087. Support 1
Centered on Plentel Castle, at the 4 o'clock position. Countless monsters pushed through the dim underbrush in a massive formation. Sharp claws and bodies nearly two meters tall. They were werewolves, their entire forms covered in fur.
Though their individual strengths varied wildly, most were on par with 3rd class assassins. These weren't ordinary monsters—they were chimeras, artificially created by the Grander family.
Opposite the werewolves stood a host of knights. It was the 4th Knight Division.
The numbers were roughly even: about fifty men against fifty beasts.
"Grrrrrr."
The werewolves growled at the 4th Division knights before them. Furrowed brows. Bared fangs. The sight of humans stirred their bloodlust.
Soon, those who couldn't contain their instincts charged forward.
Swoosh.
Moments later, a brutal melee erupted in the underbrush.
Clang! Clang! Clang...!
The knights' weapons clashed against the werewolves' forepaws. The beasts swung their claws repeatedly, then sank their teeth into the knights' throats.
Swoosh. Swoosh...
Clang! Clang!
"Argh!"
"Ugh..."
The knights' screams filled the bushes. The werewolves glared fiercely, heads still clamped on their victims' necks. Blood poured from the torn flesh.
Drip.
It was a gruesome sight, too horrific to watch.
Seeing their comrades die so cruelly sapped the 4th Division's morale.
"T-they want us to hold off these things? We can't match their strength or speed..."
"Something's wrong. These aren't opponents we can handle..."
Seizing the knights' faltering spirits, the werewolves pressed their assault.
Swoosh. Swoosh.
Thud! Thud!
Red blood sprayed as the werewolves gained the upper hand—until then.
"You filthy wolves dare...!"
A voice rich with experience rang out. A white-haired elder with a long beard: 4th Division Captain Herion, the White Fang.
Herion slammed his thick sword, Batos, into the ground.
Rumble rumble crack!
The earth shook and split beneath it. But unlike usual, the power was feeble.
Herion had already taken down nearly half of the fifty-odd 3rd class beasts. His stamina had hit rock bottom, exposing his limits.
The werewolves cloaked themselves in dark shadows, effortlessly dodging his attack.
'Mana of Agility...!'
Herion furrowed his brow at their nimble movements—but only for a moment.
Swoosh. Slash. Swoosh...
Beastly forepaws flew at him from all sides.
Thud.
Scratches raked his body, and Herion spat blood.
The surrounding knights' eyes widened.
"Captain!"
"A-are you alright?"
Herion, his eyes half-lidded, muttered to himself.
'I'm not what I used to be. Time spares no warrior, after all...'
Even their captain falling crushed the 4th Division's hopes—until then.
Swords and spears scattered on the ground rose into the air, hurtling toward the werewolves.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh slash.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh slash.
Weapons pierced the werewolves' bodies en masse, felling them in an instant.
Thud. Thud. Thud...
Herion's eyes flashed as he watched.
'This is... Eagle's Sword?!'
A technique reserved for 2nd class knights.
As the stunned Herion scanned his surroundings, hoofbeats approached.
Thud thud thud!
Thud!
A purple horse raced in, and someone uppercut Herion in the gut with a fist.
"What the hell are—"
Herion collapsed without identifying his attacker.
Thud.
It was Jack.
The 4th Division knights turned to him too late. Jack melted into the shadow at his feet.
Swoosh.
As the knights whirled around in confusion, Jack reappeared behind them.
He knocked them out one by one.
Swoosh. Thud. Thud. Thud...
Gazing at the fallen knights, Jack recalled Bin's orders.
'Two things: Don't let the other knights learn your identity. And any monsters you encounter... slaughter them all.'
True to Bin's command to stay hidden, Jack handled it his way.
He fixed his red eyes on the werewolves like a predator eyeing prey.
"By the king's name, I shall judge you."
"Grrr..."
Unlike when they'd faced the 4th Division, the werewolves shrank back a step.
Soon, the sound of Jack's blades piercing their guts filled the bushes.
Thud! Thud! Thud...!
* * *
At the 8 o'clock position from Plentel Castle. A circular clearing in the brush came into view, empty at its center.
The 3rd Knight Division lay in ambush within the ring of foliage. At the heart of it lay the carcass of a massive wild boar—to lure in the chimeras.
Soon.
Flick. Flick.
The sound of flicking tongues approached.
Thud. Thud.
A monster blending lizard and human drew near: a Lizardman.
Hostile to humans, they dwelled mainly in swamps. Blue scales covered their bodies.
Swords and shields in hand.
Thud. Thud.
Two Lizardmen flicked their tongues as they neared the boar.
3rd Division Captain Chosi and her newly appointed 50th Captain, Velvet, watched from hiding.
The other 3rd Division knights nocked arrows in concealment—bows, crossbows, their ranged specialties at the ready.
Red-haired Velvet glanced at Chosi, awaiting the attack order.
Chosi met her gaze and whispered.
'Just a bit longer.'
Velvet nodded silently, holding her breath.
'Yeah, let more gather...'
Soon, Lizardmen began trickling in.
Everything was going to plan—until then.
The Lizardmen veered not toward the boar, but the encircling brush.
Thud. Thud.
They surrounded it in a flash.
Then a particularly massive one spoke.
"You think us such fools? As if we'd fall for this obvious trap!"
With Lizardmen filling the area, the 3rd Division's faces darkened.
"...!"
'At this range, we're at a disadvantage...'
'This is bad... really bad...'
Ranged experts by trade, the 3rd Division was utterly exposed up close. No room to maneuver.
Soon, blood sprayed.
Thud! Thud!
Lizardmen thrust swords into the bushes at the knights.
As lives were lost one by one—
Ting! Ting! Ting!
Swords bounced off, and a purple barrier enveloped the 3rd Division.
It blocked further attacks, sparing them more casualties.
The knights seized the moment, drawing bowstrings.
Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh...!
Twang. Twang. Twang...!
Arrows rained down, turning the Lizardmen into pincushions in seconds.
Thud! Thud! Thud...!
The sudden purple barrier had flipped the fight.
Velvet muttered in disbelief.
"Who the hell cast advanced magic...?"
She scanned around—no sign of a mage.
As Velvet gaped, Queen smirked from her hiding spot in the brush, watching over the 4th Division knights.
'Heh, how cute.'
Bone monsters flanked her as guards.
* * *
At the 12 o'clock position from Plentel Castle. The 2nd Knight Division clashed with massive stone monsters.
They were Magoyles: evil-faced giants.
Spear specialists, the 2nd Division lunged at them.
Ting! Ting! Ting...
As expected, their stone bodies repelled the blows. Supreme defense golems.
Attacks barely scratched them.
As the knights faltered—
Thud. Thud. Thud...
Red flames erupted from countless Magoyles' guts, toppling them.
Thud. Thud. Thud...
Black smoke rose from their fallen forms.
The knights stared, dumbfounded.
"Magoyles... down in one hit?!"
"W-who did that...?"
Small wonder—they'd been impenetrable fortresses moments ago. Now they crumpled like dominoes.
Thud. Thud. Thud...
Hidden in the brush, King sneered at the Magoyles.
"Their faces as my flames hit... like they've swallowed a beehive. Haha."
As King laughed, an ominous aura made him halt.
"Everyone, stand back. I'm going in."
A commanding voice. 2nd Division Captain Hipo.
Astride his red horse, he swung his spear at the remaining Magoyles.
Swoosh. Swoosh. Slash.
Silver spear danced through the air like a living serpent.
Shadows trailed Hipo's form, his spear free to strike from any angle. Too fast to track.
As he weaved through the horde—
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Their bodies shredded apart.
The 2nd Division marveled at his ghostly spearmanship.
"Incredible..."
"The captain's spear is on another level."
They could only gawk at the realm beyond their own.
But admiration was brief. Something loomed behind Hipo—like a mountain on his back.
Thud. Thud.
A beast several times larger than the rest. Clearly the leader.
Unlike the stone Magoyles, this one was forged of iron.
It glared at Hipo.
Hipo whipped around, slashing repeatedly with his silver spear.
But unlike before, only faint clinks sounded.
Ting! Ting! Ting...
His attacks bounced harmlessly.
The 2nd Division's eyes bulged.
"Even a 2nd class knight like... Captain Hipo...!"
"No way..."
Momentarily stunned, they watched the giant Magoyle's fist swing at Hipo.
No ordinary fist—it gleamed silver.
BOOM!!
A deafening roar carved a massive trench. Hipo tumbled from his red horse, flying far away.
Thud.
The sight drew gasps.
"Captain!"
"What the hell is that thing...!"
They had reason to panic. They'd never seen Hipo unhorsed.
The Magoyle, meanwhile, grinned and exhaled magi.
Hiss.
"Magi?! This one's leagues beyond the others..."
One knight recognized it amid the iron giant's magi: newly appointed 50th Captain Silva.
"You...!"
Silva's gaze fell to his bandaged right arm—the very beast that had shattered it, a 2nd class monster.
His pupils trembled.
"..."
From the brush behind, Bin watched the giant Magoyle with a meaningful smile.
"Alright then. Time for me to step in."
In his right hand gleamed the transparent helmet, Quinae.