Chapter 16
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Fault Forest (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“What the...”
Brick was utterly baffled.
Lindelmann hurriedly answered in his place.
“Y-Yes! Killing them would cause problems. But if things get dicey, we’ll have no choice...”
“We’ll do our utmost not to.”
Blake nodded curtly, as if he understood perfectly.
“No, what the hell... Huh!”
Only then did Brick catch on to the meaning of the exchange between Blake and Lindelmann. He started to say something but trailed off.
Blake stood there like a mountain, but his greatsword was nowhere in sight.
In each hand, he gripped a dark, metallic-looking short club—the same ones that had been strapped to his combat pack moments ago. Their exact material was impossible to identify.
About a meter long, with jagged black protrusions studding the head, the clubs sent a chill down the spine just by looking at them.
“What’s that...?”
“The commander sometimes orders us to avoid killing if at all possible.”
“Ah!”
Lindelmann nodded, starting to get it.
The Credo Swordsmen Corps had finally arrived at the basin.
Neigh!
Passing right by the basin, they halted about thirty meters away, in a spot where trees stood sparsely.
“Heh heh!”
At Jude’s signal, the eight swordsmen up front dismounted and fanned out in pairs of four to either side. Jude and the rest stayed mounted, blocking the entrance to the wide basin.
A fairly convincing encirclement formation.
A cold glint flickered in Blake’s eyes and vanished.
“Hey! Running into you here again, eh, Northernrocks Fortress discharged soldier Blake?”
Jude brushed the dirt from his cloak and flashed a grin.
“So it is. Jude Hamilton, harboring bandit scum.”
“You bastard!”
Blake’s words twisted Jude’s features into a savage scowl. A few hot-headed swordsmen drew their blades.
Clang!
Jude yanked out his knight’s longsword to restrain his men and sneered.
“Heh heh! Talk about luck. I was itching to grab a mouthy discharged soldier who doesn’t know his place and give him a thrashing, and lo and behold—he’s buddies with the girls he’s been chasing? Hey, discharged soldier punk. Want me to spell out your future?”
“...”
Blake said nothing, merely staring at Jude and the Credo Swordsmen Corps with impassive eyes.
Unfazed by the lack of reaction, Jude chuckled as expected.
“Word about you’ll spread not just to the Credo main house, but to the Lancaster Baron family too. See, they’re the ones who ordered us to drag out those girls cowering like rats in that carriage.”
“...”
Jude barked a laugh at the stoic Blake and pressed on.
“Hahaha! And tangling with the Lancaster Barons means you’re done escaping Northway alive! It won’t be just us—the hunting dogs from the other six factions will come swarming for you too.”
“Huh...”
“Ugh!”
Lindelmann and Brick’s eyes wavered.
But Jude wasn’t finished.
“Well, even if you somehow slink out of Northway by some miracle, it won’t make a difference. This won’t end till you’re dead. Ah! But here’s the catch...”
Lick!
Jude flicked his tongue along the razor-sharp blade and curled his lip.
“You’ve gotta survive this spot first for any of that to matter. Hahahaha!”
He let out a triumphant roar, then shifted his gaze to Brick and the carriage.
“Everything’s falling into place. They say you kill two birds with one stone, or snag crayfish while ditch-digging? Hey, Sir Brick Carlson. Remind me—what was it again?”
His mind made up, Brick flung his cloak back, leveled his longsword, and declared,
“In the White Family, we say a pup doesn’t fear the tiger and charges right in, you Credo mongrel!”
“Hahahahaha!”
Jude threw his head back in roaring laughter.
“Hahaha! Ha! H-heh...”
The guffaws tapered off after a long stretch. Jude slowly lowered his head.
All mirth gone, his crumpled face was a mask of pure malice.
“Stick your neck out and wait there nice and quiet. After that cocky ex-soldier punk, you’re next, old timer. And you, pale capital pretty boy! You’re last—I’ll snap your limbs personally. Be grateful I let you live.”
“W-What did you say? The nerve of this guy!”
Lindelmann surged forward in fury.
But Blake smoothly intercepted him.
Standing firm in Lindelmann’s path, Blake murmured low,
“You two lure in anyone nearing the carriage and handle them.”
“What do you—Gah!”
Boom!
Without waiting for a reply, Blake kicked off the earth and surged ahead.
Whoosh!
His cloak billowed like a black curtain toward the Credo Swordsmen Corps.
Blake plunged headlong between the trees.
He’d deliberately held position just inside the forest edge bordering the open basin.
Perfect terrain against foes unskilled in mounted combat.
Sure enough, the Credo Swordsmen Corps took up the exact positions and formation he’d anticipated.
Some dismounted to take spots amid the scattered trees; the rest stayed ahorse, sealing the passage.
An ideal setup for maximum efficiency against the enemy, just as planned.
Only one option remained.
Exterminate them.
Flash!
Blue light blazing in his eyes, Blake hurled himself at the swordsmen.
Whoosh!
“Eek?”
His speed—unthinkable for a frame topping 190 centimeters—ripped through the trees, jolting the entire Credo Swordsmen Corps.
But Jude, prepared to a degree, barked orders swiftly.
“Group 1, hold the path! Group 2, flank and encircle him!”
“Yes, sir!”
The dismounted swordsmen sprang into action.
Split into two packs of four, they raced toward Blake’s sides as he barreled in at breakneck pace.
Blake, crouched low amid the trunks, held speed and flicked his gaze left and right. His arms spread wide, almost welcoming them.
To any onlooker, it screamed engagement.
But it was a feint.
Clang!
“Guh!”
A piercing metallic ring—and the lead attackers’ sword arms snapped back, staggering them.
Their blades spun free into the air before clattering to earth.
“Huh?”
Swordsmen and Jude alike gawked.
Whoosh!
No time for shock.
Having disarmed both simultaneously, Blake blew past without a glance.
“Wha?”
The would-be encirclement stared dumbfounded at his retreating form.
Too fast—nothing they could do.
And in those two hurried breaths...
Distance closed to the mounted cluster, Blake thrust out a long leg and slammed the ground.
Boom!
He rocketed upward—nearly his full height.
“Wha?”
Cloak unfurling long behind, he resembled a massive black raptor diving. The two swordsmen ahead gaped wide.
Time froze.
“Block him!”
Jude bellowed, sensing the play.
Swordsmen whipped their grips instinctively.
Then Blake’s arms lashed like thunderbolts.
Swoosh! Boom!
A drum-thunder crack exploded.
“Kek!”
The pair hurtled from their saddles, crashing in mangled heaps.
Abdomen and chest plates caved inward completely. Blood-foam bubbled from mouths, eyes rolled back to whites alone.
Thud!
Blake landed, blue glare erupting from his eyes as he burrowed between the swordsmen’s mounts.
“Damn it! Fall back! Kill this bastard first!”
Rage and panic seizing him, Jude summoned the milling swordsmen between Blake and the carriage—then wheeled his horse toward Blake.
Off-script from Blake’s expectations, but Jude’s blunder all the same.
“Y-You scum!”
“Attack!”
No fools, the remaining mounted swordsmen scrambled to dismount in haste.
Not an open plain, this—trees choked maneuverability on horseback.
Wielding infantry shortswords a span shorter than knight blades, versed in riding but green in advanced equitation and cavalry combat, sound call.
Alas, judgment sound, execution? Blake’s was swifter.
Swoosh! Boom! Thud!
He blurred through, clubs whipping mercilessly.
Blood-slick clubs battered man and beast without mercy.
Neigh! Neigh!
Horses shrieked under the monstrous onslaught, bucking mad.
Storm-scoured, flesh and gore erupted in gouts. Legs splintered—mounts crumpled on the spot.
Thud! Boom!
“Guh!”
“Uwaaah?”
Panic claimed two still-mounted; they tumbled from saddles.
No systematic knightly horsemanship for them—inevitable.
Neigh!
Eyes wild with agony and frenzy, horses careened through trunks, trampling downed foes.
Crunch!
“Aaaagh!”
One swordsman wailed as a hoof pulverized his thigh.
Another, stirrup-snared, dragged kicking and stomping till he flopped limp, lifeless.
Swoosh! Thud!
Blake ravaged the corps’ midst, clubs pounding fallen and upright indiscriminately.
Motions terse, precise. Zero waste.
“Gack!”
“Aaaack!”
Screams rent the air; casualties mounted.
“You filth!”
Blue flames kindled in Jude’s eyes as he wrenched the reins.
His black steed wove the chaos of steeds and trunks at blistering clip, materializing before Blake.
Masterful riding.
“Die!”
Face demonic, Jude spurred to point-blank and slashed longsword top-down.
Swoosh!
Horse-speed fused strike blazed lightbeam-fast at Blake’s crown.
Clang!
“Guh!”
Vicious jolt numbed Jude’s grip—he nearly lost the blade, eyes screwing shut.
“Not bad!”
Reining quick, he hammered down with the deflected sword. Mounted bladework leagues beyond his men.
Whoosh!
Yet it clove nothing.
Balance unbroken, he wheeled the mount and wrist-snapped a reverse upslash chain.
“...!”
Jude’s eyes bulged mid-pose.
Swoosh!
Black shadow swallowed vision.
“Huh!”
Neck jerking back, he yanked the rising blade inward on reflex.
Too late—shadow swifter, stronger.
Ting!
Crisp metal peals chained; Jude’s helm flew.
Blake had parried the opener, evaded the chain—and clubbed the helmet with his off-hand.
“Gah!”
Helmless, brow flung rearward, Jude tumbled from his mount.
(To be continued)