Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: General? (2)
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Rattle, rattle.
The soldiers' bodies trembled.
Their eyes glazed over hazily as they stared into the distance.
Thud.
An old man shook a soldier's body, gripped by fear, with all his strength.
"Get a grip. Or you'll die."
The soldier snapped out of his terror at the voice.
"Father..."
The old man called "father" pulled the soldier behind him and pressed close to the wall.
"Stay behind me. It's dangerous."
Before they knew it, the old men had taken positions at the forefront of the wall.
Their bodies trembled too, but their eyes burned with fierce resolve.
"The closer the undead get, the stronger the fear will be. If you can't snap out of it, bite your lip."
"...Pardon?"
"Pain will drive the fear away, if only for a moment."
The terrified soldiers' gazes turned to the backs of the old men standing before them.
Stooped backs.
Shoulders shrunken with age.
But they didn't look small at all.
The backs of their fathers from childhood.
Those backs were exactly the same as back then.
"We'll need to light the arrows soon. Get ready."
"...Does fire work on undead?"
The old man shook his head weakly.
"It's to light up the battlefield."
The closer the undead drew, the more intensely the soldiers trembled.
Countless skeletons.
The deathly aura they exuded was far too overwhelming for ordinary people to endure.
Rattle, rattle.
"Are you scared?"
"..."
Terror flooded the soldier's eyes once more.
The fear of death overwhelmed his entire body.
Stroke—
The old man gently stroked the soldier's back.
"If you're afraid, just look at your father's back."
A short phrase.
That single phrase and the small back blocked the undead from the soldier's view.
In that instant, massive flames streaked across the darkness from the center of the wall.
Boom—
Flash—
Skeletons hidden in the shadows shattered, illuminating the surroundings.
Flames blazed, lighting up the hordes of undead.
The soldiers' bodies stiffened at the sight they'd never witnessed before.
How could they win against so many undead?
"Load arrows!"
A booming voice echoed across the entire wall.
Click—
The old men's arms drew back flaming arrows.
"Fire!"
With the command, flaming arrows soared, brightening spots across the battlefield.
It was a horrifying sight of undead packed densely everywhere.
"Gasp...!"
"W-We... we're gonna die...!"
"Monsters...!"
"Snap out of it, you fools!"
The soldiers' bodies were shaken by the old men's hands.
Some were slapped across the cheeks, while others had old men nicking their children's skin with small daggers.
"It's time to fight now!"
"Grab your spears!"
Could they even fight like this?
The old men's faces darkened at the scene they'd expected.
They gripped their spears with grim expressions and pressed close to the wall.
Even the young soldiers with strong wills followed behind them.
"T-They're... coming...! Battle stations!"
The tension wasn't building only there.
At the center of the wall.
Parmon and Closel looked down below.
"Ramon, there are too few mages. We need to conserve mana. We have to prepare for the other undead."
No one knew how long the battle would last.
Closel looked at Parmon with a hardened face.
"I know. This can't be all of them, so it's only natural. More importantly... no word from the holy knights yet?"
"None."
Parmon and Closel's faces twisted.
They'd said they'd join after a quick scout.
So why no contact yet?
Closel let out a groan.
"They might not come at all. You saw their attitude."
"..."
"They won't be much help against specters and banshees."
"Can't be helped."
Parmon turned his attention back to the gate.
The mages had hastily reinforced it, but it looked far too fragile.
It could collapse any moment.
A breached gate meant defeat in the siege.
"Knights, aid the soldiers. Remember—fight while defending."
"Lord Parmon...?"
The knights' eyes widened.
Not because of the order.
Parmon, clad only in thin clothes, was walking forward.
"No need to worry about arrows. They'll pass between the bones."
Parmon opened his mouth again to emphasize.
"Don't fear the undead's arrows either. Without a nearby necromancer, they can't shoot."
His steps quickened.
"The gate's weak."
With those final words, Parmon leaped from the wall.
His body soared into the air.
Parmon crashed to the ground with a massive thud.
Thud—
How many could leap from a city wall with a human body and survive?
But it didn't apply to Parmon.
All eyes on the wall locked onto his sudden action.
Shing—
A chilling sound as the sword was drawn.
Slash—
When had he swung?
A blue aura blade sliced the heads off skeletons approaching the gate.
Slice—
Slash—
With every sword movement, heads separated and rolled across the ground.
Parmon's movements were unhindered.
Weaving through skeletons, his ghostly swordsmanship severed heads too fast to follow.
Only the blue aura flashed.
Skeletons climbed along the wall.
Light weight, immense strength.
The wall's height was no obstacle for tireless skeletons.
"Ugh... aaah!!"
A soldier whose legs tangled, tripping him, flailed his arms and retreated.
Having faced a skull head-on, the soldier was half-mad.
As the skeleton lunged at him.
Crack—
The skeleton's head shattered and fell from the wall.
It was the old man's spear thrust.
"You have to smash the head like this to kill them."
The spear stabbed toward another skeleton's chest.
The blade scraped between the ribs and burrowed in.
Scrape—
"...If it doesn't work, just push it back."
A perfect stance with weight evenly distributed.
The old man pushed, sending the skeleton tumbling off the wall.
"Haa... haa..."
How long had the battle raged?
It hadn't been long, that much was sure.
But his aged body was already weary.
Boom boom boom—
Explosions roared.
The sound of the Sword Master fighting at the gate.
He'd heard the name.
Klaus Parmon.
The hero who led the continental war to victory.
Even so, it had nothing to do with an old commoner.
Nobles' swords didn't come this far to save peasants.
Knights and nobles protected the weak? He'd never seen it.
Fortunately, the Sword Master's blade was shattering even the skeletons climbing the wall.
Without that, the wall might have fallen already.
"Get up and fight."
The old man pulled a young soldier to his feet and quickly scanned the surroundings.
Blood was already flowing from the old man's leg.
"...I didn't even notice when I got hurt."
He slapped the still-dazed youth's cheek and moved urgently.
Because a skeleton was approaching.
"Tch...!"
The skeleton's sword blocked by his spear.
Even blocking one was a struggle.
He no longer felt the strength of his youth.
No one around to help.
The old man barely held off the skeleton and turned his head.
"..."
What entered his eyes was his son.
Fighting admirably.
Just like himself in his youth.
If he survived, so would his son.
This child was no longer just someone to shield his back.
A faint smile formed—only for another skeleton to lunge.
Scrape—
"Gasp...!"
Was this the end?
The old man turned one last time to look at his son.
If only he could leave a final word...
A sword flew, blocking his tall son's back from view.
Filling his vision.
Clang—
Crack—
"...?"
Slice—
"Help the soldiers!"
"...A knight?"
A knight blocked the old man's path.
Knights had suddenly filled the surroundings.
"The wall's end is buckling! Everyone, move!"
It happened in an instant.
Armored knights swept past, sweeping away skeletons.
"Th-Thank you...!"
"You look unfit for combat."
The knight's eyes scanned the old man's side.
"Wounded, fall back."
Arrogant demeanor.
But to the old man, it was a welcome sight.
This was the first time knights pleased him.
Seeing the knights charge, the old man gripped his spear.
His side stung—he must have taken another wound.
"Heh... I'll have to fight with everything I've got."
The old man ran along the wall.
Toward his son.
"Father!! Why haven't you fallen back yet...!"
"Son, don't worry about me—watch the front."
"Whoa...!"
His son's combat was impressive even on second look.
The fear had vanished from his face.
Was blood truly like this?
He felt no regret raising generation after generation as soldiers.
"You're the spitting image of me."
Crack—
Strength surged through the old man's body.
His weary form suddenly brimmed with youthful valor.
When his son created an opening, the old man's spear struck without fail.
A complete reversal from the battle's start.
Among the soldiers around, they were undoubtedly the best.
Their breaths synced without words.
A single glance conveyed everything.
Crunch—
At this rate, they could hold against any undead horde.
That's what the son thought.
Until he saw the blood flowing from his father's side.
"F-Father! Blood from your body...!"
It wasn't just his side and leg.
His whole body was covered in wounds.
Deflecting incoming blades and creating openings, he finally saw.
How his father had helped him.
Another wound appeared on his father's body as he thrust his spear into the opening.
That wound had kept him safe, if only for a moment.
"N-No... N...!"
A silent scream escaped.
The injuries were too severe.
He needed treatment immediately, or it would be dire.
Was this the price of losing focus in war?
The son's eyes widened.
From behind his father ahead, a blade pierced through his stomach.
"F-Father...!"
"Don't get distracted."
The old man remained steadfast.
Even as he weakly slumped to the ground, his eyes faced forward.
Now, toward his son ahead, no longer behind.
"Good thing you're not behind my back anymore."
The ground rushed closer.
Even as he collapsed, the old man swung his spear.
With his dying strength.