The Blood Cult's First Battle
After the orc’s head tumbled to the snow, the creatures finally understood they had been attacked.
“Humans!”
“Humans are coming!”
“Blow the horns! Blow the horns!”
The orcs shouted belatedly, but the moment had already passed.
The encampment lay in utter chaos, torn apart from within by infighting. Even the horn-blowers who had been blowing their horns moments earlier had their attention snatched away by the sudden riot.
Kyle’s party had no idea which direction they had come from, yet several orcs moved on pure instinct.
“Crrk! Blow the horns!”
“Tell the main force in the rear!”
One orc crouched in the crevice between hills pulled a thick horn from his belt. It was a crude instrument carved from a beast’s horn, but the moment it sounded, the main force hidden at the rear would learn of their situation.
Kyle’s gaze shifted toward that direction.
So he was planning to grab that first after all.
He kept his sword swinging in its arc and gave a tiny flick of his fingers.
The blood that had been on the severed orc’s neck had already frozen.
Red ice crystals.
Normally just meaningless traces of slaughter, but to Kyle they meant everything.
Perfect timing.
He pointed one finger.
The frozen droplets of blood hovering in the snow lifted into the air.
Red ice crystals shot off in unison.
Paba-baba-bak!
“Crrrk!”
Red crystals slammed into the back of the orc’s hand as he tried to bring the horn to his mouth. Blood spurted between his fingers.
Before the orc could flinch, more droplets hammered the thin part of the horn.
Pag!
A crack spiderwebbed across the crude instrument.
Then countless more crystals slammed in.
Pasasak!
The horn shattered and fell to the snow.
“W-what?!”
Another orc hastily drew his own horn, ducking low after seeing his comrade’s fate.
But Kyle’s eyes were already fixed on him.
The droplets did not come from one direction.
Blood had spilled everywhere on the ground.
Blood flung by the orc-on-orc brawl.
Blood that had dripped from the axe-split shoulders.
Pool after pool of blood that had dirtied the snow.
All of it had turned into red ice crystals beneath the subzero wind.
Papapapak!
The second orc’s wrist took a direct hit from the second wave.
“Kraaaa!”
The horn slipped from his grip.
Instead of the sword, the red crystals rushed ahead.
Pak! Pagak!
The falling horn shattered mid-air.
Shards of horn scattered across the snow.
“Crrrk! Protect the horns!”
“Humans are after the horns!”
Even the orcs belatedly realized their horns were the target.
They tried to shield the horn-blowers, but the judgment came too late.
Pababa-bak-!
The frozen droplets he controlled moved like tiny arrows.
They were not fast enough to kill outright, but they tore through fingers, struck eyes, and shattered the weak points of the horns.
“Kraaak! My hand!”
“My eye! My eye!”
“The horns are broken!”
Screams followed.
The orcs who had been blowing the horns lost their grip one after another.
Every time a horn fell, the red crystals stuck to it and shattered it.
Pak. Pasasak. Kwajik.
It was over in a short while.
Yet in that short time, all three horn-blowers inside the camp were shattered.
There would be no way to send a signal to the main force.
Kyle finally let go of his sword.
Now I’ll kill everyone except the ones I need.
It was nothing like the slaughter inside the Grand Duke’s Castle study room.
There the room had been sealed, with only one entrance and Leina blocking it—making it a perfect killing field.
This place was open air, an open valley with exits in every direction.
If the orcs so much as breathed, they could scatter and flee.
So first he cut the voices.
Next the legs.
Finally only the mouths would remain.
They wouldn’t slip away.
Kyle read the orcs’ panicked movements.
Three on the right are scared. They’re trying to retreat.
Two on the left still have rage left. They’re charging on their own.
His next target was clear.
He swung his sword.
Kang!
He tilted the charging orc’s axe aside.
At the same time he pushed off with his toes and slid his body inward.
Puuk!
The sword’s tip pierced beneath the orc’s throat.
“Krr…”
While the orc was still spewing blood and foam, Kyle had already moved to his next position.
Slaying the enemy was not enough.
He had to block every escape route.
He squeezed the orcs’ natural dispersal paths.
Those consumed by rage were forced to charge at him.
Those who were terrified were shoved straight into Leina and Wulfran’s reach.
One of them—a huge orc—twisted his body toward Leina.
“KRRAAAAA!”
He gripped a massive log club with both hands and charged at the tiny-looking human woman.
Leina did not retreat.
She stepped half a pace forward instead.
Blue aura condensed over the small shield on her left arm, mixed with faint blood-red light.
Kaaang!
The shield met the club head-on.
Instead of absorbing the blow directly, the angled shield deflected the club’s trajectory sideways.
The shock traveled through the entire arm, not just the shield’s angle.
“Kree?!”
The orc’s upper body lurched forward from the force he could not control.
In that instant, Leina’s sword lowered.
Sawrk! Pwuaaaak!
“KRRRRAAAAA!”
The orc’s two legs were severed below the knees.
The massive body lost balance and crashed to the snow.
But Leina did not stop.
She needed to capture the orc alive, so she could not kill it.
Yet she could not leave any resistance.
As the fallen orc screamed and reached out with his arms, Leina’s sword crossed twice.
Pwuk! Pwuaak!
Both of the orc’s arms fell to the snow.
The four-limbed creature twitched in a pool of blood, like a worm.
Leina stood with shield and sword dripping, staring down at the orc with cold eyes.
Her pupils now glowed faintly with blood-red light.
Meanwhile, Wulfran, wielding the glaive, blocked the orcs’ retreat.
“Heh. So this is a battlefield again.”
He laughed low.
Thanks to the Blood Source Mind Image Scripture, he could once more stand on a battlefield.
“Crrk! Get out of the way, human!”
An orc lifted his axe and charged.
Wulfran did not dodge.
Whoosh-!
The glaive moved.
Sawrk!
The orc’s neck split open.
Red-black blood scattered across the snow.
Wulfran did not even glance at the fallen orc.
He was already reading the next movement.
“Break through that way!”
Three orcs trying to flee charged right.
Wulfran lowered his glaive.
Pwuaak-!
Both ankles of the two leading orcs were severed at once.
Before the screams even left their mouths, the glaive returned.
Sawrk! Sawrk!
Two more necks split open.
The last orc froze.
“Y-this monster…!”
At that moment, behind Wulfran’s back, an old orc hiding in a snow pit lunged out with a dagger.
He must have thought a backstab would succeed.
“Die!”
As the old orc swung the dagger down, a soft ringing sound rang out.
Sling-!
Wulfran did not turn.
He drew his long sword with his left hand and plunged it straight into the old orc’s back.
Puuk!
“Kk, heh…”
The blade pierced the old orc’s chest.
Wulfran pulled the sword free and shoved the corpse aside.
“Foolish.”
His eyes, unfocused, closed.
“There is no back behind me.”
At those words, the orcs’ faces twisted in despair.
The horns were already destroyed.
No way to send a signal to the main force.
Those trying to flee ran into Wulfran’s glaive.
Those shoved toward Leina fell to her sword, spraying blood.
And at the center of it all stood Kyle.
He cut the orcs and at the same time forced their movements.
Rage-filled orcs were made to charge at him.
Terrified ones were pushed into the range of Leina and Wulfran.
The orcs thought they were fleeing on their own.
In reality they were simply being driven down the path Kyle had opened.
The end was death.
Sawrk!
“Kraaak!”
The neck of the orc fleeing behind him was severed by Leina’s sword.
Puuk!
Wulfran’s glaive pierced beneath another orc’s throat.
Kyle watched the scene and let out a cold laugh.
They’re getting usable.
Leina’s sword was becoming more practical with every battle.
The Blood Mist Spiritual Transformation Heart Method was slowly growing inside her.
So was it for Wulfran.
Now there were no blind spots.
Every direction his senses reached was his battlefield.
Kyle swung his sword again.
Kang!
He deflected the orc’s axe.
Before the axe could fall, the sword tip sank into the neck.
Pwuk!
Blood gushed.
At that moment, one old orc hiding in the valley crevice stood up, trembling.
“Crrk… sa, sa…”
The words could not finish.
Sawrk!
Kyle’s sword cut not the neck but the leg.
The old orc fell to the snow.
That one would be useful for information about the main force.
One old orc to speak, and one young orc whose limbs Leina had already severed.
The necessary mouths were secured.
After that, it was just cleanup.
“Run!”
“Those human monsters!”
The orcs tried to flee, but none succeeded.
Sawrk! Pwuaaaak-!
Screams gradually faded.
Clubs and axes fell across the snow.
The orcs’ bodies collapsed in every direction.
Soon, no orcs stood beneath the hills.
The battle ended as one-sided hunting.
Haken, Morris, and Delph, watching from the hill, could not speak.
The sight of the three men smiling as they cut the orcs and sprayed blood was terrifying even to those who had fought in countless wars.
I wonder if they really called him a troublemaker back home?
Or did the rumor spread that he’s a blood-loving battle maniac and that’s why he’s called that?
Kyle brushed off the frozen bloodstains clinging to his sheath with his aura.
Then he sheathed his sword once more.
He stood before the young orc whose limbs Leina had severed.
“K, krrrlk…!”
The orc twitched even though both arms and legs were gone.
A human would have died long ago from such wounds.
But orcs had tenacious life force.
Especially the way the cold had instantly frozen the cut surfaces of the arms and legs, stopping the bleeding and prolonging his life.
Kyle bent down.
He grabbed the orc’s blood-soaked neck and hoisted him up—shortened in stature because he had no legs—to eye level.
“Where is your main force located?”