Chapter 831: Sour Smell, Saintess, Peerless Beauty
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 831: Sour Smell, Saintess, Peerless Beauty
Faced with a relentless warning from his sixth sense, Encrid leveled Dawn toward his right. His reaction was instantaneous, occurring before Temares could even blink; Encrid’s movements were faster than the Dragonkin’s tongue.
Sound, smell, and touch—every sense harmonized into a single, screaming alarm.
Fire ignited in Encrid’s eyes as he watched a mass begin to take shape. He witnessed every stage of the transformation in agonizing detail.
A line of fire stretched from the vast, roiling clouds of flame in the sky down to a single fireball. That mass came scraping across the earth like a runaway carriage.
Krrr-clatter!
The surrounding space distorted as flames erupted with a deafening roar. The heat was so intense it conjured shimmering illusions in the air.
It was nothing short of a natural disaster. Was it even possible for a human body to withstand a calamity poured out by the heavens?
For an ordinary human, it would be impossible.
But there was not a single ordinary human standing here. Furthermore, this wasn't a task that required everyone to step forward.
‘Dawn.’
Encrid placed his absolute trust in Dawn. Because that trust dwelt within the steel, his imprinted Will began to blaze. The light of Dawn grew deeper and more resonant than ever before.
He stepped forward to meet the flames head-on. He combined the knack he’d used when first cutting fireball spells with the realization he’d gained while slicing through the walking fire.
‘Spell Slaying.’
Esther had given her swordplay that name. Encrid swung his blade. The stroke, heavy with overwhelming pressure, cleaved through the thickened air.
Atmospheric pressure shifted in tandem with the slash, physically pushing the heat away, while the blade—imbued with his Will—sliced through the flames without hesitation. To be precise, it cut through the very heart of the fire.
Pop!
The sound of imploding air followed.
Whoosh.
The technique was the same as the one used to cut the walking fire. He didn't know if what his opponent used was a formal spell, but it didn't matter.
‘The source is the same. The principle is the same.’
Then all he had to do was cut it. Since it could be cut, he would cut it.
‘That thought just now was almost as obnoxious as something Ragna would say.’
It was the kind of logic that answered "just because" when asked how one could possibly slice through a miracle.
Still, the feeling wasn't bad. To harbor a thought as arrogant as Ragna’s meant he was finally thinking like a genius.
"Refreshing," Encrid remarked after completing the follow-through of his swing.
The tips of his hair sizzled from the flickering heat. Soot settled onto the ground, forming black smoke that was immediately crushed and scattered by the oppressive heat permeating the area.
To call air that made one gasp for breath "refreshing" was enough to make him seem like a madman.
There had been two fireballs; Audin blocked the other.
"Lord."
Clad in Holy Light, Audin smothered the flames with his own divinity. The white light flowing over his body enveloped the fire, crushing it into nothingness.
Even when discussing the extraordinary, these men performed monstrous feats as if they were mundane chores.
Perhaps that was exactly what it meant to be qualified to face a calamity sent from the heavens. Here stood individuals who, by their physical prowess alone, were calamities in their own right. They did not yield, even before the burning clouds in the sky.
‘Suppression, then,’ Encrid thought as he watched Audin extinguish the flames.
That fire cloud was a different entity from the Balrog, and its method of fighting was difficult to gauge.
How should they suppress it?
‘What is the most effective method?’
His deliberation didn't last long. Perhaps because he possessed Uske, Encrid’s thoughts converged on a single conclusion.
"A war of attrition."
They simply had to drain its strength until it was panting and wheezing. Even if that wasn't the final solution, it was time to gauge the opponent through engagement.
Therefore, it was a battle of stamina and endurance. The fire cloud shifted into a new shape—a quadrupedal form crouched low on four legs.
It looked like a dog, a wolf, or perhaps a lizard. Seeing that form brought a thought to mind.
Hadn't Temares said the heat ray that scorched the ground earlier was a tongue?
The image of the sky-beast panting with its tongue hanging out didn't seem particularly funny, even in his imagination.
Soon, several masses of flame fell from the sky with a heavy thud, rolling and wriggling on the ground as they took shape.
Two arms and two legs formed, with swords held in their hands. Should these be called Flame Knights?
Their bodies were made of pure fire, but their stances and the way they charged were distinctly human.
Pop!
The Flame Heteromorphs were ready to fight the moment they stood up. They lowered their stances to pounce. Just as they were about to kick off the ground, one of their heads exploded. A projectile had pierced through the flames and vanished.
Whether the will to move forward remained or not, the flames flickered and took a few staggering steps before collapsing.
Crumble.
Nothing remained but black ash scattered on the wind.
Whirrr.
At the very back, Rem, who was lightly spinning his sling, shrugged his shoulders.
"Can't we just crush them with force until they're exhausted?"
As expected, Rem was quick-witted.
"Exactly," Encrid agreed.
Temares was astonished by the resolution he felt from each of them. A Dragonkin being surprised happened less than five times in a lifetime, and this was already the second time today, following Encrid’s display.
Every single one of them possessed a level of Will with extraordinary purity. As they moved, that pure Will and light became visible to the Dragonkin’s eyes.
‘Still, that man is the most...’
Black hair and blue eyes.
The light emanating from Encrid was simply too vast to measure.
* * *
Seiki was not officially part of the Standing Army, but she had learned combat techniques by being taught a little by Encrid and a little by Audin.
Encrid knew her talent was exceptional, but he also knew she lacked ambition.
To someone whose goal was to live a leisurely life watching the stars in the mountains, martial arts were merely a secondary necessity.
Still, Seiki had done her own version of training. She had even learned techniques for handling divine power.
She was a Highlander, a person of the mountains, and since the mountains of the continent weren't filled only with friendly animals, it was natural for her to know how to fight. The grandfather who raised her had also lived by fighting through hunting and trapping.
"What is this all of a sudden!"
It started with a flame wolf approaching while she was idling about. Masses sculpted from fire came swarming down.
Seiki used every skill she had to fight and flee. She was lazy, but the skills she had learned kept her alive. She headed straight for the city. This wasn't a number she could handle alone.
"Fight!"
"Only magic weapons work!"
"Don't engage with normal weapons until they're blessed!"
At her destination, the Standing Army was already in the thick of battle against the fire constructs. Seiki joined them immediately.
‘There are too many of them.’
The Standing Army fought well. No one yielded. Those armed with magic weapons even overwhelmed the Flame Heteromorphs.
However, monsters presumed to be special individuals appeared here and there. They were the kind that ordinary soldiers could hardly handle.
‘Bipedal.’
Monsters that walked and ran on two legs. They were faster and stronger than the average construct.
Slam!
A fist struck a shield, causing the shieldman to falter and be pushed back.
"What the hell is this?" the shieldman muttered, gritting his teeth. The strength was dizzying. Could he hold out?
With a single blow, the shield—which had been treated with oil and dried in the shade—let out a creaking groan. The iron rim around the shield screeched.
If he hadn't had the shield just now, he felt like he wouldn't have survived the impact.
Threat constricted his heart, but he wasn't destined to fall.
Just as there were monsters beyond the norm on that side, there were also some on this side.
"Your training is lacking."
Would a monster made of fire understand the meaning of "training"? It probably couldn't even understand speech, but Pel said what he had to say regardless.
A single slash. The flames were split vertically and scattered. This was the power of the Idol Slayer.
His sword was specialized for cutting through the formless.
In the shieldman's eyes, he simply saw a line suddenly pass vertically through the fire monster's body.
The owner of the sword that killed the fire monster flicked his blade toward the air. The faint remnants of fire scattered into the wind and vanished.
The shieldman swallowed hard. As his shock faded, he saw the man standing before him.
The owner of the sword, a member of the Mad Knights.
The man who had saved his life spoke.
"Well? Am I not better than Ropode? In both looks and skill?"
The shieldman didn't dare shake his head. Wasn't this the person who had just saved his life?
Meanwhile, Ropode moved even more busily. A single line was drawn clearly in his mind. It was a line he could see with his eyes—a path telling him how to move most efficiently.
It was the now-matured technique of the Hawk's Eye. It was an art that harmonized sensitive senses, a wide field of vision, and the tactics he had learned through Luagarne. He sprinted across the battlefield.
‘Leave the small fry alone.’
He only struck the things ordinary soldiers couldn't handle. Running along the line connected by dots, he swung his sword.
Esther had imbued magic into the sword forged by the dwarf.
Clang!
Every time Ropode’s sword passed through a Flame Heteromorph, blue powder scattered into the air.
The strike he unleashed while planting his left foot and changing direction was a feat even the current Encrid would admire.
"As expected of Captain Ropode!"
He was respected by many soldiers, having been in charge of training the recruits.
He was different from Pel, who constantly nagged about training and discipline being paramount while hounding people with sparring and violence.
Of course, Pel’s methods worked on some soldiers, but they were the minority. Most tended to be won over by Ropode’s training style.
It depended on the soldier's personality, but the majority were on Ropode’s side. Of course, Pel had his supporters too.
For instance, the ten swordsmen under Ragna followed Pel more closely. This was despite the fact that they officially belonged to Ropode’s direct command.
In a way, it was a minor difference in preference, but what was certain was that Ropode was more popular.
"Ropode!"
"Running Ropode!"
Because he told them to run so often, he’d even earned a nickname like that.
The battlefield was vast. While these two were active on one side, the half-giant, the beastman, and Frok moved elsewhere.
Dunbakel ran while holding a spear and a sword—standard issue for soldiers—one in each hand.
Her sense of smell surpassed even that of an average beastman. Her nose instinctively sought out things that stimulated her.
"This'll do."
Wherever her spear and sword brushed past, the sound of breaking glass echoed repeatedly.
Then, the flame giants would crumble into snow-white ash.
It was due to the blessing Teresa had cast. Her divinity caused the flames to die out.
"Ooh, Smelly Dunbakel!"
Some of the soldiers let out a cheer.
"Sour-Smelling Dunbakel!"
"Won't you shut up? You want to die?"
It wasn't a nickname Dunbakel particularly wanted.
Teresa sang at the center of the Standing Army. Chants—hymns infused with divinity—became sacred power that seeped into the soldiers' weapons.
"Lord, wherever Your hand reaches—"
As the high notes erupted, a white light began to shimmer on the soldiers' weapons. This was the power of a chant that even Audin couldn't perform.
The soldiers, their courage bolstered a hundredfold, raised their swords and spears.
"Saintess Teresa!"
The real Saintess was Seiki, but the one actually called Saintess within the unit was Teresa.
It wasn't a nickname that matched a half-giant's appearance, but as if proving they weren't the Standing Army under the Order of Madness for nothing, they enjoyed giving out nicknames tinged with insanity.
Perhaps it was a reaction to being beaten senseless during their daily training.
Between the Sour Smell and the Saintess.
"Peerless Beauty Lua!"
Luagarne, who looked more like a frog to human eyes, puffed out her cheeks upon hearing her nickname.
It was because she couldn't help but laugh.
"What a bunch of madmen."
She spoke as she spun her Loop Sword around.
It was a technique she had created after watching Rem’s sling rotate.
She had wrapped thick leather straps around each of her knuckles and wore gloves reinforced with magic beast hide.
Whirring!
She swung the Loop Sword, which was fixed in place, rotating it at high speed.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The fire monsters caught in the rotating blade were scattered and blown away.
Her weapons were all magic weapons; they didn't even need a blessing.
For everyone, including the Standing Army, blocking the swarming masses of flame wasn't difficult.
The problem was that there seemed to be no end in sight.
Garret and Luagarne, who were pacing anxiously in the rear, knew they had to hold out like this for at least three days. Salamanders did not tire easily. The fire summons would continue to pour in for at least three days.
The two of them knew this. But then, something happened that defied their expectations.
"Hmm."
"Is it over?"
Such words naturally escaped the soldiers of the Standing Army.
After a surge of fire golems had swept through the ranks of fire beasts and monsters, their numbers began to dwindle. At some point, the numbers dropped significantly, and now, they had stopped entirely.
‘Enki.’
Luagarne instinctively felt that Encrid, who had gone into the mountains, had done something.
There was no other reason for the Salamander’s authority to be cut off. And her intuition was correct.