Chapter 22
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Riding the Momentum (3)
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“Damn it, what the hell is this situation?”
In the dim secret passage, illuminated only by the flickering torchlight, one knight muttered under his breath.
It galled him to think that by now, the detachment force had infiltrated the enemy camp and was racking up achievements.
“Well, it’s not so bad. At least we won’t get hit by stray arrows.”
“Keuk. True enough.”
They were sprawled on the ground, chatting idly to pass the time. It was the only way to endure the boredom in this ant-free void.
Not a single one of them imagined an enemy appearing here.
Laughter echoed through the empty cave.
Shiiik! Puk!
“Gahk!”
That was when it happened. An arrow sliced through the air and lodged in a knight’s throat.
“E-enemy! Everyone, quickly…!”
“If you’re going to stand guard, do it properly.”
The man who seemed to be the commander shouted swiftly, but a mocking voice rang out as his throat was pierced, cutting him off mid-sentence.
The other knights’ throats were run through one after another.
“Arghhh!”
The fight ended with pathetic ease.
The knights, who had relaxed and doffed their armor, collapsed as corpses without even putting up a proper struggle.
“No injuries, right?”
“Of course not, sir.”
Clay shook the blood from his sword and surveyed his steadying companions.
As expected of Sword Experts and above, they had fulfilled their roles without needing explicit orders.
‘Gelvin especially—that guy’s a real monster.’
Gelvin had taken down three out of the twelve knights single-handedly.
The Ribina family’s Heavenly Dominating Sword lived up to its fame: domineering and flawless.
‘His realm is below Byan’s…’
He might lag in current skill, but his talent could surpass Byan’s.
It was clear he’d soon stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Eaton.
“According to intel, two knights are guarding the exit. I’ll handle one; Liam, take the other with your bow.”
“Understood.”
The knight called Liam responded immediately to Clay’s words.
Unlike before, they now followed Clay’s orders without question.
From capturing Count Povet to the fight just moments ago, Clay had led from the front.
Such actions proved he wasn’t all talk.
No fool who’d seen his skill would nitpick further.
“Alright, let’s move out quickly! The main force might already be at the enemy camp—hurry!”
“Understood!”
* * *
Rakmes Ridge.
Spotting the Kainzel Kingdom army’s camp atop the ridgeline, the Talua Kingdom knights pressed the retreating Kainzel forces even harder.
“The enemy’s main camp is in sight! No slacking—advance steadily!”
Tedric Eaton bellowed, cleaving down a charging soldier.
The battle had raged for over six hours, and his breath was growing labored.
‘Can’t let my guard down. Per the Duke’s words, they haven’t even truly attacked yet.’
They’d finally reached the high ground.
Now at the enemy’s desired spot, the foes would strike in earnest.
“Hahaha! Even the famed Tedric Eaton is done for! Leading your troops straight into the grave like an idiot!”
A man who appeared to be the Kainzel commander bellowed.
At his signal, hidden Kainzel soldiers emerged from both flanks.
“Fire!”
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang!
A storm of arrows and spells rained down like fierce rain from the Kainzel lines.
“Raise shields to block arrows and hold formation! Mages, counter their spells!”
They had anticipated this, so countermeasures came easily. The Talua forces formed a defensive line without panic.
They endured the impacts on shields and barriers, advancing like turtles. Numerically superior but disadvantaged by terrain, progress was tough.
“You fools! Too late to escape now!”
The Kainzel commander taunted, but Tedric ignored him.
No—he’s eyes gleamed quietly.
‘All according to plan so far.’
Everything was unfolding as predicted.
If Clay succeeded, they just needed to hold until he disrupted the enemy camp. The foes would crumble on their own.
For now, wait silently for the moment.
* * *
‘What the hell is that guy?’
Philip couldn’t hide his bewilderment watching Clay dash ahead.
‘No matter how I think about it, this is weird.’
He got that Clay, a Sword User, wielded Sword Expert-level skill.
Unbelievable, but he’d seen it with his own eyes—no room for doubt.
But this? It defied understanding.
‘How can he move like that?’
Having exited the secret passage, the group now traversed a dense forest.
Visibility blocked by thick trees.
Yet Clay charged ahead without hesitation, as if the path were lit.
That alone wouldn’t surprise.
“East, 100 meters—scout patrol approaching. Evade and proceed.”
“This side’s lightly guarded. Follow me.”
Pinpointing enemy positions flawlessly and bypassing combat seamlessly.
Impossible by common sense.
Only one wasn’t fazed: Gelvin trailed Clay calmly, as if it were natural.
[Hey, hey. Your lip’s twitching. Control your expression?]
‘Ahem, ahem.’
Clay couldn’t ignore the scorching stares.
Having never felt such gazes, his mouth itched to grin.
[Showing off with my abilities. Be grateful you met me!]
Gransesia teased curtly.
But she didn’t dismiss him.
‘His adaptation speed is insane. His talent?]
Having power and wielding it masterfully were different. Many squandered talent.
Clay adapted swiftly, optimizing every ability for himself.
‘…Maybe I’m the lucky one too.’
Now, she felt fortunate Clay had gained the Eye of Simosa.
He might uncover why her soul was trapped there.
So, Gransesia resolved to aid him fully.
[Demon energy detected! South-southeast, 3 kilometers!]
‘Thanks!’
Clay ducked behind a tree, scouting the now-visible enemy camp.
As expected, few soldiers and knights remained in the Kainzel camp.
“Right flank has the fewest. Draw eyes there, then breach fast. Liam!”
“Yes!”
At Clay’s shout, Liam loosed a flaming arrow at the camp tents.
Whiiiish! Fwoosh!
“F-fire!”
Flames rode the wind, spreading instantly.
As fire erupted, all eyes snapped there.
“Charge!”
Clay slipped through an unseen path.
‘The demon’s likely near the Kainzel commander.’
This campaign’s Kainzel supreme commander was a prince.
Third Prince Wolfran.
A contender for the throne, no small fry.
Naturally, the demon would guard him unless otherwise occupied.
“Gelvin, as discussed.”
“Understood!”
Gelvin replied without hesitation, as always.
Clay eyed him curiously.
“You don’t think the plan’s reckless?”
“You’re a hero, Captain. Us mortals can’t grasp your profound reasons.”
Clay couldn’t laugh at Gelvin’s shining-eyed “hero” mention.
‘Hero.’
Once unthinkable for a fallen count’s son, mere Sword User.
Yet now, it felt fittingly close.
* * *
“The enemy’s pinned down, unable to move.”
“As planned. No word from Count Povet yet?”
“No, sir. Nothing.”
“Makes sense, given the distance.”
Wolfran nodded from his ornate chair, utterly relaxed despite Talua forces nearing.
They were surrounded, flailing futilely in defense.
Breakout attempts? Pointless thrashing.
Time favored them.
‘I can already see them retreating in defeat.’
Soon, raiders would hit the enemy rear.
Panic them, annihilate—war over.
Veil, however, looked bored.
“Boring.”
“Haha, thanks to you, Lord Veil. Without the secret passage, we couldn’t relax like this.”
Normally, the failed Artuha Mountains ambush meant admitting defeat and withdrawing.
But the demon turned the tide.
“At this rate, tasting blood will take…”
Veil trailed off, a faint smile forming.
That instant.
Shiiik!
A sharp arrow pierced the tent, hurtling at Wolfran’s head.
“Eek!”
Wolfran recoiled in terror.
Fortune smiled: Veil caught it inches from his nose.
“W-what the hell?! What are the guards doing?!”
Drenched in cold sweat, Wolfran leaped up, yelling.
Veil smirked oddly, raising his hand slowly.
“Well, the other knights are already…”
Shwaaak!
Crimson droplets seeped from his arm, fanning out like blades.
The blood blades shredded their tent to tatters.
“W-what is this?!”
The knight briefing Wolfran roared at Veil’s sudden act.
Veil shrugged nonchalantly, grinning.
“How can we protect the prince from unseen arrows if we don’t? Though you might want to guard yourself first.”
“W-what… Guk!”
Before the knight could question, a blood-red sword aura pierced his chest from behind.
Behind him stood two knights: one black-haired, one red-haired.
Wary of the demon, they fixed on Wolfran.
“…How did you get here?”
Wolfran’s eyes shook with unease.
Troops everywhere—how?
The black-haired knight, Clay Banheart, grinned casually.
“Through the path you so kindly opened.”