Chapter 908 - Dominating the Battlefield
Crack!
Ingis suffered a broken arm and a broken leg.
His arm was broken because he failed to track the trajectory of the opponent's blunt weapon, and his leg was broken because he was overpowered by sheer force.
Every time he blocked, intangible shockwaves battered his body.
"Surrender and kneel, and I will spare your life. Swear loyalty."
The opponent said.
Ingis answered while balancing on his one remaining leg.
"If I break my vows, I won't even be able to fight properly, so what value is there in that?"
It was a question asked out of genuine curiosity.
"There is a way, so just kneel."
"I refuse."
"You choose to accept death? It is a useless death."
The difference in capability was clear.
But Ingis didn't feel wronged.
If he thought like that, then everyone who had fallen by his hand until now would feel wronged and resentful.
After all, Ingis also had a record of cutting down two Southern knights.
"Whether it is useless or not is for me to decide."
His calm tone and unwavering spirit—these were the qualities Cypress valued most in Ingis.
Abandoning one's will just because death approached was denying all the days one had lived.
"If there is something I believe in, I simply go towards it."
If the end of that path was death, he would gladly endure it.
That was the teaching of the Crimson Cloak Knights and the conviction Ingis held.
"My name is Kaelo. Memorize the name of the man who killed you before you go."
Kaelo of the South swung his weapon, recalling the bastard who had run away without even listening to his name earlier.
His inscribed weapon was named Destruction.
He also held the alias 'Weapon Breaker' because he enjoyed breaking his opponents' weapons.
Although branding himself a weapon breaker was partly a trick, his weapon was indeed imbued with various enchantments.
Kaelo the Weapon Breaker was one of the knights discussed as the strongest in the South, evaluated as even more skilled in duels than his Captain, Beharli.
Ingis struck upward with his sword against the blunt weapon falling towards his head.
He calculated deflecting and striking away, but none of it worked, so the only option left was to receive it with strength.
'Faster than me and stronger than me.'
Because he couldn't narrow that simple gap, this was the result.
With one leg broken, a contest of strength was impossible.
But should he die quietly?
He couldn't do that, so he tried to strike away with force, deflect what he lacked, endure, and calculate the next move.
He was desperate.
It wasn't the first time he had experienced such a crisis, but this was the most threatening.
Death approached and brushed against the nape of his neck.
'If I dodge, I die.'
As their weapons clashed, Ingis condensed his Will and infused it into his sword.
As a result of instinctive judgment and talent, Will dwelled on his blade.
Bang!
But the result didn't change.
The enemy's blunt weapon created pressure every time they collided, leaving impacts throughout his body.
This time, the impact was greater.
Like a giant invisible fist striking his abdomen, Ingis's waist bent backward as he was sent flying.
The sound of compressed air bursting sounded like all his internal organs exploding.
Whether fortunate or not, Ingis's organs didn't burst.
He rolled on the ground and vomited a mouthful of blood, but he was still breathing, and the light in his eyes hadn't died.
Stopping his roll with his chest to the ground, he lifted only his head to stare at the opponent.
That gaze still held light.
'Those eyes.'
They looked like something one would want to smash.
Since Kaelo had no reason to go easy on the opponent, he was about to rush violently but stopped his step in mid-air.
With his left foot raised, his gaze turned toward a direction other than Ingis.
A refined intimidation pressed down on his shoulders.
Stamping the raised foot on the ground with a thud to shake off the intimidation, Kaelo raised his club and spoke.
"Damn bastard, I was going to kill you right after finishing this one."
The owner of the intimidation walked over from one side.
He looked like he was just out for a night stroll.
His name was Ragna, affiliated with The Madmen Knights.
No matter how directionally challenged Ragna was, he didn't lose his way when looking at a guy right in front of his nose.
He had decided on his opponent from the start.
He followed Enkrid's judgment because Enkrid called him, but if Enkrid hadn't been there, he would have come to deal with this bastard long ago.
"A corpse talking back?"
As soon as Ragna arrived, he scratched the opponent's nerves.
Ingis wasn't usually one to laugh much, but now he let out a deflated laugh.
It was the first time he had seen someone spout such words so seriously in a situation like this.
He didn't even say it as a joke.
'One hundred percent sincere.'
Correct.
Ragna was sincere.
That guy was already dead.
He was a bastard who had barely survived the previous bout thanks to the wizard intervening.
"Crazy bastard. I am Kaelo the Weapon Breaker!"
Whether the Knight of Fastest Speed or whatever, no one could act high and mighty in front of him.
To show such an attitude towards him?
It could not be tolerated.
Speaking, he took long strides.
Approaching the guy who came close, he grabbed his desired distance and struck down obliquely with the angular club.
Kaelo intended to break both wrists of that arrogant bastard with the first blow.
Several enchantments were imbued in the inscribed weapon Destruction.
One was converting the impact generated when swinging into an intangible shockwave, and another was transmitting the impact along the blade to the opponent's wrist if hit precisely on the hexagonal edge.
'If you don't know, you have to get hit.'
If it's a first-time opponent, it's difficult to perceive the magic imbued in the inscribed weapon.
If he reflexively drew up Will to block, Kaelo would snap at least one wrist in that gap.
Volition became Will, naturally swirling inside the body and causing a change in nature.
Kaelo possessed enough skill to show confidence.
Therefore, the result of this fight wasn't his fault.
It was just that there were truly nonsensical geniuses in this world.
Ragna already knew how to deal with him when they first fought.
Furthermore, because they were separated for a moment, he even had time to think about how to deal with him.
The time of a genius and a mediocre person is not the same.
Here, both would belong to the category of genius, but the difference was clear.
'A form that transmits impact if blocked.'
A fighting style that gains advantage if the opponent dodges.
Kaelo was an all-rounder knight lacking nothing in power, speed, and individual tactics.
That was all.
Kwang!
Destruction struck Sunrise.
Kaelo's eyes narrowed.
Because the result he wished for didn't appear.
Ragna released his sword grip for a short moment and grabbed it again.
'This crazy bastard?'
With that, the magic imbued in his weapon became useless.
The impact that was supposed to be transmitted through the grip scattered vainly in the air.
As for the shockwave made of pressure, he roughly took it with his body.
Thud!
As the shockwave struck his abdomen, the dark green cloak bent forward blocking some of the impact, but since it couldn't resolve all the shock, he endured the rest with his body.
Because he released and grabbed the sword briefly, the blade of Sunrise fell downward and was pushed back.
Following that, all of Ragna's actions were natural and without hesitation, as if they were all for this one move.
He extended his left foot straight forward as is.
It was a bold step.
That leg invaded the space between Kaelo's two feet.
Kaelo drew the shortsword he wore as a secondary weapon with one hand to stab, and pulled the hand holding Destruction to try and block the opponent's sword.
Puk.
The shortsword stabbed through the opponent's cloak.
It was a stab faster than the movement of the cloak.
Although Ragna also wore leather and padded armor underneath, it was a knight's stab.
The blade dug into flesh.
Then, Sunrise, which had fallen downward, soared up.
The rising of the sun was something no disaster could stop.
Biiiiiiiii.
Kaelo's last sensation was tinnitus.
He couldn't feel pain.
It was because the blade, which he couldn't perceive even with accelerated thought, had pierced through his neck.
"Ah."
Ingis admired purely.
'Creating a gap with an attack the opponent didn't expect and striking at a speed they couldn't react to.'
Amidst that, he just takes the incoming blade.
Was there any situation that demonstrated the saying "give flesh to take bone" as perfectly as this?
The knight named Kaelo tried to raise his arm to block until the very last moment, but the sword of the knight named Ragna changed from a slashing motion to a stabbing motion as if he predicted the opponent's forearm would block.
It was like the wingbeat of a swallow flying freely in the sky or the movement of a snake.
It also looked like holding lightning in hand and swinging it.
What was certain was that there was no specific technique to speak of.
He simply swung the sword as fast and flexibly as needed at the necessary moment.
"Now you won't be able to talk back, right?"
Over the blade Ragna held, the enemy's blood burned like steam.
It smelled fishy.
The stab by the shortsword wasn't that deep.
It was a blade thrust inadvertently to make him dodge.
It was enough to cut the enemy's neck before that blade rummaged through his intestines.
Ragna was a person who executed such crazy thoughts nonchalantly.
***
Shinar, intending to watch Enkrid's back when he stepped forward, snatched an arrow that had neither sound nor presence.
The arrow dyed jet-black was painted in a color that absorbed light, and for the fletching, the feathers of an owl turned into a demon beast was used.
The shaft was soft as if made of velvet, a form and material that devoured sound.
"Not a chance."
Shinar is a Fairy who has mastered the art of fighting while suppressing sound.
In addition, within The Madmen Knights, there exists a monster who throws daggers while suppressing even killing intent.
Thanks to seeing that monster, Shinar repeatedly whipped herself into shape.
Furthermore, it was basic for the Madmen to stimulate each other and not lose the desire for improvement.
Since she was the master of Kiraheis but also a member of The Madmen Knights, she reached this point by being faithful to that basic principle.
It was an arrow easier to block than Jaxen's dagger.
Although killing intent was erased, wasn't the flying momentum felt?
Though she blocked it relying solely on her sixth sense, so she couldn't dare say it was easy.
"You blocked that?"
The opponent was a Southern Elf from the the Black Forest Tribe.
Skin was pitch black.
A traitor of the tribe who made the Demonic Realm their home.
The Black Elf didn't make a sound even when drawing a sword.
The blade was dark brown and smelled acrid.
The sword's name was Dead Leaf.
It wasn't a sword made by hammering iron, but created by making dozens of trees possessing spirituality from living hundreds of years rot whole, then covering them with rotten soil repeatedly to imbue poison.
Shinar also drew Naidyr.
The refreshing coolness of blue spring and the dark brown blade symbolizing toxicity aimed at each other.
"Cruel."
Shinar said.
Although not a single change in expression, if Enkrid saw her, he would know she was angry.
What is a tree possessing spirituality?
A Wood Guard.
The sword the opponent held now was made by killing dozens of the Wood Guard tribe, one of the fairy races.
Anger rose as she seemed to know the process without seeing it.
"You aren't even worth the breath it takes to insult you."
As Shinar spoke, the Black Elf's eyes curved.
"Hypocrisy."
Aren't they going to kill each other anyway.
The Black Elf specialized in poison.
Shinar found no reason to drag time.
After a few exchanges of offense and defense, the Black Elf secretly threw a dagger, and Shinar struck her neck while getting hit by the dagger.
The dagger stuck in her left thigh.
Seeing it pierced even the defense of the cloak, this dagger was also paired with the weapon Dead Leaf.
"Did you say you were from the Black Forest Tribe? It takes more than a name like that to kill me."
Shinar said.
"Shall we die together? My dagger is also full of the same rotten leaf poison?"
Whether the Elf was using some magic, she answered with her neck half cut.
She was barely holding on by clutching her neck.
Blood poured from the cut section of the neck.
Perhaps because she was an Elf, expression change was minimal even with her neck cut, and Shinar thought she managed to open her mouth surprisingly well in that state.
"It is fine."
Shinar answered without a single trace of laughter as always.
The flame possessed by a Salamander burns all toxicity.
His fire symbolizes destruction that burns everything and regeneration.
Furthermore, if it was poison made of leaf mold, it was fine to say they were incompatible enemies.
Fire burns away old toxicity.
That is truth.
Although there was no sound or presence, Shinar burned the toxicity that entered her body.
Connecting with the Salamander through imagery, part of him came and went inside her body briefly.
The Fairy Knight prepared by the Great Emperor knelt with eyes wide open.
She breathed shallowly three or four times then stopped breathing.
She died kneeling.
***
Lien's opponent possessed a supernatural ability to glimpse the future.
Because he predicted what would actually happen beyond the insight possessed by a knight, his alias was The Prophet.
Looking in detail, it wasn't prophecy but a talent to read the fighting opponent's intent, but whatever it was, the match-up was too bad this time.
"Still lasted long."
Lien's specialty was digging into the enemy's space and breaking joints.
He is a master of Eil karaz-style martial arts.
The opponent predicted and prophesied Lien's movements, escaping crisis several times and stabbing at openings, but Lien charged honestly without worrying.
Although his shoulder was scratched by the blade and some flesh fell off, what about it?
As soon as he narrowed the distance like that, the opponent knight's face turned pale white.
How was the future he saw?
Did he see his end?
"Was it so? Did you see?"
Lien asked in a tone like a third-rate thug.
There was no answer.
An opponent with a broken neck couldn't answer.
"Phew."
Because his shoulder was stabbed, using his left arm was uncomfortable, but he wasn't stabbed in a seriously bad spot either.
Lien, shaking off his two hands, turned his gaze to other fights.
The situation was roughly being sorted out.
Seeing the sights entering his eyes one by one, such a thought naturally occurred.
'If they weren't here, we would have all died.'
Or would the Master have held out by placing some nonsensical vow again?
Whatever it was, one thing was certain.
The Madmen dominated the battlefield.
The strongest in this place right now were them.
"You bastards! I am the Vice-Captain Rem-nim!"
From one side, the Western barbarian shouts.
There was no need for the wounded remaining in the rear to overdo it and step forward.
"Holy shit!"
From back there, the King's exclamation was heard.
He was having good vocal cords despite not even being a knight.
It was a curse containing the joy of victory.
***
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