Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Elite Swordsman
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"Enemy!"
In one swift dash, I'd flanked them, and several conscripts positioned at their rear let out screams like death shrieks.
Before they could even turn around and figure out what to do, I was right in front of them, swinging my Two-Hander with everything I had. Armor be damned—I aimed to cleave them in two with a single blow. To shatter the conscripts' morale in one hit and overwhelm them with our smaller numbers, I needed a massive, visible strike like this.
Kwaduduk!
The Two-Hander, as long as a man's body, split the conscript from collarbone to chest in an instant, bursting out through his opposite flank. Crimson blood and entrails exploded out in a spray. The enemy soldiers' eyes widened in horror at the sight.
"Monster!"
A monster now, was I? But even I was honestly shocked by the swing. Human bones are tougher than you'd think—swords don't slice through them easily.
Plus, these were conscripts, but they were still wearing gambesons. Yet I'd torn right through the gambeson and bisected the man.
"Waaaaah!"
Whatever the case, the result was perfect. After a moment of stunned silence, the mercenaries cheered, while the enemies' morale visibly plummeted. Especially for these pathetic conscript serfs who hadn't even seen proper training.
"Aaaack! Don't push!"
"Get forward!"
Those trying to flee tangled with those pushing ahead, throwing their entire formation into chaos.
"Any who want to die, come at me all at once!"
Like a lion leaping into a flock of sheep. I plunged into the panicked conscripts, swinging my blade wildly. Those who got caught—even if not fully sliced—clutched the struck spots and collapsed. Those who were cleaved screamed and sprayed blood, further crushing the others' spirits.
The initial fear I'd felt was gone without a trace. Watching the soldiers scatter like terrified sheep, I felt a thrill of exhilaration.
Was this the sensation of true power I'd never known before? My hands trembled with the intensity of it as I roared at the soldiers staring at me in terror.
"Who's gonna come at me? Who's begging to die?!"
Words I'd have been too embarrassed to say normally flowed naturally from my chest and burst from my lips.
"Anyone blocking my path dies!"
"Uwaaa..."
One soldier who met my eyes lost strength in his legs, dropping his weapon and collapsing to the ground.
"Aaaack!"
"Spare me!"
The poorly stitched gambesons ripped with tearing sounds as I rampaged wildly. In the end, the conscripts scattered in all directions, pushed back by the mercenaries and me. All that remained were the elite soldiers up front, being trampled by the knights.
"You bastard!"
"Die!"
A few soldiers spotted me and thrust their spears. Deadly stabs, honed through thousands of practice reps. Spears are fearsome weapons—one well-trained spearman can take three swordsmen, or so they say.
But I was at the peak of excitement after rampaging through the conscripts. I made a bold choice.
With just a slight twist of my body, I dodged the spear and lunged forward instead.
"What?"
I heard the soldier's panicked voice, but it was his last words.
Kwaduduk!
The greatsword swung in an instant, smashing the soldier's helmeted head and embedding his neck into his torso.
Even a simple overhead smash—its sheer weight and my strength crumpled the iron helmet and pulverized his skull. The headless body staggered, then flopped to the dirt.
"Simson! Fuck! Where the hell did this monster come from?!"
The soldiers watching in horror swung their spears wildly, but I took the light jabs on my body and batted away the precise ones with my blade, charging right into their midst.
"Come on! I'll kill you all!"
A touch of bravado, courage, and exhilaration. It was a beastly brawl. Fighting on pure instinct and reflexes like an animal. That's why they couldn't stop me.
Who could've predicted I'd close the distance so fast on spearmen meant to control space? If I were in my right mind, I wouldn't have broken through that thicket of spearheads aimed at me either.
"Out of the way! I'll handle him!"
A swordsman stepped forward from the enemies too scared to charge. Not quite a full man-at-arms in heavy plate, but solidly armed in iron gear. He approached, swinging his sword around.
"Don't know where a punk like you crawled from... but to an Elite Swordsman like me, you just look like a greenhorn. Kahaha! In front of an 'Elite Swordsman' like me!"
The man brimmed with pride in his title. He repeated "Elite Swordsman" twice, spinning his blade. Light yet steady steps like a predator's prowl, sword tip unwavering despite the flourishes.
Strange guy, but I got what an Elite Swordsman was now. That's the level you needed to qualify. I gripped my sword again, awkwardly recreating stances from my past life's dramas.
"Where'd you pick up that swordplay? Or is this your first time holding one? Your stance is a mess."
Pick up? Well, yeah... but it was from dramas. His harsh critique stung a bit, but I stayed composed and studied the soldier facing me.
Left foot forward, sword resting over his shoulder, constantly jiggling. That wavering tip was oddly irritating to watch—then he closed the gap in a flash and swung.
Stepping forward with his right foot, thrusting his left out, the sword leaning on his right shoulder whipped out ferociously.
Kang! Shukakak!
The Elite Swordsman's blade was sharp and heavy, like a tiger's paw. And his assault didn't end with the first miss.
Left foot, then right. He pressed relentlessly, chaining swings while guarding vitals with arm and blade.
Blocking the furious barrage, I found myself being pushed back before I knew it. A few onlookers sighed at our duel.
This helpless feeling after so long. Pushed back despite my overwhelming physical specs—what a pathetic sight.
"Kuh!"
"Kahaha! Thought you were some hotshot, but you're just a brute swinging on muscle!"
Infuriating, but he was right. Strength, agility—every stat outclassed his. But shoddy armor, poor technique, and lack of combat experience left me flailing.
"Bro!"
Cutter rushed in to help, but I waved him off. My swing radius was too wide—he'd get killed by my own blade. And soon, he didn't need to anyway.
Shwaak—Puk!
"Krgh!?"
The soldier paused mid-assault, looking down in disbelief. A lance had pierced his iron armor effortlessly, bursting out his back through his chest. A knight's lance, several meters long by the look.
"No... way..."
Clang!
He dropped his sword, clutching the lance protruding from his chest. Pain and incredulity twisted his face as he crumpled.
"What the..."
I stared in shock at the anticlimactic end, scanning around. A knight's lance—had to be friendly.
"Commander Lady?"
In the direction the lance came from, the Commander Lady rode her steel destrier in resplendent armor, gazing our way. And the distance between us was over 150 meters. Sure, I'd nailed a horse at a few hundred meters with a javelin earlier, but this was different.
Lances are way heavier than javelins. And that slender frame—how did she hurl something that massive with piercing power over hundreds of meters into an armored soldier?
"......"
I met her eyes, then hurriedly bowed my head. She had helped me, and she was nobility far above my station. No way I'd risk her punishing a commoner like me after the battle for not showing respect.
"Waaaaah!"
"Follow the Commander!"
The steel warhorses crushed and scattered the soldiers, boosting our troops' morale further. The enemy main force was shattering. Far off, the Count's knights were belatedly charging out, but by the time they arrived, Lenia and the knights would have wheeled around to the main camp.
"Prepare to turn! Prepare to turn!"
As Lenia glanced around, deeming the enemy sufficiently crushed and readying to wheel her horse, she spotted the mercenaries fiercely battling at the enemy main force's rear—and that man. A smile crept onto her face unbidden.