Chapter 587: Do Well
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 587: Do Well
Viscount Harrison raised a hand and rubbed his eyes, wondering what kind of madness he was witnessing.
Rumble!
A sound like crashing thunder struck his ears, and the ground heaved as if an earthquake had hit. The source of the tremor—a vibration akin to a thousand charging cavalrymen—loomed directly before him.
Beyond the lands he had painstakingly cultivated, an unprecedentedly large horde of boar demonic beasts was kicking up a massive wall of dust. For so many beasts to gather in one place, they must have formed a massive colony. Though it wasn't a spell, the veil of dust they kicked up acted like concealment magic, making it impossible to gauge their exact numbers.
The only saving grace was that they were charging across an open field, giving the defenders a few precious moments to prepare.
Yet, the reinforcements who had just arrived were marching on foot directly toward the dust cloud teeming with monsters. They had ordered everyone else to stand down, claiming they would handle the fight themselves.
In other words, without even knowing how many beasts they faced, they were marching out to greet a storm of tusks and muscle that rushed at them like an evil spirit.
If this wasn't madness, what was?
Even after rubbing his eyes, reality remained unchanged. The Viscount watched their retreating backs as they vaulted over the slanted thorn barricades—erected specifically to stop the boars—or simply walked around them to advance.
At a glance, they seemed to lack order, but their lack of formal military drill did not mean they were disorganized. They took up positions at precise, regular intervals.
Well, not that it mattered right now. The Viscount couldn't even register such details.
"What in the..." That was all he could manage to say.
The ground continued to thrum. The hand that had been rubbing his eyes clenched into a fist so tight that veins bulged. It was a sight that naturally made one's entire body lock up in tension.
"You madmen!" the Viscount finally shouted his thoughts aloud.
What made boar demonic beasts so terrifying? They charged with such monstrous speed that, unless one belonged to an elite order of knights, facing them head-on was suicide. Yet, these men were stepping out into the open without even utilizing the barricades.
"What on earth are they doing?" The vigilante captain, a former mercenary, stared with his mouth agape.
He knew his lord, Viscount Harrison, had sent requests for help everywhere. He also knew those letters had reached the royal palace. But he hadn't actually expected reinforcements to arrive. When they did, though they were few, he had hoped they would at least be of some help.
So why were they acting like this? Why were they marching out with nothing but single axes at their waists instead of spears?
The leather armor and cloaks they wore did look like uniform equipment. Among mercenaries, there was a saying: Equipment is a measure of skill. To elaborate, if you encountered a force with such perfectly matched gear, your first instinct should be to retreat. If they could afford to standardize their equipment to that extent, it was highly likely they had undergone rigorous, professional training.
This was wisdom he had gained while wandering various battlefields after being sold to Krona. Therefore, this unit couldn't be weak.
Even so, standing directly in the path of a charging horde of boar demonic beasts was... well, it felt like a novel form of insanity.
In truth, if either the Viscount or the vigilante captain had a moment to breathe, it wouldn't have been hard to guess why these men were stepping forward. However, neither of them was particularly quick-witted, and they didn't have the luxury of time to think.
The moment the reinforcements arrived, the boars had charged. Before they could even be offered a meal or a proper welcome, the newcomers had marched out to battle without permission. Along the way, a vigilante soldier guarding the barricade had asked who they were, but they had simply ignored him and kept marching.
Those who crossed the barricades formed a line, the horde of beasts charged, and everything happened so fast that the defenders could only watch in dumbfounded silence. The number of beasts was more than double that of the men who had stepped forward.
The Viscount's eye twitched. He was under immense pressure, and his fatigue had reached its peak after days of sleeplessness. If he had to watch these reinforcements get their bellies ripped open and their guts spilled onto the dirt, he felt he might faint right then and there.
"Do well!" someone shouted from among the reinforcements.
Was there a commander? Since the soldier who had come to deliver the news had just strolled in casually, the Viscount had wondered what kind of person their leader was.
The Viscount caught a glimpse of gray hair. It was a man standing with his arms crossed, watching the scene without even wearing a helmet. He looked somewhat familiar, but the Viscount couldn't place him in the heat of the moment.
As inevitably as the sun rises and the rain falls, the boars and the reinforcements collided.
I should have stopped them. Only now did that thought finally cross the Viscount's mind.
Just as everyone braced themselves for a horrific massacre—
Thud! Crack! Crunch!
Across the wide field, the sickening sound of tearing flesh mingled with the thumping of hooves. Blood splattered. Black blood. Pitch-black blood did more than just paint the air; it drenched the ground in every direction.
"If you're going to die, you'll die by my hand!" the commander's shout rang out once more amidst the chaos.
The charging boar demonic beasts lunged with their sharp tusks. If they managed to bite, it wouldn't end with mere teeth marks. But the Border Guard Standing Army, who had stepped forward as reinforcements, all drew their axes and swung.
Thack!
With every swing, the heads of the boar demonic beasts were split open and shattered. From the moment of the charge to the clash, everything had unfolded in the blink of an eye.
What was this?
The tic beneath Viscount Harrison's eyes finally stilled.
"What... is this?" the Viscount asked in sheer disbelief. It was a question directed at the vigilante captain, but also a mutter to himself. The captain had no answer. The only thought in his head was that those bastards fought like demons.
There were fewer than fifty of them, yet they were holding the line.
*
When Rem had casually named the unit he formed the "Assault Unit," everyone around them had taken to calling them the "Remsault Unit." Perhaps they should have been glad they weren't called the "Mad Axe Unit," but in truth, they didn't have the luxury to care what they were called.
Every single one of them had been trained by Rem, and recently, they had even learned the basics of sorcery from the twins.
"I wish there was a spell to bring people back from the dead. That way, I could just kill you all over and over again," Rem practically lived with those words on his lips.
Needless to say, the intensity of their training was absolutely insane. Yet, he didn't just pick anyone. As always, he only took those who caught his eye. Naturally, some had given up along the way. In the end, they were whittled down to about fifty men who became the core assets of the Assault Unit.
Among them, three had shown a glimmer of talent. One of them had no talent for anything other than brawling, so Rem left him be, appointing only the other two as his deputies. With these two deputies at the center, the members of the Assault Unit swung their axes.
In fact, the two deputies served as the core of their formation. Rem himself preferred to fight with raw strength without bothering with formations, but if he let them do that, more than a few of them would end up dead. Though he wasn't an expert in tactics, he had incorporated what he had seen, heard, and learned over time, along with a few pieces of advice he had wrung out of Krais while twisting his leg. Rem silently thought that they were finally becoming somewhat useful.
"This is way better than those monkey demonic beasts hiding in the trees!" one of the deputies shouted. He was a man with a closely cropped haircut, and everyone heartily agreed.
A boar charging openly was several times better than a monkey demonic beast that hid in the dark of night to stealthily eat your brains. That was undeniably true. Their training ground and playground was the Pen-Hanil Mountains, and compared to the demonic beasts that crawled out of there, these boars were far easier to handle.
All they had to do was chop, slash, and bash the things that lunged at them. And that was exactly what they did. They leaped over the thorn barricades and swung their axes. Though the beasts charged at a terrifying speed, their movement was strictly linear. Therefore, it wasn't difficult to watch, react, and dodge.
Every single one of them possessed a boldness akin to the Beast's Heart.
Naturally, this was all Rem's handiwork. He had tinkered with the Beast's Heart a few times while teaching Encrid, and by now, Rem's own skill had improved significantly, allowing him to refine the technique so that others could learn it much more easily. It wasn't quite at the level where they wouldn't even blink at an incoming blade, but it gave them enough peace of mind to keep their composure. Since he had selected naturally bold men to begin with, this level of training was more than enough.
Rem's Assault Unit fully demonstrated the fruits of their grueling labor.
"Woo-hoo!"
One of the unit members anticipated the path of a boar charging headfirst. Calculating its speed, he spun sideways and brought his axe down in a diagonal slash. As a result, the charging boar practically threw itself onto the blade.
Thwack!
Maintaining his posture from the downward swing, he channeled strength into both arms and twisted the angle of the blade. No matter how strong a man was, he couldn't withstand the full momentum of a charging beast several times his weight. Therefore, the trick was to aim for the back of the neck, sink the blade deep into the beast's hide and flesh, and then forcefully wrench the axe upward at an angle. With a sickening rip, the boar's hide, flesh, and blood sprayed into the air.
It was a deflecting strike, a technique that required immense strength. Though it was a highly advanced, almost acrobatic feat, their rigorous training allowed them to display this level of skill.
The number of charging boar demonic beasts rapidly dwindled. Many boars were killed by lucky strikes that split their necks or skulls, and more than ten were brought down by targeted swings to their legs, causing them to collapse under their own momentum.
The battlefield was painted in a deluge of black blood. Viscount Harrison, the vigilante captain, and the spectating soldiers could only gape in stunned silence. It was a spectacle worthy of such a reaction.
Not that any of this was enough to fully satisfy Rem, of course.
"If you guys do well, I'll head back as is. But if you screw up or if I hear any annoying rumors, I'm coming right back." Rem's way of "cheering" them on was unique, to say the least.
At those words, every member of the Assault Unit snapped their heads up. Desperation filled their eyes. Even as they split the skulls of the boars lunging at them, they hung on Rem's every word. The two deputies leading the fight were especially desperate.
"Yes, sir! We will do our best!"
Rem nodded. Since he had already come out, he planned to clean up the surrounding area a bit before heading back.
I heard bandits have been running rampant around here lately.
Without even saying goodbye, Rem turned his back on the fighting men. Everyone else was too engrossed in watching the slaughter of the boar demonic beasts to notice. Slipping away, Rem began searching for traces of the newly formed bandit group on his way back. Tracking and finding traces of human presence was, after all, one of Rem's specialties.
*
The bandit group had established their base about a two-day journey from the city guarded by the Viscount. Their base consisted of wooden barricades for walls and crude huts for shelters. No matter how one looked at it, it was a shoddy setup. It seemed unlikely they could even make a decent living unless someone was backing them on purpose.
Rem made his assessment but didn't care. Either way, today was their last day. It didn't matter who was backing them, or if there was some exceptionally talented fighter among them.
Lacking anything resembling a watchtower, a bandit holding a bow behind the barricade could only stare with his mouth wide open.
What the hell was that?
He had clearly aimed and shot at the approaching figure, but the moment he released the bowstring, his target was already standing right in front of the barricade. He hadn't even blinked, yet the man had vanished without leaving an afterimage, as if he had teleported forward.
Rem had activated the sorcery known as Leopard's Paw. Naturally, tracking his movements with ordinary eyes was an impossible task.
Crash!
Kicking open the barricade of their base, Rem shouted: "Hey! Today is your last day. If you want to live, run away right now. Got it?"
As the barricade shattered and wooden splinters flew, Rem struck down the two archers who had shot at him. In the meantime, a swarm of bandits came rushing out.
"What is this crazy bastard talking about?! We are the Blood Brotherhood!" The leaders were five sworn brothers, and every single one of them prided themselves on their loyalty.
"We live together!"
"And we die together!"
Since they lunged at him with such declarations, Rem decided to grant their wish.
"Sure. You can all die together today."
Interestingly, these bandits controlled demonic beasts by blowing some kind of flute, using its sound to command the boars. As Rem approached, they blew the flute, and from a pit dug in the center of the village, a beast twice the size of a normal demonic beast—with two horns protruding from the sides of its snout—lunged out. Its eyes were blood-red, and it was incredibly ferocious, as if it had been starved for days.
Trill!
As the flute's sound echoed, the beast leaped out of the pit as if launching into the air, charging straight at Rem the moment it spotted him. Rem, who had been casually chatting while fiddling with his axe handle, stopped, drew the weapon in a flash, and swung it vertically.
For a split second, the trajectory of Rem's axe swing made it look as if the world itself was being split in two. At least, that was how it appeared to the bandit leaders.
Splat!
The beast's body was cleaved vertically down the middle, collapsing to the left and right in front of Rem. Guts and blood spilled out in a torrent, drenching the ground. Even right after swinging his axe, Rem continued to fiddle with the handle, muttering to himself.
"Oh, you're not in a good mood today? Ah, I see."
To the leaders of the brotherhood, this man was undeniably insane. Who was he talking to? Himself? An alter ego?
Names like the "Mad Knights" or the "Order of Madness" had spread far and wide, and many knew of Rem's name, but almost no one could recognize him by face alone. However, after witnessing Rem's axe work, everyone could tell that something was terribly wrong.
"I told you to run if you don't want to die," Rem said, casually resting his axe on his shoulder.
At his nonchalant attitude, four of the brotherhood leaders turned tail and fled, leaving only one dim-witted fellow to charge at him. Shocked to see his four sworn brothers abandoning him, the man couldn't even properly swing his iron-banded club. Rem lightly swung his axe, cleaving the club in two and severing one of his attacker's arms.
"Aaargh!"
Rem then chased down the other four, splitting their skulls, bashing, and thrashing them one by one.
"Weren't you brothers?"
The bandits numbered over a hundred, and several among them were skilled archers. However, when Rem demonstrated the absurd feat of catching incoming arrows out of the air and throwing them back to kill them, everyone lost the will to fight.
Just like that, the bandit group that controlled hordes of demonic beasts—a major plague of the south—was wiped out. Who could have ever imagined that a knight-level powerhouse would come all the way here just to tear a bandit group apart?
It was truly something no one could have anticipated.