Chapter 333: Thirty Reinforcements (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 333: Thirty Reinforcements (3)
The shaman's blood was special.
Laden with a powerful curse, it scattered in dark red droplets as the Orc Shaman's head shattered. The curse's purpose was to momentarily bind its target. Now that Roman Dmitry was right in front of him, Kalot knew this was his golden opportunity to strike.
In that split second, his mind became a tangled mess.
Reason screamed at him to strike with all his might, but his trembling eyes could not translate that thought into action.
‘If I attack, I die.’
It was pure instinct.
Kalot.
He had felt this way only once before in his life. His opponent back then had been Graxar.
At the time, Graxar was nothing more than an ordinary Orc. Kalot, a proud Orc warrior, had accepted his challenge with a sneer. The result was disastrous. No matter how desperately Kalot swung his greatsword in a frenzy of rage, none of his attacks landed. He spat up blood. When his arm was snapped and his face trampled into the dirt, Kalot learned firsthand what it felt like to have terror engraved into the very marrow of his bones.
It was just like that day.
The moment he attacked Roman Dmitry, his own head would surely be severed by the very sword that had slaughtered his kin.
‘...To think such a human exists in this world.’
It was certain. Roman Dmitry was a beast.
And not just any beast, but a ferocious predator at the absolute apex of the food chain. As a fellow beast, the terror Kalot felt was magnified. Just as Kalot could effortlessly slaughter hundreds of herbivores on his own, he realized that to Roman Dmitry, he was merely one more Orc in the teeming horde.
Time slowed down.
As the Shaman's head shattered and Roman Dmitry was showered in blood, Kalot turned on his heel.
‘I can't die like this!’
He ran. He didn't look back.
Terrified that he would be brutally butchered if caught, he screamed at his subordinates to fight to the bitter end while fleeing as fast as his legs could carry him. His warrior's pride was thrown to the dirt. Just like when he had knelt and sworn loyalty to Graxar, Roman Dmitry was an existence that defied all common sense.
The problem was, there was no escape route.
Roman Dmitry blocked the castle gate, and fleeing to the rear was impossible because Dmitry's soldiers had already infiltrated through the ice cave. Escaping by normal means was out of the question. With every possible passage completely blocked, Kalot frantically looked around.
Suddenly, an idea struck him.
It was extremely risky, but considering the nature of humans, it was his best shot.
"…Chwiik, I must survive."
Kalot ran swiftly. The direction he fled toward was one of the buildings they had designated as a livestock pen.
* * *
It went exactly as planned.
The rear infiltration team secured the ice cave, eliminated the guarding Orcs, and freed the prisoners locked in the livestock pens. There were no major hurdles in the process. Not only did Dmitry's soldiers dispatch the enemies swiftly and decisively, but Roman Dmitry had also drawn the vast majority of the Orcs toward the castle gate.
"Group 1, continue to focus on finding prisoners. Group 2, mobilize the freed prisoners and head to the castle gate with me."
"Understood."
McBurney took command. It was a testament to his proven abilities; at his command, the soldiers moved in perfect unison.
The tide of battle turned.
The former prisoners poured into the streets, each grabbing whatever could serve as a weapon and raising their voices.
"Attack!"
"Kill every last one of those Orc bastards!"
The Orcs were thrown into a panic.
Dealing with Roman Dmitry alone was overwhelming, and now a mob of vengeful humans was descending upon them from behind. With the death of the Orc Shaman, the Berserker state had already worn off. The Orcs hastily tried to block the human onslaught, but unlike their first encounter, the humans' venomous rage exploded.
"Die!"
Thwack!
A man swung a hammer, striking an Orc squarely on the head. Staggered by the surprise attack, the Orc's legs wobbled, but it still swung its sword at the man with eyes full of rage.
But then—
Stab! Stab! Stab!
"Die! Just die!"
"You killed my comrades!"
Other humans swarmed the Orc, plunging their blades into its body.
Even as the Orc coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground, the venomous gleam in the humans' eyes did not fade. Men and women alike fought. Though many had limbs severed and died spewing blood from the Orcs' counterattacks, they charged forward recklessly, as if they themselves were under the Berserker curse.
Their time in captivity had been short.
However, watching people who had been breathing right beside them just moments ago get flayed and slaughtered had left an immense rage in their hearts. Normal wars ended with the death of the opponent. But the Orcs did not stop at victory; they reduced living beings to mere livestock and food. The humans had sworn to exact their revenge by any means necessary if given the chance.
Roman Dmitry had set the stage for them.
Faced with a mob driven mad by spite, the Orcs were overwhelmed despite their superior numbers.
Furthermore, the three men, including Roman Dmitry, remained terrifyingly lethal.
In the rear, powerful warriors like Ares, alongside the people of Luna, were running rampant. The once-triumphant Orcs suddenly found themselves cornered. Only then did they realize that their commander, Kalot, had vanished. Since a few had witnessed him fleeing, the Orcs knew this was already a lost battle.
Yet, surrender was not an option.
From the moment they had turned humans into food, this war could only end with the total annihilation of one side.
Flash.
Slash!
Caden severed an Orc's neck. His blood boiled.
This war. He had thought they had lost.
When he first heard from Sebastian that Luna's Fortress had fallen, he believed reclaiming it was an impossible task. But not anymore. Roman Dmitry had turned the tide against all odds. With only thirty men in tow, he was leading this absurd war toward a victory for Luna.
He had doubted him.
He hadn't believed.
Though it should have been impossible in the world of Arcadia, Roman Dmitry was a man who performed miracles as if they were second nature.
Splatter!
Blood sprayed in all directions. With a face drenched in blood, Caden let out his overflowing emotions.
"Follow Dmitry!"
He raised his sword high. After cutting down a charging Orc, he raised his weapon once more and roared with desperate fury, as if today were his last.
"Follow Dmitry!"
In that moment, Caden's emotion proved contagious.
Even those groaning in pain on the ground, and those locked in fierce combat with the Orcs, grit their teeth and responded to Caden's rallying cry.
"Follow Dmitry!"
"Follow Dmitry!"
From this moment on, they would seize peace with their own hands.
* * *
Both sides knew. This was a fight where surrender was not permitted.
The Orcs struggled desperately to the bitter end, and the battle finally concluded only after every last one of them had been slaughtered.
"Pant, pant."
"Whew."
Standing atop a mountain of corpses, Chris and Kevin caught their breath.
They were utterly exhausted, their breath catching in their throats. Though they had traversed countless battlefields following Roman Dmitry, facing an endless army that filled their entire field of vision was a rare experience. A single mistake could have cost them their lives. Yet, on their faces, a flicker of joy shone—the pride of surviving to the end and securing victory.
Always, Roman Dmitry had embarked on reckless operations alone. He did so because he deemed others would only get in his way, but this time, he had brought Chris and Kevin along.
They were thrilled.
Because it meant he trusted them.
While entering the jaws of death might terrify some, for these two men, who each harbored their own ambitions, it was a source of immense joy. Looking around, there were no more living Orcs in sight. Having slaughtered nearly ten thousand Orcs, Luna's Fortress was literally drenched in blood and littered with corpses.
The joy of victory was short-lived. McBurney approached Roman Dmitry.
"My Lord, we have a problem."
"What is it?"
"The Orc commander named Kalot has taken over one of the buildings where the prisoners were held and is holding them hostage. If we leave him be, all the prisoners might be killed."
He remembered.
Right after he killed the Orc Shaman. The face of the Orc who had fled in a frantic panic, as if his tail were on fire.
Roman Dmitry flicked the blood off his sword.
"Lead the way to that building."
* * *
They arrived at the building.
Just as McBurney had reported, Kalot was screaming at the top of his lungs in front of the door where the prisoners were locked inside.
"Chwiik! Roman Dmitry! My terms are simple! If you do not guarantee my safety, I will detonate this magic bomb and kill all the prisoners! Chwiik! I will give you ten minutes to decide. Within that time, secure a way for me to leave this place safely!"
Upon spotting Roman Dmitry, Kalot put on a fierce, murderous front. Holding up the detonator for the magic bomb he had secured beforehand, he showed his firm resolve to press it at any moment.
Kalot knew the nature of humans well. They were a weak race, unable to show resolve when their own kind, like these prisoners, were held hostage. Kalot targeted this weakness. Humans, especially, could not easily abandon prisoners due to political reasons, and he assumed Roman Dmitry would be no different.
After all, he was also human. Even if he had come from beyond the Endless Mountains, Kalot did not think his fundamental human nature would be any different.
"Are you trying to strike a deal with me?"
"Chwiik! Yes! I want a deal!"
"Amusing." Roman Dmitry smirked.
Kalot did not know the truth. The reason he had survived until now was not because he trusted his instinctive judgment.
"Do you know why I didn't kill you?"
"Chwiik! What nonsense are you talking about?!"
The Shaman's curse.
It had possessed absolutely no binding power over Roman Dmitry.
Curses and magic. While magic might have been an unfamiliar realm to the Heavenly Demon Baek Joong-hyuk, he had extensive experience with curse-like techniques. Notorious shamans had once targeted Baek Joong-hyuk's life. Amidst their curses and hexes, Baek Joong-hyuk had simply severed all their heads, rising to the absolute peak through sheer, overwhelming power.
Therefore, the curse did not work. It wasn't that Roman Dmitry couldn't pursue Kalot; he simply saw no need to.
"Because you are not worth the effort. A weak commander who abandons his subordinates and flees before the battle is even over—your existence has no bearing on this war. That is why I did not bother chasing you as you ran away in terror."
Kalot had been mistaken. The reason Roman Dmitry had closed the distance between them earlier was not to deal with the commander, but because he realized the Orc Shaman had cast Berserker.
If he had wanted Kalot's life, Kalot would have perished the moment the Orc Shaman's head was blown off.
"You are nothing more than that. No matter how much you struggle, you cannot change a thing."
"Chwiik! You bastard!"
Kalot's face flushed red with rage. It was blatant contempt. Even if he were to die, he could not tolerate being treated like this.
He lost his mind. Kalot puffed out his chest and brandished the detonator for all to see.
"Chwiik! Your arrogant words will kill these peo—Aaargh?!"
Flash.
In an instant, blood sprayed.
The fingers he had placed on the switch were severed. As he tried to grab the detonator with a panicked expression, his entire wrist was sliced off as well. The detonator clattered to the ground. Knowing it was his only weapon, Kalot reached out with his other hand, desperate to grab it. But once again, his efforts were thwarted. With his other hand severed as well, Kalot looked up at Roman Dmitry with a face full of despair.
It was unbelievable. The distance between them was too far. He had judged that Roman could not attack him from there, so how on earth had he been struck?
"I told you. You can't do anything."
* * *
Silence fell.
The people of Luna.
Dmitry's soldiers.
They watched the scene unfold in silence. As Kalot thrashed around, having lost both arms, Roman Dmitry approached and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.
Grab.
"Chwiik! Let go! Let me go!"
He squirmed. As he was dragged along, Kalot struggled desperately.
"Kalot. There is something you must do now."
The crowd parted, clearing a path. They stepped outside. The people catching their breath after the battle spotted Kalot, their eyes instantly turning murderous.
Kalot!
Everyone remembered him. When their comrades' flesh was being flayed, Kalot had stood there holding the blade, cackling gleefully.
"From this moment on, I will present you as a gift to the people of the Luna Kingdom who lost their families."
At those words, the struggling Kalot looked up at Roman Dmitry with eyes consumed by terror.
It was certain.
Roman Dmitry was...
An entirely different breed of existence from any human he had ever encountered.