Chapter 339: Bread and Dagger (37)
Chapter 339: Bread and Dagger (37)
Blades are always honest.
Unlike the tongue, a sword is never swung in deceit. The moment a blade is drawn and begins to trace its arc, a silent declaration is made.
It is the signal for a duel to the death.
It is an agreement where nothing matters except killing or being killed. Mercy is unnecessary. Half-hearted sympathy only leads to mistakes.
At least, that was how it worked in the North.
Sir Alex seemed to have mastered this truth through long experience. Despite wearing heavy armor, his stride across the snow was ethereal.
The thumping of his footsteps barely lasted a few beats.
It was a rush of terrifying speed. Before I knew it, he was closing in on a thick coniferous tree.
Immediately after, he swung a blow as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn't a precise or exquisite strike, but a savage arc.
Yet, that alone was enough.
With a sickening crack, the entire base of the tree exploded.
Pale yellow fibers were exposed where the bark had been torn away. Deprived of its support, the tree’s collapse was inevitable.
A shrill scream escaped from above.
An elf scout, who had been hiding in the branches, came tumbling down.
Sir Alex didn't even spare him a glance.
He simply reached out with his free hand and grabbed the elf’s skull.
Then came another cracking sound, and it was over.
The elf’s face, slammed directly into the ground, was hideously crushed. It was a clean, instant death, leaving no room for even a final cry of agony.
Only the blood and brain matter spilling onto the pristine white snow bore witness to his passing.
It was a movement devoid of even a shred of hesitation. If I left the elves to Sir Alex, not a single one would survive.
I couldn't let that happen.
Partly because Avian was watching, but mostly because what I needed was information.
An elf’s head meant nothing to me.
I had already achieved countless military feats. From named demonic beasts to fiends hiding in orphanages, and recently, even a subordinate of the Evil God.
There was no glory to be gained from defeating mere elves.
If anything, I’d probably just get a lecture from the Saintess.
In that case, it was better to take them alive.
My sprint was just as fast as Sir Alex’s.
Through the gaps in my heightened senses, I picked up several presences. They were so faint that their breathing felt like a part of the natural environment.
Come to think of it, Avian had been the same.
Even though she bore no ill will, I hadn't properly sensed her presence when she was hiding behind the tree. This was a sensation I hadn't experienced within the brick walls of the Academy.
Do elves’ presences fade when they are among nature?
Forming that hypothesis, I kicked off the ground violently.
Thump. The moment I felt the powerful rebound force from the earth I stepped on, I was already face-to-face with an elf hiding in a tree.
The eyes of the slender elf woman flew wide.
In those eyes, filled with disbelief, several thoughts seemed to flash by.
That’s not the leg power of a normal human.
Impossible.
I’m in trouble.
Her assessment wasn't wrong.
With a single leap, I had soared several meters high. Swordsmen who reached the level of Expert were, without exception, monsters possessing this kind of strength.
They were superhumans, of whom there were perhaps only a few hundred in the entire continent.
The elves’ luck could only be described as abysmal for having run into two of them at once.
The elf attempted a belated struggle, but the moment our eyes met, it was over.
She tried to draw her bowstring, but when she felt no sensation, she shifted her gaze.
There was nothing left where her arm should have been.
Only a sudden geyser of crimson blood.
"Ugh, agh...!"
Whack! The pommel of my sword slammed into the elf’s temple.
The blow landed before she could even scream.
If she made a sound, the demonic beasts roaming the coniferous forest might swarm us. While it was unlikely we’d be put in real danger, it was better to be as cautious as possible.
The elf collapsed weakly and fell from the tree.
Not only was there snow on the ground, but thick moss grew there as well. A lean elf wouldn't die from such a fall.
And if she did, well, that was just too bad.
At the same time, I snatched an arrow flying toward me with a sharp snap.
A belated cry of shock erupted.
"Emily!"
It was another elf woman.
She glared at me with pure hatred, gritting her teeth. She was aiming arrows filled with fierce killing intent at me.
Three of them, to be exact.
I let out a hollow laugh, find the situation absurd.
"How can you fire three arrows with that bow...?"
Just then, my senses caught a strange current.
A gentle, fluttering breeze.
In this land of the northern wind, how could such a kind breeze blow?
I quickly sheathed my sword, and the three arrows shot into the sky traced a bizarre trajectory as they rushed toward me.
First, I used the arrow I was holding to shoot down one.
I snatched another out of the air with my hand, used it to deflect the third, and then hurled it back at the elf.
The elf seemed flustered but quickly showed a calm response.
As soon as she let out a sharp whistle, the flying arrow was deflected into the air.
If I had been an ordinary swordsman, I would have been in a bit of a predicament.
I would have had to drop to the ground at the very least.
But unfortunately for the elf, I wasn't a swordsman who fought by the book.
In fact, my most confident throwing weapon was something else entirely.
Thrum. A silver trajectory tore through the air.
Both its speed and mass were incomparably superior to an arrow. By the time she noticed it, a dull impact had already struck her shoulder.
Splat. Blood scattered into the air like celebratory confetti.
Before the elf woman could even react, I recalled the hand axe using the secret of stillness in motion. Because her contracted muscles wouldn't let go of the axe, her body tilted forward.
And then, she fell.
I jumped down to the ground and caught the returning hand axe.
Then, I walked slowly toward her.
At a glance, the elf scouting party seemed to consist of four members. Two of them appeared to be less skilled, while the other two were likely the senior members.
At least they were capable of putting up some resistance.
Of course, they were no match for Sir Alex and me.
Sir Alex also looked to be on the verge of finishing off the remaining elf scout. I watched my breath scatter into white mist and asked.
My voice was cold, fitting for the North.
"Do you want to live?"
"Shut up...!"
Despite being an elf with a particularly strong will to survive, hatred was streaming from the woman’s eyes.
The terrible pain was clearly conveyed through her twitching movements as she clutched her shoulder.
The voice leaking through her gritted teeth was burning with passion.
Hot enough to melt the snow.
"Do you think I would beg for my life from the likes of you?! If it weren't for you people, we wouldn't be like this...!"
"If your side had won, we would have been the ones like this."
I let out a breath that was starting to grow ragged and lowered my body.
It was to meet the elf woman’s eyes.
Her eyelashes were trembling. It meant her emotions were in extreme turmoil.
"Still, you're lucky you met me. I'm not from the North. As long as I get the information I need, I have no grudge against you... I'll let you go safely."
"Cough, ptui!"
She spat out blood-stained saliva.
She seemed to want to spit it in my face, but she lacked the strength, and it fell short.
I let out a deep sigh.
And in the next moment.
Slam! The elf’s face was driven into the ground. My hand was already gripping her head, applying pressure against the earth.
Beneath the soft moss waited the frozen ground.
She must have felt her nose bone crush, and more than that, it would be agonizingly difficult to breathe.
As proof, the elf let out muffled screams, her arms and legs flailing. She fumbled and pulled out a dagger with her remaining hand, but that was it.
I snatched the dagger away as easily as twisting a child’s wrist.
Snap. Her wrist broke in the process, and an even more piteous scream erupted.
"Hmph, mmmph! Mmmmmmph!"
Though it couldn't ring out into the air, buried as it was in the dirt.
After some time had passed.
I grabbed the elf by the hair and lifted her head again.
Her eyes were now filled with vivid terror.
"If you don't resist, I won't use violence. I promise... but if you act defiant again, I don't know what I'll do to you."
Because you aren't the only elf here.
Though left unsaid, that warning was included in the context of my words.
The elf woman showed signs of hesitation.
If even a mere scouting party was like this, the rift between humanity and the elves seemed deeper than I had imagined.
I was just contemplating whether to slam her face into the ground once more.
"Agh!"
A short, low-pitched scream rang out.
The elf woman and I immediately turned our gaze toward the source. There, an elf man lay collapsed, bleeding profusely.
Standing tall before him was Sir Alex.
He held no weapon in his hand. It seemed he had dropped his sword during the fight, or perhaps he had done so on purpose.
His gauntlets were drenched in blood.
Seeing the elf man’s face, swollen in various places, it was clear he had been subjected to a merciless beating. Only when the elf tried to crawl backward did Sir Alex pick up his sword again.
What would follow was obvious.
A piteous wail escaped the elf woman’s lips.
"Ma—Matis...!"
Her voice was quite desperate.
At that trembling tone, even Sir Alex glanced back at her for a moment. The elf woman was reacting more dramatically than when her own life was threatened.
Of course, Sir Alex wasn't the type to care.
He prepared to bring his sword down, like an executioner releasing the lever of a guillotine.
It was then that someone caught my eye as I hesitated for a split second.
Avian.
That tiny girl was running desperately. Her face, filled with resolve, showed nothing but the single-minded determination to stop Sir Alex at any cost.
Even though she would be far too late.
She couldn't use magic. Bound by the restraints, Avian was destined to have her head explode the moment I or Senior Neris recited the trigger word.
And yet, seeing her run like that, well...
Just as the blade traced the arc of execution, and the elf woman and Avian looked on with despairing eyes.
Clang! A sharp sound of metal clashing rang out.
The momentum of the collision was so great that a small spark even flew into the air. Sir Alex staggered for a moment from the sudden impact before immediately regaining his posture.
The old knight’s eyes turned toward me in bewilderment.
It was only natural.
Because I was the one who had stopped him.
To be precise, it was the hand axe I had thrown.