Chapter 4
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Where I Opened My Eyes Again
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Even without a body of my own, I got needlessly pissed off.
Those sirs weren't yelling at me, after all.
It didn't end with just hearing sounds and understanding words.
Rumble rumble rumble—.
I felt the vibrations.
"Uwaaack—!"
"Dodge!"
"Scatter!"
An earthquake?
What the hell was going on?
Following the vibrations came a scorching body heat.
The heat rising from below made my face burn. It was body warmth.
Next came my sense of balance.
My body spun round and round, legs spreading wide. Then it leaped back dramatically. Nice one—!
Arms crossed, swinging a heavy, elongated object. A staff or spear, maybe?
Unable to see, I guessed based on other senses, but I couldn't be sure.
Whoosh—! Fweee—!
I heard the whoosh of air, felt the joints moving, the muscles' power and elasticity transmitting perfectly.
Whoosh—!
Boom—!
Every time my body spun and arms swung wide, something snapped and tore.
The impact and weight traveled up my arms. But the shock dispersed like magic before reaching my elbows.
Like the damper in a top-tier firefighter suit.
The difference was, this body dispersed the shock on its own power. How insanely developed were these muscles?
"Uwaaack—!"
Screams followed every clash.
One thing was certain: they weren't coming from me. I had sensations, but no pain.
'Who the hell is my body fighting?!'
I knew it sounded ridiculous even to me.
Unable to act on my own, I could only think based on what I heard and felt.
But then.
Thump thump—.
'A heartbeat?'
Thump thump—.
A heart was pounding.
Not mine, yet it felt like it was.
I wanted to analyze it closely, but sadly, I still had no clue what was happening.
'Huh? Huh? Whaaat?'
Wait, could this be...?
'Whoaaa! I can smell!'
If I'd had eyes and tear glands, I'd have bawled my eyes out.
It was that moving a moment.
When I was alive, I couldn't smell scents or distinguish food flavors.
But now? Sweat, dirt, iron, and blood. All crystal clear, perfectly distinct.
'Damn..., who knew blood smelled this sweet.'
If I'd been born without smell, I'd have just been curious about it.
But I'd enjoyed the bliss of scents as if it were natural, only to have it stolen away. So I'd always yearned for it.
'Ahh—, I love the smell of blood. So good. Thrilling.'
Forgetting I was in the middle of a fight, I was overcome with emotion at the returning sense.
Huuup—! Pff!
Tsssp—! Pff!
Fierce inhales and exhales confirmed sturdy lungs.
'Ah! Fresh air! Only in death do wishes come true...'
After that star tormented me, even mountains or seas didn't feel fresh. I'd just breathed to stay alive, missing healthier days.
'Feels so good... Gonna make me tear up.'
Bloody, but clean air.
The refreshing feel in my nose and lungs was electrifying.
"It's alone! Don't break the encirclement!"
"Don't slack on the offense!"
Alone? Damn, was I fighting solo?
Well, not me personally, but these guys were pretty dishonorable.
Judging by voices and footsteps, there were way more than one or two enemies.
Curious, but I couldn't see.
I felt sweat trickling, eyes hot and sticky. Yet nothing visible.
'Show me. Show me. Please show me. Just once—. Snap— Just once—. I'll just look.'
I babbled whatever came to mind.
The strongly pounding heart inexplicably excited me.
I'd grown fully accustomed to sounds and other senses.
Only one sense left.
And finally, another change arrived.
'Light! It's light! Just light!'
Whether from desperate wishing or the time being right like the others, I could finally see ahead.
...A bit to the sides too.
'A helmet, huh.'
Breathing felt stuffy, head pressed—turns out a full-face lid with only eye slits covered my face.
The world showed through the long horizontal tear.
The white blur gradually gained shape and color.
When the glare faded, the first clear sight was swords thrusting at me.
'Whoaaa! Insane speed!'
Swords flying from all sides trailed light streaks, they were so fast.
Stabbed by blades that quick, I'd die before feeling pain.
Whoosh—.
Clang clang clang clang—!
Blocked and dodged them all.
My body was even faster.
Was this humanly possible?
Moving so fast, surroundings blurred like viewing from a speeding car.
A normal human spinning at that speed would've had their brain rattled and guts twisted.
'Are those sirs enemies of this sir?'
Even at that speed, I could identify objects.
'This sir's dynamic vision is ridiculous.'
The sir whose body I'd entered, that is.
Sharing his senses, my guess felt spot on.
Filling my view: warriors in red armor.
Ah, one called them knights earlier. Knights it is, then.
Head to toe in red plate, cloaks dark crimson.
One, two, three, four, five... twenty.
One lump, two lumps, three... ten lumps...
'Insane...'
Too many to count, but my rough tally exceeded two hundred heads.
Unreal standoff.
Not all rushed at once, sure, but still cowardly.
'Ganging up like that? Bunch of jerks.'
Sir revoked.
This realism dwarfed any VR experience.
No—this was reality.
Pounding heart, legs kicking earth, arms swinging weapons.
Crisp exhales with every exertion.
Shocks on every clash.
No reason to doubt it was fake.
And the glowing body.
Some red knights had light from hands or weapons.
But this sir glowed all over.
Self-emitted light.
Active self-luminous sir!
'Ah... anyway, what the hell's going on?'
Confusing, but one thing clear.
I'd entered someone else's body.
A body not moving by my will.
I almost tried talking to the owner, Sir Amolred, but held back.
Air too good; wanted to inhale deep, but couldn't control it.
Obviously, no vocal cord control either.
'Even if I could, it'd disrupt this tense fight.'
Whoever he was, if Sir Amolred died, so would I, right? Can't interfere.
Don't wanna die twice.
No headaches, no pain anywhere.
Every breath and smell filled my head with ecstatic clean air.
I love being alive.
Win, our side! Wait, no.
Our side, win!
"Fear not! He's human too!"
Ah, a human body, huh.
"He can't kill!"
"Today we'll rip off that helmet and see your ugly mug—gurk—!"
A knight swinging his longsword while trash-talking got Sir Amolred's fist planted in his face.
'Feels good on the fists!'
Whoa, got excited.
Too hyped about being alive.
No one's watching, right?
But why can't he kill?
Thud—.
The face-smashed knight stiffened and crumpled.
Helmet with T-slit eyes and nose caved in.
"Lord Jerd!"
"Lord Jerd's down!"
That fancy long helmet plume—honorifics meant higher rank than others.
'But really not killing, huh.'
Broken limbs, dented armor and helms aplenty, but no corpses.
Skill to handle this many without killing? Or can't?
Either way, amazing.
'To wake again in a place with nonsense like this...'
More amazing: plunged into this hellish scene, yet utterly unfazed.
Unlike diving into fire or water as a firefighter, gripped by fear—this was total apathy.
'Actually, kinda fun!'
They say watching fires or fights is the best—experiencing one firsthand? Best of the best!
"Halt!"
Ah, why!
Was really enjoying the show.
Red knights withdrew in unison.
Gave me time to think.
'So shocking, yet why so calm?'
Reason was obvious.
This Sir Amolred's temperament? Valor? Something epic. We're one body now.
After that chaos, his glowing-all-over sir's heart beat calmly, once per second.
"Captain's orders! Red Dragon Knights, regroup!"
Order name's Red Dragon? Lame originally or bad translation? Either way, childish.
Enemies pulled back, brief lull.
"Hold."
The speaker stepped from the knight cluster.
Armor and cloak matched, but only one without helmet.
'Holy crap.'
Blond? Foreigner?
No.
Other knights bowing back confirmed commander.
"Listen."
The blond commander stood beyond Sir Amolred's weapon range and said 'listen.'
I peered through Sir Amolred's eye slits, studying him intently.
Long scar from forehead over eye to cheek. Scarred eye grayish.
'Blind in one eye.'
Golden locks cascaded, covering the scar.
'Tanned or naturally bronzed? Looks fit for his age.'
Old enough for creaky joints, yet wielding sword like a pro.
Showing off veteran prowess, huh?
"You..."
Sir Amolred's chin lifted slightly at the blond tanned elder's call.
What, 'you'?
"I, Red Dragon Knight Commander Marcus Zillenverg, humbly request once more—reject no—."
Whoosh—thunk—!
Sir Amolred swung his weapon wide, slamming it into the ground at his feet.
Red commander flinched back.
Posing all cool, but scared of getting hit.
'Unique weapon.'
Sir Amolred's weapon was wide, longer than a person.
Central grip about arm-length, blades extending a foot wide each side.
Like two huge swords hilt-to-hilt.
'Double-edged? No, twin blades.'
Explained the odd movements.
'Swordsmanship with a staff-long twinblade. That was it.'
Didn't know how I knew, but dead certain.
'Or I'm wrong, whatever.'
Sir Amolred swept his gaze over enemies. So I did too.
Damn punks, helmets make 'em look samey, but... they look seriously strong.
'What's with that aura they're emitting?'
If Sir Amolred's was white, theirs was blue.
Suffocating pressure. Worse than chest-crushing water pressure diving naked in a 5m pool.
Even those mighty-looking knights flinched under Sir Amolred's gaze.
How strong was he?
'So he's holding back on kills deliberately.'
Felt his valor, composure.
Curious why.
Why not kill them.
No one to explain—frustrating as hell.
Revived just to die of frustration?
"Luke Seid. Remove your helmet and surrender. Do not forsake your chance to pledge loyalty to the Empire and save the people."
Ooh—, Sir Amolred's name is Luke Seid.
What? Luke Seid?