Swordmaster of the Great Wall

Tension draped over everyone's faces.

Even though they were elite members of the Watch who had endured harsh times at the 6th Fortress, for most, this was their first time fighting the dead, and this included even Frederick and Barnes.

As they advanced toward the enemy, Erich spoke up.

"Frederick, tell everyone—they must behead them, no matter what."

"Understood."

Frederick shouted loudly, his words about beheading echoing sharply.

At that very moment, while everyone was marching in step toward the enemy—

From the very rear of the dead's ranks, Erich spotted Joseph.

'... That's...'

Upon closer look, Joseph was holding a staff with an orb attached.

A gentle white energy flowed from it, reminiscent of the frost harnessed by the dead.

'Is he controlling the dead with the power imbued in that staff?'

Yet what mattered more was: from whom had he received that staff?

Finally, Erich drew his sword.

—Clack.

At the same time, the members drew their swords in a wave, and the light reflected on the snowy field flashed off a thousand blades.

—Grrrr.

Before anyone realized, the army of the dead had approached so near that their breaths—rolling their white eyes in uncontrollable greed for flesh—could be felt. The rotting stench of their flesh filled the battlefield.

Gustav's voice resounded.

"Squad—halt!"

—Shuffle.

The dead still advanced toward them, while the members stood their ground, swords pointed forward, bristling like a hedgehog aimed at the dead.

In that instant when the living's breaths ceased, Erich was the first to charge.

—Shhaaa!

In an instant, Erich beheaded the lunging dead. The thread of murderous intent toward him grew taut.

'... Their reaction isn't fast.'

—Boom! Clang!

The Watch's line collided directly with the wave of the dead. They withstood, doing everything not to be swept away by the onslaught.

In a flash, the mass of both sides crashed against each other. The front-line members desperately swung their swords.

"Do not retreat!"

—Shhaaa!

Erich spotted Frederick encouraging the members while cutting down the dead. He was a veteran, indeed.

Against dead that didn't stop even as their skin was sliced, others might falter, but Frederick pressed in without a moment's hesitation.

While he didn't clear his surroundings as quickly as Erich, it was still an impressive feat. Then, Erich's eyes gleamed as he drew an arc with his sword, decapitating three dead at once.

—Woooong.

Golden aura flared and wavered on the blade, swinging toward the dead.

—Whooosh!

Not only were they cut, but the dead's skin melted rapidly under the searing heat of the golden aura. Erich's eyes widened at the sight.

'... That's quite effective?'

It was exceedingly so. Erich already knew that golden aura was much like flame, but this was a different magnitude compared to when used against humans.

The fire set on those creatures didn't die out; it only grew fiercer. The flames even spread to other dead nearby.

—Grrrrrk!

This unexpected outcome was a bonus, so Erich decided to test it once more.

He raised the output of his aura even higher, slicing another golden arc.

—Whooosh!

The blade, wreathed in flame, pierced through two of the dead, latching onto a third.

Those already decapitated burned, while the last one turned to ash before his eyes.

A smile crept to Erich's lips.

'This isn't just good—it's extraordinary.'

For a Swordmaster, aura usually served as an aid for wielding the sword. For example, to cut what could not be cut, or to reach distant targets.

But against these dead, Erich's aura worked like a wizard's blazing fire, and even its power and efficiency outclassed magic utterly.

He could even see the minute flow in the dead—their bodies, which should have regenerated, did not. The flame of Erich's aura was preventing their regeneration.

'... This is something I can use even more effectively.'

—Skraatch!

Riding this momentum, Erich dragged the tip of his sword across the ground. Golden sparks ignited, and the blade, now flaming, once again cut a path through the dead.

Ash piles of dead began to accumulate around him. Erich's sword only stopped when he noticed a change among the ranks of the dead.

—Crash! Thud!

From the side, the line of the dead collapsed under heavy force. This meant Franz and the deserter dead had joined in on time.

And the fact that their line was being pushed in this direction meant that the Watch's relatively weak right wing had held out well. As a result, Erich's tactic had succeeded perfectly.

Now all that remained was to encircle the dead. Smashing the face of a charging dead, Erich shouted,

"Left wing—charge forward now!"

The left wing, led by Erich, pressed in against the dead. As their line broke completely, the uplifted members shouted,

—Kill them all!

—Wipe them out!

Soon, Barnes swung his sword through their ranks, dodging the dead's snapping jaws, repeatedly beheading them as he pushed forward.

'... He must be trying to get to Joseph.'

According to Erich's calculations, if they kept pressing, they could completely surround Joseph at the rear.

If he wished, he could use more aura to devastate the enemy in an instant.

But Erich conserved as much of his aura as possible. In his judgment, this battle wouldn't end just by eliminating Joseph... what happened after would be more important.

—Crunch!

"Graaaagh!"

Ordinarily, the enemy would lose all will and be defeated at this point. But the dead knew no such thing as morale. So even as they were being cornered, the Watch's casualties continued to rise.

No matter how fiercely the dead charged, they couldn't overcome the weight of being surrounded. Before long, the encircled dead were left only to be run through by the awaiting swords.

—Snap! Crackle! Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel·fıre·net

Erich smiled, confident of their victory. Whatever tricks Joseph had left, it'd be difficult to overturn the situation now.

His gaze shifted to Joseph, who rolled his eyes in disbelief as the dead were being massacred one-sidedly.

Joseph and his researchers were slowly being backed into a corner by the dead.

Wiping blue blood of the dead from his cheek, Erich spoke to Frederick.

"Frederick, take some men and hit the rear."

Frederick nodded, pointed out several soldiers with wide eyes, and led them in a dash to the rear.

Barnes, on the other hand, had a sharp glare. Whether it was hate or fury burning in his eyes was unclear. Fixing his gaze on Joseph, he smashed another dead's skull.

—Thump!

Just then—

Joseph raised his staff into the air, and the frenzied movements of the dead diminished.

—Grrr...

For a brief moment, a gap formed between both sides. Some Watchmen swung their swords, but things lulled into a stalemate.

Joseph's gaze met Erich at the very front.

"...... I knew from the first meeting you'd be trouble."

"From a corpse-eater, that's a bold claim. You'll be executed on the spot for your crimes alone."

"You call this crime? How does striving to defend the Great Wall become a crime?"

Erich exhaled. Clearly, Joseph didn't truly grasp the danger of the dead. Then again, if he did, he wouldn't have done this.

The researchers beside him looked shaken, pendants denoting heresy jingling at their necks.

"Is that what he taught you? That researching and controlling the dead is how to defend the Great Wall?"

"If not for your meddling, that's what would have happened. At the very least, we could have driven out all those barbarians from this land."

"Have you never thought you'd be driven out hand-in-hand with those barbarians?"

Joseph let out a derisive laugh at Erich's words.

"Look at these dead I command now. Is this the danger you fear so much? Puppets blindly obeying orders—are you really afraid of them?"

"Do you truly think they obey merely because of your orders?"

"Idiot! That's just ignorance from fools like you who've never properly researched the dead. These dead can bring us revolution!"

Joseph declared passionately. Indeed, if they could control the dead, revolution was possible.

Undying, bodies always repairable, and tools that obey their master endlessly. So long as they served that purpose, Joseph's words could come true.

Not only could they defeat the barbarians, but bring about great social reform. Erich could understand the imagined sweet fruit they hoped for.

But Erich knew. There was only ever one true master of the dead—and 'that one' would never ally with humans under any circumstance.

"Do you really think you're the first to come up with this?"

"... What do you mean?"

"All you did was turn corpses or the living into the dead. There's another being that actually resurrected them and granted you the power to control them—the very one who gave you that staff. Isn't that right?"

At Erich's calm words, confusion flashed across Joseph's eyes—wondering how he knew.

—Clack.

Erich rested his sword on his shoulder and fired off another question before Joseph could respond.

"Joseph, there's no such thing in this world as power without price. You're not a child."

"... Nonsense. I don't know how much you think you know, but you're just a common man."

A smile came to Joseph's lips. The clear sky abruptly darkened, and frost-laden mist began to pour in from all directions.

—Grrrrr!

The dead's white eyes burned even brighter. As if incited by something, they stirred with excitement.

—Grrrk!

At the same time, the encircling members murmured in unease. Harsh as the weather might be beyond the Great Wall, such bitter frost-mist was rare even here.

Yet unlike the others, Erich remained calm. He had anticipated this very outcome.

'... No human body can truly control the dead. That fact is unbreakable.'

To Erich's eyes, Joseph was entirely human. If he had been a dead in disguise, Erich would never have missed it. So Joseph must have received power from a being on par with the dead themselves.

It was obvious in retrospect. From within the frost bank, a dark silhouette slowly began to grow. A chilling voice echoed outward.

-... Joseph.

"O, O master of frost!"

Joseph's lips curled even wider. Ecstasy overtook his face. The being now revealed stood as tall as any barbarian, swathed in a robe, a sinister aura emanating from all around him.

One by one, the members spotted the dark apparition and muttered,

"... What is that?"

—Crunch!

Suddenly, six arms sprouted from the back of the figure emerging from the mist.

White leather stretched tightly over its desiccated skin. Around the creature flowed a pallid chill. Each of its six arms twitched to a different rhythm—a monster no one could mistake for human.

Where terror and shock dawned on the faces of others, only Erich regarded it with unshaken familiarity.

He already knew of its existence. From the moment he realized everything led to the dead, he'd anticipated such an appearance.

'Necromancer.'

That was another name for this demon of frost.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

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