Chapter 18
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: A Decisive Victory
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*Thud, thud.*
This was the first time Demian had taken the lead since the platoon battles began.
As the platoon leader, he’d had to command his squad and protect the flag…
That had its own advantages, of course.
But Demian had already shown more than enough of what he could do as a platoon leader.
‘Now…’
*Srrk.*
It was the final platoon battle.
And Platoon 1 was on the attack.
If he could make a solid impression on the instructors from the front lines now.
‘Top trainee, confirmed.’
Especially if he won against Platoon 3, where Apel was, he could definitively widen the gap between them.
‘Sorry, but don’t hold it against me.’
Apel had immense talent.
Even if left to his own devices, he would rise through the ranks and reach great heights.
He might not get an artifact here, but that wouldn't change anything in the long run.
“Everyone, I intend to end this fight in an instant.”
Now that he was at the front, he had no intention of holding back.
At Demian’s words, the platoon members all nodded with serious expressions.
Demian said,
“We're going at top speed from the start. Everyone, focus and keep up.”
“Roger!”
“Hehehe, let's do this!”
As Platoon 1 quickly formed a triangular formation, Platoon 3 also formed a square formation and began preparing their defense.
He would have preferred a different formation, not a triangle, if he had his way.
‘But we have to use what we've been taught, so there's no choice.’
Demian saw Apel inside the square formation.
Perhaps because he had used up a lot of stamina in the previous attack, he had moved to the center.
They probably intended to use Apel to protect the flag.
And that meant.
‘...A direct confrontation with him is unavoidable.’
To capture the flag, he would have to fight Apel.
“Hoo…”
As the whole situation came into view, Demian let out a short breath and gripped his spear.
Then, he erased all thoughts of instructors and scores from his mind.
In this moment.
‘I will win.’
He filled his mind with only one thought: crushing his opponent.
“Platoon 1 attacks, Platoon 3 defends. The final platoon battle begins!”
At the instructor's signal, Demian, at the head of the formation, began to move.
*Thump!*
His pace was neither too fast nor too slow.
He maintained a speed that his squad could follow, yet was intimidating enough to pressure the defending Platoon 3.
At that exact pace, Demian charged toward Platoon 3's defensive line from the tip of the triangular formation.
“Th-those bastards… why are they coming so fast?”
Surprised by the faster-than-expected speed, the members of Platoon 3 gripped their shields and spears with flustered expressions.
But the strange thing was, even while charging at such a speed, their formation didn't break.
‘Impressive.’
‘…This is no joke.’
Everyone tried to swallow their words.
To say it out loud now would feel like admitting defeat.
But then…
*Fwoosh!*
At the head of the charging Platoon 1, Demian suddenly accelerated, closing the distance.
And from a range where his spear could reach.
*Wooooong.*
Gripping the spear with both hands, Demian's eyes flashed.
‘In one blow…’
I'll break through!
*Kwang!*
The gap where the soldiers' shields met.
As he thrust his mana-concentrated spear into that spot, their wooden shields were torn apart.
Demian's spear pierced through as if it had gone straight through the shields.
“Ugh, ack!”
“What the!”
“G-grab that spear! Hurry!”
As the spear broke through, the panicked members of Platoon 3 shouted loudly.
If that spear that had entered their formation were to run wild…
“Hyaap!”
Someone lunged to grab the spear, but the spear moved first.
*Thwack!*
“Keuk!”
“Kugh!”
The moment the spear, now between the soldiers, swung rapidly from side to side, an opening was created.
The two soldiers struck by the spear shaft crumpled to the side, their faces contorted in pain.
An intense pain shot through their sides and arms where the spear had hit, immobilizing them.
“Breach!”
Demian shouted.
*Fw-fw-fw-fwoosh!*
Through the opening Demian created, the spearmen of Platoon 1 pushed forward, attacking the soldiers in front before the gap could be closed.
“Demian!”
“Get in here, quick!”
The squad members who had jammed their shields into the opening to widen it shouted loudly at Demian.
But before their shouts even erupted.
‘Already on my way…!’
Leaping through the gap like a leopard, Demian shoved aside the Platoon 3 members blocking his path and pushed deeper inside.
“S-stop that guy!”
“He won't have room to move! We have to take him down now!”
“Knock him down!”
As he entered Platoon 3's formation, four men rushed at Demian simultaneously.
*Sreuk.*
Demian's gaze fell upon the charging Platoon 3 members.
Their gazes.
The direction of their steps.
The angle of their shoulders, the twist of their waists.
In an instant, the information flooded into his mind through his eyes.
*Whoosh!*
In the blink of an eye.
Having grasped their movements, Demian immediately lowered his stance and spun.
*Swish!*
“Huh?!”
A spear thrust forward struck a comrade on the other side.
Hands reaching out to grab Demian grasped at empty air.
It was a movement like that of a ghost.
For a moment, the members of Platoon 3 felt as if Demian had vanished.
But in that instant.
*Thwack-thwack-thwack!*
“Aargh!”
“Gyaah!”
“Agh! My ankle!”
From his low stance, Demian spun and swept their ankles with his spear.
As all four men were lifted into the air and landed hard on their backsides, Demian shouted loudly.
“Platoon 1!”
“We're already here!”
“Split their formation! Shields up!”
*Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!*
Centering on Demian, the members of Platoon 1 surrounded him on both sides, raising their shields and splitting Platoon 3's formation in half.
It was the same tactic they had used against Platoons 2 and 4.
*Thud!*
“Keuk! These bastards…!”
The knocked-back members of Platoon 3 struggled to push back, but they couldn't break through the firmly planted shieldmen of Platoon 1.
“…No way.”
Gerard wore an expression of disbelief at the sight of his formation being split in half in an instant.
Was this really a level of skill that trainees in a training camp could achieve?
In that situation, Apel simply stared at Demian without a word.
“He's the main threat anyway. As long as we stop him, they won't take the flag.”
Though their formation was split, their forces were still intact.
Apel gripped his spear and stepped forward.
“I will stop him.”
“…Apel.”
Gerard clutched the flag he was holding.
To have to rely on Apel, who was five years his junior, in a situation like this.
He felt so ashamed he couldn't even lift his head.
Apel walked toward Demian.
In response, Demian watched the approaching Apel.
A direct confrontation with him had been unavoidable from the start.
‘The future Grand General…’
He thought that if he was ever going to defeat him, now was the chance.
‘It's not like we're meeting as enemies on the battlefield.’
Right here, right now.
‘I'll give it my all to break you.’
The moment Demian's eyes gleamed.
*Fwoosh!*
It was Apel who attacked first.
“Hup!”
With a short breath, Apel kicked off the ground and lunged. Demian shifted his body to the side.
*Swish!*
Apel's spear shot out in a straight line, cutting through the air.
But the first move was a feint.
*Tap!*
Quickly sidestepping, Apel angled his spear and aimed for Demian.
‘I can see it.’
In the future, Apel would become much faster and possess far greater strength.
‘Besides, his specialty is the sword.’
Of course, he was exceptionally skilled, beyond comparison with the other trainees.
But it didn't work on Demian.
*Clack!*
Lightly parrying the spear to the side, Demian's own spear shot out as if drawn by a magnet, aiming for the back of Apel's hand.
Surprised by the unexpected target, Apel frowned and quickly withdrew his spear.
But that was Demian's plan.
The moment Apel slightly pulled back his spear and retreated.
*Swhoooosh!*
Demian's spear shot out in a straight line, aiming for Apel's chest.
A mana-infused strike.
Apel's eyes flashed as he swung his spear upward from below, knocking away Demian's incoming thrust.
*Craack!*
A sound like a spear shattering rang out.
Apel's expression tightened slightly.
The spear shaft vibrated violently, and a tingling numbness spread through the palm of his hand.
It was a much stronger blow than he had expected.
‘He can wield mana this skillfully?’
Was that guy not a commoner?
Or was he like me…?
His mind grew complicated.
But there was no time to think.
*Fwoosh!*
Seizing the momentum, Demian closed in quickly, unleashing a flurry of spear thrusts.
*Th-th-th-th-thwack!*
Apel hurriedly retreated.
It wasn't a level of attack he could simply block.
‘How…’
How can such spearmanship exist?
Although spearmanship wasn't his specialty, he had learned various weapons and tactics since he could walk.
‘But why…’
How could there be such a huge wall to overcome in a mere training camp?
A wall so high it felt impossible to measure.
To Apel, right now, Demian was that wall.
*Wooooong!*
*Swhoooooooosh!*
As the attack came in with a slight vibration, Apel hastily raised his spear.
‘Can't dodge…!’
He instinctively blocked the attack with his spear shaft. But…
*Crack!*
Apel's spear broke.
“Aargh!”
Apel was thrown backward, crying out in pain.
*Thud.*
Apel, who had fallen completely to the ground, hurriedly tried to get up, but.
*Flutter!*
The flag was already in Demian's hand.
Gerard, collapsed at his feet, seemed to have lost consciousness completely and couldn't get up.
Then, Demian raised the flag.
And at that sight.
“W-Waaaaaaaah!”
“We won!”
The members of Platoon 1 roared, savoring the joy of victory.
In contrast, Platoon 3 looked somewhat gloomy.
“Everyone fought hard.”
“…Apel, sorry. We couldn't hold them off properly.”
“Is Gerard okay? Looked like he passed out for a second.”
Rather than wallowing in the sorrow of defeat, they were encouraging each other and soothing their disappointment.
“…”
Apel looked at Demian.
Demian looked back at Apel.
Their gazes met in mid-air.
*Ssk.*
Apel approached Demian and extended his hand.
“Congratulations. But next time… I won't lose.”
“Let's fight on the same side next time. I don't think I could beat you twice.”
At Demian's words, Apel let out a small laugh.
“Don't be modest.”
Apel lightly tapped Demian's chest and turned away.
‘Even though I lost this time…’
His eyes, filled with determination, flashed coldly.
Demian watched Apel turn away and gave an inscrutable smile.
‘Did I… really beat Apel Vanstriol?’
Perhaps this incident would turn him into even more of a monster.
You never know how things will turn out.
‘But for now.’
“Waaaaaaaah!”
When Demian turned his head, his platoon members were rushing toward him, shouting.
“We won! Bwahahahaha!”
Everyone knew exactly what this platoon battle meant.
The joy born from effort was all the more precious.
With the battle completely over, the observing instructors also rose from their seats.
“A meaningful platoon battle.”
“If we saw this level of performance every time, we could make a name for ourselves as the best training camp in the kingdom. It's a bit of a shame.”
“Hehehe, still, watching those kids makes me feel motivated.”
“Let's see the rest of the training period through to a good end.”
Half of it was over; two weeks remained.
At Raymond's words, the instructors' eyes gleamed. And.
“…”
Leonhard was simply watching Demian in silence.