Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: If You Want to Rise in the World, Enter the Tiger's Den (3)
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Strike while the iron is hot, and when you want to butcher the enemy army, the textbook move is to press them relentlessly the moment they show weakness.
"Archers and mages, blast those fuckers standing there with their spears at the ready—give 'em one good shot!"
At his words, the archers unleashed a barrage of arrows over our heads.
Lucia and the other mages hid behind the spearmen, chanting their strongest spells as they waited for the right moment.
In the midst of it all, Dalton dragged the vice-captain over and stuck right by my side.
"You're moving with me and Heinz this time. After we take out those black bear bastards up front."
Dalton pointed at the fluttering blue flag in the distance.
"We might not get the count's or the viscount's heads, but we gotta hack away at their mid-tier knights and high-tier knights like it's open season—make that count bastard sweat, right?"
I'd handled Hans, who was just a low-tier knight, with some room to spare, but what kind of power did these mid-tier knights and above—proper knights—really have?
In this game, some mid-tier knights could wield Aura freely, pulling off superhuman moves at will.
And from high-tier on up, Aura Experts weren't exactly rare.
If I clashed with those guys, leveled up my strength and skills, and built my reputation bit by bit... how far could I climb?
"This time, even if it's just some freshly minted mid-tier knight, if I don't take a knight's head, I ain't human."
"If you don't, you cutting off your balls?"
Hey, if you're born a man, you've gotta have that to call yourself one. Losing it... that's a bit much.
"...Uh, well, that's..."
"You dumb fuck, all talk when it's your neck on the line, but won't stake your dick."
Dalton swung his sword in a signal, and moments later, our unit's mages hurled their spells at the enemy.
Five Fireballs streaked through the air.
The blazing orbs engulfed the poor bastards up front in an instant, turning them into human torches.
"Help! Somebody help! Arghhh, fuck, it's hot!"
"Arghhh!"
"Save me! Water! Water! Someone douse me with water!"
The moment the obstruction in front of us turned to charred husks, Dalton slapped my back and shot forward like an arrow, channeling Aura into his feet.
To be precise, he kicked off the ground and leaped ahead.
When a man outruns a horse, that's flying.
I wanted to dive right in too, but my job now was to lead my squad of ten and smash into those enemy pricks blocking the way.
Put crudely, ram these thick, sharp spear shafts into their necks and make the blood spray.
"Martin Squad! Spears up high and thrust! Fuck, think of the whore money you cheats skimmed off me and shove 'em in! No limp-dick spear-waving idiots here, right?"
"None, sir!"
"Squad, form up! And match my pace—move!"
With that, I gripped my spear tight and stabbed at the necks of the bastards right in front of me.
"You horny pig bastard."
"I ain't that fat, you old fuck."
A quick glance around—every guy in my squad had plunged into the enemy lines without a single casualty.
I tossed the spear aside and drew my sword.
The sharp metallic ring as it cleared the sheath sharpened my focus.
"Fuck, you scarecrows are weaker than shit! Come on, let's see who's tougher—you or me! Martin Squad—no, whole damn mercenary company—follow Captain Dalton charging up ahead!"
Whether we break through the enemy lines here or put on a show to boost our morale and crush theirs, we gotta do something right.
All or nothing. Jackpot or bust.
In a spot like this, my one job is to fire up the White Beard Mercenary Corps' morale and momentum to max.
Before charging out, I called over Platoon Leader Walter.
"Platoon Leader, sir—mind watching my green-ass kids? They can't wipe their own yet."
I'll cover them as best I can, but as the battle heats up, I'll have less slack, so hand 'em off proper.
With my piece said, the ragtag mob I'd baited swarmed around me.
Bearded fuckers clutching short spears, swords, maces, hammers, axes—every damn weapon under the sun.
Fuck, surrounded by these hairy apes... feels like shit.
Of course, these gentlemen trying to kill me probably felt the same.
"Fuck, you're that shameless Martin Meyer from the White Beard Mercs, huh?"
"Can't see your mug under that helmet—take it off. If you're pretty, maybe I'll spare ya."
"Orphaned fuck. We'll send you to your folks—suck daddy's dick and mommy's tit together."
With that, they raised their weapons and charged at me like rats spotting cheese.
"I look that tasty, you pervs?!"
Couldn't back off with friendlies at my rear.
So I stepped forward—one step, no, like Dalton, surging ahead.
Fuck, I'd talked big to survive, so now fight like I'm ready to die.
Eyes like a hawk spotting sloppy gaps, I started lopping heads one by one.
Each enemy soldier I dropped sent a clear jolt through my hands.
And with every kill, I pushed deeper into their lines.
"You limp-dick sons of bitches! If you're gonna swarm me to kill, at least scratch the great Martin, huh? Buncha pathetic shits."
Feeling Aura flow through me, I spun it inside once more.
Was it this world's rule—kill to grow—that aided me? My Aura felt noticeably stronger than yesterday.
Aura Expert, my lofty goal, was far off, but I could sense breaking through one more wall soon.
Every slash that felled another brought certainty and thrill—I'd grow stronger.
Fuck, this is sex.
Strictly speaking, no—but the rush rivaled a man and woman fucking.
"White Beard Mercenary Squad Leader Martin Meyer, coming through! Any bastard wanna check out early, block my path!"
With that, I set my goal: link up with Captain Dalton, cutting down any obstacles without hesitation.
Spear thrust at me? Duck or twist aside, ride the momentum to gut 'em whole.
Veterans with maces or one-handers? Slip inside their guard, punch holes in their throats.
Early on, I tallied kills while carving through, but now no time—the pace was brutal.
Even Dalton couldn't solo the enemy horde forever, no matter how strong.
"Squad Leader Martin, fuck! To your side!"
I dodged sideways—that Baker fuck I'd ragged on nonstop smashed the enemy's skull with his mace.
Wrong angle there, and I'd be dead.
We'd come into the tiger's den knowing death lurked.
But facing it chilled my spine.
"Thanks, Baker!"
"Buy me roast beef after we win and get back."
"Fuck, if we live, I'll buy enough roast beef to bury you. Happy, asshole?!"
Quick banter done, with my mercenaries' backup, I pressed forward.
Each head I took amplified their fear of me.
This moment, I felt like I owned the battlefield—shivers racing through me.
"Fuck off, you shitty pricks! Don't block my way—or get out if you wanna live!"
Swing one, two, three—hacking wildly—and suddenly I was near Dalton.
He saw me and smirked.
"Fuckin' punk, timed it just like Heinz. How the hell you still alive?"
"Too young to die a virgin."
"Bullshit. Ain't no man saving his virginity—gets moldy, you mutt."
I caught my breath and eyed ahead.
Our count's soldiers and knights ground their teeth, closing in on us.
"For insulting the honorable Count Philoran, pay with your lives, you filthy, lowborn mercenary dogs!"