Chapter 737 - The Stench of Human Cunningness
The two Spotted Leopard Beasts darted apart, scattering left and right.
Swollen red tendons bulged over their powerful hind legs, and as they struck the ground, their speed left afterimages trailing behind.
Even so, it wasn't a speed that was impossible to catch.
It would be close, but he could probably snare at least one.
Determined, Enkrid resolved to channel all his strength and hurled himself forward with Will.
He shed all subtlety, abandoning stealth in exchange for speed.
In that instant, his accelerated mind perceived every split-second detail.
Crack, snap—zzzzzzap.
The gravel beneath Enkrid's feet shattered and scattered, branches snapped and were driven so deep into the ground they stuck upright. His instep burrowed halfway into the earth, his foot gouging a trench so that the dirt piled up and compressed, hardening under the strain of his drive. His right foot dug halfway into the ground, while his left, toes tensed—big, second, and third—was ready to spring forward at any moment.
All he had to do was chase and bring his sword down on them. Even if something unexpected happened, he could at least slice the tail off one of the two.
Their tails, now hardened to a metal-like texture, reflected the moonlight in the darkness.
Anyone could see they'd make lethal weapons, as sharp as blades.
If he could just sever that, it would be half the battle won.
That might also be one of the leopard's methods of attack.
After all, a tail also acts as a counterweight.
In other words, if you cut off its tail, its balance will be thrown off and its movements will slow down. Catching it after that would be a piece of cake.
He realized all this instinctively and intuitively. The tail itself wasn't a threat.
Even if these two fleeing Beasts multiplied into ten, they still wouldn't pose a threat.
If he set a trap, he was confident he could take them down. If things went south, he could always pull back for a moment.
After all, a Knight as a calamity—it doesn't just mean disaster for humans.
A Knight is a disaster for anyone who crosses blades with them.
In this case, it meant he would be a disaster for anything coming at him with claws, nails, or fangs.
In short, no Beast could withstand Enkrid's sword.
Yet, he felt a strange sense that made him hesitate.
Pure instinct and intuition tugged at Enkrid's ankles, holding him back.
The uneasiness hung around his movements like a shackle, weighing him down.
Crunch.
His calf muscles tensed hard and then relaxed.
He dropped his hand loosely and looked ahead—he saw that the two leopards, who'd been running ahead, had stopped and turned to look back at him.
Standing in the shadows, their eyes glowed red.
The moment he let up on his momentum, they stopped immediately.
Had they sensed the vibrations in the air with their nerves? Or was it simply an instinct unique to them? Whatever the case, those things couldn't be called ordinary Beasts.
"Unusual specimens."
Enkrid turned his body. Once a decision was made, there was no need to hesitate further. Time that has passed never returns. Even if there are many paths, you only walk the one you choose. That's why, if you've made your choice, there's no need for regret. Of course, if someone asked why he did it, all he could say was that he felt uneasy.
Enkrid turned sharply, showing his back. No other Beast came at him. He headed straight back toward the village. From there, he saw Harkbent standing frozen, spear in hand, speechless.
"If we don't clean this up, it's going to start smelling."
Enkrid nudged the Bear Beast's corpse with the tip of his foot. Harkbent watched him with uneasy eyes. The Beasts were dangerous—but he was suddenly reminded that the man before him was just as dangerous.
Enkrid stared right back at Harkbent.
'All sorts of things must be running through his head.'
He couldn't fully guess what Harkbent was thinking or feeling inside, but he could more or less sense it.
Not that there was anything in particular he wanted to say.
No matter what he said, it wouldn't ease that anxiety.
The best thing to do here was—
'The best thing is probably to take care of the Beast as quickly as possible and then leave.'
But if that had truly been his goal, he should have chased down and killed those two Beasts from earlier.
And yet, Enkrid hadn't done so.
"Is there water to wash with?"
"Of course."
Harkbent had drawn water from the water source below the village and set it aside.
Whether it was meant for drinking or anything else didn't matter; he used about half of what was fetched for washing.
No matter what feelings he was hiding, Enkrid had saved the village.
It was only natural to show him at least this much kindness.
He was also on edge.
What if Enkrid suddenly became angry and lashed out if there wasn't any water?
The anxiety made his stomach ache.
The fate of the village now rested on this man's mood.
Honestly, it seemed like it might be better for everyone's peace of mind if this man just left and they went back to battling the Beasts for survival.
"Well then."
After washing up quickly, Enkrid maintained his calm demeanor toward Harkbent and then went in to sleep.
Night passed quickly.
At dawn, Enkrid woke up and began scouring the area. It wasn't hard to find traces of the Beasts.
'It's far.'
He had thought that if it was targeting the villagers, they would be lurking nearby.
But it wasn't close at all. If he planned to pursue , he would have to go quite far from the village.
In that case, that's what he'd have to do.
Still, he felt reluctant.
Enkrid followed the trail at a pace that was neither fast nor slow.
'A strong, musky stench.'
There was that distinct fishy and acrid smell unique to Beasts, wafting through the air.
'What was the name of that scent again?'
When he first entered the semi-basement house, a sharp aroma had pricked his nose.
He'd learned, after asking about the unusual scent, that it came from a local fruit only found around here.
If you added it to food, it completely masked the fishy smell and served as a spice.
Thanks to that, he'd also heard that the villagers cooked Beast and Monster meat.
Of course, it wasn't exactly delicious—so they only ate it when they had no other choice.
This was something Brunhild had explained when she was standing by with her spear, and a few other kids had gathered around. In particular, a clever-looking boy had chattered on and shared this story.
'That was my first time smelling it.'
But the smell he was detecting now—he recognized it.
An unpleasant stench mingled with the fishy and musky smells.
It was a foul odor tainted with a human-like cunningness—a smell he never expected to sense from a Beast.
He wasn't literally smelling it, but he could clearly feel it.
Humans, with their intellect, brought strategy into combat.
Calling it a tactic is putting it nicely.
Put harshly, it was cunningness developed to win and minimize harm to one's own side.
From the traces left by the pack of Beasts, Enkrid sensed a slyness he'd expect only from humans.
Enkrid stopped in his tracks.
Almost as if to prove his hypothesis, the Beast pack suddenly appeared, their musky scent flooding the air as they approached. Without a single growl, they kept their bodies low, blending into the grass as if they were part of it, staring at him with blood-red eyes.
'They used the headwind.'
They used the direction of the wind to mask their scent and hide their presence as they ambushed him.
In other words, they left traces on purpose to lure him in.
By leaving behind droppings and blood, they deliberately created a trail of musk and fishy odor.
He could almost picture Beasts swinging their claws, scratching at their companions or their own legs to leave such marks.
Now, the ones that had appeared were Wolf Beasts.
Even at a glance, there were dozens.
Forming a semicircle to surround him didn't even surprise him anymore.
An ambush and encirclement—he had expected as much.
'So the Wild Dogs were just the preliminary skirmish?'
Enkrid knew the name of the tactic the Beasts were using now.
"It's a diversion."
That meant he also knew exactly where he needed to be. He spun around and sprinted back. The uneasy feeling still chained to his ankles told him he could return quickly enough.
Arf!
When the Wolf Beast at the center barked, the others shifted, curling their semicircular formation into a tighter circle, blocking his path to the rear.
Enkrid counted the number of Beasts blocking his way.
"Nine of them."
The third one from the left was the tallest, while the second from the right crouched the lowest, ready to leap at any moment. There was no sound of Samcheol being drawn—he had been carrying the Sword unsheathed all along.
Enkrid turned each of the nine heads into points in his mind, drawing an imaginary line between them. From that moment on, he left half of his movements to instinct. Will surged inside him, pushing his body faster.
Enkrid stretched Samcheol out to the left, then slashed to the right—a sword slicing in a zigzag path. This was a variation of the flash of light he had honed through optimal thinking. A continuous flash. Optimized thinking told him exactly where to thrust and slash his sword.
The completed form became a zigzagging calamity of white light.
"Lightning."
Crack-crack-crack-crack.
It was as if the heads of all nine Beasts split open at once. Of course, there was a slight time difference between each kill, but unless you were a Knight—and not just any Knight, but one of the highest level—you wouldn't be able to tell.
It was a display of swordsmanship no different from acrobatics, achieved through the explosive release of lines he had learned from Alexandra, combined with optimized thought.
At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a simple, swift strike, but on closer inspection, the way he wielded his Will was truly acrobatic.
The heads of the nine Beasts shattered weakly, and they died. Now, nothing stood in Enkrid's way.
Springing forward, he caught sight of a gigantic Serpent ahead—large enough to swallow a child the size of Brunhild in a single bite.
Snap!
The creature coiled itself around a massive tree, snapping it, then let out a long, hissing wail. That wail, imbued with the power to instill terror into its prey, was only natural.
"I'll stop it!"
It was at the edge of the village. Harkbent stood alone, facing the Serpent with his spear.
At some point, his forearm had been wounded and blood dripped steadily down, staining the dirt at his feet with a red far more vivid than the blood of the Beasts.
The moment Enkrid saw Harkbent, he understood his intent.
A trap.
He must have been trying to lure the Serpent in. The only reason he was caught by the Wild Dog Beasts before was because they had rushed at him unexpectedly—otherwise, he said he could have killed them all by using traps.
But that Serpent is different.
There's no way something like that could be killed with a mere trap.
Enkrid didn't hesitate for a second.
He moved forward with perfect certainty and drew his sword. Without even looking back, the Serpent swung the log it held with its tail, letting out a booming roar.
Penna moved downward in a smooth, flowing motion and split the log.
Shhk.
In terms of cutting power, Penna exceeded even Samcheol.
The cross-section of the severed log was perfectly clean.
The sound was soft too, as if slicing through tender meat.
Enkrid charged forward, almost diving between the two halves of the split log. He had already sheathed Penna and now gripped Samcheol's hilt with both hands.
Without breaking stride, he brought the sword straight down onto the Serpent's head.
Fwoosh, thud.
The blade traced a line beyond everyone's perception.
It sliced past the Serpent's head even before the sound could follow.
From Harkbent's perspective, standing just steps away, all he saw was Enkrid suddenly appear, the log split in two, and then only the flash of a line. The Serpent's head split cleanly along that line.
Its hard skull, along with the darkened brain inside, spilled out.
The sword had moved so swiftly that not even the sound of decapitation was heard; for a moment, not even a drop of blood seeped from the cut surface.
This was skill not just beyond neatness—it was beyond what a human could accomplish.
Enkrid had reached a realm known as Knight, or even Calamity.
Naturally, he was able to wield his sword beyond the limits of his species.
The overwhelming power that didn't show when fighting other knights was fully revealed in front of the Beasts.
Tap. Thud.
Enkrid, who had brought his sword down while still airborne, touched down on the ground first.
Only after that did the Serpent's body collapse.
The earth trembled, as if struck by a small earthquake.
Enkrid immediately lifted his head, listening to the noise and feeling the vibrations in the air.
The Serpent was not the end.
Several deer, their fangs protruding even more prominently than wolves', leapt into the village. In the trees above, fox Beasts glared down with glowing red eyes.
"Damn it, Harkben!"
Someone shouted for Harkbent.
Their traps consisted of holes dug into the ground, with sharp stakes driven in at the bottom.
All the trap holes were made at the village's front perimeter.
But now, the horde of Beasts was pouring in from the village's flanks.
They know about the traps.
The Wild Dog Beasts had executed a delaying tactic; the Bear Beast had drawn attention and lured them away.
They're trying to draw me out.
Now it was certain.
This pack of Beasts could use their heads.
They were clever and cunning enough to look down on most humans.
"En-Ki!"
In the midst of the chaos, Brunhild's voice called out. In this moment, it was only natural she would call for him, not her father.
The one who could get her out of this crisis was the swordsman from outside the village.
Enkrid sprang into action.
He pushed off the ground, sprinted atop the trees, and slashed at the neck of a charging deer whose fangs jutted forward.
With the passing blur of Samcheol, the Beast's head soared through the air and thudded to the ground.
He leapt down from the tree, steadied himself, hurled his spear, and—already drawing it without a pause—threw the Horn Trumpet Dagger as he dodged sideways.
Pwoo!
A knight's power could well be called superhuman strength.
Charged with that might, the dagger pierced straight through the deer's skull.
Bang!
The Deer Beast's head burst open like a well-cooked pumpkin.
As he moved, Enkrid caught sight of a white-furred fox with two tails.
The thing was cunning.
After watching Enkrid take down several Beasts, it kept its distance.
If you looked up close, you'd see it was perched atop a tree so tall the end was out of sight, as straight as a pole.
The fox treaded lightly along the branches. It was almost as if all of this was just another test.
As if to flaunt that it still had plenty more prepared.
Enkrid turned away from the Fox Beast that had briefly stolen his focus and pushed forward once more.
Even stopping to catch his breath for a second would mean someone could die. He couldn't let that happen. Not counting the big serpent, there were fewer than twenty Beasts inside the village.
But if it weren't for me, someone would have died.
Brunhild, catching her breath at the side, smiled at him and raised her spear.
"I killed it."
Even in that chaos, this exceptionally talented girl had managed to spear a Fox Beast.
As a result, her spear shaft had split halfway up.
***
"We need to hold a meeting," said Harkbent, glancing around. No one had died, but that didn't do much to ease his anxiety.
***
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