Chapter 714: Just as Planned
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 714: Just as Planned
The focus in her eyes, the iron-clad grip, the shifting of muscles beneath armor, the minute tremors, the rain, the wind, and even the murderous intent drifting through the humid air.
Alexandra Zaun gathered every scrap of information, processing it with clinical precision.
It was a technique that calculated the environment to dictate the flow of battle—a specialty her friend Encrid often displayed.
But you're not the only one who can do it.
Alexandra focused on the enemy before her, ignoring the howling wind and lashing rain. She shut out the world, narrowing her cognitive domain until only she and her foe remained. By doing so, she even managed to suppress Medusa's Curse of Petrification.
Of course, the curse still clawed at her from outside her focus. But since she couldn't exactly decapitate Medusa this very second, she had no choice but to ignore it.
So, that was exactly what she did. She pushed it aside and heightened her concentration. She forgot the falling rain; she forgot the screaming wind.
She entered a world where only she and her enemy existed.
She could see traces of the living in the friend who had returned from death. Behind the helmet venting black steam, she saw a familiar braid.
Andante used to have long, flowing hair.
When Andante had once tried to cut it, claiming it was a nuisance in battle, it was Alexandra who had told her it would be a waste of such beauty. After Alexandra taught her how to braid it, Andante had worn it that way for the rest of her life.
She kept it long for a very long time after that.
Later on, she had even experimented with hiding a blade within the braid, though that had been a passing whim.
Sssss.
The steam gathered, condensed, and seeped back into the helmet.
It was the preparatory movement of a predator. Alexandra shifted her weight, digging her toes into the earth.
Alexandra and Andante never engaged in long, drawn-out sparring matches. They had always preferred single-strike showdowns. Since those spars were bouts where they risked half their lives, the living Andante had thrived on them.
"When you feel like you're brushing against death, the world doesn't look so bright red anymore."
Those were the words she had spoken with a smile, even as blood gushed from a hole in her thigh.
A crimson world—Andante had said that the world sometimes appeared entirely red to her. After a miserable period of her life—one that would sound like a nightmare to anyone else—an uncontrollable urge had awakened within her.
An urge that could only be quieted by killing.
That murderous intent had become a single, pure blade, thrusting toward Alexandra. The pressure sharpened into a crimson edge, looming right before her nose.
Yet, Alexandra did not take a single step back.
They were like two clowns walking a tightrope strung between high poles.
Let's settle this in one strike, Andante.
What happens when you add death to the calamity that is a Knight?
The result stood right before her. Andante would react faster and more dynamically than she ever had in life. Alexandra could tell even without clashing blades.
Andante possessed several other advantages as well. First, her breathing could not be read. Naturally, the dead did not breathe. Furthermore, she could unleash her full power in an instant without needing to warm up her muscles or telegraph her movements.
A mind reduced to pure combat instinct was the greatest strength of a Death Knight.
If there was any saving grace, it was that the total amount of her Will remained unchanged. A Knight's Will did not grow easily, and after death, it could never increase. She could only use the Will she had possessed in life.
However, there was also the fact that any severed limbs would quickly regenerate. This meant the target areas were strictly limited.
She had to take the head or sever the neck—and her opponent surely knew it.
Instinctively, she will unleash a strike meant solely to win.
On the surface, the two of them simply stood there in tranquility. Neither had drawn their sword; they merely stood in loose, relaxed stances. To an outsider, it might look as though they were about to shake hands, but a Death Knight was hardly known for being sociable.
Crack-boom!
A white flash of lightning split the space between them. Even then, neither budged.
After a standoff that felt both eternal and instantaneous, Alexandra moved first.
She bent her knees, exploding off the ground. Just before her body lunged forward, her hand was already gripping her hilt.
Why was she nicknamed Blitzklinge, the Lightning Blade?
Because the sword she swung was fast enough to resemble a bolt from the heavens. It was a speed she had never once shown in her spars with Encrid. Even Rynox had his secrets, so how could she not have a hidden technique reserved for true battle?
She condensed the Will swirling inside her body and let it burst. With that explosive force, she temporarily surpassed her own limits.
Boom!
With a deafening blast, her blade tore through the air, transcending the limits of time to reach her enemy.
Clang!
Andante, now a Death Knight, reacted to Alexandra's speed. However, instead of blocking, she thrust back. At a moment when staying the course would mean getting her stomach pierced while only leaving a scratch on her opponent's helmet, Alexandra accelerated once more.
Boom—
The sound rang in her ears. It wasn't a real sound, but an auditory hallucination caused by gathering her remaining Will and detonating it a second time.
Alexandra's advancing body bent sideways. Her blade traced a jagged, zigzagging trajectory, striking past the Death Knight's guard.
Crack!
The helmet split open, and black steam erupted from within. Alexandra's world turned red. Something warm and wet gushed from her nose. Her legs trembled.
Looking back through her crimson-stained vision, she saw a rotting head inside the shattered helmet.
Whoosh!
A whirlwind parallel to the ground formed in her wake. It was as if a long tunnel had been carved out of the wind and rain. Only after the clash ended did the traces of her tearing through the atmosphere finally manifest.
"Guh."
A sword imbued with Will—and an Imprinted Weapon at that—had split the head. Even a Death Knight was not invincible. If the head was destroyed, they died.
Andante's final words were a mere grunt. Though her true last words had likely been heard by Hescal Zaun long ago.
"Cough!"
Alexandra closed her eyes, letting the bloody tears wash away in the rain. She knelt on one knee, planting the tip of her sword into the ground for support.
"Andante... if you are satisfied, rest now."
Once upon a time, Andante had said she wanted to see a sword faster than what she could achieve. Alexandra had just shown her exactly that.
A double detonation—exploding one's Will was a feat of sheer madness. Yet she had done it twice. And the second time had been even more violent than the first.
Her lower abdomen throbbed as if her internal organs had ruptured, and her head pounded fiercely. The pain reverberated through her entire body, so intense she wondered if she might die. Her insides felt twisted in knots, making it impossible to stand, but... well, it was fine.
While mastering this technique in her youth, she had rendered her body unable to bear children. She had no regrets then, nor did she now. Even if she hadn't given birth to them herself, she had children born of her heart. And in the end, hadn't the technique she forged through such sacrifice helped protect her home?
Still, this is a bit much.
Even within the Zaun family, Alexandra's illness had never been severe. A light cough was all it had ever been. But now that her body was in this state, the sickness reared its head. A sudden, bone-deep chill washed over her.
In a way, it was just a single strike, but that single strike had slain a Death Knight. She had done her part. The only problem was that the battle wasn't over yet.
And my body won't move.
Monsters were fluttering and flying toward her. On top of that, Medusa's eyes were still active. The Curse of Petrification, which she had been able to ignore until now, had become a pressure she could no longer resist.
Alexandra lowered her head to avoid the monsters' gaze. The Sorcery Snakes above her head remained, and Medusa continued to look down upon the battlefield.
This is bad.
Meanwhile, perhaps possessing a brain exceptionally smaller than other demonic beasts, one of the lizard-like creatures charged at her bravely. Alexandra looked as though she were barely holding herself up by leaning on her sword.
The riderless beast opened its maw to bite her head off.
Alexandra drew her sword, swung it, and drove it back into the ground. Her hand was so fast that an ordinary person wouldn't have even seen the movement.
Splat!
Only the beast collapsing before her, its jaw agape and the top of its head sheared off, bore witness to what she had done.
I'm telling you... this is really bad.
She didn't even have the strength to speak, yet the surrounding demonic beasts and monsters were steadily multiplying. It wasn't hard to guess why.
Tempe.
He had been tied down. Even with Rynox by his side.
That bastard Hescal... he truly deserves to be called a fox.
This strategy must have come from him. Turning Andante into a Death Knight and sending her to face her. She didn't know whose victory he had bet on, but if she died here, the scales would tip toward Zaun's defeat.
Her senses grew dull, and she began to feel the heavy weight of her wet clothes. It was a bad sign.
Someone, please... do something about that snake head.
The Curse of Petrification and the Sorcery Snakes were suffocating her. A Scaler wielding telekinesis seized her sword, an invisible grip clamping onto the blade.
And then, she felt a presence behind her. Because of her hazy mind and dulled senses, she hadn't realized someone was standing there until they were already upon her.
I'm a mess.
She shook off the telekinesis and swung her sword backward. She only had enough stamina left for a single swing. If this was the end, she would swing and then scream her husband's name. If he saw her about to die, he would find a way to end his fight and come to her.
Or, well, she would die here and become a vengeful spirit to ruin her husband's remarriage. Absolutely.
So save me, Tempe.
Having estimated the distance of the figure approaching from behind, she yanked her sword free from the telekinetic grip and swung.
Creak, swish, clang!
Her attack was blocked. The opponent held their sword vertically, easily halting her blade's momentum. Then, they took a large stride forward, closing the distance. Their steps were so swift she didn't even have time to call out her husband's name.
* * *
Encrid counted the arrows floating around him and realized that almost all the monsters with supernatural abilities—especially the exceptionally powerful ones—had gathered here.
Though there were likely still several telekinetic monsters left, they could be dismissed as mere rabble. The proof was right before his eyes. At least five of them were standing perfectly still, levitating over a dozen arrows each without so much as lifting a hand.
Fifty arrows hovered in the air, all aimed directly at him. Once those started flying, things would get incredibly troublesome. Moreover, the arrowheads were pitch black.
Encrid could have bet Rem's left hand that they were coated in poison.
"I am Panito, Lord Hescal's right hand," the owner of the net said.
Encrid turned his head to look at him. The steel plate armor, which emitted a faint luster, looked like a treasure in its own right. If Krais saw it, he would surely covet it.
The opponent seemed confident that he had cornered him. Watching him, a sudden thought occurred to Encrid.
Is it over just because I'm caught in a net?
No. It wasn't. An idea flashed through his mind in an instant—a stroke of inspiration.
Blend the Sword of Chance and the Tactical Sword.
Using the Tactical Sword as a foundation, calculate with Flash, and bring even chance and luck within his own intentions. Everything was for the sake of gaining an advantage. After all, that was why tactics existed.
His brain, spinning so fast it felt hot, produced an answer. Encrid's mouth opened like a finely tuned instrument.
"Just as planned."
No, in truth, he really had been caught. But if he could encompass even these coincidences within his intentions, then the current situation could also be considered part of the plan.
"...You anticipated this?" Panito asked, taken aback.
"Of course."
Encrid was shameless. Compared to Ragna, who possessed the sheer audacity to point west and call it north, this level of bluffing was practically cute.
"Impressive, Encrid of the Border Guard."
Encrid had never even faced this Panito guy in a spar. It was said that several of Hescal's followers were too busy with external affairs to be easily met, and Panito was apparently one of them.
He was genuinely surprised, while Encrid briefly let his mind wander. Since he had decided to encompass chance within his intentions, making it actually look that way would be the domain of the Tactical Sword.
Tactics were about deceiving the opponent—in other words, the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword was an Illusion Sword.
A series of small ideas echoed in his head. The Valen-style Mercenary Sword didn't actually teach how to handle a sword in the first place. That was because it was an Illusion Sword. In other words, tactics were based on deception. If he continued to train and delve into the Tactical Sword like this, the path he should take next seemed within reach.
Should he call it a training method for a deceptive sword, or perhaps a deceptive swordsmanship? It was difficult to fully organize these thoughts right now, so he had to settle for merely noting them.
For now, he had to deal with the matter at hand.
"Your plan was to gather the superior specimens among the monsters with supernatural abilities here, eliminate one of our Knight-level forces, and then march straight into Zaun, wasn't it?"
These were words he could speak because he had read his opponent's intentions. Since the enemy had shown their hand this far, it wasn't hard to deduce the purpose behind their cards.
"Indeed. You anticipated even this."
Panito, perhaps not being particularly clever, looked continuously astonished. In a way, he was completely fooled; in another, Encrid's acting skills had reached their absolute peak.
As if walking the path shown by the Tactical Sword, Encrid spoke once more.
"Yes. Everything is going exactly according to plan."
If Krais had seen this, he would have called Encrid the greatest liar on the continent. If Luagarne had seen it, she would have clapped her slippery hands repeatedly.
"None of you shall pass behind me."
And this was the absolute truth. Plan or not, the moment he faced them, Encrid knew what he had to do. And by now, that bastard Ragna would also know what he had to do.
"Even if you figured it out, you won't be able to stop it," Panito said, gritting his teeth. He felt a surge of jealousy that someone had seen right through his master's strategy.
That jealousy quickly transformed into rage, culminating in a murderous intent to kill the man before him at all costs.