Must Kill That Bastard Knight Captain
"I have to kill at least this bastard."
"Charge!"
The knight order members surged forward en masse behind the hero standing at the vanguard. Until the hero had arrived, the situation had been overwhelmingly disadvantageous for them—but now, even calling it a domination fell short. This was a one-sided slaughter.
And the reason such a feat was possible came down entirely to the one man at the forefront.
"Keep your heads in the game, all of you. These fuckers aren't strong individually, but they come at you relentlessly from your blind spots."
Even as he fought, Capier bellowed the warning to his allies. But no sooner had the words left his mouth than one of the knights found himself on the brink of death.
"Gaaah!"
The knight had deflected a club swinging from the front, leaving him unable to spot the goblin leaping up from below with a dagger in hand. Just as the blade was about to pierce his eye, he sensed his end and squeezed his eyes shut.
Clang!
Krrrk...
But instead of the knight dying, the goblin that had lunged from below let out a gruesome screech and crumpled to the ground.
When the knight turned his head, there stood the hero.
"Get your shit together. Even if a dagger's coming for your eye, don't close them—keep 'em open. A mere eyelid won't stop it anyway. Stare straight ahead and think about your next move. That's your best shot at surviving."
"Th-thank you..."
The knight tried to express his gratitude to Capier, who had saved his life, but the hero was already turning away as if too busy to linger.
Soon after, Capier rescued another knight who had nearly been cleaved apart by an orc and shouted once more.
"Orcs swing their clubs with massive wind-ups because of the weapons' weight. It's not that the power freezes you up and makes it hard to dodge—focus properly from the start, and their speed's nothing you can't evade. No matter how strong they are, it means shit if they don't hit you. Don't fear them—press in closer. Giving ground against long weapons only puts you at a disadvantage."
"Thank you... This grace... we'll repay it..."
Once again, Capier departed without a word.
As the battle raged on, Capier cut down enemies at the front while instantly dashing back to save any ally in the rear who seemed about to fall. He attended to both the foes ahead and his comrades behind, shuttling between the two at impossible speeds. It was a sight that truly befitted the title of hero.
"Wh-what the hell..."
The knights fighting from the rear began gasping in shock one by one. Under normal circumstances, they should have lost at least several dozen. After all, more than a hundred monsters under a Demon King's corps commander had fallen—surely their side would have suffered comparable losses.
Yet not a single casualty had occurred on the battlefield.
'If the hero hadn't been here, at least half of us would've died. Looking out for others on the battlefield risks your own neck—why's he doing it for strangers like us...'
These were battle-hardened veterans who had fought countless engagements. They might not have faced a Demon King's corps commander and his beasts often, but they had experience and instincts to draw on.
Even so, none of them had ever witnessed a battle unfold like this. On any battlefield, even the strongest warrior could die in an instant if they showed the slightest opening. Protecting others in such chaos was simply impossible.
'Just how many battles has he fought...'
One man. He had saved dozens in this field. And with every rescue, he offered pointed advice.
It was utterly impossible without fully analyzing the entire battlefield. Some knights were already realizing it: his strength wasn't mere talent.
You could tell just from watching him. He had fought and killed endlessly across countless battlefields, far beyond what they could imagine. This wasn't the sharpened sense of innate genius—it was pure instinct.
His style focused solely on survival and slaying the enemy. Not some noble pursuit of victory. This was the way of the dullard who clawed desperately to surpass their limits through effort.
The knights could see it plainly. How many defeats, how many frustrations had forged that power? They could infer it from his fluid responses to every situation.
And separately, they sensed he was pushing himself hard to save their lives.
"Raaagh!"
As these thoughts swirled, the knights' morale surged even higher. They charged forward, determined not to be a burden.
Someone raced madly through a dense forest thicket.
"Huff... fuck... no way... I can't win..."
It was Lustran. After fleeing the battlefield, he had desperately bolted backward.
Stumble.
His feet ground to a halt.
Not because he wanted to fight the hero. The Demon King's words had simply flashed through his mind.
— Beibaros fled the battle but earned great merit, so I've decided to forgive him. But if I hear that any other bastard ran from the hero or the knight orders, I'll make you suffer agony so excruciating you'd beg for death. I guarantee it—you'll plead for me to kill you.
Shiver, shiver...
Lustran's entire body trembled violently. The hero was powerful, yes. But the Demon King? "Powerful" didn't cover it—"terrifying" fit better.
Considering his cruelty, he'd torture with pain worse than death before ripping him apart later.
Step... step...
As if entranced, Lustran turned back toward the battlefield.
"To... survive... I need at least the knight captain's head..."
He had to claim some achievement. Reporting that he'd encountered the hero and fled empty-handed? His fate was obvious.
Lustran dragged his unwilling feet back to the battlefield.
"Waaah! Advance!!!"
"F-fuck... how..."
Returning, Lustran's jaw dropped in disbelief. Moments ago, hundreds of monsters had swarmed the field—now, only a few dozen goblins remained.
With the hero present, he'd expected heavy losses. So it wasn't the dead monsters that shocked him.
He gaped at the knight order members, all standing unharmed.
"Why the hell are their numbers unchanged...?"
They were weaklings he could crush effortlessly. Individually capable, perhaps, but these were beasts he'd trained himself. Unless facing the Demon King or a knight captain, hundreds dead should have claimed half the knights.
Unbelievable—but the scene before his eyes was undeniable reality.
"The knight captain... I have to kill that bastard at least..."
Lustran scanned for the knight captain and soon spotted him unconscious. Oddly, women he pegged as a priestess and saintess guarded him nearby—likely the hero's companions. No matter. A swift ambush could pierce his neck and allow escape.
Lustran crept closer. When the distance closed sufficiently, he lunged.
"Everyone, defensive formation!"
Frensia, spotting him first, shouted. The others swiftly erected barriers of divine power.
Clang!
They blocked Lustran's initial strike, but it was a hastily conjured shield—less than a second to cast. Defensive barriers scaled with casting time; this one's durability was predictably low.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Shatter!
Relentless claw strikes finally shattered it.
"Kehhehe... fuck, I'll kill this one before I go."
Lustran briefly considered slaughtering the saintess and priestess too, but it'd delay his escape. And killing the hero's women? He'd be hunted relentlessly, no matter where he fled. Better to claim the knight captain—valuable enough for merit, not so much to enrage the hero beyond reason—then bolt.
"Die!!"
Lustran raised his razor-sharp claws to plunge them into Second Knight Order Captain Laterion's heart.
But the barriers had thrown off his angle slightly. No issue—even a gut skewering would be fatal.
"P-protect the captain!"
The battlefield was nearly cleared of monsters—only a handful left, countable on two hands. A rear-guard knight spotted Lustran.
The others turned and rushed, but it was too late.
Crunch...
Lustran's claws tore into Laterion's abdomen with a horrific sound.