Chapter 49 - Once You Have Faced the Mysterious, You Can Never Return to the Way You Were (3)

Just as knights use mana, Orc Warriors use Fighting Spirit.

To them, Fighting Spirit was a power that made the blades of rusty axes sharper, and a means to make their bodies stronger.

The more battles an Orc fought, and the more enemies he slaughtered, the stronger the Fighting Spirit he gained.

Fighting Spirit was the absolute standard by which an Orc's excellence as a warrior was judged.

Yet on rare occasions, mutants were born possessing tremendous Fighting Spirit from the start.

They were larger than ordinary Orcs, more savage, and stronger.

Given the nature of Orcs, who hated powerful challengers, most of them were killed before they fully matured.

But among them, there were rare ones who survived to the end.

Whether that was due to luck or something else did not matter.

All that mattered was that the mutant Orcs who survived were special beings.

They were more sensitive to Fighting Spirit and bloodlust than anyone else, and could even see those formless energies with their eyes.

The Orcs called it the special ability of [Open Eye] and worshiped it.

And this special ability of [Open Eye] was precisely why they came to be known as Knight Slayers.

Because what the Knight Slayers could see was not limited to Fighting Spirit and bloodlust.

The mutant Orcs were beings who could see the mana flowing inside knights, and terrible monsters capable of predicting a knight's next move before he had even made it.

Calling them nightmares was no exaggeration.

"I cannot believe such an Orc exists in this world."

"I have fought countless Orcs until now, but I have never seen or even heard of such an Orc."

"Open Eye? Is that not far too grand an ability for a mere Orc?"

After hearing my explanation, Vincent and the commanders expressed strong disbelief.

I clicked my tongue and warned them.

"Once your hands and feet are blocked before you can even thrust your sword, you'll have no choice but to believe it, whether you want to or not."

They would find out once they experienced it anyway, so I had no intention of wearing out my mouth with a long explanation.

"But the problem right now is not the knights."

Besides, the real problem lay elsewhere.

"A Knight Slayer is a born commander."

"He may not know tactics or strategy, but he knows better than anyone how to break an enemy."

Because a Knight Slayer could see.

Among tightly packed infantry, he could see where the morale was especially weak, and where the surging morale was headed.

He would find the weakest point in the morale and dig into it.

He would see with his own eyes where the sharpest morale was aimed and defend against it.

When attacking, he was as persistent as a snake; when defending, as solid as a rock.

Where could there be a better commander than that?

The problem was that he was not on our side, but the enemy's.

"You have never said anything wrong so far, so your words must be true this time as well."

At the infinite trust contained in my maternal uncle's words, the leaders of Winter Castle widened their eyes.

"But we cannot help but confirm it."

After glancing at me, my maternal uncle received a spear from the soldier beside him.

"Let us see whether that Orc..."

With a strange ring, a peculiar wave spread out.

At the same time, my maternal uncle's forearm swelled for an instant.

"...is worthy of the arrogant name Knight Slayer."

No sooner had he finished speaking than my maternal uncle hurled the spear.

SWOOSH!

A black trajectory tore through the sky as it flew.

A spear thrown in earnest by a Quad Chain knight who had shaken off his Inner Demon had a power that was indeed extraordinary.

But it was a futile act.

From the moment my maternal uncle took the spear and stood on the wall, the Knight Slayer had been watching this side.

Before anyone knew it, a blade overflowing with crimson Fighting Spirit rose and cut through the air.

BOOM!

With an explosive sound, the spear my maternal uncle had thrown was knocked away.

The Knight Slayer looked this way and split his mouth wide.

It was an exceedingly ferocious and hungry smile.

His face looked as if he were gazing at a lavishly prepared feast.

The Knight Slayer stretched out his hand.

An Orc beside him picked up the spear rolling on the ground and handed it to him.

The Knight Slayer took a short run-up and hurled the spear just like that.

The spear flew in with an ear-splitting sound as it cut through the air.

THUD.

My maternal uncle caught the spear with his hand.

"If nothing else, I can tell he is the sort who cannot bear to lose."

After dispersing the Fighting Spirit contained in the spear and dusting off his hands, my maternal uncle gave a faint laugh.

It seemed that seeing such a powerful enemy for the first time in his life had set his competitive spirit boiling.

Watching him, a laugh slipped out of me before I knew it.

Now this finally has a bit of a Sword Master feel to it.

It felt as though some memories were coming back, fresh and vivid.

"Ian."

After briefly engaging in a contest of wills with the Knight Slayer, my maternal uncle turned to look at me.

"If I am not mistaken, you seem to know how to deal with that being called a Knight Slayer."

At my maternal uncle's words, Vincent and the other leaders of Winter Castle widened their eyes.

"I have no idea why you would think that."

When I answered indifferently, my maternal uncle burst into hearty laughter.

"Look at your own face."

"My face?"

I touched my face.

The corners of my mouth were twitching, and the muscles in my face were quivering.

"You have the face of a knight who has just been bestowed a treasured sword."

A face itching to test how sharp the newly acquired treasured sword was.

It seemed my maternal uncle had taken my expression that way.

I did not deny it.

Because my maternal uncle's words were true.

How delightful the air of Winter Castle was, with a great foe called the Warlord and a formidable enemy called the Knight Slayer before us.

It felt as though I had returned to a time long, long ago.

The only difference was that I was now a human, not a sword inside a scabbard.

That made it even more enjoyable.

This killing intent and battle will brushing against my skin were heating me up.

I was itching to use all the knowledge, experience, and power I possessed with this body.

"Hmm."

The faces of the people staring at me went pale.

Apparently, I had been showing what was inside me far too plainly.

Belatedly, I hid my expression.

Ahem, I cleared my throat with a fake cough, composed my voice, and opened my mouth.

"All of his judgments follow only the special ability of [Open Eye]."

The Knight Slayer's command was efficient, but it had an innate weakness.

It was the fact that he could not help relying too much on what he could see.

Even if what appeared to those eyes was close to the essence.

"But things in this world are never only what can be seen, are they?"

In the end, what the Knight Slayer could see was only an extremely small part of the essence.

"Besides, no matter how patient he is, he is still an Orc."

"And among Orcs, there is no virtue of yielding the most delicious delicacy to another."

And for a Knight Slayer who had been granted the glory of the vanguard by the Warlord, there would be no delicacy sweeter than victory.

"Let us set the table properly for him."

What we had to do was set the stage so that he could return from a cunning commander to a beastlike Orc, and stimulate his inborn appetite.

"So that a starving bastard will be unable to keep himself from sitting at the table."

* * *

"Absolutely not!"

"It is too dangerous!"

The ambitious plan I brought up ran into difficulty from the very start.

"I told you."

"He can see everything."

"A clumsy trick won't work."

"Even so, there are other suitable candidates."

"There is no need for Your Highness to be the bait yourself."

Despite Vincent's repeated opposition, I explained over and over just how excellent a bait I was.

"The Rangers and the knights of Winter Castle won't do."

"In the Knight Slayer's eyes, you people will neither look that tasty nor that easy."

The knights and Rangers of Winter Castle, hardened by countless real battles, were different from their very energy.

Even standing still, the aura they gave off was that of veterans of a hundred battles, so there was no way to fool the Knight Slayer's eyes no matter what we did.

"And if we leave it to recruits and green knights, they'll just get broken through before they can even do anything."

"See?"

"My men and I are perfect for this."

The royal infantry were elite soldiers no less than the Rangers, but they had almost no real combat experience.

They were well trained, but their morale was no different from recruits, so they were perfect for luring the Knight Slayer.

"Then we can find suitable candidates among the knights and deploy them with the royal infantry."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why would I entrust my soldiers to someone else?"

The time to attack was approaching, yet Vincent and the leaders of Winter Castle kept interfering, so I grew impatient.

"Think calmly."

"Who are you going to deploy in my place?"

"Two circuits?"

"If even one or two Orc Warriors climb up, they'll be too busy cutting them down to care about soldiers or anything else."

"Then will you increase the number?"

"Then this operation becomes meaningless from the start, doesn't it?"

When I snapped back with question after question, Vincent closed his mouth.

"To be honest, I still do not understand why we must go this far."

"Even without using such a dangerous method, Winter Castle is fully capable of holding them off."

Vincent's words were not wrong.

If it was this fortress, which had endured countless winters until now, it would not fall even if the enemy was a Knight Slayer.

But we would suffer considerable losses.

And in that battered state, we would end up facing the enemy's main force.

That absolutely had to be avoided.

Because the true enemy was not some Knight Slayer, but the mighty being called the Warlord.

"If we do not end the battle as quickly as possible, Winter Castle will fall in the next battle."

Vincent and the commanders' expressions turned grim.

It seemed my words had touched their pride.

But I could not wait any longer either.

Since revealing his existence for the first time last night, the Warlord had not hidden his presence for even a moment.

It was as if he were declaring himself the king of this area.

And that enormous presence was drawing closer to Winter Castle with every passing moment even now.

It was a leisurely procession befitting a king, but not much time remained until they arrived at Winter Castle.

"Uncle."

Unable to endure it any longer, I asked my maternal uncle for help.

"There is no time, so this time, we will do as Ian says."

My maternal uncle kept his gaze fixed beyond the mountain range and did not even turn his head.

It seemed he had only just begun to feel the Warlord's presence.

That was a relief.

Since he had felt it now, the hints I had worn out my mouth giving him about performance and whatnot had not been in vain.

"We do not know when that Knight Slayer will climb the wall."

"If it is delayed, we may have to fight through the night for days."

Only belatedly did my maternal uncle look back at me and speak.

Can you endure it?

My maternal uncle's gaze asked that.

I looked to the side for a moment.

Arwen was looking at me with a tense face.

And beside her was a maid whose face, completely cowed, seemed to say, Where is this, and who am I?

My secret weapon, which I had been unable to control before, but could now control after reaching Extraordinary Grade.

Looking at the descendant of the Sword Marquis, I said,

"I will kill every last one that climbs up."

At my words, my maternal uncle pondered for a long while.

His face showed that he was wondering whether there was any need to take such a dangerous measure while deliberately exposing a weakness.

But there was no time to think for long in the face of the Warlord's presence beyond the mountains.

"If it seems dangerous, I will cancel the operation immediately and restore the troop deployment to its original state."

In the end, my maternal uncle decided to follow my words.

"One week only."

He did add the condition that if the Knight Slayer did not move personally, everything would be restored to normal after a week, but that did not matter.

The Knight Slayer would definitely appear before then.

Because I would make him.

* * *

BWOOOOOO!

A horn sounded in the fortress.

The Orcs were charging in, pitch-black in number.

The pure white snowfield was covered by a dark green wave.

"Shoot!"

The Rangers fired all at once.

The Orcs carrying hooks and ladders were the top-priority targets.

SCREECH!

With screams, Orcs collapsed.

But the number of Orcs who fell like that was not great.

The Orcs raised shields and blocked the hail of arrows.

But the emblem engraved on the shields they thrust forward looked familiar.

A pattern of three overlapping shields.

It was the symbol of House Ballorhard.

Those shields were probably among the trophies the Orcs had accumulated over dozens of winters.

Here and there, Rangers who saw the shields spat curses.

I stood quietly on the wall and watched the sight.

The sound of bowstrings being drawn filled the entire wall.

The Rangers of Winter Castle were pouring down such a hail of arrows that the phrase arrow rain was truly fitting.

Countless Orcs without shields fell.

But the Orcs surrounding Winter Castle numbered no fewer than four thousand.

They were not all going to die just because we shot some arrows.

The Orcs, who had been steadfastly advancing through the arrow rain, finally reached the foot of the wall.

THUNK.

The first hook caught on the wall.

That was the beginning.

Hooks caught all over the wall, and ladders were set up.

The crude hooks were cut away by knights with their swords, and the ladders were pushed away by soldiers working together.

BARK! BARK!

At that moment, Wolf Riders appeared on the battlefield.

These giant wolves, different from ordinary wolves from birth, leapt up several rungs of the crude ladders at a time.

"Knights, stop the Wolf Riders from breaking in!"

No sooner had my maternal uncle shouted than the distinctive Sword Resonance of Knights of the Ring burst out from all over the wall.

A Wolf Rider with its belly torn open rolled straight down below the wall.

The rider died with his neck broken, and the Orcs crushed beneath the huge body also screamed and wailed.

"Pour!"

At that moment, the waiting soldiers poured down boiling oil.

SCREEEEECH!

The Orcs, engulfed in yellow flames, screamed.

Arrows with burning tips flew in.

WHOOSH!

Flames surged up.

A pile of stones rained down over them.

The Orcs died amid screams.

Yet even so, they were stubbornly climbing the wall.

I looked to the side.

"Push!"

"Hah!"

The royal infantry in charge of the western wall were putting up an astonishing fight.

Unlike the Rangers, they were fighting with the idea of pushing the Orcs off rather than killing them, but given the height of the wall, the Orcs pushed off that way were practically as good as dead.

As expected, when it came to group combat, the royal infantry were elites no less than the Rangers.

Beside them, Arwen was running about, scattering her sword madly.

She was truly like a fish in water, and her flushed face even looked excited.

But that only lasted for a short while.

No matter how many of their own kind died, the Orcs charged in endlessly.

After enduring like that for several hours, the royal infantry began to pant from exhaustion, and the sound of Arwen's Sword Resonance had also grown incomparably weaker than at the start.

I looked at them as they gasped for breath, then looked at the other walls.

In contrast, the Rangers and knights of Winter Castle were dealing with the enemy as calmly as they had at the beginning.

The difference in experience was slowly starting to show.

I stood still and felt that morale on the verge of collapse.

The slowly growing fear brushed against my skin.

And this fear must have reached not only me, but the Knight Slayer as well.

AWWOOOOO!

At that moment, a giant wolf crawled up onto the wall.

Looking at the deformed wolf running up the ladder as if it were stairs, I shouted,

"Now the real thing begins!"

I felt the Orcs' Fighting Spirit surge in the distance.

"Arwen!"

"Take care of the Wolf Riders!"

"Make sure they never set foot on the wall!"

With a stiff face, Arwen wrapped her grip around her sword and ran along the wall as if performing acrobatics.

As though they had coordinated in advance, three wolves leapt up onto the wall, only for their bellies to be cut open and their legs severed by her sword before they fell outside.

This was only the beginning.

The Wolf Riders who had been pressing every side of the wall swarmed toward this place.

Yet despite that, the Knight Slayer still did not reveal himself.

He must be waiting for this side to fall apart a little more.

I had no intention of watching him leisurely wait for the food to cook.

"Hah!"

I adjusted my grip on Twilight and exhaled.

A blue flame caught at the tip of the sword.

The flame of requiem that burned Orcs and consoled souls.

As if to show it off, I stood against the wall and raised my sword upright toward the sky.

RUMBLE.

As if responding to that flame, a massive energy rose in the distance.