Chapter 98
Chapter 98
"They're the same cowards who ran with their tails between their legs last time! Let's kick their asses again!"
"Yes, sir!"
With the knight's spirited shout, the soldiers atop the fortress walls sprang into action once more.
Bolstered by their victory during the day, the soldiers clung to that memory to forcibly push back the fear of death.
Moreover, the relatively bright moonlight and starlight allowed them to clearly discern the silhouettes of the enemies charging beyond the torchlight.
At the forefront of the charge was Vifros' knight order once again.
But unlike during the day, they now carried iron or wooden shields of various shapes—where they had procured them was anyone's guess.
And only a fraction of them were charging toward the western wall.
The Vifros forces had already begun spreading their troops to the north, south, and even the east.
Unlike the first battle, they were properly prepared this time.
Just seeing that made it clear this wouldn't be as easy as before.
'The soldiers have no choice but to spread thin.'
It was inevitable that the effectiveness of their volleys would diminish as a result.
Logan exhaled softly, sensing that this would be a long night.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
"Charge!"
The enemy forces roared as they galloped forward, entering firing range.
The soldiers, gripping their crossbows with sweaty palms, waited for the command before unleashing their bolts.
Twang-twang-twang!
"Aaagh!"
"Guhk!"
Sharp screams echoed through the night sky.
But the expressions of the crossbowmen, the knights commanding them, and even Logan himself gradually hardened.
The crossbows should have been even more effective at night than during the day—yet the results were baffling.
When targeting an entire army rather than specific individuals, the area was vast enough that the enemy should have struggled to defend against arrows flying out of the darkness.
But only a handful fell at first.
No matter how well they had prepared with shields, the casualties were nothing compared to the fifty-plus they had inflicted during the day.
And then—
Clang-clang-clang!
"Tch, they blocked it!"
Even some of the cavalrymen trailing behind the knights managed to deflect the bolts with their shields.
Considering most of them were holding nothing more than crude wooden shields, it was downright unnatural.
'How is this possible?'
Even accounting for the spread-out forces reducing the concentrated firepower, far too many enemies were closing in on the walls with minimal losses.
It wasn't until they drew near that Logan sensed something amiss.
"Magic!"
"Huh?!"
"It's magic! They're using magic!"
Roger Vifros and about twenty mages were advancing from the rear of the enemy forces.
Logan could distinctly feel an intangible energy emanating from them, enveloping the entire enemy army.
'Wind-based magic.'
He couldn't pinpoint the exact spell, but its effect was undeniable.
Still, knowing didn't mean he could counter it immediately.
And since the attacks weren't completely ineffective, he couldn't just give up.
"Damn it! Keep firing! Aim for the foot soldiers!"
"Focus on the foot soldiers!"
The knights echoed Logan's command, and the soldiers shifted their targets.
A completely different tactic from the day.
With the crossbows weakened by magic, targeting the knights was pointless.
Better to thin out the supporting infantry instead.
Logan then barked another order at the knights.
"Knights, prepare for close combat! Smash their skulls before they even reach the top!"
"Yes, sir!"
Both Logan's shout and the knights' responses were thick with tension.
Though many of Vifros' knights had fallen in the day's battle, they still outnumbered MacLaine's by at least half.
Moreover, the stronger knights—those ranked mid-tier and above—had suffered few casualties during the day.
Everyone knew it, so tension was inevitable.
A battle far more brutal than the day's awaited them.
Boom!
"Aaah!"
Deafening impacts and screams erupted all along the walls.
The mud and oil smeared over the walls while digging the moat were proving more effective than expected.
Knights below mid-tier had to force their way up, only to be met with boiling oil and boulders raining down mercilessly.
Those who somehow dodged it all and reached the top were met with MacLaine knights cleaving their skulls.
Even with their primary weapon—the repeating crossbows—half-neutralized and vastly outnumbered, MacLaine's forces miraculously held the walls.
But once again, it was Vifros' strongest who shattered the stalemate.
"Damn it! Both of Vifros' elite swordsmen are here!"
A cry like a scream echoed from the eastern wall—opposite Logan's position.
It was where Logan's father had gone, where Heinkel would have been if not stationed in the south, and where most of the mid-tier knights were deployed.
'Those damn bastards!'
Of all places, the ones he'd been searching for had appeared on the opposite side.
"Hold the line!"
Logan left only those words before vanishing from the western wall like a ghost.
The movement was a whirlwind—Ghost's Shadow footwork and the Wind God's Boots pushed to their limits.
'Damn it!'
When Ellen was ordered to defend the wall opposite the enemy's advance route, that single curse perfectly encapsulated her feelings.
At first, she had grumbled, thinking it was because she was a woman. But now, the same curse burst from her lips for an entirely different reason.
"Damn it!!"
Swish!
Clang!
A flash of red steel grazed her, tearing through her cuirass and carving a deep wound into her side.
"Hohoho. Not bad for a little girl."
Had the problem been that she was the first to spot the top-tier knight in crimson armor who had appeared like lightning amidst the enemy ranks?
Or was it that, upon seeing him, she couldn't recall his name and had blurted out, "You ape!"?
Even with other mid-tier knights on the wall, this damn ape was fixated solely on her.
No—more accurately, he was toying with her.
'You bastard!'
To reach such a revered level of skill and then waste it on such petty, sadistic games in the heat of battle.
The only consolation was that this top-tier knight was so preoccupied with her that he wasn't aiding the battlefield—
'Like hell that's any consolation! You psycho!'
Thud!
"Guhk!"
"What's wrong? Getting beaten by an ape got your pride hurt? Tough. You'll be my plaything for the next four years. I'll have plenty of fun with you."
So that was it, you worthless piece of trash.
She wanted to retort boldly, but the pain from the blow to her solar plexus left her gasping for air.
And the absolute worst part?
The vicious leer and murderous aura radiating from this bastard suggested he wasn't planning to kill her—he intended to capture her alive.
She didn't even want to imagine what would come after.
'I'd rather die.'
Gritting her teeth, Ellen struggled to lift her trembling body.
But—
Crack.
"Kuh—!"
"Steel yourself. I'll take very good care of you."
Aslan's disproportionately large hand—compared to his frame—grabbed her by the throat. His eyes, contrary to his words, burned with a killing intent so intense it seemed he might tear her apart on the spot.
Ptooey!
"......"
"You bitch..."
"Hah. Hahaha. You crazy whore..."
Wiping the spit from his face, Aslan forcibly suppressed the urge to kill her right then and there.
'Slowly. I'll show you hell—slowly.'
Over the face of this insolent woman clad in knight's armor, he superimposed the faces of countless women from decades past—those who had scorned and humiliated him for his ape-like appearance.
Ever since he had earned the title of "Knight of Swiftness," one half of Vifros' Twin Blades, he had suppressed his old... hobbies.
But it seemed he would indulge in them once more.
Lost in cruel fantasies of dismembering Ellen piece by piece, he barely registered the interruption.
"Hey, ape! Play with me instead!"
A voice that twisted his gut—followed by a golden flash.
BOOM!
The impact reverberated with a deafening crash.
Even though he was the one ambushed, his hand stung from the force.
'What a monster.'
Beyond the crimson blade he had barely raised in time, Logan's brown eyes held none of the impatience from earlier.
His pierced shoulder showed no trace of injury—somehow healed—and the sword that had blocked Logan's strike didn't waver in the slightest.
The only silver lining was that Ellen had been saved.
And—
"He's here too!"
BOOM!
His father had intercepted Flanz, who had been slaughtering soldiers nearby.
With that, the eastern forces were no longer on the verge of collapse.
'Now the problem is the north and west walls.'
He deliberately avoided imagining the state of the sections he and his father had abandoned.
Worrying wouldn't change anything—he could only focus on ending the fight before him as quickly as possible.
'Against an opponent stronger than me, as fast as possible?'
It was a laughable situation. The only option was to gamble.
'As fast as possible.'
In a way Aslan wouldn't predict, at a timing he couldn't foresee—
'Right now!'
Logan lunged straight at Aslan in an instant.
The cold, calculating knight reacted immediately.
His crimson blade shot forward, aiming straight for Logan's heart.
The wounded shoulder from earlier slowed his reaction—just a fraction—but combined with Logan's speed, it looked as though Logan was impaling himself on the blade.
Yet Logan's sword was also aimed at Aslan's heart.
No intention to dodge—as if he intended to die together.
For the briefest moment, transparent brown eyes met burning red ones.
And the wielder of the crimson blade twisted his body—just slightly.
Crunch.
"You insane bastard!"
Logan's sword tore through the side of Aslan's armor—crafted from steel twice as hard as ordinary iron—leaving his chest exposed to the cold night air.
"You're trying to die with me?!"
Aslan's composure shattered as he roared at Logan's reckless assault.
But Logan didn't respond—he simply swung his sword again.
Aslan seized the opening to thrust back, but Logan ignored the attack entirely, maintaining his own offensive.
Squelch!
Another chunk of armor split open, revealing flesh beneath—
And Aslan's brown eyes visibly wavered.
"Guhk! Y-You madman..."
He never imagined a noble-born brat would fight so recklessly—staking his own life in the process.
Even among hardened mercenaries who had seen the worst of war, few resorted to such suicidal tactics unless truly desperate.
Throwing one's life away in an attack was easier said than done—especially for those raised in privilege.
'It's a bluff! He's just posturing! I'm the one holding back!'
Gritting his teeth, Aslan refused to accept it.
Born a commoner with an ape-like face, he had clawed his way to his current position through sheer stubbornness.
The idea that he could lose a battle of nerves to some noble brat was unthinkable.
That a mere high knight had driven him into this dogfight was equally unacceptable.
Baring his teeth, Aslan glared into Logan's eyes.
As crimson and golden blades clashed—
Thunk.
Splurt!
"Y-You're truly insane..."
Cough.
Collapsing to his knees, Aslan yanked the sword from his pierced side and spat blood.
"Hah... But I win."
Staggering to his feet, he was certain of his victory.
In the final exchange, an instinctive kick had sent Logan sprawling without resistance.
Though both had fallen, Aslan had only taken a wound to his side—while Logan's stomach had been run through.
In this battle of wills, he had won.
The memory of his blade veering unconsciously from the heart to the stomach at the last moment had already faded from his mind.
Conversely, Logan's sword had been aimed squarely at his heart—had it not been for the mithril heart-guard beneath his armor deflecting the blade, it would have pierced straight through.
"N-Now die... Huh?!"
Flash.
As a blinding white light erupted from the fallen enemy's right arm—
'No!'
Instinctively disregarding the pain, Aslan lunged to finish Logan off before he could react.
The sword in his hand—the one that had been lodged in his side—felt awkward, but it would suffice to end a downed foe.
Or so he thought.