Yuri gripped his sword.
The Imperial Knight Order was infiltrating from all directions, targeting the top of the walls.
The Knights of Briol were fighting better than expected, but it was by no means an easy battle.
Suddenly, within his sword sense, Yuri caught the presence of a powerful aura.
His gaze turned toward it.
An Imperial knight in black armor was stepping on a launching device, leaping up with ease.
Unlike other knights, his movements were relaxed.
From midair, he checked the spot where he would land, then descended stably, his cloak fluttering.
Two nearby Knights of Briol rushed at him.
Bang.
And at that moment, the two were sent flying.
Yuri's lips curled upward in a cold smile.
His sword aura began to burn with a murky hue.
The battlefield was a place where one killed or was killed, yet witnessing the death of one's comrades firsthand could not help but stir emotions. Yuri advanced toward the enemy.
The sharp energy radiating from him made the knights standing between him and his foe instinctively step aside.
The opponent, helmetless, had a face that was clearly visible.
"Yuri Briol, is it?"
The Imperial knight asked.
"And you are?"
"I am Hares, a knight of the Empire."
"A knight order commander?"
"No."
He raised his sword.
"I am but a knight."
Yuri nodded. In truth, the enemy's affiliation or rank was irrelevant.
And there was no time for further words.
Yuri charged in at once, swinging his blade.
Hares, calm at first, gradually grew grim-faced, clearly surprised by Yuri's skill.
But Yuri did not provoke or mock him. He simply set about the work of killing him with steady precision.
He targeted the lower body to divide his focus, then, at times, aimed for the neck and chest, searing into him the possibility of a sudden lethal strike.
Bit by bit, Hares's movements changed.
He feigned guarding his lower body, while deliberately opening his upper body—a ploy to lure Yuri's attack and then counter.
This was, in fact, exactly as Yuri had arranged it.
Hares thought he had set a trap, but to one a step above him, Yuri could read all those thoughts with clarity.
And so, Yuri followed along.
Feigning a strike at the lower body, he drove Guilty into the gap at the upper body his foe had left open.
In that instant, Hares's movements turned strange—slithering away like a snake to evade the attack.
"So that's what it was,"
Yuri murmured.
At the same time, chaotic energy erupted from within Guilty.
Freed from the constraints of physical law, the sword path cleaved through the enemy's body.
Hares's eyes widened.
Under normal circumstances, he could have evaded it. But Yuri's blade defied common sense. The countless branches of possibility held within chaos were not something an ordinary man could predict.
Because Hares had placed too much faith in his own defensive skill, Yuri had been able to defeat him all the more easily.
Hares, eyes wide in disbelief, collapsed. Yuri tore his gaze away from the fallen corpse.
That was the end of it.
Hares had been strong—stronger than the 8th Knight Order's commander he had met earlier, possessing strange, unplaceable movements, and, calling himself "just a knight," likely unaffiliated with any particular unit.
He must have had his own deep story.
But all of it ended beneath Yuri's blade.
There was no time for mourning or sentiment.
Yuri erased the existence of Hares from his mind, and immediately sought his next foe. On this battlefield, Hares's death was no different from an ant crushed under a soldier's boot.
A new enemy stood before Yuri.
"You are Yuri Briol! My name is Tanasto! I am destined to be the next knight order commander of the 6th Knight Order! Hahahaha!"
Yuri immediately unleashed the Whirling Vortex. With the power of chaos added, the endlessly repeating, fractal swirl had grown far more violent than before.
It tore Tanasto's body apart.
He could no longer laugh—one arm flew away as he collapsed to the ground, trembling and scrambling backward. Having lost his right hand, he would never serve as a knight again.
There was no need to kill an enemy who had lost all fighting power. The sight of such misery would serve well to lower enemy morale.
Yuri did not pursue him further.
Raising Guilty, Yuri shouted,
"For Briol!"
The entire wall erupted in cheers once more.
With their geographical advantage and surging morale, Briol was fending off the enemy attack far better than expected. Yuri kept moving without pause.
There were young knights here whose skills did not belong on this battlefield, and old knights who seemed to have come for their final war.
He cut them all down.
Guilty now shone red, soaked with blood.
It was then that Yuri encountered a foe worth facing.
"Yuri Briooool!"
Once again, someone called his name.
Turning his head, he saw a knight plummeting from the sky like a cannonball. Yuri stepped back at once.
When the knight landed, the wall trembled.
"This shabby fortress is getting on my nerves. Is it because of you? So, I just have to kill you, right?"
There was madness in his tone.
Yuri looked into the man's eyes. He faintly sensed remnants of black magic. It seemed he had been altered by it.
Yuri was beginning to notice that the Imperial army was gradually taking on forms similar to those of his past life.
"And you are?"
"No need to know!"
With that, the man charged like a madman. Each swing of his sword sent gales rushing in all directions.
He expended mana so wastefully, yet showed no sign of fatigue. Black magic was surely aiding him.
Yuri's eyes gleamed fiercely.
Not only was he an Imperial knight, he was also consumed by black magic—making him no different from an enemy of blood feud. Yuri raised Guilty, blocking the strike. The impact shook his entire body.
"Is that all you've got!"
The Imperial knight roared, bringing his sword down at Yuri.
Yuri sidestepped. The wall beneath them shattered.
He gauged the man's level.
His power was concentrated on brute strength, much like Yalta.
By whatever means, the Empire had created a knight with destructive force rivaling Yalta's. The Empire's power would likely only grow stronger.
Yuri twisted his lips in a crooked smile, stepping toward the enemy.
Once more, the man's blade spun like a windmill, striking at Yuri. Though Guilty blocked it, the shock was fierce.
Yuri was pushed back. The enemy advanced, swinging again.
"All you do is run!"
Yuri deflected the sword and closed in.
A kick came at once.
"Kh!"
Yuri raised his arm to block it. His whole body ached.
The foe created distance, swinging his sword at Yuri's head.
He ducked to evade.
Then, lowering his stance completely, he dashed for the lower body.
Another kick came flying.
Yuri sprang up, moving sideways. This let him slip out of the enemy's attack range in an instant.
He swung Guilty at the man's flank. The enemy twisted his body to lessen the blow, but the blade still grazed his flesh.
Blood sprayed.
The man, eyes blazing, spun and charged at Yuri.
Yuri again weaved left and right.
Toying with him like a matador, Yuri enraged the Imperial knight until he roared.
Looking for something to vent his anger on, the man glanced around, but the other knights kept their distance, fighting separately, unwilling to intrude on the duel.
On the wall, only the two of them stood, locked in each other's sights.
Yuri crooked a finger.
"Come on, boar."
At that signal, the Imperial knight charged at Yuri. This time, as if mindful of Yuri's movements, he slowed his pace just before impact, keeping his eyes fixed on him.
But against an enemy who was conserving his strength, Yuri had no intention of retreating.
This time, he met him head-on.
When the sudden offensive came, the enemy was caught off guard and lost hold of his sword.
Yuri's blade sank into the man's shoulder. Blood sprayed upward, and a groan burst from his lips.
Riding the momentum, Yuri drove his foot into the enemy's chest, then, as the man toppled, brought Guilty down toward his head.
The opponent twisted his neck to avoid it,
But in doing so, received a slash across his cheek.
Blood smeared his face.
Yuri looked down at him and gave a short, mocking laugh. At that, the fallen man's face flushed red, and he thrashed about in a frenzy.
Yuri was forced to step back.
The enemy sprang to his feet, charging at him.
He really was like a wild boar.
"How long are you going to keep up such petty attacks?"
Not wanting to drag the fight out, Yuri taunted him.
Another knight might not have fallen for such a trick, but this one was lacking in wits. With a roar, he swung his sword in a wide arc at Yuri.
Yuri's lips curled upward.
On the battlefield, one must remain calm.
A single mistake can throw everything into ruin.
The price is one's life.
Yuri kept a minute gap between himself and the enemy, evading his attacks.
The closer he got to the blade, the greater the opportunity it offered.
He used that leeway to its fullest.
Twisting his waist to the utmost, he condensed his strength, then, pouring the power of chaos into it, slashed upward. By that point, the enemy still hadn't retrieved his sword.
The rotational force of the strike split the man's body.
Guilty entered below the ribcage, emerging from the opposite collarbone.
The man's torso was cleanly cut in two.
His insides spilled out.
Through the spray of blood, Yuri saw the man's upper body fall. Still frozen in the expression of battle, he hadn't even realized his own death.
Yuri muttered,
"A good death, for the battlefield."
The lower body, delayed, lost its strength and collapsed, spilling all the entrails it had held.
The stench of blood and rot rose into the air.
But it wasn't over.
There were still traces of black magic clinging to him—ones no one else could see.
Yuri fixed his eyes on the shape.
In that moment, the severed hand on the ground grabbed Yuri's ankle.
"What?"
Startled, he yanked his leg back, but it wouldn't come free.
The man's upper body crawled along the ground, baring his teeth, trying to bite Yuri's leg.
But before he could, Yuri thrust his sword into the man's face.
The man bit down on Guilty, losing all his teeth.
Yet he didn't stop. With only gums left, he gnashed at the blade, his face tearing to shreds.
It was a ghastly sight.
Yuri gave a great shake of Guilty, shattering the man's head. Only then did the corpse stop moving.
Yuri muttered,
"A zombie?"
It was a being spoken of only in legend.
A type of undead returned from death, but unlike a Death Knight, it retained no humanity. No matter how many times it was killed, it would keep seeking living humans.
Could black magic create something like that?
But there was no more time to think.
This was the battlefield.
Fighting was raging on all sides.
Yuri looked around.
Bodies of friend and foe were tangled together, strewn across the wall.
And knights fought on, trampling over them.
It seemed he would not rest until the sun went down.
"Hey!"
Yuri shouted as he ran. Jared was struggling against two enemies.
"Jared, what are you doing!"
"Help me, please!"
Just like the last foe he had faced, Yuri charged like a cannonball, slamming into an Imperial knight.
The man was immediately hurled over the wall.
A pitiful exit.
The last remaining Imperial knight stared in shock, glancing between Yuri and Jared.
"Hey, you're next—"
Yuri began a joke, intending to finish him off.
But his head snapped around. He was staring toward the center of the Imperial camp.
Someone was walking toward the launching devices.
"Damn…"
It was someone he had hoped wouldn't appear today.
Black armor, and instead of a helmet, a black mask.
The Black Knight.
He was on the move.
"That's the Black Knight, isn't it?"
"Yes."
The angle of his advance was toward Yuri.
As Yuri kept staring, their eyes met.
"He's coming here?"
At last, the Black Knight began to run.
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