Chapter 767: The Talent to Find Victory in Adversity
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 767: The Talent to Find Victory in Adversity
A massive black bird circled, gathering momentum, before tucking its wings and plummeting. Its speed belied its enormous frame—or perhaps its sheer weight made the descent even faster.
With a sharp crack that tore through the air, the black bird swept past the ground—and Rem vanished from his spot.
"What a crazy bastard."
Pel spat out the words in high praise after witnessing Rem’s stunt.
He had wondered what the man was planning when he asked for support.
Just before the bird struck, the madman of the West had lashed a cord tightly around his hand axe and hurled it skyward.
As the black bird thrust its beak forward like a massive spear, Ropode and Pel swung their swords, parrying the blow, while the axe and cord Rem had tossed caught perfectly around the beast's neck.
In a heartbeat, Rem was mounted on the bird as it soared back into the sky.
"Commander."
Ropode called out to Encrid, but Encrid already knew the nature of the one man he never had to worry about.
"That's Rem."
It was a simple statement: the man was more than capable of holding his own, even in the heavens.
"Loo-loo-la-la!"
A bizarre, roaring shout echoed from above. It was Rem.
His forced, cheerful shouting was likely influenced by the hymn Teresa was singing below. For the first time in a long while, Rem recalled the lyrics he used to sing back in the West.
Wasn't there a saying among his people that a crow's cry brought bad luck?
Clinging to the bird's back, Rem used sorcery to summon a familiar. The moment the phantom of a Great Eagle materialized behind him, he channeled strength into his fingers and drove them deep between the black bird's feathers. His fingers tore through the plumage like eagle talons, sinking into the flesh beneath.
Preeeeeee!
He pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle, mimicking the cry of a raptor.
Rem lowered his center of gravity and crawled forward, using his left hand as an anchor. His movements were no different from a pathfinder scaling a sheer cliff—except he was scaling the back of a massive demonic beast high in the sky.
Once he reached the bird's head, he drove his Descent Weapon, the axe, straight down. There was no hesitation, making the strike look incredibly swift.
The black bird thrashed wildly, tilting violently to shake off the intruder, but Rem held fast.
The result was inevitable.
The axe split its skull.
Crack!
Black blood and brain matter sprayed from its head like rain. With his left hand still anchored in the beast's flesh, Rem hunched his back and half-stood.
Looking up, he saw the distorted gray sun fading in the distant sky. Another bird swept past right in front of it.
Having anticipated the movement, Rem had already hooked his Descent Weapon back onto his belt clasp. He immediately wrenched the hand axe from the dying bird’s skull and hurled it.
A massive size simply meant a larger target.
Shhhk!
The hand axe sliced through the air and embedded itself in the second bird's back with a dull thud. The dying bird beneath him was falling, but it still served as a temporary stepping stone.
Using the falling carcass as a springboard, Rem coiled his strength and yanked the cord tied to the axe. The circling black bird flapped its wings frantically, dragged backward as it stalled in midair.
It was only for a split second, but that was all Rem needed. He leaped while pulling the cord, spreading his arms to catch the wind, and landed squarely on the next beast's back.
With his arms wide as he glided through the sky, he looked like a literal eagle.
Meanwhile, the bird he had used as a stepping stone crashed to the ground, far from the main battlefield.
Boom!
Amidst the thunderous crash of the falling beast, Rem's axe split the skull of the second bird.
Preeeeeee!
Once again, his whistle echoed through the high heavens.
*
How does he plan on getting down?
Anyone else might have harbored such doubts, but Encrid did not.
He truly believed Rem would find his own way. Rem wasn't the type to leap without a plan. Besides, there were plenty of ways. He could use the trees to break his fall, or if all else failed, he could just ask Audin to catch him.
Though knowing him, he'd rather break his legs than ask for help.
He hadn't flown so high that he was a mere speck, so he would likely be fine.
No sooner had that thought crossed Encrid's mind than the last of the three black birds panicked. As Rem boarded it, the creature soared straight up into the sky.
Even to Encrid, it looked like a desperate, fear-driven reaction, but the result was a mutual suicide dive.
Humans could not fly. That remained true even for a knight. The bird, which had once cast a massive shadow over them, now looked as small as a human body in the distance.
Encrid wondered if Rem would try to steer it down, but Rem simply severed the bird's neck.
Once again, black blood rained from the sky. Amidst the pattering blood, falling feathers, and the plummeting carcass, there was a single man.
Rem used the dead bird's body as a springboard one last time, performing an astonishing feat. Once he had descended to a certain height, he began to glide.
Rem was a shaman, not a knight.
He summoned the spirit of an eagle to buoy his body. He couldn't truly fly, but with his arms spread wide, it looked more like a graceful glide than a fall.
The only problem was...
"I think he's lost."
Ragna, having finished off the nearby Plague Ghouls, walked over. When Encrid remained silent, Ragna repeated himself.
"There goes that directionally challenged idiot."
He sounded somewhat amused.
"...He'll find his way back."
The black bird had flung Rem far away. Whether the demonic beast had intended to do so in its death throes was unknown, but if it had wanted to deal one last spiteful blow, it had succeeded.
Still, Encrid wasn't worried. Rem wasn't Ragna; a hunter of the West could find his way even in the Demon Realm. There was no need to wait for him.
For whatever reason, the Demonic Spirit on the spire had vanished, and there was no sign of the shaman—or the castellan.
In truth, the two had likely left because they knew this audacious group would have to fight here until they were exhausted. Plague Ghouls were troublesome monsters, and they weren't the only ones here.
Modified crow demonic beasts flew overhead, and following the ghouls, the area was packed with monsters created through forbidden research and dark arts.
Above all, the defenders were inside a fortress surrounded by a thorn-shrouded wall. They could afford to take their time. From the Demonic Spirit's perspective, it also needed to conserve its strength after raining arrows down on them.
Their plan was simple: mock the exhausted intruders from high above while they struggled against the endless ghouls.
"Well, you fought well. Now, how about playing with a four-armed Werewolf? Ah, my apologies. I also have an 'elite' monster back there that I poured my heart and soul into. Have you seen it yet?"
They would look down from the castle wall and sneer.
Thus, the intruders would face difficulties far greater than merely dealing with Plague Ghouls. Arrows would rain from the spire trees, and Crystal Knights clad in black armor would be deployed.
Even Encrid couldn't read the intentions of the vanished castellan or the Demonic Spirit. But if they were acting this way out of faith in their castle wall, he was more than ready to shatter that faith.
And though those two had left, the wall was not entirely deserted. A few shadows lingered. To Encrid's eyes, those shadows seemed to flicker.
The moment he noticed them, he realized Sachsen had already vanished.
Sachsen would do his job. And those left behind would do theirs.
Encrid spoke.
"Lua."
Frok did not answer immediately. Instead, her large eyes rolled continuously, scanning the environment.
The castle wall, the monsters, the arrows, the Demonic Spirit, the terrain, the situation. She took everything in, painting a tactical map in her mind.
Frok Luagarne—she found victory in adversity. That was her specialty. She was a tactician who could turn a disadvantage into an advantage, or at least level the playing field.
Because this was based on Frok's unique combat instincts, it was neither easy to teach nor to learn, but her ability was undoubtedly the real deal. If she could turn a disadvantageous situation into an even match, she would perform even more exceptionally in a battle where they already held the upper hand.
That was the foundation of the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword.
It was something Encrid had also managed to grasp after dying countless times. How could Luagarne not dote on Encrid? Combat instinct wasn't something that could be taught, yet this man learned every time she showed him.
As Luagarne stared at the castle wall, Encrid began a similar train of thought.
Siege experience.
Encrid recalled the moments he had attacked castles in his past lives. There weren't many. There was no need to weigh the advantages of defense or the weaknesses of offense here. There was no moat, nor did it seem like they would pour boiling oil.
Instead, the moment they approached the wall, the Thorn-shrouded Wraiths would reach out and try to tear them apart. He knew this without having to experience it.
Since this isn't an ordinary castle, we shouldn't approach it with standard tactics.
Generally, the defense had the advantage. But none of that applied right now. His allies were a small elite force with no separate supply lines, and the thorn fortress in the Demon Realm was no ordinary castle.
Encrid's mind worked rapidly, leaving only two core questions.
What did his side lack?
Siege weapons.
Even if this wasn't a standard siege, having catapults would have been an advantage. On the wall, ballistas made of bone were visible; the enemy possessed heavy weapons that his side lacked.
Then, the second question: what did his side possess?
Eight forces of combat power known as disasters.
It would be nine once Rem returned. Eight disasters, plus one Frok who knew how to exploit every opening.
Encrid's gaze settled on Luagarne. She didn't puff out her cheeks or make a sound; she simply stared in silence.
The gray-tinted sunlight was fading, swallowed by the dark. It was as if black soot was spreading across the sunset of the Demon Realm, a black brush painting from the sky to the ground.
Just before the darkness completely filled their surroundings, Luagarne's cheek twitched.
"This should be fun."
That was all she said.
"Let's just smash our way through."
Luagarne's explanation was short and to the point. She knew what each of her allies was capable of. Asking them to clumsily circle the wall would be a terrible move.
Will is not infinite.
Even if Encrid possessed an inexhaustible supply of Will, his physical stamina was not limitless. Therefore, they had to break through in a single bound.
They possessed more than enough martial might to do so.
The enemy had underestimated them. The group, which had been moving in a tight cluster, now spread out wide, facing the castle wall head-on as they advanced.
Luagarne didn't overcomplicate things. Sometimes, the simplest answer was the clearest. Wasting time trying to scheme would only hand the tactical advantage to the enemy. What was needed was an element of surprise that defied all expectations.
A feat possible only with absurd martial power—this was exactly what Luagarne wanted.
There was no gate in the castle wall. No visible passage. It was merely covered in awl-like thorns and thin, sharp needles that looked painful just to behold.
"I shall open it," Audin spoke, looking at the gateless wall.
Groooan. Urgh. Bleeegh.
Perhaps due to the influence of Teresa’s hymn, the screams of the wraiths making up the wall sounded different. Some were vomiting a dark red substance that pooled beneath the wall. Did they want to create a moat?
Another, with a distorted face, thrust out a thorn-covered tongue, flicking it like Luagarne’s whip.
Crack, crack!
The thorny tongue tore through the air, prepared to shred anything that drew near. Others reached out with their arms, their faces split in two, thrusting bifurcated tongues forward like awls.
Not a single one of them was still.
"Shall I sing?" Teresa asked.
"Save your strength, Sister," Audin replied, shaking his head.