Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Melee (6)
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War and duels are different.
Unlike a duel, which is fought honorably with one's reputation on the line, war is war, plain and simple.
In a battle of many against many, honor is nothing more than an empty echo resounding in the air.
The moment Sir Valentis fell, the imperial forces charged like a storm, as if they had been waiting for this exact instant.
The sword I swung with all my might was blocked by a soldier's wooden shield.
At the same time, a tearing sound ripped through my arm muscles. My stamina was already depleted.
Even swinging my sword once more felt like an impossible burden.
Kwachik.
"Guhk...?!"
The sound of bones breaking. I had only paused for a moment, but immediately a spear plunged into my side.
The sensation of a heavy lump of metal stabbing into my flank was far more agonizing than I could have imagined.
My lungs were torn, making even breathing excruciating. To put it in words, every breath felt like vomiting blood instead of air.
I glared at the soldier who had pierced my side with his spear. I could see the man flinch under my gaze.
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
With a beastly roar, my sword flashed like lightning, severing the soldier's head in an instant.
That became the last strike I ever swung. My body refused to muster any strength.
And no hunter simply watches a weakened beast with wide eyes.
The imperial soldiers closed in on me as I dropped to my knees, using swords, hammers, and even spears to ensure they severed my last breath.
Far from improving after my victory over Valentis, the situation had only worsened.
It seemed this damned Defeat Regression reset based on the very moment of victory.
In other words...
It was regressing from the point when I defeated Valentis in single combat.
I never could have imagined things getting even worse from here.
But regrettably, there's always bedrock beneath the floor.
My severed breath returned to life once more. This time, I opened my eyes in the thick of the battlefield.
"Everyone, charge at once!!"
"Waaaaah!"
"What the fuck."
The moment my eyes opened, soldiers' war cries filled my ears. I spat a curse and swung my sword.
After just a few swings, my breathing was already growing ragged.
How many have I killed? Ten? That's all I managed?
Even that number had grown only through repeating death and gaining experience. At first, I could barely take down three.
The stamina drain from the duel with Valentis was a problem, but this was war, not a duel.
While facing one enemy in front, my sides and back were left exposed. They seized those openings to strike.
And since I wasn't an Aura User, every attack was lethal.
What about my allies, then?
"Uwaaaak!!"
"S-Spare me!"
"Not a single useful bastard among them."
Compared to the elite, well-trained imperial troops, my soldiers were little more than rural guards from a backwater territory.
Over half were forcibly conscripted serfs, just to fill the ranks.
Naturally, they stood no chance against the empire's elites and were swept away like leaves in the autumn wind.
"Kuhk!!!"
I vomited a gush of dark red blood. I could see the sword protruding from my chest.
Attacked from behind again. At first, I could hold my own somewhat.
But as the fight dragged on, my stamina and focus waned, making it hard to endure to the end.
Individual soldiers weren't much.
Compared to Valentis, they were definitely easier. The problem was their numbers—easily over a thousand.
And behind them were even mages.
Thanks to that, the pathetic force of a hundred I had conscripted couldn't even flee.
Roar!!
A fireball from the sky incinerated them all in an instant. The horrific stench of burning flesh and skin assaulted my nose.
"Huff, huff."
My breaths, rising to my chin, had been warning me for a while that my body had reached its limit.
But stopping meant death.
I thrashed desperately to escape death's grasp, forcing my exhausted body to move.
"Kraaak!"
Somehow.
"Aaaak!"
One more.
My breaths were gradually lengthening. My stamina, which had hit its limit so quickly before, was undeniably increasing, if only by a little.
How many had I killed?
How much time had passed?
Before I knew it, the soldiers had surrounded me while keeping a considerable distance.
I didn't know why, but it created an opening. If I could just rest a bit...
"Damn it, over a hundred dead to just one man."
"Don't approach that monster anymore! Respond with bows and crossbows!!"
"Ah."
I had forgotten.
Bows and crossbows. The basic armaments that come to mind in medieval warfare.
But in the frenzy of dying and killing by sword, I hadn't even registered their presence.
I tried desperately to close the distance, but it was already too late.
The sky filled once more with a rain of steel.
Puk! Pook!!
Countless arrows pierced my body like tofu. I could clearly feel life draining from the punctured wounds.
"......"
Even moving hurt. But I gritted my teeth and forced my body onward.
Like a broken wooden puppet, my limbs creaked. I poured strength into the pierced joints and muscles.
Thanks to that, my arms and legs twisted grotesquely, but it was enough to sever the neck of one nearby soldier.
"H-He's still alive!"
"Impossible! Even in that state, he's still breathing?!"
"That... surprising, is it? You fucking bastards?"
Kwachik. Kooduduk.
My grotesquely twisted arm couldn't withstand the strain and tore clean off.
Yet even with one arm gone and unable to wield my sword any longer, I kept glaring at them to the end.
Was it the overwhelming killing intent? The soldiers began backing away one by one.
"W-What are you doing?! Cut off his breath right now!"
"B-But..."
"That monster's at his limit now. Think he can swing a sword in that condition? If you get it, go finish him off properly!!"
The man who had taken command in Valentis's place bellowed, and only then did the soldiers creep forward and thrust their weapons into me.
Puk.
Puk.
The chill of metal burrowing into flesh. That was the last sensation I felt.
In that life, at least.
I opened my eyes again without fail. The clamor of the battlefield, the advancing imperial soldiers.
At first, their momentum had overwhelmed me. But now, it was familiar.
I drew my sword. I didn't know how many more times I'd die.
But I knew exactly what I had to do.
Somehow.
One more.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Exaggerating the enemy's prowess on the battlefield is surprisingly common. Partly to claim merits,
but overwhelmingly more often to cover up mistakes that should never have happened.
Sir Valentis's adjutant was a case in point. The empire's invasion of Arpen had to proceed with utmost speed above all else.
That way, they could annex it smoothly before the kingdom alliance could intervene.
[Show His Majesty's dignity to the world, but if they surrender, accept it graciously. They will become His Majesty's subjects.]
The main imperial force raced straight for the capital, while detachments were assigned to seize territories.
It was a highly risky method, but it had the advantage of rapid conquest.
Yet things went awry from the very start. According to imperial intelligence, Blackguard Territory was just another rural backwater.
The information wasn't entirely wrong. At best, it was filled with small fry.
All but one.
The lord of Blackguard Territory.
Cain Blackguard.
Except for him.
In truth, proclaiming him a mid-tier Sword Expert was an attempt to salvage the situation.
Mages weren't fools. They could easily discern one's level up to Expert.
To them, Cain Blackguard wasn't even an Expert— not even a Sword User.
There wasn't the slightest hint of mana circulation.
Sir Valentis couldn't lose even if he tried.
Yet something impossible had happened, as if the sky itself had fallen.
Naturally, responsibility fell to Valentis's adjutant and the mages.
'I don't know how he won, but if we report it as a knight of the same realm, we can cover it up somehow.'
That's why they had shouted it out loud. So that if investigators came later,
the soldiers would all testify the same. Even elite imperial troops
couldn't distinguish Expert level without full mana activation.
Yes.
We could fix this.
That's what they thought.
But the very moment they issued the order, something absurd occurred.
A flash.
Cain Blackguard moved at a speed the eye couldn't follow, severing five soldiers' heads in an instant.
And that wasn't the end.
He wove through the soldiers alone, swinging his sword relentlessly.
Impossible.
How could someone who wasn't even an Aura User display such prowess?
"A-Already over a hundred down!"
"Quick, next plan... Aaak!!"
"K-Keep your distance!! Engage with arrows! Do not approach!"
It was the best option in the current situation. Though the enemy didn't stay still.
At the cost of dozens more lives, they finally created distance and encircled him. Archers nocked arrows.
No matter how skilled, without Aura, he couldn't dodge this.
Soon, a merciless rain of steel poured from the sky onto Cain Blackguard.
It's over.
No way he survives this.
Everyone present must have thought so. But even then,
Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!!
The adjutant snapped to his senses at the clamor of metal clashing. What just happened?
"B-Big trouble!"
"W-What is it? We can take that monster with arrows..."
"Arrows aren't working!! He's batting them away with his sword and killing our men!!"
The adjutant's eyes widened like saucers at the shocking report. What nonsense...!
But the sight that met his wandering eyes was unbelievable.
A single man deflecting the arrow storm from the sky with his sword.
Cain Blackguard.
The lord of Blackguard Territory, an unremarkable rural noble.
That was the imperial intelligence assessment.
'Bullshit. How the hell is that a "normal rural noble"?!'
But there was no time for shock. Over two hundred soldiers lay dead already.
Losing more here would be irreparable. The decision came swiftly.
Horns and drums blared. The soldiers withdrew as if on cue.
"Retreat! Retreat!!!"
The Battle of Blackguard.
Later known by that name, this battle marked the first—small but undeniably precious—victory against the empire in kingdom history.