Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Demosha to Berik
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The knight gripped his sword and scanned his surroundings.
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't make sense of this situation. It was because Ian, who was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb for the peace treaty, and his lackey were blending into the Cheonryeo Tribe with such natural ease.
"Berik. You think you can handle it? You're not dying today, are you?"
"Yeah, fuck off. You die instead."
"Talking shit like that means you're in good shape."
"Hey, you knight from Bratz! Give Berik a proper beating! Snap him out of it. Or I'll kill you."
"Kuhahaha! Either way, the knight dies, right? That's too unfair."
"Ah. Yeah, you're right."
It was ridiculous—they had Berik and the knight surrounded in a circle, watching like spectators. The knight felt like a dog in the arena.
He glanced at Ian, who was sitting next to Kakantir, and became convinced that something had gone terribly wrong. This situation needed to be reported to Deruga as well.
"Ptooey!"
Berik spat on the ground and gripped his sword hilt tightly. He'd deflected the knight's attack easily earlier, but that was only because the bastard had let his guard down. Berik turned to Ian and asked,
"But Ian! If I kill this guy, how do we send the reply?"
"There are plenty of sturdy kusille. Don't worry about that—just guard your own neck. If you die, I die too."
"Yeah, yeah. Got it."
Was sending a reply the real issue?
He could just ride a kusille himself instead of the knight. At Ian's words, Berik grinned and assumed his stance. As Kakantir had said, a fight without killing intent was boring as hell.
"Go easy on me. I'll come at you full force, fuck."
"Your speech is crude!"
"That's my charm!"
Chaeng! Chaeng!
Berik kicked off the sand and leaped forward in an instant. The sword blade slicing through the air was a blur. The knight methodically blocked Berik's attacks.
"Uwaaaah!"
Kiiiiik!
The clash of blades echoed chillingly. The Cheonryeo tribesfolk watched with interest, chiming in with comments.
"Knight! Kill him! Kill Berik!"
"Uahaha! Look at that—over there. He's already looking tired."
"No, I'm not!"
At first glance, it sounded like they were cheering for the knight, but Ian and Berik knew better.
Hadn't Kakantir said it himself?
"Go on! Berik!"
"Try rolling around!"
The true path of a warrior led to death.
They all hoped with one mind that Berik would be reborn as a true warrior.
"A mad dog charging without strategy."
"High praise?"
Puk!
"Keheok!"
The knight, who had been defending, seized an opening and slammed his elbow into Berik's solar plexus. Berik's face plunged into the sand. He clutched his chest, gasping as he couldn't breathe.
"Oops. Looks like that one landed properly."
"Berik! Get! Up!"
"Tsk tsk. Knew it from the start when he was mouthing off."
Ian smirked. The moment Berik actually went down, the Cheonryeo Tribe's reactions turned vicious. Judging that there was no time to waste, the knight gripped his sword again.
The nape of the fallen target's neck was wide open.
Shiiik!
The instant the knight's sword neared Berik's neck. Berik twisted his body to dodge while kicking sand into the knight's face. Then, he repaid the favor with a fist straight to the jaw.
Puk!
"That fucking hurts!"
Puk! Puk!
As the fight devolved into a brawl, the knight glanced at the sky. The sun had fully risen. In this moment where every second counted, he had no reason to play around with Berik.
"Don't be a nuisance!"
Chaeng! Chaeng!
But the problem was that this Berik bastard was no pushover. Every time the knight thought he had a decisive opening, Berik surged forward, leaving the knight both irritated and flustered.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Huaaat!"
Their shouts erupted simultaneously. Their swords locked, each aiming for the other's heart as they twisted.
Puk!
Finally, blood stained the blade.
The knight's strike had pierced Berik's side precisely. Blood dripped down the blade. The knight didn't stop there—he twisted the hilt.
A sly smile crept onto his lips as a bonus.
"Kuwaaaah!"
"Hoo. Good skill, but this is the end."
"Ugh! Uwaaaah!"
"I'm busy."
It was gut-wrenching. As Berik grabbed the blade with his bare hands, blood streamed down in rivulets. The moment Ian unconsciously frowned, a Cheonryeo tribesman muttered menacingly.
"Crazy bastard. If you're gonna kill him, do it cleanly."
A fight without respect was mere mockery. And that was the situation they despised most. Berik shook his head as his vision spun, then looked down at his wound.
"...Ha. Fuck."
He gritted his teeth and tried to pull out the sword. The more he did, the deeper the knight drove it. The blade tip finally pierced through Berik's body and emerged from the back.
Puk!
The knight kicked Berik's body away. Stepping over the tumbling form, he approached Ian steadily. Kakantir merely propped his chin with the same indifferent gaze as before.
"Ian Bratz. Time's up."
He drew a dagger from his waist. Unlike Berik, this would suffice for Ian. With each step he took, the surroundings grew quieter. Only the eerie howl of the sandstorm swirled about.
"Your death will prove Lord Deruga Bratz's innocence. Die with honor, fulfilling your duty."
He raised the dagger high. Ian's gaze followed the blade tip, then shifted behind the knight. It wasn't the reaction of someone facing death, so the knight involuntarily hesitated and glanced back.
"Ha."
Berik stood there blankly. His head was tilted back as if possessed by a demon, but his legs held firm. He yanked the sword from his side in one motion.
Splash!
Blood sprayed like a fountain. Not a spot from head to toe was free of red. Berik slowly lowered his head and muttered hoarsely.
"...I, haven't, finished yet, you fucker."
"Just stop already......"
Ziiing.
That was when it happened. The knight couldn't continue, sensing a familiar yet alien aura. It was the same feeling he'd gotten from the knight commanders during monster battles.
Saaak.
Berik's hair, which had been swaying gently, began whipping wildly. The sand lines etched into the ground looked like waves.
"I return one hit with two."
"Damn! You're such a fucking pain!"
"Knight, use this."
Then, Kakantir chuckled and lent his own sword. The knight's sword, embedded in Berik's side, lay on the ground. Without hesitation, the knight took it and charged at Berik.
Splash!
"Even if I die, I won't die alone!! I! You fucker, I'll watch you die first!"
"Shut up!"
Berik exploded upward with ferocious power.
Ian noticed his eyes gleaming as they had when Ian had infused them with mana. Amid the bloodied face, only his pupils burned brightly.
Chaeng! Chaeng!
"Uwaaaah!"
"Wha, what the fuck......"
Berik pressed forward at tremendous speed. Even the knight, barely dodging, ended up bleeding. The power was incomparably heavier than before.
Blood sprayed along the grazing blades. No one knew if it was Berik's or the knight's.
"Dieee!"
Puk!
Berik's strike pierced the knight's shoulder in one go.
Time seemed to freeze. The knight shuddered, pushing the blade away with his other hand, but...
"Uwaaaah!"
Just as the knight had done, Berik leaned his weight in. He raised the hilt, dragging the sword toward the heart. With each inch of the long, deep gash, blood poured out with the knight's breaths.
"Ah, th......"
"Haa... haa......"
Berik clenched his teeth and pinned the knight's neck with his knee. The blade slid free from the shoulder. It pointed skyward as if to stab the sun, then plunged without mercy through the knight's throat.
Puk!
"Ah, fuck, really......"
Then, he collapsed onto the sand.
Berik clutched his aching side and curled up. Cheers and encouragement erupted simultaneously from the now-silent crowd.
"Berik! Well done! You cocky bastard!"
"Yeah, that's what a fight is—go till the end!"
"Not bad with a sword. Berik, you back in the game?"
"Ah. Don't talk to me. It hurts too much......"
"Don't be a wimp! Just a little blood."
"Hey! Move this guy. Where's the healer?"
Kakantir watched the commotion with a faint smile. He bowed his head to Ian and whispered quietly. For some reason, he looked truly satisfied.
"I see why Lord Ian brought that one along."
"I didn't bring him—he came with me."
"Hahaha. Right. He embodies a warrior's virtues perfectly. That Berik isn't ordinary at all."
"Who else has such a foul-mouthed, tough personality?"
Kakantir had asked about the flashing eyes and surging power, but Ian playfully brushed it off. He approached Berik and crouched down.
"Berik. Snap out of it."
He snapped his fingers in front of Berik's eyes. Berik grimaced and tried to bite Ian's finger.
"Hey now. Watch it."
"...This shit hurts bad."
"Looks like it. Good work."
The latent sword-mage abilities were awakening on their own. The stimulation from Ian's mana infusion was gradually rousing them. Berik made one last attempt to bite Ian's finger before passing out.
"Someone carry him."
"Yeah, yeah. Gotta stop the bleeding."
"Wow. Is he asleep or passed out?"
"With a hole in his gut? Passed out, obviously."
The Cheonryeo tribesfolk bantered as they carried Berik to the tent. A cloth was draped over the knight's body as well. Nersarn retrieved the reply from the knight's bosom and called for Su.
"Su. Prepare."
"Ah. Please no."
She instinctively knew he was assigning her a chore. Su made an X with her arms to show her refusal, but it was firmly ignored. Nersarn summoned a subordinate and ordered,
"Cut off the knight's head and put it in a box."
"Aaah! I'll just take the paper! Right, Lord Nersarn?"
"No, it has to be the head."
Nothing would suffice as a reply to Deruga quite like that.
Su jumped up and clung to Nersarn, but it was futile. Soon, the knight's body was dismembered. Nersarn turned to Ian and asked,
"Now we just wait for the right moment?"
"Yes. Now that they know 'we' want to break the peace treaty, Deruga will clash with the Central Army immediately. No point dragging it out with reinforcements coming. He'll prioritize wiping out the investigation team first."
The best scenario was Deruga resisting fiercely, inflicting losses on both the investigation team and Central Army before being eliminated. In that state, if Ian entered the capital backed by the Cheonryeo Tribe, he could secure victory even more decisively.
"Demosha!"
A warrior carrying the knight's body thrust his fist toward Ian. It was a greeting invoking God's blessing, celebrating Berik's growth, and reaffirming loyalty.
Ian lightly bumped fists in response.
"Demosha."
The warriors' bloodlust would heat the desert further. Like grasping the rising sun, Ian's fist was resolute.