Chapter 759: Fire Blade
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 759: Fire Blade
For two whole days, a relentless tide of monsters and demonic beasts surged forward. The gathering creatures drooled, hungering for the scent of fresh flesh and blood.
Though they were eroded by this land, the blood of the people living here was still red. No one had been seriously injured yet, but Encrid saw blood trickling from the scraped knee of a child who had tripped in a panic.
Even as the child fell, the words "Knight of Demonic Charm" escaped their lips.
To Encrid, it sounded like a desperate plea for salvation.
There was no need to explain how alluring the metallic tang of that red blood was to the monsters. They swarmed in massive numbers, drawn by the scent.
Among the horde, the most troublesome foe was a magical creature clad entirely in iron.
Commonly known as a giant iron puppet—an Iron Golem.
Its steel-like body deflected most sword strikes, making it a frustratingly resilient opponent. For anyone who wasn't a knight, they would typically exhaust themselves just trying to leave a scratch on its surface.
It was an incredibly dangerous foe. Arrows and swords were usually useless; the most rational tactic was to smash it with a blunt weapon and locate its core.
This held true even for a knight. Just because one possessed the power to cut through steel didn't mean they could slice through a massive hunk of iron as easily as a radish or a bundle of straw.
Of course, even with those difficulties, it was no match for a knight. It would only take time; they certainly did not lack the skill, strength, or tactics to dismantle it.
As the creature stepped forward, Encrid wondered idly: Does that thing have an appetite? Or is it driven only by the urge to destroy?
His wandering thoughts vanished the moment the creature moved.
Thud!
The ground shook with a single step. Its sheer weight was several times heavier than the rhino that had charged them earlier.
The earth seemed to sink beneath it. Every step built momentum, unleashing a heavy pressure that weighed down on the surroundings.
'On par with the Bull Swordsman.'
That was Encrid's assessment. This monster was twice as dangerous as an ordinary Iron Golem.
Lacking a mouth, it did not roar. Instead, it let the long iron bar in its hands do the screaming.
Clang!
The weapon was a club resembling a sledgehammer with a blunt, heavy end. When the golem slammed it into the ground, a deafening boom echoed, and a sharp vibration traveled up through the soles of their feet.
They say that when an Iron Golem survives for a long time, it fashions a part of its body into a weapon. Encrid had heard that such a weapon was practically no different from an Imprinted Weapon.
In bards' tales, they were depicted as dull sentinels guarding ruins, but facing one in reality, it was a formidable opponent.
Still, someone had to stop it. Ragna, who was closest, stepped forward. Looking up at the golem with half-open eyes, his head naturally tilted back. It was a massive figure, difficult to take in all at once.
'It's huge.'
It looked at least three heads taller than the bear beastman religious fanatic they had encountered before. Up close, its scale was large enough to distort one's sense of perspective.
Ragna felt like he had heard the origin of how these magical puppets came to be in this land during his travels, but he couldn't recall it now.
It didn't matter. Its size changed nothing, and failing to remember its history altered nothing either.
Scraaaape.
The iron sledgehammer scraped against the ground. Ragna watched it with half-closed eyes, his mind focused.
He could do it now.
What exactly? A sword strike that went one step further.
He had been deeply stimulated by what Encrid had shown him, and as if in response, he had found his own answer.
'The transformation of Will.'
While Zaun focused on controlling Will, Ragna focused on its transformation. He would emit his Will and solidify its materialized form.
Shaping and reshaping his Will, filling it, and wishing. He poured his materialized Will to the brim with the singular intent to cut down whatever stood in his way.
'The shape is a blade.'
Over Sunrise, which already radiated heat, a blade exhaling a faint red light was overlaid.
'It's difficult to envelop the entire sword.'
Recognizing that the Will was fracturing in the middle, Ragna refined the shape. The sword began to glow with a red light on only one side of the blade. It looked as though a bright red flame had been molded directly into a razor-sharp edge.
As the golem swung its iron mass, Ragna drew his sword diagonally upward.
He didn't use a grand technique or immense physical strength. His footing was light, and his speed was moderate. He didn't even strain his muscles; in a way, it looked like a light, probing swing—but the result was anything but light.
Slice—whoosh!
The treasured sword, Sunrise, passed through the iron mass as if slicing tofu. Flames erupted in the wake of the blade.
The sledgehammer-like bar snapped in two, and a diagonal scar of fire was carved across the Iron Golem's torso. Ragna immediately straightened his sword and swung vertically, splitting the golem's head and chest.
Every movement looked effortless.
Could a knight not destroy a mere golem? They could. Of course they could. But not like that.
They would usually swing multiple times, gathering strength to smash and shatter the armor to find the core. They could never slice it so cleanly with just two strokes.
Killing a golem with its core exposed was easy. Ragna pierced the round sphere pulsing inside the split body—which resembled a human heart—with the tip of his sword.
With a wet crack, the core shattered, and a dark, glittering liquid poured out. The golem collapsed with a heavy thud, crumbling into finely shattered pieces of iron as the viscous liquid pooled among the wreckage.
Even in the heat of battle, everyone saw it. Not a single person who witnessed Ragna's strike was left unstunned.
The moment the skirmish was wrapped up, Rem spoke up abruptly.
“What did you just do?”
Even though the question was directed at him, Ragna didn't even look at Rem as he spat out a simple answer.
“A sword strike.”
“You call that an explanation?” Rem grumbled, but Ragna ignored him. Even if Rem demanded a more detailed breakdown, a proper answer would never come from a man like Ragna.
Encrid had witnessed the strike as well. As expected, I suppose?
These genius bastards certainly did the most absurd things.
Creating a blade out of Will? This crazy bastard.
It was difficult to even grasp the structure of it at a glance. How did he do it? By wrapping the materialized Will around the blade and swinging it, he had created a sword that severed everything it touched.
“A fire blade?” Teresa muttered. It reminded her of a passage in the scriptures about the God of War wielding a blade of fire that could cut through anything.
“No, Sister,” Audin corrected. “That was not divinity; it belonged to the realm of technique.”
It was a technique that went beyond finely manipulating Will to manifest it in a completely new form. Audin knew he could use a technique to envelop his body in divinity for protection. Having witnessed Ragna's feat, his thoughts naturally expanded.
‘If I gather the Holy Light Armor into the shape of a blade, could I do that?’
The process would be arduous, but it should be possible.
‘And not just the shape of a blade; other forms should be possible as well. Lord Father, is this also a gift you have bestowed upon me? Are you showing this to me through that lazy man?’
Just watching it made Audin feel as though his technique in handling divinity was evolving. Since he had seen it, he would be able to replicate it. Audin's talent was, after all, the greatest among all the Apostles of the God of War in history.
Rem's lips parted and closed several times. Encrid knew Rem wanted to spit out a barrage of curses but was simply at a loss for words.
“Do you feel like you lost?” Encrid teased.
“Shut up. I can do that much too.”
Rem was only saying that because he had been stimulated by Ragna's strike. Encrid knew this well.
Ragna knew what he had accomplished. It was a new path, a new world, a new method that no one had ever achieved before. For the first time in a long while, a sense of omnipotence and superiority washed over him.
He raised his chin slightly and scanned the group. A gathering of those who slaughtered monsters and demonic beasts—the Order of Madness. And their commander stood in the center.
If so, there was only one thing for him to say.
“I suppose I am the vice-commander now.”
At those words, everyone launched a counterattack without missing a beat.
“What nonsense.”
“That position requires years of experience.”
“Did you push yourself too hard and injure your head, lazy brother?”
“If you're going to act just like that barbarian, wouldn't it be better for the two of you to play together?”
It was Rem, Sinar, Audin, and Sachsen, in that order. It almost sounded as if they had spoken in unison.
Sachsen's final remark was particularly sharp. It recalled the time when Rem had used his 'Remaining' technique to fire a bullet, destroying Audin's room and besting Encrid. Sachsen's words meant that Ragna was now no different from Rem back then—immediately lecturing everyone the moment he gained a single step of an advantage.
“Do you want to take it? The Fire Blade?”
Ragna, having overheard Teresa's muttering, casually adopted the name. Naturally, he directed the challenge at Sachsen.
“It's meaningless if you can't land the hit, isn't it?” Sachsen shot back.
A fierce aura clashed between the two. It was like watching two growling beasts. Neither bared their fangs outwardly, but the scene was terrifying enough for those watching.
“It's fine. They won't fight to the death,” Ropode reassured the residents of the Demon Realm who were peeking out one by one.
Pel widened his eyes and muttered, "What on earth is that?" before repeatedly telling himself that talent didn't matter. He would reach that level through effort. Training was the only answer. Pel renewed his resolve once more.
“If you don't give up, you will reach it. Isn't the proof standing right there?” Luagarne said, having overheard Pel's muttering.
Encrid didn't seem to hear those words, nor did he react to the mention of the vice-commander. Was it because he was shocked by witnessing the genius's leap forward?
“This is driving me crazy,” Encrid muttered.
It wasn't difficult to read the emotion laced in his tone. After all, Encrid was no stoic elf. Moreover, the emotion he displayed at times like this was akin to throwing a boulder rather than a pebble into a lake, creating massive ripples that surged like a fountain. It was as thick as the scent of the forest's essence spreading through the heart of the woods.
If one had to put a word to his current emotion, it would be ecstasy—or perhaps pure joy.
The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. The moment she saw that smile, Sinar spoke.
“Shall we have just three children?”
Since when had Sinar's jokes crossed the line so completely? Yet, Encrid didn't even seem to hear her.
“Indeed, I've fallen for him all over again as well,” Luagarne added.
She felt the same way. If one didn't fall for that expression, what else could they possibly fall for? It wasn't in a romantic sense; the charm the man himself exuded was simply extraordinary.
Meanwhile, the eroded residents watched this and grew even more terrified.
Why did these people slaughter all the monsters, chatter casually amongst themselves, and then—while the one in the center smiled—the elf talked about having babies and the Frog Kin spoke of falling in love?
Though they worshipped the Demon God, they were still human. They were people who had lived trapped here, like frogs in a well. Situations far exceeding their comprehension occurred one after another. It was only natural for them to be struck with terror.
Thus, they all fell to their knees, bowing their heads to the ground before Encrid.
*
It took another two days to clean up the aftermath. Although a foul stench lingered even after clearing away the carcasses, no other creatures dared to attack them now.
And for good reason.
Aside from the Iron Golem and harpies, there had been several unique demonic beasts in the horde. There was a gremlin faster than an arrow, and an Armored Bear—a beast whose fur had turned as hard as iron. Sachsen had killed the gremlin, and Teresa had smashed the Armored Bear's head with her shield.
Having witnessed all of this, the residents retreated in sheer terror. Many of them were trembling uncontrollably.
Encrid paid little mind to their attitude. Would acting kindly here change anything? Unlikely.
Rather than that...
“What are we going to do now? He probably has no plan. He's always been the type to just do whatever he feels like on a whim.”
It seemed Roman had just asked Rem what their next move was. Rem was the only one Roman was somewhat familiar with.
“I do have a plan, though,” Encrid said, having overheard them.
Ragna showed no interest, while Audin asked if the Lord had handed down a divine revelation.
Luagarne rolled her large eyes and asked, “What is it?”