Chapter 90 - It was the correct answer.

The 4th Platoon Commander of the heavy armored infantry company was a commanding officer recently transferred to this unit from the center.

'What a shitshow.'

Since he had been assigned to the unit, he had set out on a monster subjugation mission to adapt and conduct live combat training.

Of course, the scale was quite large for such a thing.

Since the original mission was the subjugation of a large pack of human-faced dogs.

Even so, it was fine.

Because it wasn't for nothing that heavy armored infantry was called a class that ate up kronas.

In conclusion, he had set out knowing the power of his allied forces.

But suddenly, harpies popped out.

It was a perplexing situation.

Why harpies all of a sudden?

He called for backup.

And formed a square formation with the heavy armored infantry.

Meanwhile, a few soldiers supporting the unit died.

While crossbow bolts uselessly cleaved through the empty air, reinforcements arrived.

Just two light armored infantrymen.

'Are you kidding me?'

And fearlessly at that, they strode right into the harpies' attack range.

That was suicide.

The commander didn't know Encrid, and he didn't know Rem.

He was recently transferred and was still adjusting to the atmosphere within the unit.

Of course, he had heard about the Spellbreaker, or the upper-grade soldier troublemaker Squad Leader, but he had no time to pay attention to all that.

Since it was a subjugation operation he came out on during all this, seeing the two of them instantly made him angry.

"Oh, fuck!"

A curse slipped out naturally. Even if there was a subtle friction between the heavy armored infantry and the light armored infantry.

There was no way it could be pleasant watching comrades die right before his eyes.

Let alone who would want to watch their heads get ripped off by a harpy.

The two light armored infantrymen were Encrid and Rem, and the reason only the two of them appeared was because they had rushed ahead to join the fray without bothering to wait for the rest of their unit.

Therefore, the archer unit requested from the main force as reinforcements hadn't even arrived yet.

"Hey, get back...!"

His heart was so rushed that he couldn't get all the words out. He had wanted to tell them to run away, or to duck their heads.

On this side, they had a structure that could withstand the harpies' talons and attacks.

Chainmail over thick cloth armor, a breastplate layered with thin iron plates on top of that, and steel gauntlets along with greaves.

Plus, they were holding rectangular shields and had established a defensive formation.

It was a strategic defensive posture fitting for their nickname as the Turtle Heavy Infantry.

It meant they were more than capable of holding out until reinforcements arrived.

Therefore, the ones who looked like easier targets than this side would undoubtedly be simpler prey for the harpies.

Discovering the newly arrived prey, one harpy swooped down at a terrifying speed.

The commander's eyes saw red feathers suddenly dropping down, tracing a long trajectory.

Even if he wanted to help, he had no means to do so.

Now, his only option was to watch them die obediently and promise to avenge them later.

Just like that, the soldier's head was about to be split open by the harpy's talons.

SHING.

SLASH.

The screech of grinding metal and the sound of flesh being sliced reached the commander's ears.

All he could see with his eyes was the harpy's back.

Because a harpy's size was similar to that of an adult male, he couldn't exactly see what the light armored infantryman, hidden by the falling harpy, had done.

All he saw was one of the harpy's wings being torn off, its body crashing into the ground with a *thud* like a failed skipping stone, bouncing once in the air, and then rolling across the dirt.

The harpy's upper body, which had boasted red feathers and jiggling breasts, was dyed in blood, and dirt covered its entire body.

"SCREEEECH!"

The harpy sprawled on the ground shrieked. The commander couldn't even blink.

What was this?

"... Huh?"

Amidst the incomprehensible situation, only a single muttered question remained.

The commander's eyes swept over the scene, and soon crammed everything into the realm of understanding.

'The harpy flew down.'

And he cut it with a sword?

Is that even possible?

It was a stunt that couldn't be easily seen.

What if the approaching harpy's talons had been slightly off? What if he missed the timing? What if he lacked the cutting force?

Wouldn't any of those be a problem?

Doing something like that in itself was crazy.

Who in the world would pull a stunt like that against a swooping harpy?

Even among the Border Guard known as the Frontier Slaughterers, how many could possibly do that?

SCREECH!

'Coincidence, luck.'

He must be incredibly lucky. As if they weren't the only ones thinking that, two of the harpies hovering overhead glided down, swooping toward the ground once again to target the duo.

They were fast. It felt as though he could hear the sound of the harpies' talons tearing through the air.

The commander's eyes fixated on the two light armored infantrymen who came calling themselves reinforcements.

Because the angle at which the harpies were striking was different from before.

In the commander's eyes, the two men's responses were clearly visible.

He saw it, but since their movements were beyond the realm of his understanding, he still had no words to say.

The soldier holding the axes bent his body to dodge the flying talons, then swung his axe.

He only registered the fact that it had been swung.

Yet before he knew it, the harpy's head was vertically split open with a *crack*.

The harpy with its split head plummeted to the ground, leaving a mark like a burst tomato with a *splat*. A long trail of blood from skidding on the ground, the profusely spilled monster blood, and a harpy with a busted head.

Another one had died.

That was the sight caused by the axe strike.

The remaining soldier pulled a similar stunt yet again.

The soldier who had torn the first harpy's wing raised his sword, then swung downwards vertically once more.

How could he possibly do that?

He swung his sword, and it looked as though the harpy was lunging directly into the path of the blade.

This was the result of swinging the sword by predicting the harpy's movements.

If this wasn't another stunt, what was it?

THWACK!

However, perhaps his aim was slightly off this time, as he struck the harpy's chest.

The soldier's sword cleaved through the harpy's upper body, but the soldier also lost his grip on the sword.

Not that it changed anything.

SCREEK.

The sword was lodged right between the harpy's cleavage, which resembled the breasts of a human woman.

The monster rolled across the ground with a *thud*, scattering blood once again.

Since it had split and crushed its internal organs.

That one was as good as dead too.

The commander unconsciously raised his gaze upwards.

The remaining number of harpies was eight.

They hadn't been able to kill a single one on this side, yet three had died the moment these two showed up.

'The Border Guard?'

The commander had misunderstood their identities. Because their skills were far too overwhelming to view them as mere ordinary soldiers.

Was this what it meant to be a special-grade soldier?

He had heard rumors about the Frontier Slaughterers before transferring here.

But he didn't think it was to this extent.

Then, the commander's eyes caught sight of a portion of a group approaching from behind the two men.

All of them were carrying projectile weapons, such as javelins, longbows, and crossbows.

Men wearing cloaks and epaulettes bearing the emblem of an eagle.

It was the real Border Guard.

The guardsman leading them also assessed the situation. He had witnessed it directly with his own two eyes.

'His skills.'

They had improved even more. To the point where he could no longer confidently say he would win easily.

The one leading the guard unit was Torres.

A Platoon Commander of the Border Guard who had ties with Encrid in various ways.

It was foolish to gauge an opponent's skill just by seeing them kill monsters.

However, Torres had no confidence in pulling off a stunt like that against flying harpies.

And doing it twice in a row, even less so.

'By pure luck?'

Torres had the exact same thought as the heavy armored infantry platoon commander.

But at that exact timing, a third harpy swooped down.

Torres's gaze dropped from the harpy to the ground below.

There, he saw Encrid pulling his sword from the chest of the harpy he had just killed.

"Hey!"

Torres shouted. It was a warning to look up.

* * *

What should he call this?

Encrid connected the dots.

Sliced through time.

And swung his sword as his intuition guided him.

As a result, he severed the wing of the first harpy.

"Whew."

Rem whistled from beside him. The dizzying resistance left in his grip conveyed the heavy weight of the swooping monster harpy.

It felt cuttable.

There was no strain. After that, he raised his sword once again. A harpy flew in, and this time, he slashed through the dead center of its chest and let go of his sword.

If he had held onto it, his grip would have been torn apart.

His judgment was precise.

A strike that connected point to point, a sword slash imbued with strength.

The result was the monster's death.

As Encrid bent his waist and struck downward with his sword, a harpy's talons passed right over his head.

The *swoosh* of air being cleaved was chilling, but it didn't feel dangerous.

'I just have to dodge.'

It was a simple attack pattern.

Dodge, slash, and stab. It was the application of swordsmanship.

He casually walked over, placed his foot over the dead harpy's jiggling breast—right around where a human's collarbone would be—and pulled out his sword.

"Screeek."

It had a tenacious vitality. Its chest was half split open, and its internal organs were spilling out, yet it was still blinking its eyes.

It was still alive.

Encrid was looking at the harpy he had cut, but his senses were focused on his surroundings, particularly keeping an eye on the harpy plunging from above.

Even without looking, he could feel the ripples in the air.

His senses were clearer than ever before.

"Hey!"

A shout rang out, but he was already in motion before that.

He impaled the dying harpy's wing with the tip of his sword and applied force.

CRACK!

A load was placed on the muscles of both his arms, and strength surged all the way down to his waist and thighs.

He hoisted the dying harpy straight upwards.

SMASH!

The swooping harpy slammed right into it and tumbled away.

After blocking a harpy with a harpy, Encrid rolled to the side, applying the concept of deflection to disperse the impact.

It was an intentional and anticipated movement meant to dissipate the remaining shock from his body.

Standing up as soon as he rolled, Encrid dashed over and brought his sword down on the head of the harpy that had fallen to the ground.

The blade slammed down as if chopping firewood, splitting the harpy's head wide open with a *crack*.

That made four.

Rem killed one, and Encrid had killed three.

And the first one that fell already had a crossbow bolt driven into its head by a nearby soldier anyway.

Flap, flap. The flock of harpies that had been fluttering their wings overhead began to distance themselves one by one. Harpies were creatures that didn't fight losing battles.

The bastards had fled.

Encrid swallowed his regret internally as he let his arms hang limp.

'Just a few more times.'

He wanted to fight. He needed to accumulate more experience. He was still in the middle of practicing and reviewing what he had learned.

He needed more live combat to adapt and learn.

If he had that, he felt like he could fully engrain what he gained in the sewers into his body.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Rem said with a chuckle from beside him. Being a quick-witted barbarian, it seemed he had already caught on to his condition.

"Anyone watching would call you crazy, but with this much, it's safe to say your skills are extraordinary now. Still, it really is quite a marvel. I did think you needed actual combat, but how did you manage to get like this in just a single day?"

He wasn't digging deeply into it, but he was expressing his doubt. It was only natural. How could it be considered normal to achieve such exponential growth in a single day with the worst talent imaginable?

Encrid spat out his usual excuse.

"I just got lucky."

Rem knew that skills couldn't be fostered this way by mere luck. However, he had no intention of arguing about it.

What did it matter anyway?

Seeing this guy swinging his sword with such excitement made it fun for him as well.

"In the past, there was a time when I barely survived being chased by harpies."

Encrid muttered.

"Is that right?"

"There was."

It wasn't exactly a statement filled with emotion or meaning. It was just acknowledging that such a thing had happened.

Encrid recalled the comrades who had died back then. And then he brushed it off.

'This probably doesn't count as revenge.'

But at the very least, he felt satisfaction in killing the flock of harpies. That his regret was larger was simply unavoidable.

"You two, what's your affiliation—no, wait."

The commander who had been holding out with his defensive turtle-shell formation approached them.

He seemed dumbfounded.

"4th Company, 4th Platoon, 4th Squad Leader Encrid."

He spoke, answering with a military salute.

"A Squad Leader? Not the Border Guard?"

Nope.

"The Border Guard is over here."

A familiar face, Torres, approached. He spoke as he raised his hand.

Even so, his gaze didn't leave Encrid. His eyes swept over Encrid from head to toe.

He felt like asking what on earth he had done.

How could his skills have improved this much?

"We did come to provide backup, but..."

They hadn't even been able to fire a single arrow.

What the hell was this?

Soon after, the 4th Platoon Commander of the heavy armored infantry company and Torres exchanged brief greetings and wrapped up the situation.

Encrid listened to their conversation before suddenly asking a question.

It was a rather important matter to him.

"Is it over?"

"... What are you asking?"

"The monster subjugation, I was wondering if it's over now."

What is this, why is he asking?

Two light armored infantrymen who killed four harpies.

Two ordinary soldiers had saved a heavy armored infantry platoon. It wasn't exactly a monumental achievement, but it was certainly something worthy of a reward.

Yet one of them was seriously asking if this was the end.

And the other guy, who looked like a barbarian, was busy giggling beside him.

What the hell was up with this crazy bastard duo?

The platoon commander thought as he answered.

"Our original strike target is the subjugation of the human-faced dog pack, so it's not the end."

The platoon commander hadn't forgotten the purpose of their dispatch. Due to a pack of human-faced dogs forming a group around the Border Guard, merchant associations and peddlers had been left stranded.

Wasn't that the reason they had set out?

It wasn't as if the pack of human-faced dogs had appeared on the roads outside the city walls where the merchant associations traveled.

But judging from the fact that they were appearing one or two at a time nearby, it was obvious a problem would soon arise.

This was a mission to guarantee the safety of the city by subjugating the monsters and beasts in the vicinity.

"I'd like to join you."

At Encrid's words, the platoon commander thought to himself.

'Is he saying he wants to fight more? He looks like he's itching for a fight. Are my eyes playing tricks on me?'

His eyes weren't playing tricks on him; they were perfectly accurate.

What the platoon commander saw was the correct answer.