Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: 17. Sing, Play, and Dance (2)
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Adelia slashed with her sword in the midst of her charge, sliding to a halt and whipping around to look behind her.
Her disheveled hair whipped through the air before settling. Strands covered her face, and through them flashed eyes of different colors.
The bloodshot eyes overflowing with madness were the mark of [War Maniac],
and the gleaming yellow eyes reeking of slaughter were the mark of [Slaughterer].
"My God."
In this world shrouded in darkness, her goblin-fire eyes flickered wildly, drawing an involuntary groan from my lips.
To think that two horrifying traits had awakened at once.
Adelia charged at the Night Slayer once more.
The sword style she'd mastered cleaved through the giant's flesh and bones in a single stroke—a fierce slash that showed no hesitation even before the Night Slayer's overwhelming battle spirit.
There was no trace of her usual timid demeanor; every swing was bold, as if she were staking her life on it.
Golden sword light clashed endlessly against crimson aura.
After countless exchanges, Adelia staggered, her stance crumbling. The Night Slayer saw the opening and brought his blade down like a guillotine.
Bam!
My uncle stepped forward, deflecting the blow. Enraged, the Night Slayer roared and thrust his fist out. My uncle spun his sword, slicing into that fist.
Bam!
Battle spirit and aura collided, flashing brilliantly. A dazzling burst of light erupted.
A blade suddenly jutted out from between my uncle's armpit. It was Adelia.
The Night Slayer swung his sword fiercely and retreated. My uncle regulated his breathing and fell back as well.
"Where has the warrior's honor..."
Ambushed and double-teamed, the beast vented his frustration. But before his growl could finish, a black shadow clung to him.
Thud.
Adelia kicked off my uncle's shoulder and launched herself, bringing down a piercing slash.
Bam! Bam!
Fierce blows rained down from her slender frame, utterly mismatched to her build. The Night Slayer parried, blocked, and counterattacked while shouting,
"What barbaric behavior is this!"
To earn the label of "beast" from an orc was an achievement in its own right. Of course, Adelia couldn't care less about such things.
She was simply swinging and thrusting like a madwoman.
Kraaak!
The Night Slayer bellowed. He clearly despised this woman biting at him like a rabid dog. But it was less annoyance and more bewilderment.
Which made sense.
The Night Slayer's prized [Piercing Eyes] ability was useless against the [Slaughterer] trait.
A slaughterer simply hacked and chopped at whatever entered their sight. There was no room for lofty intent to interfere. Moreover, the [War Maniac] trait was a hard counter to the Night Slayer. Madmen didn't think during battle.
This monster, who hadn't yielded even to swordmasters, was now flailing against a mere sword expert woman.
Adelia pressed him relentlessly, her strikes ignoring defense altogether—like a suicidal frenzy.
A mad dog through and through.
Luckily, she hadn't latched onto me.
As I watched her rampage without room to intervene, my uncle approached.
"What in the world is wrong with that girl..."
A timid, kind woman suddenly going berserk had left him dumbfounded.
"Something like a berserker."
I gave a vague answer and signaled with my eyes.
Let's finish it together.
Screams and shouts still echoed nonstop from atop the walls. Ending this thing as quickly as possible was the way to minimize casualties. Now that it was flustered dealing with Adelia was our chance.
"Once you're ready, let's go."
My uncle, having fully caught his breath, gathered aura blade at his sword tip once more. I tightened my grip on Dusk.
The Night Slayer looked our way.
Despair flickered in its eyes. Regret for its own arrogance and haste was finally setting in.
But that lasted only a moment before it roared and shook its sword.
Bam!
With the explosion, Adelia was flung back. I dashed over and caught her.
"Eek!"
She struggled in my arms. But I held tight.
The Night Slayer's momentum was surging explosively.
Its murky green bulk had turned bright red in an instant. The ominous, threatening hue was proof it was pouring all the battle spirit it had dispersed for commanding its legion solely into its own body.
"Even if I can never stand before the king again."
Its low voice boomed.
"I will not let the king's majesty fade."
Its scarlet eyes glared straight at me. Adelia thrashed violently in my arms. Her soul, bound by [Subjugation's Poem], was reacting sharply to the malice and killing intent directed at me.
I glanced at my uncle while hugging her tight.
A nod.
He kicked off the ground. I released Adelia. Her wild eyes propelled her forward like an arrow loosed from a bowstring.
Golden sword glow and blue aura blade poured forth, met by surging blood-red battle spirit.
Watching them clash, I murmured softly,
Not mine originally, but now the feat belonged to me, embodied in my sword.
I recited the poem again.
The hatred for the orcs piled layer upon layer in Winter Castle through countless winters became the spark.
The rage of the rangers and soldiers locked in desperate struggle atop the walls became the fuel.
But before the spark could catch properly, an anomaly struck.
Whooooosh.
An overwhelming pressure that could scatter one's very existence crushed down on me.
From beyond the walls, from the mountains—a dominating aura. The Warlord.
It openly denied my existence, crushing my soul.
The blue flame flickered, on the verge of snuffing out.
"Hah!"
I shouted, boiling my ki upward.
The flame burst forth.
But the soul's blaze remained precarious, ready to die in the slightest breeze.
Damn it all. From mere orcs.
As I gritted my teeth, debating whether to unseal part of my soul,
"No, piling green corpses to raise a mountain."
A familiar voice cut in.
"Beneath it... a red pond forms."
The stumbling recitation of the soul poem came from my uncle.
"Uncle?"
His face was flushed beet red.
"Piling green corpses to raise a mountain."
He recited my poem again, awkwardly.
Hummm.
In that instant, the four rings within him spun, emitting a powerful resonance.
"Ah..."
That vibration rang in my ears like a drumbeat.
"Beneath it, a red pond forms."
Each line he recited made my heart pound.
"And I stand before it, honoring your soul."
A grand, powerful resonance—like thunderous drums.
Just then, someone atop the wall bellowed,
"Piling green corpses to raise a mountain!"
It was Vincent.
"Beneath it, a red pond forms!"
That was Arwen.
"And I stand before it, honoring your soul!"
An unknown knight.
They bellowed again.
"Ah..."
It was absurd. No knight in the world recited war poems like this.
Too crude for a poem, too rigid for a song.
Yes. If anything,
"Piling green corpses!"
"To raise a mountain!"
It was like a military anthem.
Disparate lines from scattered voices suddenly unified. Dozens of knights atop the walls were chanting the war poem at the top of their lungs.
Idiots.
Who in the world sang war poems like this? I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.
Yet their voices carried yearnings and grudges rivaling any true war poem.
Sharp bursts between lines, each triggering the unique vibration of mana rings.
Dum-dum-dum. Drumbeats echoed relentlessly in my ears.
My heart raced wildly.
Ziiing.
My head spun. Breath surged to the brink in an instant.
In that haze, I realized what I had to do.
Weave those fleeting yearnings and grudges into one,
unify those chaotic vibrations into a single resonance.
That was my task now.
I bellowed the poem with force.
Between lines, in the spaces I'd left empty, the rings' vibrations inserted themselves.
And at some point, the chaotic resonance began pulsing to a single rhythm.
A hallucinated song rang out. Majestic drums boomed in my mind. My sluggish heart began pounding fiercely again.
I stepped forward, murmuring low along with the song resounding in my head.
The extinguished flames reignited, fiercer than ever.
The Night Slayer looked at me.
Beyond its bulging eyes, blue flames gleamed.
Step by step.
I walked toward it.
My uncle glanced at me and retreated.
Grab.
"Kek."
I seized the nape of Adelia—who'd been thrashing oblivious to the situation—and tossed her to my uncle.
The Night Slayer gripped its sword hilt with both hands and whined from its throat.
No ferocity, no threat—just the whimper of a frightened pup.
Kraaaaa!
Suddenly, it roared. It swung its sword at me, brimming with dripping bloodlust battle spirit.
The blade fell to split my skull.
Swish.
I simply drew my sword.
In that instant, the world cleaved in two.
A blue line hung in the air, the Night Slayer caught in its midst.
Grulk.
It looked at its chest. Staring blankly at the path of the blue line, it turned to me.
"For the kin..."
Fwoooosh!
Its chest split open, flames erupting.
Blue fire devoured it in seconds.
At that exact moment, a boom and screams rang out.
"The gate's breached!"
I turned my head.
Far off, the shattered gate loomed. Winter Castle's heavy infantry stood in tight formation beyond it, with dozens of orc warriors visible behind.
I simply walked.
"Groooaaar!"
Its skin half-melted like it'd been doused in oil, the beast roared.
"Groooaaar... uh... huh?"
Its fierce cry cut short belatedly.
Spotting me, it hesitated and backed away. The others exchanged glances and turned.
But alas, too many orcs had been eagerly awaiting the gate's fall. Pushed by the surging masses, the orc warriors finally forced their way through.
I stood tall before them. Raised my sword.
In the deep night-dark world, blue flames illuminated everything—like the faint light of dawn settling over the land.
"Ready."
Turning at my uncle's voice, I saw heavily armored knights and infantry arrayed behind me. No sign of exhaustion from hours of brutal combat lingered on them.
The mana they'd kindled still burned vividly, resonating with my heartbeat.
This was a war poem.
"Ian."
My uncle gazed at me.
The Quad Chain knight, dozens of knights, and soldiers awaited only my word.
I faced forward again. Orcs terrified by the blue flames tangled and rioted before the gate.
I pointed my sword at the hellish scene.
"Charge."
A quiet command.
"Charge!"
Winter Castle's military spirit soared to the heavens.
Simultaneously, a golden flash plummeted into the orcs' midst. Adelia. A beat later, knights roared and charged.
I kicked off with them.
I plunged past the clashing golden light into the heart of the murky green wave.
"Gurk!"
An orc flew through the air, wreathed in blue flames.
"Kieeeek!"
Blood fountains sprayed. Severed heads and limbs scattered everywhere.
Rangers atop the walls sang the anthem, while below, swords and spears played life's dirge. Madmen danced with blades.
And I.
Pressed onward.
Cleaving the murky green tide.