Forest Sasquatch (2)
015 Forest Sasquatch (2)
2022.05.03.
Class 5, dubbed the Limit Breaker for shattering and surpassing human limits.
A senior knight who had begun properly infusing mana into his weapon had ambushed a mere monster with great care, yet reaped little reward.
The scratches inflicted were far greater than the sasquatch expected only because Krout Salrim was so superior; against an ordinary Class 4 knight, it would have ended in futile effort.
The sasquatch boasted keen senses and nimble movements to that extent.
"Damn it!"
After a failed attack came the inevitable counterstrike.
The sasquatch, unscathed, swung its massive fist.
With a sound like a leather drum bursting, Krout flew backward and crashed into the ground.
Fortunately, the impact wasn't severe.
He had deliberately let himself be launched to avoid greater shock, knowing resistance would only worsen it.
But the ambush had failed utterly, leaving only tattered pride and a battle that had grown far more arduous.
As distance opened between them, the one-armed sasquatch bellowed, summoning its kin.
"Krwok! Krwoook!"
"Kwak! Kwakwaaak!"
Male sasquatches burst from hiding all around.
The operation had started poorly, but they couldn't stand idle like fools.
The waiting knights charged fiercely toward their preassigned targets.
"Hah!"
"Kraap!"
Each shouted their battle cry as they swung two-handed swords nearly two meters long.
Though they couldn't infuse mana into their blades, the heavy swings powered by enhanced physiques packed tremendous force.
Even against sasquatches four or five times their size, they held their ground without yielding.
But that lasted only a moment.
Equal forces meant either side could win—no surprise there.
If one gained the advantage, another fell into defense.
Yet no one side collapsed entirely, thanks to Krout's brilliant performance.
"Haaap!"
Thwack!
Krout's iron boot smashed into the one-armed sasquatch's face.
"Kwaaak!"
The one-armed sasquatch staggered from the blow.
In that instant, Krout used the recoil to lunge at another foe.
Slash! Spurt!
"Kyaaak!"
The one-eyed sasquatch, about to brain a fallen knight with a log, clutched its arm and screamed.
Its right wrist hung limp, tendons severed.
"T-Thank you, Captain!"
Regrettably, there was no time to finish it off.
Confirming his comrade was regaining senses, Krout hurled himself back at the one-armed sasquatch.
Leaving it be would force someone else into a 2-to-1 fight.
His comrades couldn't last a moment against that; only he might.
Krout grew anxious.
The plan was to neutralize the weakened one-armed sasquatch via ambush, then help comrades pick them off one by one while holding the strongest at bay.
But the ambush failed, leaving him unable to focus as he rescued endangered allies.
Most critically, one was missing.
Recon had counted eight sasquatches total.
Only seven were visible.
Unease crept up relentlessly.
Unable to endure it, Krout played his trump card.
The Blue Lion Knights' unique mana breathing method he had mastered allowed borrowing lightning's power briefly.
"Krhaap!"
With a shout, his muscles swelled as if about to burst.
Crackle-crackle-crackle—
Blue lightning coiled serpent-like around his blade.
Krout swung without hesitation at the one-armed sasquatch.
"Per Trua!"
Boom!
A thunderous roar worthy of its name, "Strike of Thunder," erupted.
Vast mana drained from his mana hole.
Despite profound fatigue, Krout smiled in satisfaction.
The one-armed sasquatch, slashed diagonally from shoulder to hip, spewed blood like a fountain as it collapsed.
"Just a bit more..., hm?"
The crisis didn't end there.
The last one, unseen until now.
A sasquatch with stark black stripes emerged slowly from the largest hut.
This five-meter behemoth showed no haste.
It calmly surveyed the chaotic battlefield.
"Kyaaak!"
Though its kin screamed and fell, the black-striped sasquatch assessed the field beyond petty skirmishes.
Unlike their kind, where the strongest led, these stinking humans often followed the weak.
Sure enough, a scrawny, pale-skinned one appeared.
A fairly strong human guarded it warily.
Instinct told it: kill or cripple that one, and these intruders would flee.
Like sasquatches protecting young, humans shielded this one.
The black-striped sasquatch leaped ten meters, scaled a tree, and shot across the battlefield like an arrow.
Its path ended at Calix Szczecin.
"Damn it all!"
Breath heaving after Strike of Thunder, Krout cursed involuntarily.
He'd dealt a mortal blow to the one-armed one, but no time to confirm.
Leave finishing to the soldiers; block that massive black-striped sasquatch first.
It shrewdly ignored all else, heading straight for Calix in the rear.
"You bastard!"
Krout roared and exploded forward.
The over-ten-meter gap closed in a flash.
Once more, his blue-lightning blade plummeted meteor-like upon the black-striped sasquatch.
Screeech—Boom!
Dust billowed with the explosion.
Obscured vision meant nothing; Krout sensed the foe via mana.
So did the black-striped sasquatch.
Animal instinct dodged the rear attack; its long arm whipped like a lash.
Thud!
The impact of flesh and earth boomed unbelievably loud.
Amid choking dust, black silhouettes clashed.
They exchanged furious blows at blinding speed.
Krout, matching the over-five-meter monster evenly, exemplified why Class 5 was the Limit Breaker.
But Calix clicked his tongue in complaint.
"Wasting mana like that, tsk tsk. That's why talented guys are so... And if you're gonna boom like that advertising 'I'm here,' why not just set a fire? At least the fight would be easier."
The knights' plan was this:
Krout ambushes and disables the weak one-armed sasquatch, then stalls the strongest.
Knights each take one of the rest; soldiers harass the elderly weaklings.
If successful, even leaving one knight with Calix would make it a smooth fight.
But the failed ambush forced regular soldiers to handle two sasquatches.
The critically wounded one-armed sasquatch remained a threat to mana-less troops.
Calix saw a young soldier trembling as he raised a short spear.
And the one-armed sasquatch's hairy arm hurling him away.
"Tsk!"
Seeing the boy fly meters into the brush, Calix sprang up with a tongue-click.
The knight silently guarding him intervened.
"My lord, it's dangerous. Stay away from me."
"You go handle the old sasquatch. The soldiers will all die like this."
He shook his head quietly.
"I cannot."
"Then you'll just let it be?"
"Just hold a bit longer..."
"Hold? Who's coming to help?"
"Uh..."
"Think rationally. If the soldiers break, you'll face two sasquatches at once. That puts me in greater danger. Right?"
Hesitation was evident.
Krout's order to never leave Calix versus the lord's command amid changing tides.
Which to obey? Confusion reigned.
Then, Calix's voice boomed with authority.
"Thomas! This is your lord's command. Will you defy it?"
The resonant words cleared Thomas's muddled mind.
He gripped his sword as if entranced.
'A knight's duty is to obey his lord. Whatever the chain of command, my loyalty is to Calix, next lord of Szczecin—not Senior Knight Krout.'
Krout would call it self-justification.
But watching comrades bleed while bound to guard felt wrong.
Given this excuse, he didn't hesitate.
"I obey, my lord!"
Thomas bellowed and charged the old sasquatch.
Calix glanced around.
All were focused on battle, ignoring him.
Now free, he slowly headed where the boy had flown.
Pushing through tall grass into the woods ten meters, he found the small fallen figure.
Checking the pulse at the neck, he sighed in relief.
No telling the damage, but not a corpse—at least.
He poured a low-grade potion from his pouch into the soldier's mouth.
The faint breathing steadied gradually.
Too early for relief, though.
His abdomen was bruised purple—likely internal bleeding.
If so, a low-grade potion was mere first aid.
He needed a proper healing mage soon, or at least a mid-grade potion.
But first, other business.
Calix quickly checked the trap Laila had set at his request.
Fortuitously, it was far more meticulous and neat than expected.
Of course; even she, mana-less, would struggle one-on-one with sasquatches.
Long training here honed her trap expertise inevitably.
What Calix requested was, strictly, an assassin's favorite.
She was the true originator.
And at last, his awaited guest arrived.
"Grrrrr!"
As expected, two: a red-maned sasquatch and a light-brown one, snarling fangs bared at him.
By village size and sasquatch habits, he figured some had left to hunt.
Goblin corpses dangled conspicuously from their waists.
"Hunting grounds were spot on. Owing Laila big today."
Calix muttered calmly, utterly devoid of crisis.
Two sasquatches needing Class 4 to match growled before this mana-inexperienced boy, yet he was nonchalant.
"Krwooooook!"
The red-maned one gaped wide, bellowing. Foul stench hit from ten meters; spittle flecked between yellowed teeth, dribbling down Calix's cheek.
A deep furrow formed between his emerald eyes.
Calix wiped his face with a handkerchief, grumbling.
"Filthy brat. Wash up before roaming."
His casual response belied trembling hands.
Even thrill-seeking Calix felt primal fear of death.
Facing a man-ripping behemoth bare-handed drained immense mental fortitude.
He gritted his teeth.
Knowledge and foresight couldn't solve everything by words alone.
This lawless world teemed with madmen charging first, negotiating over half-dead foes.
"Calculations are perfect. Odds of me getting scratched are negligible. If I can't conquer this fear now, I won't utter a word before future Master-level powerhouses. Overcome it, Calix!"
He bolstered courage via relentless self-suggestion.
This wasn't Earth, where keyboard taps from afar sufficed.
It was Eren Continent, demanding body-and-soul conquest for desires.