The Giant Still Breathes
Booooom—!
A shattering roar that shook the earth itself rang out, and for a single instant, the battle froze.
"……."
"……."
Soldiers who had been frantically hurling stones, men who had been hauling cauldrons of boiling oil—all of them stood staring blankly at the sight before them.
A wall some ten meters high.
And rising above it, the upper body of a giant.
The creature had gone still.
It had frozen in the exact posture of bringing its massive club down upon the wall—like a statue.
Four pairs of fierce, bulging eyes. Those pupils still burned as if they might devour the soldiers at any moment—yet it was not long before the corners of those eyes began to tremble.
"Ugh… ah…"
A low voice leaked from that enormous maw.
And then—
Crack. Snap!
A sound like thick ropes snapping rang out.
Shhhhhhhhk—!
The giant's chest split wide open, and blood erupted like a fountain.
That was the end.
"It's going down!"
"It's falling!"
The giant, arms still raised, seemed to tilt slowly backward—then toppled over completely.
Thuuud—!
As that massive body crashed down, the demons crushed beneath it screamed.
Kieeeek!
Kaak! Kak!
How many had been crushed underneath?
No one knew. No one counted. They simply stood there, drenched in the giant's blood, staring at the fallen colossus with dazed eyes.
To the soldiers, it looked less like reality and more like a scene from myth. Even seeing it with their own eyes, it took another beat for their minds to catch up.
And then, a massive surge of dopamine and adrenaline exploded through them.
As if on cue, Viscount Hadion's voice thundered across the battlefield.
"Even a giant—! Cannot stop us—! Fight, all of you! Kill the enemy, survive to the end, and return to your families—!"
"Waaaaaaaah—!"
"Kiiiiiill them!"
The soldiers' roar shook heaven and earth.
The soldiers of Palhaon were not idle either.
"Valhallaaaaaaa—!"
"Valhallaaaaaaa—!"
The battle was only just beginning.
The most troublesome of their enemies—the giant—had fallen, yet the ferocity of the battle did not abate in the slightest.
"Kill them!"
"Don't leave a single one alive!"
"Rocks! We need rocks! Are there any left?!"
The soldiers poured stones and boiling oil down upon the demons surging at the base of the wall. Demons that had charged in high spirits had their skulls cracked open and their flesh blistered in an instant, reduced to corpses on the spot.
It was a reasonably smooth defense—except that there were simply too many demons.
Kieeeek!
Kek! Keeek!
They came without end, and the bodies piled ever higher beneath the wall. A few of them used those corpses as stepping stones and leapt up onto the battlements themselves.
"Aaagh! Demons over here—!"
"Tom! Tom's dead!"
"Hold them back!"
The knights directed the soldiers even as they scrambled to cut down the demons that had made it onto the wall. It was a clash so fierce that two bodies apiece would not have been enough.
And yet the busiest of all were Priest James and Bishop Philos.
"Lord! Your servant beseeches You—grant us Your blessing—!"
"I pray, let Your grace descend upon this place!"
The two priests hurried back and forth along the wall, healing the wounded and pouring holy magic into zones where the demons clustered thickest. With every flash of light, soldiers' wounds closed and demons melted away screaming. At that miraculous sight, the men raised cheers of their own.
"God is with us!"
"Do not fall back!"
The performance of Paloren, the mage of Hadion's domain, was no less impressive. An earth mage by trade, he held the main gate where the demons pressed hardest—and every time his spell completed, enormous boulders plummeted from the empty air with thunderous crashes. Large-class demons crumpled with their skulls shattered each time.
Such was the intensity of the fighting. Soldiers hurled stones until the feeling left their hands, and swung spear and sword with the deaths of their comrades as fuel.
Through it all, Viscount Hadion watched the battlefield with cold, clear eyes.
It was then that the old knight Rockton approached him.
"My lord."
"Has Young Master Khtun arrived?"
"He has been moved to a secure location. The priests have exhausted their holy power and are resting. Young Master Khtun is supporting the Palhaon side with his undead while he himself stands ready before the main gate."
"So his mana has not been completely depleted?"
"No, my lord. That is what I was told."
"……Good."
Viscount Hadion felt a quiet surge of relief. Paloren was holding the gate for now—but there was no telling when it might be breached. If it came to that, Khtun would surely prove a decisive force.
"Tell Young Master Khtun I entrust the gate to him. And how stand the other sections?"
"Hard-pressed, but holding well. Bishop Philos and Priest James have been invaluable."
Demons left corpses when they died—and those corpses stacked and stacked until they became a ramp for scaling the wall. But whenever Philos and James took the field, the dead never had time to pile up. Melting a corpse required far less holy power than dealing with a living demon.
"Furthermore……"
Old Knight Rockton reported everything else he had observed while moving along the wall—which sections were thinly defended, which were holding easily.
Listening to it all, Viscount Hadion found himself newly grateful for Palhaon—or more precisely, for Khtun's reinforcements.
This was a battle we could never have endured alone.
Especially the giant. The colossus he had witnessed with his own two eyes was a being so powerful that a proper siege defense could not even be established against it. Even without the lesser demons, victory against that monster would have been far from certain.
And yet Khtun had not only felled the giant in a single blow—he was still supporting the battle with his undead.
They called him a genius……
During the territorial war, he had seemed little more than an ordinary greenhorn. In a matter of mere months, he had become an entirely different person. Improving relations with Palhaon, even this late, was nothing short of a blessing.
And that was not all. Every one of Palhaon's soldiers was an elite in his own right. There was much to be thankful for.
But—
The battle is not over yet.
Viscount Hadion steeled himself. Their most powerful enemy, the giant, had fallen—yet the demons' assault remained ferocious.
"……That concludes my report."
"Very well. Then I must ask you to work a little longer. If we manage this well…… we may yet come through this battle safely."
"Yes, my lord."
Hope had begun to touch the faces of Viscount Hadion and Old Knight Rockton alike.
And then—
"Wh-what—!"
"Wh-what is that?!"
Cries of horror erupted from the soldiers near the main gate. So panicked were they that even in the thick of combat, the whole sector stirred and seethed. Naturally, the gazes of the Viscount and Rockton swung that way—and at once, both men understood the cause of the chaos.
"Mm."
"Heavens……"
Viscount Hadion and Old Knight Rockton alike let out low groans.
There, beneath the wall—
A massive body was twitching.
"Grrrk, grrk—!"
It was breathing, blood-flecked foam bubbling with every breath.
The giant was alive!
The moment he grasped that fact, Viscount Hadion descended from the watchtower. Old Knight Rockton and his aides followed close behind.
"My lord."
"We can talk later."
Viscount Hadion cut Rockton short and climbed onto the wall. A lesser demon sprang up, using a shallow pile of corpses as a foothold—but the Viscount cut it down with a single stroke and fixed his eyes on the giant.
There was no doubt.
It is not…… dead.
A chest split wide open. For any ordinary human, that wound would have been fatal beyond question—yet the giant was still breathing, however faintly. More than that: its hand was twitching, as if it might regain consciousness at any moment.
What to do?
The Viscount's mind raced.
Simply stand and watch it rise?
No. That was unacceptable.
If the giant gets back up…… the damage will be irreversible.
Someone would have to go down there and finish it off. But who?
"Sir Rockton—bring Young Master Khtun."
"Yes."
Rockton kicked off at once and sprinted away. Not long after, he returned with Khtun slung over his shoulder like a sack of goods.
"You're here. The situation is not good."
"The situation…… ah."
Khtun started to ask something, then immediately understood the Viscount's meaning. He had seen it too—the giant thrashing and twitching below like something in a seizure.
How had this happened?
The answer came not long after.
……I underestimated it. The mana was enough, but the body couldn't hold.
Damn.
A disaster. He had used the Valhalla Skeleton because he hadn't known how his mana reserves would hold—and that, of all things, had been the problem. Considering how much of his own mana still remained, he could not shake the thought that he had been careless.
Khtun's face twisted—and it was then that Viscount Hadion spoke.
"Can you do it once more?"
"……It would be difficult."
"I see."
Viscount Hadion nodded as if he had expected as much. Then he started walking somewhere.
"Come with me."
"……?"
The place the Viscount led them to was a secluded alley at the base of the wall, out of the soldiers' sight. Once they arrived, the Viscount gave Rockton an order.
"Summon the knights. Men prepared to die. And bring me a set of armor from the keep—one of the suits I used to wear."
"……Yes."
After Rockton left, Viscount Hadion looked at Khtun.
"Could you summon a skeleton for me?"
"……May I ask why, my lord?"
"Don't ask. Just do this for me."
"Yes."
Khtun produced a skeleton.
"This should…… do."
It was then that the Viscount began unfastening his own armor piece by piece.
"Give me a hand."
"……Yes."
By now, Khtun understood the Viscount's intent. He had resolved himself to die. And he meant to use the skeleton so that, should he fall killing the giant, the soldiers' morale would not collapse.
Once he had stripped off every piece of armor, the Viscount said flatly:
"Put it on the skeleton."
"……."
Khtun said nothing and dressed the skeleton in the Viscount's armor. Being nothing but bone, it looked a little awkward at first—but after some adjusting here and there, the result was surprisingly convincing. Once the helmet went on last of all, it was the spitting image of Viscount Hadion.
Some time passed.
Rockton returned with four knights.
"My lord—we have arrived."
"Give me the armor."
"Yes."
The suit the Viscount put on was more ornate than a common knight's, yet crude compared to the one he had been wearing. Once he was fully armed, he pulled the helmet down over his head.
"You may have heard on the way—the giant is not dead. Someone must kill it. And so I mean to kill it myself. Will you come with me?"
The knights nodded without a moment's hesitation.
"Yes. Leave it to us."
"Please—allow us to accompany you."
"Good. That is reassuring."
Having secured their firm assent, the Viscount looked at Khtun.
"Young Master Khtun—set that skeleton atop the watchtower in my place. Where every soldier can see it."
"And the command—who will take command?"
"I leave that to you. Sir Rockton will assist."
"My lord……! This old man should go with you as well……!"
"No. If you are gone too, the command structure will falter."
Having said that, the Viscount started walking as if there were nothing more to hear.
"Let us go. Young Master Khtun—I am counting on you."
Khtun watched him for a long moment, then finally nodded. There was nothing he could say. Instead, he thought about what he himself could do in this moment.
And so, a short while later—
The skeleton disguised as Viscount Hadion climbed the watchtower, with Rockton standing guard at its side.
Khtun mounted the wall.
"Open the gates—!"
"Open the gates—!"
The main gate swung open, and five knights on ironclad warhorses charged out onto the field.
Old Knight Rockton, eyes bloodshot, roared at the top of his lungs.
"Do not falter! Our…… our knights will crush the giant! Continue the battle, all of you—!"
His heart ached as if it might spit blood.