Swordmaster of the Great Wall

Chapter 192



Ungrim and Hrung-ga, having landed, surveyed their surroundings.

They found themselves in a perilous situation, surrounded by the dead.

The holy knights had managed to push the creatures back, but space was still too cramped for the rest in the sky to land.

Hrung-ga roared loudly.

[Kill those bastards!]

― Oooooh!

The barbarians shouted in unison.

Only moments ago, they seemed about to vomit from the aftermath of the fall, but as soon as they faced their enemies, the barbarians' expressions hardened in an instant.

Hrung-ga gripped his club and swung it toward the dead. A death knight moved to block Hrung-ga's path, but—

― Splatt!-

It didn't even take a fraction of a second for the skull to burst.

Immediately after, both of Hrung-ga's eyes blazed with light. Something faint circled around his body.

Even after the death knight fell, the dead kept charging at Hrung-ga, but the biting wind that surrounded him tore them to pieces.

― Ripppp!-

As the dead were torn apart by the biting wind, a blue, bloody storm raged.

Hrung-ga then gave an audacious smile and threw a challenging look at Ungrim.

In response, Ungrim stepped forward indifferently. Several death knights rushed at Ungrim as well, but—

― Thud!-

The first death knight to lunge at Ungrim found its skull seized by Ungrim's hand.

As the thick veins bulged on Ungrim's massive forearm, the death knight's considerable skull imploded in a fantastical, unreal manner.

― Crunch!-

The sight made the charging death knights recoil. Their instincts carved a new priority deep inside: not to be hit, even once, by Ungrim.

But that lasted only a moment.

Ungrim, gripping the now-headless death knight, swung the fluttering corpse in a wide arc.

― Whooom!-

With a sonic boom, a shockwave washed over the hesitating death knights.

Those caught in its path were obliterated without a trace.

Next, Ungrim cast a subtle smile at Hrung-ga. It seemed Hrung-ga's pride was stung.

― Waaah!-

Their fierce display boosted the morale of the barbarians.

Overcoming the surging dead, the barbarians began pushing past the holy knights and commenced their advance.

From all around came the sounds of flesh being torn and armor shattering.

Yet such savage cacophony only excited the barbarians further.

Battle frenzy swept across the field, engulfing the barbarians. There was no fear in them now.

They were born as battle machines, created solely for confronting the dead.

The barbarians, descendants of such warriors, strove to prove their worth as they competed to butcher the dead.

Ungrim, however, seemed uneasy. Though he dispatched even Death Fears with ease, his face did not show satisfaction.

[... That bastard. He's done something unnecessary.]

[Who do you mean?]

[Erich, of course.]

[... What did he do?]

Hrung-ga looked genuinely puzzled.

But Ungrim knew this situation—where even the holy knights and barbarians were slaughtering the dead one-sidedly—was not due solely to their own strength.

Ungrim's gaze drifted to Erich, still lingering in the sky. Even as he glanced upward, dead burst apart in his fists.

[He burned his own life force to strengthen us.]

[... R-really?]

[Didn't you think it was strange how we're trampling Death Fears like bugs?]

[Wasn't I just stronger?]

Hrung-ga blinked. Ungrim muttered under his breath, "You really are hopelessly simple, aren't you?"

Nevertheless, Ungrim agreed that this was the best possible method.

No matter how incredible Erich's power was, facing this many dead alone would be daunting.

Thus, Erich bestowed his power onto others, much as his god, Incensus, had once granted him strength.

After his battle with Albrecht and his deepened understanding of divine ritual, Erich had become capable of this.

Now, the power he conferred was not simply protection from the cold, but an enhancement of each individual's stats.

The space gradually opened up.

Each time a landing zone was cleared, new barbarians parachuted down from the sky, filling the gaps left by the wounded.

The unceasing influx of dead was now being pushed back by the warriors carving a path in the front.

The elite of the Watch continued dropping in—Barnes, Frederick, and the outstanding swordsmen from each fortress all joined one after another.

Even so, their destination remained distant. The ominous, mountain-like silhouette of the dragon still seemed far away.

It might have been possible to drop directly near the dragon, but Erich had decided for an earlier landing.

Ungrim understood that decision.

The area where the dragon resided was far more strongly fortified than here, and the quality of the dead there was on a completely different level.

Thus, instead of gambling everything, Erich chose to break through the comparatively weaker side first.

― Crack!-

Ungrim dodged the tentacle of a Death Fear hurtling toward him, his reflexes now outpacing even his sight.

At the very least, Erich's empowerment felt as though it had nearly doubled Ungrim's strength.

-... Ungrim!-

A dying Death Fear let out a final scream. The words made Ungrim's eyes tremble.

He looked at the dead swept away by the allied forces.

Of the immortal legions, the Death Fear and some others were ancient beings forged long ago by the Lord of the Dead.

Just like the Death Fear whom Ungrim had personally dispatched, these were beings from the distant past.

But steadying himself, Ungrim dove once more into the horde.

The dead were not monstrous creatures that had suddenly appeared. Voluntarily or not, every one of them had once been human.

Some still retained remnants of human memory, while others had lost all sanity.

For those like Ungrim, who remembered their past, the knowledge that these had once been people was unbearable.

Still, Ungrim crushed the heads of Death Fears and death knights alike, muttering quietly,

[Traitors!]

Gradually, the madness of battle overtook Ungrim as well.

Engulfed by the heat of combat, he lost half his reason and swept away all the visible dead.

And in that moment—

― Slash!-

Ungrim instinctively pulled back. But a swiftly extending tentacle grazed his cheek, leaving a deep wound across his face.

Ungrim quickly regained his composure.

While his physical abilities had been enhanced, at the end of the day, he was only human.

One slip—one attack getting through—would mean being cleaved in two.

The Death Fear that struck him twisted its mouth into a cold smile, the grotesquerie seeming almost like a grin.

But then—

― Slash!-

Something appeared behind the creature and cleanly severed the Death Fear's neck.

Figures garbed in black moved through the dead in all directions, dispatching threatening enemies with precise blows.

They did not speak. Only their leader, it seemed, relayed silent signals to direct their actions.

Ungrim already knew their name.

[... Shadow.]

In the confusion where friend and foe were thoroughly mixed, the Shadows displayed tremendous power.

They moved so stealthily that one could miss them even when looking directly their way.

In an instant, they brought death to the dead distracted by enemies before them.

Yet, despite their prowess, the Shadows remained mere mortals.

Those unable to maneuver perfectly were impaled by Death Fear tentacles—

― Crunch!-

—or crushed in half beneath the massive greatswords of death knights.

― Splatt!-

Even so, none of them screamed.

On the contrary, even as they were impaled or cleaved, they spent their final breaths whittling away at the fighting force of the dead.

A single order came from among the Shadows.

"Eradicate the successor's enemies!"

The cry spurred the Shadows to even greater effort, as if inspired by a general's exhortation.

Although their shock impact was less than those with better equipment—

― Boom!-

With a horrifying noise, several Shadows were flung through the air.

A gigantic death knight, blue blood dripping, swung its greatsword in all directions.

The Shadows climbing atop the creature were soon thrown off. At that moment, Ungrim's gaze shifted to the monster.

But as Ungrim moved to approach, something heavy fell from above.

― Thud!-

A knight in full plate landed, absorbing the impact, and raised his spear, thrusting the tip between the monster's greatsword and its body.

― Crack!-

Between the helmet's slit, a steadfast gaze shone through.

The indomitable resolve was unmistakable; this was Milon, the knight bearing the crest of the House Roland.

The death knight, impaled by Milon's spear, swung its sword in a clumsy arc.

Milon quickly raised his shield, trading several blows with the creature.

Milon might very well have the least skill among those present.

Moreover, he was less accustomed to fighting the dead than the others.

― Crack!-

As expected, the death knight's heavy greatsword split Milon's shield in two.

Yet, even with a broken shield, Milon deftly deflected the monster's attacks.

In pure technical skill, Milon would not have been able to face off against this enhanced death knight.

Even with Erich's bestowed power, Milon, not being a Swordmaster, had his limits.

Nevertheless, Milon did not retreat.

He redirected the death knight's attacks as much as possible, sometimes catching its club-like sword on his pauldron,

And stood firm with the maximum defense a knight could muster.

At a glance, it might seem Milon was merely being battered by the death knight.

However—

― Ting!-

In an instant, the death knight's sword glanced off Milon's helmet, and Milon seized the opening, driving his blade into its armor.

― Crack!-

Milon twisted the blade, severing the creature's spinal cord.

The massive death knight toppled forward.

Milon, expressionless, held his broken shield, standing tall as other dead rushed at him.

But in the next moment, Milon narrowed his eyes.

Icicles began rising around him. No matter how skilled, could a knight withstand proper magic?

Yet Milon did not waver. He simply readied himself to weather the assault.

Perhaps, to Milon, that was a knight's duty on the battlefield.

But then, something caught his eye behind the storm—

― Fwoosh!-

From above, a torrent of intense heat and light, like a newly risen sun, blazed forth.

Simultaneously, the icicles forming to impale Milon melted away in an instant.

A slow grin spread over Milon's lips.

Erich, who had been observing from above, now descended into the heart of the dead.

He didn't even draw his sword. He simply floated slowly downward from the sky.

But the golden aura blazing around him was visible and intense.

And as he touched down—

― Fzzzzzt!-

A wave of circular, golden flame radiated outward, instantly reducing the surrounding dead to ashes.

― Sizzle—

The crimson-eyed gaze of Erich, burning with a vermilion light, turned toward the dead blocking the way to the dragon.

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