Chapter 796: Balance, Containment, Attack, Defense
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 796: Balance, Containment, Attack, Defense
The Flame Whip reared its head from the flank and lunged. It traced circles of fire in the air before striking down with heavy thuds, looking like a javelin hurled by a giant with all his might. It was a sight that wouldn't have been out of place in the age of myth.
Yet, the basics remained the same: block and strike, dodge and strike. Even if the power and speed behind the blows were on an entirely different level, the fundamentals held true. And of those basics, blocking was his job.
I can see it.
The whip was not human, but its lines of attack were clear to his eyes. If he could see them, he could block them.
Encrid moved, drawing upon the principles of the Wave-Blocking Sword. Accelerating his thoughts, he swung Duskforge. His eyes traced long lines in the air, leaving two blue streaks in their wake—afterimages born of extreme acceleration.
His superhuman kinetic vision, physical strength, and reflexes coalesced, sending his sword thrusting into a realm unimaginable to ordinary men.
Encrid made his move.
The tip of his sword caught the whip. Before he knew it, the Balrog was gripping the whip's handle. In a silent instant, the whip bent and split into three branches.
This was the Salamander's specialty. The technique of dividing its body into several parts was easy to fall prey to if one was caught unprepared.
Encrid's sword changed its trajectory mid-swing. Halting its powerful slash, the blade shifted into a light, snapping strike. With that, he deflected all the whip's tips. Using the recoil of the deflection, he brought his returning blade down to block the Balrog's kick, which had already closed the distance.
The moment he blocked the kick, the Balrog's tail wrapped around Encrid's ankle.
Crack!
The tail packed enough force to snap an ankle in an instant. No matter how well-trained his body was, it should have broken.
While the Balrog's attacks were focused on Encrid, Audin moved. His massive frame collided directly with the Balrog's arm holding the whip. The moment they made contact, all his movements accelerated, snapping the Balrog's elbow backward.
In response, the Flame Whip surged from below, trying to wrap its red tongue around Audin's neck. Having no choice but to dodge, Audin stepped back, releasing the Balrog's elbow. Of course, he didn't let go without leaving a mark. Though he failed to completely tear it off, he had still twisted and shattered it halfway.
The sickening crunch had come from the Balrog's elbow. Chronologically, the tail's constriction and Audin's strike had occurred at the exact same time.
Furthermore, Encrid's ankle was perfectly fine. He had only lost one of his boots. The tail had constricted and shredded the leather instead of his foot.
Thwack!
Having failed its objective, the Balrog lashed the ground with its tail.
"Secret technique: Shedding."
Encrid stood there and muttered blankly. If they survived this battle, it would probably be a running joke for a long time.
Just before Encrid spoke—while the Balrog was swinging its whip and kicking at the two, in the brief gap where Audin and the tail crossed paths—Ragna's blade fell toward the Balrog once more, cloaked in flames. It was a diagonal slash.
It was a single strike, but if left unblocked, it would cleave the Balrog's body in two. The Balrog dodged, raising his sword, Urt, to parry.
Sshhk.
The blades forged of Will clashed, scraping past each other as they crushed and shattered their materialized forms. Since those blades drew upon their masters' Will to sharpen themselves, they naturally regained their original shapes after brushing past each other. Of course, even that was a loss for Ragna. He was already drawing upon his Will to its absolute limit.
Still, he had to swing his sword.
If Rem had opened the path earlier, this time Ragna had volunteered to be the bait. In other words, Ragna knew a gap would open the moment their swords clashed, and he trusted the barbarian to throw something.
From far away, a projectile flew toward the Balrog's chest, outrunning its own sound. A roaring whoosh followed closely behind. The Balrog's left elbow was bent backward, and Urt in his right hand had been pushed back during the clash with Ragna's blade. Ragna hadn't just met the force head-on; he had also deflected it using the Soft Sword style.
An opening.
Ragna's talent allowed him to find the exact point where the opponent's flow abruptly snapped. He surely wasn't the only one who could see it. Deflecting the opponent's weapon with the Soft Sword was also a way to widen that opening. Ultimately, everything had been for this very moment.
It was a tactic to ensure the barbarian's projectile landed a clean hit.
The Balrog blocked the projectile in a bizarre manner. He simply ducked his head. In other words, he blocked the Fiery Roar thrown by Rem with the horns on his head, essentially using his skull as a shield.
Boom!
An ordinary person's eardrums would have ruptured instantly. A deafening roar erupted, shaking the entire space created by the Balrog's Authority. The Balrog stumbled backward. It seemed like an opening, but it wasn't.
Encrid did not step forward, and because everyone was matching his pace, they did not move either. The Balrog was still composed. This was evident from how he feigned vulnerability to bait his enemies.
"I've got the hang of it again."
Encrid spoke once more. Though he was now wearing only a single boot on his right foot, the resolve in his voice remained unwavering.
Straight, upright, and solid. The Will within him transformed into a similar shape. This was thanks to the technique of Indules, which was now fully integrated into his body.
Condensing and layering his Will into a solid mass. By filling his entire body with this transformed Will, he could withstand and block even the monstrous sword swung by the Balrog. His body had already experienced and proven this.
Crack-crack.
Taking advantage of the brief pause, the Balrog shook his left arm, and the twisted limb snapped back into its original shape. It was a regenerative ability that rivaled Frok's.
The moment he healed, the Balrog lunged again. He held Urt in his right hand while the whip moved on its own. He extended his hands and feet simultaneously. Black flames that would never extinguish upon contact flickered on his blade, and if one were caught by the blazing whip of Salamander, their flesh would burn and bones would shatter.
Encrid's head grew hot as he perceived all those lines of attack. If he simply endured like this, it would just be a repetition of the 'calculation' he had used against the Balrog at first.
If combat calculation isn't enough...
Then it was the Sword of Chance. He would react to the Balrog's strikes moment by moment. He would stake everything on reacting. After all, he only needed to block.
A certain theory flashed through his mind, attempting to take shape before dispersing. Now was the time to channel even the energy spent on stray thoughts into a single focus.
Encrid did just that. He focused.
Not just calculating the odds, but making even the odds work in my favor.
He staked everything on a single, simple thought.
The Balrog's sword swept in a high horizontal slash, while his right foot, which should have been planted on the ground, lunged toward Encrid's shin. Even while balancing and supporting his entire weight on his left foot alone, the power behind the Balrog's sword remained undiminished. It was an astonishing display of balance and physical strength.
The Balrog would regenerate as long as his crystal remained unbroken, but that was not the case for them. If they were broken or shattered, they would immediately fall into a fatal disadvantage. In other words, even that seemingly casual kick could be the touch that instantly collapsed the precarious balance of their stone tower.
Should he panic and retreat because of that?
If he had intended to do so, he wouldn't have stepped forward in the first place. No, there wasn't even time for such thoughts.
Encrid opened all his five senses and reacted. Seeing with his eyes, hearing with his ears, feeling with his skin—his heightened senses became a part of his insight, guiding his movements.
Following that guidance, he swung Duskforge upward with his right hand to block Urt's approach, while drawing Penna with his left hand, holding it perpendicular to the ground to use as a shield.
Thud, crash!
The sound of the swords clashing was merely a faint thud thanks to his condensed Will, but a deafening explosion erupted where Penna met the tip of the Balrog's foot. Between these two attacks, the Balrog's left hand thrust forward. Encrid shifted his weight onto his right foot and tilted his body sideways to dodge.
With a sharp crack, the Balrog's hand struck the space where Encrid had just been. The air vibrated from the missed blow. Seizing the moment while his center of gravity was on one foot, Encrid launched his body sideways.
In that brief interval, a projectile flew in. It was Rem's doing, though how many more of those he could throw remained uncertain.
Boom!
The Balrog deflected it with the back of his left hand. The deflected projectile shattered the ceiling of the cave. A shower of stone fragments and dust rained down from above. Though this space was constructed by an Authority, it was also a place with physical reality.
The falling gray dust made the surroundings hazy, as if soot had coated the light of the torch stands. Their vision was slightly obscured, but not a single person was affected by it.
Meanwhile, Audin, who had been dealing with the red whip, deflected it with the edge of his hand and thrust his fist toward the Balrog's chest. Still holding Urt, the Balrog clenched his other hand into a fist and met Audin's punch head-on.
Clang!
Part of the white light imbued with divine power shattered, scattering in all directions. Gaining a brief window to swing Urt from that single clash, the Balrog spun his sword, thrusting the blade diagonally toward Audin's head.
Thud.
Once again, Encrid closed in and blocked it.
A microscopic gap opened, barely wide enough to exist. The genius Ragna squeezed into that gap and thrust his sword. It was a thrust that flew forward, focusing on a single point. The Balrog caught that Sunrise with his front teeth.
Crunch!
Regardless of whether it was caught, Ragna pushed his sword forward with all his might, shattering the Balrog's front teeth and tearing through his cheek.
The beast retreated as smoothly as flowing water. It was a natural withdrawal, devoid of footsteps or any warning signs. As he backed away, his torn mouth stretched wide, making him look as if he were grinning in sheer delight.
The beast that had retreated lunged forward once more. With black mist flowing like water along his torn mouth, the Balrog struck without even taking a breath.
There was no time to rest. Even less time to assess or reflect. Encrid's thoughts accelerated repeatedly, but he could find no breathing room.
Don't look at the lines; look at the points and block.
Even with accelerated thoughts, he could only process fragmented ideas. Encrid shifted the method of his Wave-Blocking Sword, moving away from predicting and blocking the lines extending from his opponent's body to relying entirely on his raw senses.
In a way, it was a momentary flash of wit, but it was also fair to say that luck had been on his side. After all, it was the correct answer. Because of it, he was able to continuously block the Balrog's brutal sword strikes, punches, kicks, wings, and even the occasional lashing tail.
Clang, boom!
The battle raged on.
Ragna was in charge of the offense. Whenever an opening appeared, he thrust or slashed with all his might. The openings appeared only for a split second, making the windows of attack extremely small and narrow. It was like trying to thread a needle with a sword. If he missed it, they would have to precariously block the Balrog's sword, whip, hands, and feet until another opening presented itself.
To Sinar, who was watching from a distance, the situation was clearer than it was to those fighting in the thick of it.
If Ragna was the attack...
Audin maintains the balance.
His massive frame, comparable to a bear beastman, became a shield imbued with divine power, and at times, a hammer to assist.
And that bastard Rem handles the containment.
To Sinar, Rem was also just "that bastard Rem." The projectiles thrown from afar were sometimes more threatening than Ragna's sword. They served as containment—attacks that forced openings to appear, and heavy blows capable of shattering any part of the Balrog's body should Ragna's assault leave a gap.
And the only reason all of this was possible was because of the human who was blocking the Balrog's monstrous onslaught.
Watching everything, Sinar reminded herself of the composure characteristic of an elf. She suppressed the urge to rush forward immediately and throw her body into the fray, even if only to block a single strike from the Balrog.
That won't help.
Then, how could she be of help?
A change was needed. The wait would not be long.