Vesta's Unyielding Edge
Vesta chose to act decisively rather than call Ushun’s name or merely worry about her.
He had to steal the creature’s attention.
—creeeak—
The screech of metal slicing through air sliced straight into his ears. As Vesta swung his blade and closed in, the scarab swung its half-broken body to look back, crushing Ushun between its jaws.
It was a power that defied all reason.
“Die, you damn bug!”
Believing Vesta’s gaze had locked onto it, Ushun clamped her jaw on the scarab’s underbite and drove her knee upward with a powerful thrust.
Crack—
The impact of Ushun’s bull-like thighs, layered with the hardness of steel armor, delivered a force that could crush a human skull to pulp. The scarab couldn’t ignore the blow.
It tried to fling her away as though she had been stung by its own venom.
“Tch—!”
But Ushun was stubborn as a woman. Even dangling from the creature’s jaw, she raised her fist.
Her punch smashed into the scarab’s face with a sharp klick.
The scarab hurled her backward and retreated. Ushun rocketed straight toward Vesta.
“Ugh.”
If the tribe’s famous wrestler was telling the truth, then in full armor she executed a perfect falling technique.
Vesta, watching, muttered.
“It’s a good thing you’re on sand.”
“Hah, don’t you dare hold back.”
“I don’t want to get flattened.”
Ushun snorted and rose to her feet. Both warriors locked eyes on the scarab and slammed their fists together in a test of strength.
“Here we go again.”
“Yes.”
Elves from the caravan rushed in, spears raised.
They swept over Vesta with a glance, then pulled the item strapped to his back free.
I don’t exactly like it…
It was a shield—too large for someone who had yet to fully grow.
He gripped his sword in one hand and the shield in the other.
Seeing him, Ushun said, “You look like an Imperial general.”
Vesta chuckled.
“A general fighting on the side of fairies? That’s suicide.”
The banter ended. The scarab, jaws clicking into place, shifted tactics.
Elves lifted their spears.
“On—!”
At the same moment Ushun opened her mouth, the creature arrived.
“—da!”
BOOM!
A sandstorm erupted. Spear shafts snapped. Fairies were hurled skyward. Ushun rocketed straight at its torso.
“I’m excited to wrestle its bug legs—!”
The sound wasn’t flesh striking flesh but steel meeting steel.
Ushun seized the scarab’s legs and twisted with every ounce of her strength.
Crack—
The thin limbs twisted unnaturally.
Kyek.
The creature instinctively unfurled its wing casings. Gears whirred as the wings thrashed. But in its ruined state, flight was impossible.
“Can’t fly anymore, huh? Time to get cozy with the ground. I’ll help you!”
Shouting, Ushun swung her club. The twisted leg folded at a grotesque angle—completely snapped.
The scarab flicked its jaw like a blade, a speed that left even skilled swordsmen breathless.
“Ugh.”
Ushun’s body twisted mid-air and was launched skyward.
At that instant Vesta had already slipped into the creature’s flank.
He drove his sword deep into the gap between its legs.
Kirak—!
The counter was unnaturally fast.
Are those antennae?
The scarab swung its jaw toward him.
Vesta raised the shield, intending to deflect rather than take the blow—his arm would shatter otherwise.
BOOM!
Grind.
Even with the shield raised, the strain was crushing. He had struck even the hardest central boss rivet, yet the force still registered. Vesta kept swinging, sword slicing through the air.
Clang—!
“Crazy bastard.”
A curse unlike his usual ones. Not the sound of normal insect exoskeletons.
Of course. Ordinary armor couldn’t withstand this body!
Instead of bones, it had thick muscle layered around its core. The true source of its brutal power lay in that dense inner core.
Thud—!
Vesta’s face twisted. The scarab began pressing down with jaw strength, driving the shield into the ground.
Vesta’s arm and shoulder screamed. His legs trembled. The moment he accepted the full weight, he would be pulverized.
His brain burned so hot it felt ready to burst, then slammed cold in an instant.
Endorphins and combat hormones flooded his system.
That’s the voice of death.
Whoosh.
Vesta drew a deep breath, eyes blazing.
Slung—
He slid his shield aside and twisted his body. One moment of missed timing and the descending jaw would have crushed him to death.
He wasn’t betting his life—just balancing the scales.
Got away.
Vesta succeeded in slipping free. He now stood beneath the scarab’s jaw. His special eyes scanned the pitch-black exoskeleton.
Between the plates, a thin seam.
Seeing it, he extended the blade tip and followed the motion with judgment that turned observation into action.
Puuk.
He had every right to keep his sword even from that position.
He lacked the power to cleave armor, but if there was any gap, he could thrust with certainty.
Vesta planted his blade in the scarab’s neck and prepared to drive it deep.
Click.
“What?”
The scarab lowered its jaw, sealing the seam. Enormous strength sucked at his sword. It didn’t budge an inch.
Just as Vesta was about to discard the blade and pull back—
A steady voice cut through.
“If I had known this would happen, I shouldn’t have wasted the spirit arrowheads. He really is bigger than I thought!”
Her voice carried to every corner of the battlefield, bringing an absurd sense of relief.
“Let’s string it!”
Let’s string the arrow. A line that sounded like nonsense.
Yet it was nothing more than Ushun repeating Ahor’s strategy.
The seam in the exoskeleton cannot inflict meaningful damage.
Pin down the legs first, then have the archers focus fire on the primary target.
Primary target?
The antennae. The creature’s true eyes. Sever them all and it becomes just another beast.
Even as an elf, can we disable the antennae with arrows?
Ahor’s confident reply came instantly.
Yes. We will string the crescent arrow.
The crescent.
It referred to the distinctive arrowhead shaped like a half-moon or new moon.
Not for piercing, but for clean cutting.
“Tilt the crescent—!”
She didn’t say “draw” or “load.” She simply meant to angle the new-moon arrowhead.
“Then I’ll hold it in place.”
Instead of slipping away, Vesta gripped his sword tighter.
“How does it feel having a blade pressed against your neck?”
If even a millimeter opened the neck joint, his sword would pierce straight through.
So what he was holding was fear of death itself.
Thud. Thud.
Someone was charging. Vesta assumed it was Ushun.
Piiing.
With the sound of wind slicing through silver moonlight, the antennae were severed.
The scarab rose.
Gaps appeared at once.
Vesta thrust with all his might.
Shallow.
Too bad.
If he had been taller, if his arms had been longer, he could have driven it deeper.
But Vesta was still too small.
“You little runt!”
The runt, huh.
Ushun hurled her body beneath the scarab’s belly, wrapping Vesta in her arms. Her massive frame swallowed him whole.
Whoosh—
Sand and dust swirled from the scarab’s thrashing.
*
“It’s not over yet.”
She was right.
Neither had fallen, so no one could declare victory.
It was the truth for Vesta.
Of course, Vesta replied, rising.
*
When Vesta stood, the scarab was no longer above him.
Far away, writhing in agony after losing one antenna, it thrashed.
Vesta rotated his sore wrist.
The shield had vanished into the sand.
He aimed the sword and settled into stance. The scarab tilted its head toward the direction of the remaining antenna and searched for Vesta.
Click.
It snapped its jaws wide open. No other living creature could survive such a vicious bite.
“Ah, one is left.”
Only four legs remained. Speed would suffer.
The creature flicked a leg—
—toward Vesta—
BOOM!
“I thought you were finished—!”
It was Ushun. A woman so sturdy that even the scarab’s jaw couldn’t break her—stronger than steel.
The master. Tamugai Ushun.
“VESTA!”
Hearing the call, Vesta moved. His posture was nothing but forward swing, defense abandoned.
She would pin it. She would—
Vesta stepped onto Ushun’s thigh and climbed onto her trusted shoulder.
Now beneath his feet lay the scarab’s compound eyes.
If the eyes were like any ordinary beast’s, they would have been wide open.
Among the countless blades he had swung that day, Vesta drew the sharpest line.
Thud.
The last antenna cleanly severed.
Kieeerrrreeee—
Vesta tumbled, Ushun was flung back.
But Ushun did not fall. She scooped Vesta up and retreated, leaving the scarab untouched.
She thrust one arm skyward.
Piiiiiiiiing—
The sharp whistle of an arrow loosed from the signaler.
“You can’t hear it, can you?”
Piiiiiiiiing—
The reply came. The signaler had answered.
“The sound of the falcon approaching.”
Ushun turned her gaze.
“Beasts that cannot hear that sound on the prairie cannot survive.”
At that moment, figures appeared on the dune crest.
A small falcon with a cold expression facing the world, and behind her the caravan mercenary company—soon to be the Cameltauoros warriors.
The desert conquerors summoned by the Khan.