Chapter 129 - Heart of Monstrous Strength

Among the soldiers standing at the front was Bell.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck.'

He was out of luck. It would have been better to just die from the first strike.

A giant.

And he couldn't even back down from it.

Shouldn't the 1st Company be the ones stepping up to deal with something like that?

Or the Border Guard?

The Turtle Heavy Infantry was positioned on the left side of the allied forces.

And as for the Border Guard, there wasn't a single hair of them to be seen, as if they had all gone off to drink together.

Bell felt beads of sweat running down his back. His hands tingled with tension. His legs felt like they were going to give out.

Even though the giant was just laughing and doing nothing.

No, in truth, it had already shown everything there was to see with that first swing of the hammer.

That single strike, the gruesome sight created by its overwhelming monstrous strength—anyone who could look at that and stay sane would have to have a broken head.

'Fuck.'

Bell had a premonition of death.

If that hammer moved, it would soon be his turn to die.

The front line had been blown away, and somehow he had ended up standing right at the very front.

"Fucking hell."

The Squad Leader said right next to him.

His complexion was equally grim. Seeing his shaking pupils, it was a miracle he hadn't shouted to run away.

If they ran, the vanguard commanders holding the rear would act as barrier troops and swing their swords, so they couldn't actually run away anyway.

Seeing the Squad Leader so terrified next to him actually made Bell feel more at ease.

Fuck it, I'll just die then.

From the moment you step onto the battlefield, your life is mortgaged to heaven.

Looks like it's time for debt collection, he decided to think.

"We're going to die anyway."

Bell said. The Squad Leader looked at him. Bell looked straight back at the Squad Leader and showed a smile of total resignation.

"I'd like to cut off at least one of its toes, though."

They said a giant's hide was tough and couldn't be cut with ordinary sword strikes.

I wonder how true that is.

What if I stick right next to it and saw away at it?

Even if it has the solid bones of a dragon, wouldn't I be able to cut it if I press in close and saw at it?

Who knows, maybe I'll give it a try.

"The flower of the battlefield."

Bell opened his mouth. It wasn't a sorrowful voice. It was determination.

Since he had put his life on the line, he was going to use that risked life properly and fiercely.

Because not even pretending to dodge when lightning strikes makes you an idiot.

Bell had learned that from watching the man named Encrid.

An endless man, someone who truly didn't know the word "give up."

How could he not have learned anything with a man like that by his side?

Bell had learned, and he decided to put it into action.

At Bell's words, the Squad Leader spoke reflexively.

"Is the infantry."

Then, it was time to fight.

Which meant it was time to die. Or rather, the road to death.

Just then, the giant bastard pulled up the hammer it had left dragging on the ground.

SCRAPE.

The lump of iron rose, scraping against the gravel.

As the fog slowly lifted, he could see the hammer's head, where blood and bits of flesh stuck like mashed bread.

It came into view clearly, far too clearly. That was death. The mortgaged debt.

"Ku-heuh-heuh."

Showing that same damned cavernous laugh again, the giant lifted the hammer. While it had swung it vertically earlier, this time it raised it high and tilted it sideways. Did it want to kill a lot of people at once?

Bell racked his brain, wondering if he could dodge it.

Would ducking down low work?

Would a hammer swung by that huge bastard reach all the way to the ground?

It didn't seem likely.

The giant bent its knees. The hammer's head was simply too large.

If it swings from that angle, it looks impossible to dodge without jumping over it.

Or he would have to escape the hammer's area of effect.

"This is too much. You sons of bitches."

One of the allied soldiers cried out toward the rear.

"What about the retreat signal? The whistle blew and we just didn't hear it, right?"

It was a new recruit. Someone who was still green.

"Fucking hell, fuck, dammit, sons of bitches."

Another ally just spat out an endless stream of curses.

The giant knew how to fight. If it had immediately gone on a rampage, it wouldn't have been able to create a situation like this.

That brief lull had planted terror into the allies.

The giant had killed the allies' spirits first.

"Heuh!"

Even the giant's battle cry sounded like a dog. With it, the bastard unleashed its prepared strike.

SWOOSH!

Once again tearing through the air, that monstrous strength surpassing human limits flew at them, using the hammer's head as its vessel.

WHOOSH!

Bell had no other option but to press himself tightly against his shield and brace to jump right as he was hit.

Then, if he was lucky, wouldn't he live?

Of course, he would die. Even so, he wanted to try and endure it.

It was the moment when death cast its shadow over the eyes of every soldier.

Bell couldn't even properly see the hammer moving.

Instead.

*Fwhip*, a single shadow stepped forward.

'Huh?'

Before he could even process what it was.

CRAAAAASH!

An explosion battered his ears. The strike was so ignorantly powerful that the shockwave made him feel as if his body was being pushed backward.

Only then did Bell see.

"... What the fuck is this."

A curse expressing his sheer absurdity slipped out naturally. Well, it was a sequence of events where one couldn't help but curse.

"Hey, you retarded lump, you should play with someone on your level."

The shadow that blocked the front spoke. It was an ally's back.

Standing in front of the giant, he looked endlessly small, yet he had stopped the hammer with an axe in each hand. The veins on the forearms gripping the axes bulged as if they would burst. For some reason, he had ripped off the sleeves of his gambeson and was wearing his armor like a vest.

Even so, he had blocked it.

His feet had slid to the side a bit, leaving a trail in the gravel, but he had indeed blocked it.

What was this? The situation wouldn't register in his mind.

Then.

"... We lived."

It was the new recruit. He said it while crying. His tearful voice reached everyone's ears.

The moment Bell fully processed the situation, his chest swelled with emotion.

He, too, was on the verge of bursting into tears.

It was the joy of being alive, and at the same time.

The back of the man who usually instilled an indescribable dread in both ally and enemy alike now looked more dependable than anything else.

The giant was a monster. They were red-blooded beasts. Things that revered slaughter-crazed violence, they said.

So what?

They had one here too.

A lunatic, a monster.

The kind of monster whose mere presence in a fight would demoralize his own allies.

"Got honey smeared on your muzzle? Why the silence?"

That monster opened his mouth. In that truly dog-like tone he always used.

To them, it sounded like a heavenly orchestra today.

"You buuug!"

The giant was enraged, and Rem chuckled.

What's this retard saying?

* * *

Rem felt good.

So good, in fact, that it reminded him of his first battle.

It was thanks to his sparring with the Platoon Commander.

Did it make sense to feel this way after a single spar?

It was probably because so much had built up inside him over time.

Feeling fiercely refreshed, Rem wanted to have a proper fight.

He also wanted to show Encrid.

Here, watch this.

Because this is exactly what you'll be learning next.

Since childhood, Rem had never even blinked at an axe blade flying his way.

Even someone like Rem had learned, mastered, and trained the heart of the beast.

Why would he have learned it if all it gave was boldness and composure?

When it would have been useless to him.

He learned, mastered, and trained it because, of course, it had a use.

The reason he mastered it was because the heart of the beast didn't stop at just giving boldness.

From here on out, it could be said that about half of it was Rem's own original technique.

Not his tribe's, but his own.

Thump.

His heart beat twice as fast as usual, swirling blood throughout his entire body. His blood flow, the speed at which blood circulated his body, accelerated.

Thump thump thump thump!

His blood vessels expanded, and his muscles swelled, altering their density.

A body subjected to this spell-like technique originating from the heart truly attained monstrous strength.

Rem decided to call this the Heart of Monstrous Strength.

Because the people of his tribe only used it as a technique to prevent aging.

In reality, this was a technique used only by Rem.

If learned incorrectly, one would die from a ruptured heart, burst blood vessels, or muscle necrosis.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it being hard to learn.

He had told Encrid to watch and learn, but the choice would be his.

Of course, if he said he wanted to learn, Rem would teach him slowly, step by step. He planned to engrave it into him little by little so he wouldn't die.

It would hurt a bit, but Encrid would ignore the pain and learn it anyway.

Blocking the giant's hammer.

Rem unleashed his monstrous strength and swung his axe.

WHOOSH!

The hammer crashed down at a terrifying speed, and Rem struck it away with his axe.

CLANG! SCRAPE! POW!

The axe blade couldn't withstand the impact and broke. It practically shattered as if it had exploded.

Even though he had deflected it as much as possible, this was the result.

Rem swung his left arm outward, tossing his arm so that the shattered axe blade would fly to one side.

A portion of the shattered axe blade pierced into the giant's wooden armor with a series of sharp impacts.

'Should I have used something a bit nicer?'

He could have just used a club like those perverted religious freaks.

Rem wasn't picky about weapons, but an axe suited his hands best.

Toss.

He threw away the remaining axe handle and kicked up a spear that was caught on his toe.

A spear in his left hand, an axe in his right.

Holding a weapon in each hand, Rem smiled. It was a boundlessly satisfying smile, a satisfaction born of finding an opponent worth fighting after so long, following directly from his vastly improved mood after sparring with Encrid.

"Hey, let's have some fun."

After that, their fight grew intense. It was quite literally to the point where no one could get near them.

BOOM! BOOM! CLANG! CLAAAAANG!

He picked up spears from the ground to stab with and struck out with his axe.

When a weapon broke, he'd pick up whatever was scattered on the ground.

Just as even those were running out.

"Hey, throw them!"

Bell, quick to catch on, threw the weapon in his hand.

It was spears, handaxes, and the like.

Someone also aimed at the giant and threw a dagger. It was aimed at the eye, but the bastard just sharply turned its head and caught it with its forehead.

THWACK!

What the hell kind of skin was that?

The sharpened dagger spun wildly into the air, bouncing off without leaving even a scratch.

Then, what on earth was Rem, who was fighting such a monster?

They didn't know. They were just certain that that monster was protecting them.

Encrid watched Rem's fight.

His combat was intense. Brutal. And above all.

'He's matching strength with a giant?'

Then didn't that mean his physical strength was superior to even a Frog?

Is that it? What he told me to learn next. What he told me to watch closely?

Thump.

His heart raced. Because there was something new to learn.

To Encrid, the desire to learn was his fundamental urge.

"I think we can go now. Seeing how he's just playing around."

Ragna said from beside him.

Rem looked to be having fun fighting the giant. Yes, seeing that, Encrid understood.

Even though he could win and kill it, he was just testing the waters right now.

Why?

'For me to watch?'

That thought occurred to him for a moment, though he wondered if he was reaching too far.

It seemed Rem was just doing that out of excitement.

"Let's go do what we need to do now."

Ragna also looked impatient. Why was that? Why was he so eager to fight?

This guy, who usually didn't have a single drop of motivation in him.

"Alright."

At any rate, since he was rushing him, Encrid also stepped forward. He felt like he had seen everything Rem wanted him to see.

Ragna was supposed to head right, but he kept stepping in a strange direction.

Encrid grabbed him and guided him along.

"I think we'll be fine if we just clear this side out."

Krais said, sticking close behind them.

Is that so.

Encrid didn't care about the overall tide of the battle. Only the now, the present, mattered.

As they moved to the right, they saw the enemy forces gathered there.

Ten men looking thoroughly relaxed.

What was this?

Was it some kind of trick of fate?

As he got close enough to see their faces, Encrid realized the one standing in the center was someone he knew.

Why was that guy here?

The opponent also recognized Encrid's face.

In truth, Encrid had the kind of handsome face that was hard to forget once you saw it.

"You, you were alive?"

Upon recognizing Encrid, the opponent's eyes widened, he blinked a few times, and then asked with a smile. His smile was the kind that crinkled all the way up to his eyes.

Though, seeing those triangular eyes twist, it certainly wasn't a good impression.

"I was."

As Encrid replied calmly, Ragna asked with his eyes.

Someone you know?

"During my mercenary days..."

Encrid started to explain, but figuring it would get too long, he cut it short.

"A son of a bitch I ran into."

Hmm, right, that was a fitting enough description for a piece of trash like this.

Since he was a son of a bitch who made a habit of stabbing his allies in the back, then raping and killing women.

I should have killed him back then.

I heard he messed with a noble and ran off somewhere, but I suppose he was here.

"Woah, is that what you say to a friend you haven't seen in a long time?"

Friend? Encrid felt a rare sense of displeasure.

Friends with a thing like that?

Ragna asked with his eyes again.

"No, a son of a bitch."

As he stated it short and clear again, Ragna nodded.

"Hah, true, you always did have a slick tongue. But how did you manage to stay alive? What, did you go around offering up your ass somewhere?"

He used to hear insults like that a lot during his mercenary days. It was something he heard because of his face.

He heard it often even after enlisting in the army.

It really had been a long time since he last heard it, though. No one had mocked him like that lately.

Since he had proven himself with his skill, who would say such a thing?

Thus, Encrid brushed off his opponent's provocation as if it were nothing.

Ragna figured as much too. The guy was going to die anyway, so what did it matter?

"Then Captain can slice that one up."

Ragna said and stepped aside.

It was as if he was saying the remaining nine were his opponents.

"Just the three of you against the ten of us?"

"I won't be fighting. You only need to target these two."

Krais said from behind them.

Encrid swept a glance over his surroundings.

What had these ten done?

At a glance, it didn't look like the allies were eager to charge at them.

The corpses scattered around caught his eye.

Bodies riddled with holes.

It was the mark of the weapon that son of a bitch often used.

Encrid smoothly shifted his gaze to check the other bodies as well.

He saw wounds from being hacked, slashed, and stabbed by swords, spears, and daggers.

But somehow, the wounds were strangely messy.

The punctured areas were the same. As if they had been tortured.

"They're bastards drunk on the muderous blade. The kind that try to improve their skills through slaughter. It's fine. Didn't I tell you before? If you don't walk the right path, your limits are clear."

Ragna said from beside him.

He had. He had said that's what happens if you stay tied to the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique, that you would hit a wall.

So, build the fundamentals anew.

And so he did. He built them anew and moved forward once again.

It was a path with a milestone.

Encrid drew his sword.

SHING.

"I'll take that one."

Just as Ragna said, you could call it holding a grudge, or you could call it a scene from a revenge play.

Encrid thought of his comrade whose heart was torn out by a harpy.

And decided to honor those who died back then.

By cutting off the head of that perverted piece of trash.