Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Storm
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Outside the walls collapsed due to the giant's appearance. The Strange Family's knights spread out in a semicircular formation, awaiting the enemy.
"The foes we'll face from now on are veterans hardened on battlefields you've never experienced."
Sssswk—.
The butler Debery drew a slender rapier as thin as a rose stem.
"Never underestimate them. Show no mercy to the enemy."
The knights responded in unison.
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
Whether the enemy is strong or weak, fight with all your might.
This was a phrase drilled into every Strange Family knight from apprenticeship to mid-level, until their ears blistered.
Clank, clank-clank-clank.
The metallic sound of the knights forming a shield wall rang in their ears. Debery looked at their eyes and nodded in satisfaction.
"I know most of you haven't seen real combat yet."
Debery planted the flag in the center of the formation.
Thud.
"Use this chance to feel the weight of death!"
The knights responded together.
"Understood!"
"Understood!"
Debery signaled the knight captain.
Receiving his cue, the knight captain pulled his helmet low and raised his sword overhead.
"Swords ready!"
The knights echoed back.
"Swords ready!"
"Swords ready!"
The Strange Family never yields to the enemy. Even against stronger foes.
Rumble...
The ground shook.
Hundreds of enemy soldiers charging from inside the walls came into view.
They wore armor with distinct emblems marking different units—wolves, oxen, sheep, or skulls representing regional traits.
The knight captain led with a massive tower shield covering his body, sword drawn back for a thrust, waiting for the enemy.
"Battle stations."
The Strange knights peeked only their faces over their shields without reply, awaiting the next order.
"Charge...!"
That was when.
The moment Bourbon's mercenaries began pouring out of the castle, the Strange knights tightened their formation and charged.
"Waaaaah!"
Their war cries filled the battlefield. Leading them, the knight captain collided with the enemy—not with swords, but shields.
Ku-woong!
The enemy soldiers fell without swinging once. The mercenaries fired arrows and bullets from the rear in retaliation.
Pew! Pew! Bang-bang!
But all were blocked by shields, rendered useless. The only ones hit by flesh and lead were their own comrades.
"Hey, you bastards, aim before you shoot! You trying to blow off our heads?!"
"Those crazy fuckers fight like madmen just because we're behind!"
"Stop yapping and get up! Lying there like idiots blocks our advance!"
A smile crept onto Debery's lips as he read the battlefield flow from the rear.
He had anticipated the mercenaries' movements and relayed them. The enemy excelled in individual combat but became a rabble in unit fights.
So, lure them to clump together as much as possible.
'As expected, the Young Master has the Strange blood running thick.'
To grasp the situation and pierce the enemy's moves at such a young age.
He was impressed.
Everything so far had unfolded exactly as Berddin planned, without a hitch.
"Seal the gap!"
Debery bellowed. The knight captain echoed the order.
"Seal the gap!!"
The knights roared in unison, shields forward, charging at the fallen mercenaries.
Thud-thud-thud.
Ku-woong!
Without hesitation, they thrust swords through shield gaps, stabbing the mercenaries.
Kwachik!
Then shoved the corpses to block the path.
"Push!!!"
The mercenaries in the center, unable to steady themselves between front and rear, were forced back into the crushed gap.
"Uwaaah! S-stop pushing! There's no more room behind!"
With the front sealed, the Strange knights shifted from defense to offense.
"Lord Rox, we're ready."
Rox whispered to his clown Guardian Spirit.
"No messing around this time?"
"A-alright, got it!"
"Ignore me again, and no more Descents for you."
"Haa... This guy. Why can't you trust your own Guardian Spirit? Don't worry, leave it to me. Just attack those mercenaries and Bourbon knights over there, right?"
"...Yeah."
"Okay, great. Here I come?!"
Rox eyed his unreliable Guardian Spirit dubiously but reluctantly raised both hands overhead.
"Come on in."
Fwaaaah!
Rox's Descent with the clown Guardian Spirit began. A sight even Berddin had never seen.
His hair turned red, shooting skyward like struck by lightning.
"...Phew! Been a while—shall we play for real?"
"S-save meeee!!!"
Screams rippled like waves across Legion Castle.
Giant bugs appeared from nowhere, assaulting the Bourbon knights, while outside, dead mercenaries rose to attack their own allies.
What in the world was happening? The Imperial troops guarding Legion plunged into chaos.
'Who's enemy and who's ally?'
Normally, they'd see monsters as foes and knights as friends.
"All units, stand by and observe—do not engage!"
The Imperial commander tasked with Legion's defense maintained neutrality.
And rightly so—the knights meant to protect citizens were attacking them instead.
Conversely, the invading bugs only fended off charging adventurers, showing no aggression toward civilians.
"What the hell is going on?"
The Imperial commander swallowed dryly.
"Monsters are invading—why aren't we helping?!"
One with feathers on his helmet demanded of the commander.
"I don't know."
"What?"
"Who's on our side."
"H-how can you say that? Monsters are the enemy, obviously!"
"You think so? Then let me ask: those knights who dragged peaceful women from their homes and beat them moments ago."
The commander pointed at a fallen Bourbon knight.
"Are they allies or enemies?"
"...Pardon?"
"Every knight opposing the monsters did the same. Sure, under some pretext of searching, but they killed or trampled innocents."
"B-but that's—"
"And those bugs protected such citizens."
The vice-commander opened his mouth to retort, then shook his head, frowning.
"Then what do we do?"
"I said, observe."
"...If things go wrong, you'll take responsibility."
The commander twitched his brow unpleasantly at the words, then turned away.
"Fine. But if my judgment proves right, you won't stay in my unit."
The vice-commander clenched his fist.
"Do as you will."
Time passed, and the battle's momentum tilted decisively.
Unable to withstand the mutant ants' onslaught, most Bourbon knights fled or fell.
The giant bugs that subdued them burrowed into the earth and vanished without a trace.
Clang! Clang-clang! Clang!
Dozens, hundreds, thousands.
How many clashes had we exchanged? I dueled Baron Monkle until my breath burned at my throat.
Hoo—
"Not bad."
He looked at me with satisfaction. He was just as spent.
"Young punk's got a mouth on him."
"That's you. Between us, who should set an example?"
"Ha! Obviously you. Direct lineage or not, look at our age gap."
"If age determines rank, you'd bow to the beggar at the market gate."
"...Talkative for a dead man soon. This time, I'll take your legs."
Monkle drew his blade back, assuming stance. We'd inflicted equal wounds so far. No clear superior yet.
'Purely swordsmanship, I'm superior—the one who reached Sword King.'
Unfortunately, this young body lacked to fully manifest techniques.
Hands and feet still too short.
I read his moves first earlier, but his counterstrike hit me first.
'No helping it.'
Current Baron Monkle was quasi-Swordmaster. A paper-thin gap from me, the past Sword King.
This immature body's limits closed that gap.
'Well.'
Still, I'd win this fight.
'The direct and collateral line difference is absolute.'
His swordplay might outshine mine now, but his latent Aura max was laughable.
'So.'
My surefire win: drag it into a prolonged war of attrition.
"Shall we resume?"
Monkle advanced first.
His surging Aura signaled full power this time.
'Coming strong.'
Pop!
He kicked off the giant's shoulder, soaring, slashing upward hugely.
Whoosh—roooar!
"Not today."
I stepped back, slamming Mistilteinn downward.
Clang!
The blades clashed midair. Black-red Aura swirled, repelling each other.
Kreeeek.
"Today, I'll kill you and your father. And take Strange's throne."
Monkle tensed his eyes.
"If you can."
I smirked at his face, then focused Mana in one hand and incanted.
"Lacrimis Flamma."
Droplet-shaped Mana gathered in my palm and burst.
Bang!
Scattering Mana engulfed Baron Monkle.
"?!"
Impressive as expected.
He reflexively whipped his cloak, blocking my spell.
Flutter.
Sizzle!
'Lacrimis Flamma.'
The ancient spell Brunhilt taught me, dubbed "Tears of Flame."
Caught off-guard by the unexpected magic and its power, he involuntarily retreated.
"Mana just now..."
Monkle's eyes darted.
Using Aura and Mana together must've muddled his head.
I seized the opening, charging and swinging.
'His judgment's clouded.'
Chance now.
Shwick—!
Monkle read me and countered instantly.
Swoosh—
Our blades crossed in flight.
In that instant, darkness and flame devoured each other as Aura raged.
Splat!
The fight ended.
Victory decided.
One blade pierced the opponent's heart.
Past Swordmaster me versus current Swordmaster pretender.
"...Well done, Monestier."
Baron Monkle grinned at me, then dropped to both knees and toppled forward.
Thud.
Two men watching Berddin and Monkle's duel conversed.
"How 'bout it? Help?"
The tall man wrapped in bandages asked. The black-clad elderly man nodded.
"Monkle was right. My judgment erred. Looks like we handle him today."
"Yeah, then finish quick and head to the tower. Dealing with Roys'll take time."
"Good."
Monestier and his "party member" prepared to ambush Berddin.
The black-haired elder had intended to watch Berddin's growth but changed mind after that fight.
'Cut the bud before it grows.'
Too talented to raise for fun—even a day or two more, and he'd surpass them.
As the black-haired elder and bandaged man moved to kill Berddin.
"Halt."
"......!"
An unexpected figure blocked them.
Caw, caw, caaaw!
The Strange Family's judge, called Red Filial Bird.
Valentine de Strange.
"One more step, and both your heads roll."
She had come to Legion herself.