Chapter 709: Intuition Ransacks My Mind
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 709: Intuition Ransacks My Mind
“You still have a chance. Serve me. I will ensure you achieve everything you desire.”
It was impossible to tell where the voice originated, but the words of the alchemist Demuil pierced through the storm, reaching every ear. A faint, sweet scent drifted through the air—perhaps a lingering trace of a spell—though it was a fragrance only Encrid could detect.
“Give up, Tempe. Just as Demuil said, what can two swordsmen and a girl possibly hope to achieve?”
Hescal spoke as he raised his left hand. At his gesture, another squirming horde of monsters surged forward from the rear. When he raised his right hand, the monstrous ranks multiplied yet again.
They’ve organized into units.
Encrid’s gaze darted left and right.
It was surprising enough that the monsters were lined up like a disciplined army, but they were even divided by type. The ones advancing at Hescal’s left hand were Scalers mounted atop lizard demonic beasts.
The lizards flicked their tongues. The torrential rain cascaded between their eyes and down the bridges of their noses, forming miniature streams. Because their brow ridges protruded sharply, deep grooves ran down the center of their faces, making the path of the flowing water clearly visible.
Though the storm made it difficult to distinguish colors, the lizards' scales—distinct from the Scalers themselves—were not entirely pitch-black, even if they appeared so in the gloom.
There were easily over three hundred of them.
The Scalers sat atop the beasts without reins, yet they looked as though they wouldn't fall or lose their footing even if the lizards charged at full speed. A Scaler’s skull wasn't soft to begin with, and they wouldn't attempt mounted combat if they weren't supremely confident in their balance.
Hescal had betrayed Zaun, but he hadn't lost his wits. He was no fool.
There are so many of them.
The number of monsters was already nearing two thousand.
Several more squirming masses remained on the gently curving slope below. The monsters would keep coming, an endless tide. One didn't need a knight’s insight to realize the gravity of the situation.
To the right of Encrid’s field of vision, over three hundred more Scalers and Owlbears crouched low. It was a staggering force.
He hid them well.
Concealing such a force was likely Hescal’s doing. It had to be. After all, the man was a master of information manipulation.
The creatures ascending from below were also falling into line, moving in tight formation. Encrid decided that if the instructor who had trained these monsters was human—or any intelligent race—he would ask about their methods before he killed them. Purely as a feat of discipline, it was impressive.
Brushing aside stray thoughts, he observed the black masses through the wind and rain. The creatures gathering on the right had structures on their backs that looked like membranous wings, similar to a bat's.
Can they fly? Most likely.
They wouldn't have wings just for show. Keeping that possibility in mind, the bodies of the creatures on the right suddenly seemed remarkably light. Since flight requires a low body mass, perhaps these monsters had been engineered with hollow bones?
Encrid kept his eyes on the horde while tracking the positions of his allies, gauging the distance to the enemy and calculating their relative combat power. He took every variable needed for the fight, fed it into his mind, and processed it.
“The flow of the battlefield is organic. Even if a force becomes an elite army through training, the variables that arise in battle are unpredictable. Of course, there are those who fight by calculating all of this. People like Big-Eyes. But even Krais wouldn't be able to predict every single detail of a battlefield.”
These were the words Luagarne had spoken while teaching him tactical thinking. She had continued:
“But as far as battles I am personally involved in, I can do something similar.”
And then:
“That is how I kill opponents stronger than myself.”
She had spoken with absolute confidence.
Must one fight purely with raw skill? Does that even matter in a fight to the death?
“It doesn't matter at all,” Encrid muttered to himself. His mind was a furnace of continuous calculation.
Luagarne possessed a talent that was exceedingly rare across the entire continent. Encrid acknowledged this now. The more he learned from her, the more he realized the depth of her genius.
“I am Frok, a challenger who has resolved to transcend limits.”
Her words—the words of Frok Luagarne—set his mind ablaze.
Her battles began with tactics, and the foundation of tactics was deception. What Hescal had shown was the same. He had hidden his strength. The existence of Demuil was within the Clan Head’s expectations, but everything else was a wild card. In particular, a monster horde transformed into a disciplined army was completely unforeseen.
In other words, a clash of many against many was about to erupt.
Therefore, what Zaun needed most at this moment was a single current to control a crowd that moved as it pleased.
“Feel the flow, Enki. You can do it. Haven't you already experienced commanding a battlefield through your senses?”
Indeed. He had blocked the army of Azpen with a formless wall. What had moved Encrid back then was intuition. It was no different now.
Rumble!
Thunder roared like an angry god.
Boom!
Lightning scorched the earth, shattering the ground. The storm grew even more fierce.
To Encrid’s eyes, every single raindrop appeared distinct, split by his focus. One part of his partitioned thoughts perceived the situation, while the other calculated. It was a variation of the Wave-Blocking Sword.
On top of that, his intuition—which transcended the five senses and had become second nature thanks to Sachsen’s teachings—activated. His intuition ransacked his mind, feeding him the answers he needed.
What he had to do. The flow he had to create.
What must I do to win?
The enemy had targeted and harmed those among their allies with military experience to prevent them from forming a proper battle array. Therefore, what was needed most was a formation—a shape that would not collapse.
Huuup!
Encrid drew a deep breath, centering it in his abdomen. Then, he expelled it with a sharp burst of pressure. The air passed through his vocal cords, transforming into a shout infused with Will.
“Clan Heaaad—! Right theeeere—! Be the wall—!”
The words were short and blunt. Would he understand? He would. If he didn't, he would ask.
The Clan Head didn't even look back. Encrid could only see the back of his head, but the man answered with action.
Thud!
He drove his sword into the ground and drew a long, deep line.
“Since it's raining, the moat will fill itself.”
He even cracked an uncharacteristic joke. Since he was the wall, the line drawn by his sword was the moat. He would not allow the monsters gathered here to dare cross that line.
The Clan Head spoke with his back, and the response was immediate.
“We are!”
“Za-un!”
“Seekers who walk!”
“The path of the sword!”
At Riley’s lead, the call was taken up, and as Katar shouted, the nineteen-year-old girl of Zaun, brimming with talent, finished the sentence.
No matter what you do, we will not waver.
Such was the wall erected by the Clan Head. He had provided something far greater than what Encrid had asked for.
Still, it was not enough. The Clan Head alone could not block the wave of monsters. He had merely established the central axis. Encrid brought his right hand to his mouth, channeling his voice to project it across the field.
“Alexandra, ten paces to the right of the Clan Head! Rynox, how well can you fight?”
“Are you asking me how well I can fight? Cut the cheeky crap, kid. I’ve been holding a sword since before you were born.”
“Just because you’ve done it a long time doesn't mean you’re any good at it.”
He slipped in a joke amidst the tension. The reason he joked even while the veins in his neck bulged? It was the same intention behind the Clan Head’s jest. The shoulders of those who had stiffened at the sight of the monster army began to relax.
Boost the morale of our allies.
It was deliberate.
Next, read the enemy’s flow.
He would guide that flow, trapping the battlefield within his own intentions. His intuition throbbed, piercing his skull. It felt as if tiny fragments of lightning were tearing through his brain.
“Anahera, you may run wild!”
At Encrid’s shout, the shackles of the red-blooded beast were unleashed.
“Hahahahaha!”
Normally, Anahera suppressed her giant instincts. If she hadn't, she would have already killed many of those around her. But on a battlefield teeming with enemies, there was no need for restraint.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The giantess kicked off the wet, muddy ground and sprinted. Muddy water splashed high with every stride. By the time the spray fell back to the earth, Anahera had clashed with the foremost group of monsters.
She stood alone before the lizard horde, a force large enough to be considered a heavy cavalry unit. To an observer, it was the sight of a mad giant charging into the enemy ranks single-handedly.
“Intercept her!” someone from the opposing side shouted. One of Hescal’s subordinates.
At his command, over a dozen arrows flew. They weren't shot in an arc but fired directly at close range by archers hiding among the monsters.
Thwip, thud, clang.
A few grazed her and bounced off her tough hide; another struck her head but fell away after hitting her iron helmet. Only a single arrow managed to pierce her forearm, and even that was quickly dislodged by her violent movements. It had barely managed to prick the surface of her skin.
A giant’s skin is thick and tough. Ordinary arrows were useless. Those who had lived confined within Zaun had likely forgotten that fact.
Encrid knew the Hunter Village was their enemy. Could there not be a master archer among them? Of course there was. But was there any guarantee those arrows would work against a giant?
Several archers froze in panic, their hands stopping mid-draw. A ripple of unease spread through the enemy ranks.
Then, Anahera came face-to-face with a Scaler riding a lizard. The lizard opened its maw wide, baring saw-blade teeth, while the Scaler held a blackened short spear in a reverse grip and thrust forward.
Anahera twisted the corners of her mouth into a wide grin and swung her sword. She was a giant, and though she was intoxicated by her instincts, she did not forget she was a sword of Zaun.
What came from her hands was the swordsmanship of Zaun.
Squelch.
Her left foot dug ankle-deep into the mud. The force of her step was channeled into a vertically descending strike. It was a Heavy Sword Style Half-Moon Slash, swung with a massive surge of Will.
Whoosh!
The harmony of the giant’s physical strength and Will split both the lizard and the Scaler clean down the middle.
Splurt!
Black blood sprayed, drenching her helmet. The relentless rain washed it away in an instant.
“Die, all of you!” the giantess roared toward the sky.
Had he anticipated all of this? No. Encrid had merely followed his intuition.
“Kato, follow her and watch Anahera’s back!”
As he spoke, Encrid’s head turned continuously. Before he knew it, the enemy horde was also rushing toward the Clan Head.
If I were Hescal, I would also use the monsters to wear them down.
It was a tactic that would be difficult to pull off with a human army, but with monsters, there was no reason not to. Monsters knew no fear. Using them to exhaust the enemy was a highly profitable trade.
Had he known this beforehand? Not at all. He had erected the wall purely on intuition to drastically reduce their casualties.
Scalers on lizards, creatures with red scales mixed into their black ones, Owlbears with steel feathers, and the winged beasts in the sky—they all charged in formation.
Blocking their path were the Clan Head, Alex, and Rynox.
Was it only three? No, it was a formidable three. A knight is a disaster; a single knight can slay a thousand. They were more than capable.
Anahera tore through the ranks while Kato guarded her back. He would leave those two be. Both had distinct specialties that made them ill-suited for close-order combat. Anahera had to run wild without distinguishing friend from foe, and Kato fought with weapons concealed all over his body. It was more efficient for him to be surrounded.
Encrid had sent them out first to exploit that advantage. If you strike before the enemy can complete their charge, their formation will crumble. That held true whether they were monsters or men. The ones in the lead were dragged into a chaotic brawl.
Encrid’s intention worked. Hescal pulled back the forces that hadn't been caught in the melee, reorganizing them to flank.
He really is clever.
Hescal was clever. Encrid realized it once again. However, while Hescal fought with his head, Encrid relied on his intuition. There was no reason to panic. His intentions had been read? That was only natural. All he had to do was respond to the next move.
The enemy’s aim was clear: force them to fight individually while the monsters fought in formation. Zaun had lost its veteran commanders.
In their stead, a commander who had risen from the very bottom as a soldier, surviving countless wars in the Border Guard—and who had learned the sword of tactics from the Frok named Luagarne—stepped in to fill the void.