fall harmlessly.
Simultaneously, a weighted net fell toward Rem's head with a sharp clatter, while a blade surged up from the ground toward his crotch. The assassin from the Swamp of Monter saw a clear opening.
Naturally, it was an intentional opening.
Rem, who had seemed frozen, smirked as he gripped the axe he had drawn at some point. In Corwin Ekins's eyes, all of these movements were imprinted onto his brain in slow motion.
Thud!
The axe moved.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
The axe moved relentlessly, fulfilling its brutal purpose. Lines were drawn in the air in tandem with the weapon's arc.
It looked like fruit being pulverized by a giant’s hand. It turned out that way because Rem had swung haphazardly, not even bothering to cut with the blade’s edge. The heads of the seven rushing assassins split, burst, and imploded. The net was sliced into six pieces in midair and blown away.
It all happened in the span of a single breath.
"...I pray, may your Intent dwell within me."
Seeing Rem's movements, Red Eyes began to chant a spell. It was Spirit Possession. He was housing another soul within his body.
As he channeled the Intent of another entity, Red Eyes trembled violently, his eyes rolling back as he drooled. When he opened them again, his aura had completely shifted.
It was a secret art that channeled the soul of a Majin—those considered nobles among monsters. In this manner, he had aspired to the rank of a knight in a far more sophisticated way than Count Molsen.
After sweeping through the group of assassins, Rem leaned his left hand against a tree.
"On the way here, that Big-Eyes guy who set this whole thing up was incredibly anxious. I kept wondering why. You know why? Because to my eyes, this looked like a ridiculously easy fight."
As he spoke, three more assassins rushed the same opening he had shown earlier. A shower of needles and darts rained down from above. Poison sand was scattered into the wind.
Rem kicked off the ground and shifted his position. The tree he had been leaning on was suddenly sliced through, tilting precariously. The assassins hiding near or on that tree scattered in all directions like ants caught in a rainstorm.
Rem casually scanned them, kicked a stone at his feet into the air, and smacked it with the flat of his axe.
Clang!
By keeping his swinging force steady and applying a sudden burst of power the moment the axe met the stone, the pebble flew faster than an arrow instead of shattering. The projectile shot through the air and blew an assassin's head apart.
Splat!
Blood and brain matter sprayed outward, splattering onto the ground. Rem casually continued speaking, resting his axe on his shoulder.
"And the captain, too—saying he won't tolerate any casualties among our allies? Well, then we just have to make sure that doesn't happen, right? I don't see why we need to talk about it. We just beat to death anyone who comes at us, and that's that. Am I right? You easy-ass bastards."
Faced with an honest provocation rather than a childish one, the two knights of Azpen briefly locked eyes and widened the distance between them. Their fighting styles were different, but Corwin Ekins's "Fate" could see the future. Because of this, Corwin knew how to coordinate with an ally, even if he personally detested doing so.
Rem watched the two of them take positions in front of and behind him. The body of the red-eyed man turned into a red mist before reverting to normal. Because he housed the Intent of a vampire—a blood-sucking Majin—he was able to use a portion of their sorcery.
Regardless, Rem muttered to himself.
"You're feeling good today?"
He wasn't talking to his enemies. He was responding to the emotions conveyed by his axe. His Descent Weapon had just conveyed its will, saying it was in a fine mood and wanted to play.
The surrounding assassins reformed their ranks and encircled him once more. Having fought Sachsen before, Rem didn't think much of the Swamp of Monter. And the same went for these two.
Half-baked bastards.
Just as Barnas Hurier had confidently declared, not all knights were created equal.
"Have you guys ever hung out with someone whose Will never runs dry?"
If a stimulated Pel had taken a step forward alongside his madness, spouting crazy talk about the air being different, Sachsen had also received a similar shock upon seeing Encrid.
And Rem was no different. Being a knight was not the end. Encrid spoke through his actions and his body, and that message had been deeply delivered to Rem as well.
"Because of that bastard, I pushed my body like crazy and trained again. You hear me?"
Rem spoke as he let his left hand hang loose. It was time to begin a real battle, one he had never shown to his allies. Rem swept his hand over his waist, and soon, his left fingertips caught a thick leather strap.
Attached to the end of the dangling leather strap was a palm-sized leather pouch—a sling. He had made the cord himself by braiding the tendons of a tiger demonic beast with owlbear leather. Krais had once smacked his own forehead upon seeing that Rem had dismantled a piece of drake scale armor to line the leather pouch.
"Do you have any idea how much that costs?"
"Do I need to know?"
"No. Just go on living in ignorance."
Krais had no intention of persuading Rem in the first place. He had only spoken up because the waste was so egregious he couldn't let it slide. Even if he were beaten to a pulp, Krais wouldn't have been able to hold those words back. It was similar to how Encrid couldn't sleep if he didn't train for even a single day.
To use with the sling he had crafted, Rem had wandered riverbanks to collect dozens of round pebbles and ground them down. He had even requested a blacksmith to forge similar-shaped iron weights for him.
The dropped sling was long enough to drag at Rem's feet. The cord was excessively long, but for Rem, it was just right.
An axe in his right hand, a sling in his left.
This was Rem's ultimate combat form. It was the same state he was in when he had killed the cannibal hero in the past.
"Man, it's been a long time since I used this. Consider it an honor, you ghoul-lover."
Rem mocked his opponent to the very end. Corwin no longer reacted. He cast aside his vanity. He, too, was a knight of Azpen who had proven his ability by surviving this long.
His instincts whispered to him that the gray-haired beast before him was more threatening than anyone he had ever faced. For a split second, the opponent seemed even larger than his master, Barnas Hurier.
"Nonsense."
He immediately denied the thought. If you build up your enemy in your mind, you lose before the fight even begins. A knight must sharpen the blade of his will.
I will win.
Corwin steeled his resolve. On the other side, Red Eyes assessed the situation more calmly. He immediately focused his will. He had become a knight through a sorcery that housed Intent within his body. It was not an ordinary method, but it was not a wrong one either.
Barnas Hurier had acknowledged it.
"Oh? Well, that's a fascinating technique. So what if others criticize it? What does that matter? As long as you hold your head high, that's all that counts. Besides, as we move forward, we'll all end up meeting anyway. It's just a difference in methods."
It was something acknowledged by the strongest knight born of Azpen.
For Lord Barnas.
Red Eyes steeled his mind for the person he believed in.
Rem, on the other hand, began to spin his sling.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Soon, a disc-like blur formed above his head.
Whirrrrrrrrr!
The sheer sound was powerful enough to overwhelm the surroundings. Without waiting, Rem extended his left arm. The projectile unleashed by his sling made it clear that the sound was no mere threat.
Boom!
If the stone struck by his axe had shattered an assassin's head, the blood and brain matter bursting from this head splattered onto the trunk of a large tree ten paces away, leaving a mark like a thrown ripe tomato.
Whoosh, whir, whirrrr.
After launching one, the sling immediately resumed its rotation.
"Alright, next."
The moment Rem threw one, he began spinning the sling for a second shot. Corwin instantly perceived the projectile, which surpassed his kinetic vision, and activated Fate.
It was the eye that glimpsed the future.
Judging that he would be struck if he stood still, Corwin's sword sliced through the air. Kicking off the ground, his body surged forward as his sword slashed vertically downward. The moment his blade was about to reach Rem's back, the axe appeared and parried the sword with a sharp clang.
In that gap, Red Eyes dropped down from above, attempting to plunge the ten crimson claws that had sprouted from his fingertips into Rem. Rem's axe parried Corwin's sword and struck all of the claws as well.
Screeech!
Sparks flew, and a sudden wave of heat surged.
Whoosh!
Rem swung his axe while simultaneously sweeping his sling at an angle, launching the second stone before it even reached high-speed rotation.
Ping, thud!
Just like that, another assassin died.
It was an irregular attack timing. The group of assassins might have frozen in their tracks, but—
"Attack, all of you! A far greater punishment awaits those who spare their own lives!"
At Red Eyes's shout, the assassins moved once more. Rem still did not feel threatened by any of this, even though he was facing two knights.
They're easier to deal with than that directionally challenged bastard or that wildcat.
Above all, it was better than sparring with Encrid. That was Rem's honest feeling.