Chapter 4
Chapter 4
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Grains of Red Light
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The moment the red grain was absorbed, a scene played out before my eyes, as if from a projector.
No sound could be heard. It was like a silent film.
Blond hair, black eyes. A handsome but youthful face.
Yes, that young face. The one I saw in the fleeting memories before I awoke as a slave.
And likely, this body's childhood.
An old man and his grandson wandered aimlessly from place to place.
The old man worried for the boy, but the child, still ignorant of the world, wore an expression of pure innocence.
The old man was clearly of the Heracles clan as well. His blond hair and black eyes were unmistakable.
A very short fragment of memory, surfacing as if replayed.
This brief memory played back as the red grain was absorbed.
What… the hell was that?
My mind grew more confused. What was the purpose of showing me this? Was I expected to do something?
More importantly, I was in the middle of a battle…!
***
*Whoosh-!*
The moment the vision ended, an orc's axe blade filled my sight. It was right in front of my nose. Close enough to take my head off in the blink of an eye.
In that brief moment, time hadn't stopped, but seemed to flow very, very slowly.
How tactless! Isn't it an unwritten rule for time to stop when you're having a flashback like that?!
“Damn it…!”
I deflected the side of the incoming axe with my forearm, changing its trajectory, and smashed the crowbar into the creature's temple.
Time returned to its normal speed.
Another red grain rose from the orc's corpse and was absorbed.
Kratos muttered in disbelief at the incomprehensible situation.
“Hah. Is this God of War? Or Prototype? The genre is all over the place.”
Why have so many baffling things happened since I ended up in this body?
Trying to avoid the red grains was useless.
They were absorbed automatically even if they didn't touch my body, just by being nearby.
And what was with this sudden memory? Of all times, it had to surface in the middle of a battle.
But I couldn't just stop moving.
I'd die.
There was no time to ponder or figure it out.
Why? Because I'd die.
It was a choice between two things: absorb the red grains, or stand still and get killed by an orc.
The answer was obvious, then.
It was baffling, but for now, I was satisfied just confirming that these red grains weren't harming my body.
I didn't feel any negative effects, like a sudden loss of strength or stamina.
And these grains were clearly visible only to me. Judging by how no one else gave a damn, that had to be it.
Right, what does it matter if I'm Kratos or Alex Mercer?
Well, maybe it's a bonus feature, like I grumbled about earlier. Something I never got in my second life.
The important thing is to survive here and now. I'll worry about it after I'm still alive.
In the middle of a war, not just a battle. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
Shouldn't avoiding the death right in front of me be the priority?
“Push the ladders! Knock them down!”
“Uwaaah-! Push together! Push!”
On one side, men were using long, U-shaped poles to push away the ladders.
As a ladder gave way, the orcs clinging to it fell and were turned into bloody pulp.
“Hold your positions! Slit their throats before they get up here!”
“Don't let the orcs get up! Don't fall back!”
But their shouts were in vain; countless orcs had already scaled the wall and were expanding their foothold.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the top of the wall was lost.
The problem was that the orcs' assault wasn't limited to just scaling the walls.
“To the gate! Everyone to the gate!”
“Bring timber! We need to reinforce the gate!”
“Knights to the front! Defend the gate!”
The orcs were relentlessly battering the gate with something resembling a battering ram.
Some of the soldiers and mercenaries below all rushed to that spot.
“Heh heh heh. What a shitshow.”
It was literally a complete mess.
Perhaps the Battle of Helm's Deep in *The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers* was like this. Of course, there were no Elven reinforcements, no Aragorn, no Gimli, and no Legolas here.
Nor a Gandalf to ride in at dawn on the fifth day.
“Damn it! Support the right flank! They've been completely breached!”
“Shit! We're having a hard enough time just breaking through here!”
But retreating wasn't an option. There was nowhere to retreat to, and I knew that only death awaited behind me.
And as someone once said, there can be no paradise at the end of a path of escape.
In that case, I have to break through.
“Uwaaaaaah-!”
Kratos let out a roar and just swung whatever he could get his hands on, again and again.
Doesn't look human? Green skin? There was no need to distinguish friend from foe. I just grabbed whatever was at hand and swung indiscriminately.
“Krwaaaaar-!”
An orc that looked to be at least mid-tier snorted and charged, but Kratos's fist dented its armor, and the crowbar in his other hand pierced straight through its neck, killing it instantly.
“Come on! Come on!”
As I stood there, drenched in the blood of their comrades and letting out a hollow laugh, even the supposedly ferocious and valiant orcs began to back away.
“Phuhuhu…”
A laugh escaped me. Unlike in the past, I didn't have to rack my brain to death just to survive.
Was there ever a time in my life when I wasn't tormented by the chaotic memories swirling in my head?
I was the type to overthink. I was always thinking, always remembering. And that, to me, was pain.
To forget that pain, I would read or watch anything I could get my hands on. In those moments, my entire mind was focused on absorbing something new.
But what good did it do? Once it was over, the memories would come back to torment me again.
“But this right now is amazing. Just amazing.”
Even as I stood there, the orcs charged endlessly. And of course, I endlessly gifted their skulls with my crowbar.
With every orc that fell, grains of red light were continuously absorbed.
“*Huu. Huu. Huu-*”
Heat radiated from my entire body like steam.
My muscles were swollen, taut as if they would burst at any moment, and wounds that surpassed my ability to regenerate were carved all over my body from reckless attacks.
“This is extreme. Truly extreme. Just like they say about 'Korean difficulty'.”
At some point, the crowbar I'd had since my escape had broken in half, and in my other hand, I held a shattered sword.
The area around me was already littered with corpses. Even the soldiers on my side flinched and tried to keep their distance when our eyes met.
And despite my rampage.
“Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!”
“Retreat to the inner castle! Retreat!”
It seemed the gate had been breached.
“Ah. I'm hungry…”
I was hungry. Very hungry.
***
“Who is that man?”
“From his appearance, he seems to be a mercenary. Likely not one under contract. His attire suggests as much. He seems to be a mercenary who just happened to be here.”
“How fortunate for us.”
At the highest point of the inner castle.
The Lord of the Castle and his knights, bearing the clear marks of battle, watched as Kratos retreated into the inner castle, saving the surviving soldiers and mercenaries.
He was a mercenary of insane skill. As if his rampage on the wall wasn't enough, the moment the retreat signal was given, he leaped down from the ramparts.
He was wiping out the monsters surrounding the isolated soldiers, saving them and the mercenaries as he slowly retreated. And from the very rear, no less.
All to save even one more soldier.
“I can't fathom how such monstrous strength comes from a body like that.”
“It's astonishing. Especially since he isn't properly armed and wears no armor.”
“It's a relief, nonetheless. Thanks to that mercenary, our losses were minimized. He should be rewarded.”
“I will summon him separately once things have settled.”
*Thud-*
Once all the soldiers had retreated, the gates of the inner castle were firmly shut.
The inner castle walls were three times higher than the outer walls. It was clear that breaching this place would take much more time.
But there was a limit to that as well. Holding out indefinitely without reinforcements was a distant hope.
“Any word from the capital?”
“…That is. Not yet…”
“I see.”
The Lord of Rzhev, Krain Rzhev, couldn't show his true feelings in front of his men and simply clenched his fist.
The Emperor had started acting strangely about ten years ago. To be precise, it started on the day the Empire was proclaimed.
From the very next day, he felt strongly that the Emperor had become a completely different person.
For that reason, Krain had gradually distanced himself from central politics, focusing all his efforts on defending against the Demonic Realm.
Furthermore, this attack had come at a completely unexpected moment.
This place had once again become the last bastion, and the few castles and villages that had served as their forward line were now in a situation where their survival was uncertain. It was right to assume they had been annihilated.
But there had been no emergency communications, no messengers, no signal fires? It was very strange.
*‘If he were still alive.’*
He was certain things would have been different. But that man had long since been framed as a traitor, his very name erased from history.
No, even his body was never found. They said evidence of treason was discovered, and after a summary execution, his body was torn to shreds and discarded.
All in a single day. Many who had been with him believed it couldn't be true.
But he was already dead, and evidence of his treason poured out like a flood.
“Hmph.”
The reality before him was too harsh to simply dwell on past memories.
“Strengthen the defenses. Double the number of sentries in each sector, and have the knights take turns standing watch. They will surely attack again soon.”
The castle's durability isn't infinite. And considering the orcs are organized enough to wear armor...
They might use ladders like they did at the outer wall, or perhaps even siege weapons.
What if they have shamans or mages?
The already low morale would surely plummet in an instant.
“The number of surviving soldiers and mercenaries is less than fifteen hundred. The orcs still number at least five thousand…”
“Release the reserve rations. One cannot fight on an empty stomach. Feed the soldiers and mercenaries until they are full.”
“Understood.”
It was going to be a long fight. A very long and drawn-out fight.
***
I was supposed to be heading to the capital, but what the hell is all this?
‘If this were a game, I'd be cursing out the developers for the insane difficulty.’
Kratos scratched at a bandaged wound that was starting to heal and itch, lost in thought as he tore into a chunk of meat with his teeth.
‘The grains of light didn't appear when I killed people, which means they only come from monsters? Why? Why only monsters?’
And I still didn't know their purpose. They were being absorbed, but I didn't feel like anything had particularly changed!
‘Tch. It would be great if they gave me a status window or something, like in other novels. It'd be so much easier to figure things out.’
I closed my eyes and recalled the memory. The excitement of the battle resurfaced at the same time, but I suppressed it as much as possible and focused solely on the memory.
‘I killed 126 orcs. Each orc dropped between four and six of those red grains.’
The total number of red light grains I absorbed was 658.
There was something else strange. I'm sure memory is explained by neuroscience with a bunch of headache-inducing terms.
So why is my memory perfectly intact even though my body has changed?
Does this body's brain have the same neuroscientific something-or-other?
I could vividly recall not only all my past memories but also every situation from the moment I first woke up in the slave cage until now.
And that memory that suddenly surfaced during the battle. It was definitely from this body's childhood.
The pre-death flashbacks, and now this memory. Is it just showing me residual memories because I took over this body?
If so, why did the memory surface after I absorbed the grains?
Recalling it again, I couldn't find any information in that memory.
It was just a brief moment, showing the old man and the younger version of this body against a blurry, out-of-focus background.
I decided to put these headache-inducing worries aside for now.
Anyway, it's a relief that my memory hasn't changed. And that past memory will surely surface again when the time is right.
Besides, it's not like knowing this body's past will change anything for me right now.
Ah! Survival comes first.
“So what? I'm hungry right now. Puhu.”
Before I knew it, only the bone was left. The meat wasn't particularly good.
It was just barely edible. Probably because it was cooked in a large batch, it was closer to well-done.
Personally, I prefer medium-rare. If not that, then medium-well.
‘Should I try chewing the bone? I feel like I could probably eat it.’
Still, I suppose I should be grateful to have filled my stomach at all in the middle of a war, but it's also true that it wasn't enough.
“Thank you. I'm alive because of you.”
As I swallowed the last piece of meat and looked around, feeling unsatisfied, someone approached and handed me a potato.
Probably one of the soldiers I saved.
“Well, for that. I'll gratefully accept.”
“Take this too.”
“And this. It's a generous payment for saving a life.”
Starting with that soldier, a dozen or so others gave me a little of their own rations.
Some offered thanks, others as a way of asking for my help. It was a battle where no one knew what the next moment would bring.
It was a kind of superstition, a small hope they clung to, and I understood that well enough, so I accepted it all and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing.
I'd need strength for the next battle, after all.
“Mercenary. The lord summons you.”
At the word 'lord', Kratos got up and followed the knight. Being summoned in a situation like this was unlikely to be a bad thing.
‘Is the lord still that same person?’
Krain Rzhev. The knight and noble to whom I had granted a castle. A man with a will as unbending as bamboo.
“Ah.”
At the highest point of the castle. Entering the command room, Kratos let out a short exclamation.
‘He's gotten old.’
He was certainly different from my memory of him. In my last memory, Krain didn't have white hair or deep wrinkles.
But the man before him was unmistakably Krain Rzhev.
“Greetings to the Lord of Rzhev. I am Kratos, a wandering mercenary.”
But I was not my past self now. I was only Kratos the mercenary.
“Hmm.”
Krain Rzhev turned his gaze from the strategy board, looking surprised at the mercenary's polished greeting.
With the right clothes, his etiquette and appearance were fine enough to pass for a nobleman.
But for such monstrous strength to come from that body… It was simply incomprehensible.
“I saw your great deeds. Thanks to you, many soldiers' lives were saved. Is there anything you need?”
Things I need. There were many. But right now, there was only one thing I needed.
“I need a weapon. A very sturdy one. An axe or a hammer would be good. If not, then a mace. Anything that can crush the skulls of those orc bastards.”
If I hold a hammer, I'm Thor. If I hold an axe, Kratos? Either was fine. Weapons like that suited this body better than a sword.
“A hammer or an axe, you say.”
Krain pondered for a moment, then nodded.
He recalled a report about an unmanageable weapon.
“As it happens, we have just the thing. Adjutant. Bring that one out for this mercenary.”
“Sir? You mean *that* one?”
“Yes. It seems perfectly suited for this mercenary. That way, he can send at least one more of those orc bastards to hell.”
What in the world was this weapon to cause such a reaction?
A moment later, the adjutant and several soldiers came out, straining as they carried a single weapon.
Holy shit. I'm in love.
“It's a weapon made of solid black iron. One side is a hammer, the other an axe. We didn't make it; we acquired it. It seems it was used by a rather formidable orc.”
Weapons made of black iron are heavy. Heaviness aside, no one could use such an ambiguous weapon. The handle was an awkward length, and with an axe on one side and a hammer on the other...
No wonder it was considered unmanageable. Unless you were a dwarf, an orc, or some similar species, you wouldn't even dream of using it.
In this castle of Rzhev, am I not the only one who can use it? The strength of the Heracles species is just that ridiculously powerful.
“I absolutely love it.”
It was the perfect weapon for crushing the skulls of the orcs targeting Rzhev Castle.
***
“They're on the move!”
As the orcs reformed their ranks, stomping their feet and preparing for battle, an urgent cry came from the castle wall.
The creatures didn't look tired at all.
No, if anything, they were letting out more ferocious cries and ragged breaths than when the battle first began.
*Bwooooooo-!*
“Prepare for battle! Everyone to your positions!”
“They're coming! Everyone get ready!”
With the sound of a great horn, the legion of thousands of orcs began to move once more, intent on wiping out the humans.