Chapter 131 : Victory
Victory
It was similar to what happened with Lantz and Hank. The transparent blue hue that tinged my Sword Energy didn't last long.
Still, the elation of reaching a level on par with theirs right after becoming 4th-rank was overflowing.
'No, maybe I even surpassed them.'
I once again shrouded myself in that transparent Sword Energy and swung.
With a single stroke, offense and defense were achieved simultaneously.
Kwa-ga-ga! Chukat. Clang.
The gap between 3rd-rank and 4th-rank was palpable.
Now I could see, plain as day, why I could never beat Ralph even when I, as a 3rd-rank, could unleash Sword Energy.
4th-rank wasn't just about being able to project Sword Energy at range. The biggest difference between 3rd-rank and 4th-rank was—
'The scope of handling mana and internal energy is completely different.'
Just this one fact opened a whole new dimension in combat.
Suddenly I remembered the day I first spectated the war, drawing analogies between modern warfare and these ranks.
Back then I thought of 3rd-rank as handguns, and 4th-rank as assault rifles. But that was wrong.
'4th-rank is not just an assault rifle, it's wearing full-body bulletproof armor as well.'
With such distinctions between 3rd-rank and 4th-rank, that's probably why squire Schutmann of 5th-rank felt so overwhelmingly strong.
Embracing this conclusion only made my hunger for power even greater. In this world, after all, strength is survival itself.
Chwaaaak!
As I slashed down the last remaining Scarlok and chicken beastkin, blood spattered onto the ground,
'?!'
My eyes were drawn to a chicken beastkin, especially large, shaking a comb that was both massive and blood-dark.
From far off, he was charging at me like a madman, kicking up dust—and I knew instantly who he was, just by looking at his weapon.
'That's the chieftain, Jonar.'
The chieftain of the Red Rooster beastkin always inherited those elongated claws that looked like chicken wings.
Naturally, they were artifacts, and could fetch an extremely high price.
'This made for a pretty lucrative side quest in the early game.'
Without realizing, the corners of my mouth lifted. Then I heard the hoarse roar of the chicken chieftain.
"You leatherhead bastard! My sons!!"
His eyes were completely bloodshot.
Having lost all potential successor cavalry like Scarlok, he had every reason to be furious.
It was obvious he wanted to kill me more than anything as he gained even more speed, but then the battalion commander's Brain Voice sounded in my head after a while.
-「Ian. If you've dealt with Scarlok, that's enough—fall back immediately!」
I could understand the old man's urgent voice. After all—
'Chieftain Jonar is a truly troublesome opponent.'
Just as I was once a 3rd-rank, Jonar was also 4th-rank, but everyone said he was so strong among his rank he had no real rivals.
Thus, company and battalion commanders instructed to always flee if we encountered him.
However—
'Now that I'm 4th-rank, that changes everything.'
Who am I?
I am among the most deep-rooted veterans to ever grind "Belkhazium" for ten years.
While I might not know every piece of lore or the setting, when it comes to items and skills, I was sharper than anyone—a legend of the Belkhazium community, none other than SoupChung!
-「Ian! I understand if your competitive spirit is soaring with your promotion, but you absolutely cannot take him alone!」
Maybe the old man had gotten some rest since his voice was even louder than before, but I didn't look back and instead stared straight at Jonar.
At the same time, I wondered—
'Who's stronger, that chicken beastkin or Jeros?'
Hmm, it's hard to predict the outcome.
Looks like a perfect 50-50 to me.
But if it's a fight between me and chieftain Jonar, there's no question about the result.
Chwa-ja-ja-jat.
Jonar's charging body split into three.
'As expected, he's using that move.'
Again, each of the three split, turning Jonar into nine in total.
For reference, these clones were all real, like a kitsune ninja with nine lives, and as all nine Jonars approached within striking distance, he shouted confidently.
"Even if I die, I'll tear apart as many leatherheads as I can—!"
Chwaaaak!
Black Vein cut through the air—the path it carved left Jonar's head floating in the air.
His suspended head stared at me as if unable to believe what had happened. As if asking how I figured out his skill so quickly.
In response, I delivered a crisp answer, sending him neatly on his way to the afterlife.
"I've killed you so many times—how could I NOT hit the original body?"
Of course, to kill the original, you had to dodge the artifact claw's tricky, unpredictable attacks.
But I'd seen his pattern even more times than I'd caught him—if I couldn't dodge, it would be a problem.
Thunk. Thud.
Jonar's head hit the ground, and nine bodies collapsed across the ground.
The advancing beastkin, who had been charging furiously toward our garrison, suddenly stopped.
Once I confirmed this, I wordlessly turned and walked away.
*
As I entered the garrison entrance, soldiers were assembled in formation.
They were poised, ready to sortie at any moment, but as I cut through their ranks, two men hurried over to me.
"Platoon leader! Are you all right?"
It was Ricky. A far greater respect than before filled his eyes.
"Platoon leadeeeer!!"
Right behind Ricky, Ruth fussed loudly.
"I'm so glad you're unharmed, but... there are rumors you took down Jonar of the Red Claw. Is that... true?"
For a moment, I almost snapped at him, but barely held back. It was because Ruth's pupils began to tremble as he looked at my neck.
"Th-that's..."
Ruth pointed at my scarf, eyes turning red with emotion.
I nearly teared up as well—but now wasn't the time. Instead, I deliberately ignored Ruth and turned to Ricky.
"The battalion commander?"
"If you'll follow me."
I entered the tent Ricky had guided me to and saluted. They had just finished Hank's emergency treatment.
The mood was grim. The supply officer, who had some healing training, spoke with a troubled face.
"He... probably won't make it."
Even at the thought that Hank might die, the battalion commander simply replied stoically.
"Thank you. You are dismissed."
The officer bowed deeply and withdrew. Then, from a corner of the tent, someone spoke up.
"That can't be."
It was Lantz.
Having apparently lost quite a bit of blood, his already pale face was almost ghostly white.
"We can't sacrifice the battalion commander to save Hank."
He must have envisioned giving Legion the battalion commander's OOPArts, and before he could protest further, Legion answered for him.
"Lantz. I'm already equipped with the OOPArts that squire Schutmann had."
Lantz's eyes widened for a moment, then relaxed in relief, letting out a soft sigh.
'Below 4th-rank, you can only equip one OOPArts.'
Even if the battalion commander died, Legion couldn't equip that OOPArts. In other words—
'There's no longer any way to save Hank.'
Truthfully, Hank was in such a critical state, it was surprising his heart was still beating to begin with.
I always knew this could happen, so I chose to save the battalion commander first, but—
'You must feel heavy-hearted, old man.'
It didn't show on his face, but the battalion commander stared silently at Hank.
"......."
How much time passed, I didn't know. It was the old man who finally broke the strained silence.
"Haha. Let's go."
I followed the battalion commander out of the tent. He stood in front of the soldiers.
I took the place where Hank or Ralph would have stood. Being able to watch the old man's speech from behind felt strangely moving.
"There's good news, and there's bad news."
At his words, the soldiers' faces stiffened.
They had eyes too, after all. The battalion commander had lost an arm; Legion, whom everyone thought dead, had returned.
The other commanders were all in rough shape—the anxiety was understandable.
"Normally, I'd joke and ask which you'd like first, but let's start with the bad news."
I could hear some soldiers swallowing nervously as the battalion commander continued.
"The masked swordsman, Captain Ralph, and Commander Hank have fallen."
The soldiers shuddered in shock. Especially the officers of 3rd Company, who frowned deeply, overwhelmed by grief.
I, too, though less than them, was caught by surprise.
'They're marking Hank as killed in action...'
But the battalion commander didn't give anyone time to collect themselves. Raising his rapier with his only arm, the old man called out.
"Let us follow them, our comrades-in-arms."
"......."
The moment of silence for the fallen ended, and the battalion commander continued.
"As such, I will temporarily command 2nd Company myself, and 3rd Company will be led by Ian."
Platoon leaders of 3rd Company all glanced at me. Having a new superior overnight, their expressions were not at ease.
"Now for the good news."
All eyes once again fell squarely on the old man as he spoke, his voice deeper and steadier than before.
"Twenty Scarlok cavalry, and the enemy chieftain Jonar—dead."
"!!!!!!!!!"
Everyone, without exception, had their eyes wide open.
Whether their shock was infectious, or my body's nerves were simply on edge, I felt goosebumps all over.
Someone spoke up.
"So what Tifal saw was true?!"
Most soldiers hadn't witnessed it themselves, but the sentries watching the outside and battlefield must have.
They would've seen Schutmann and the commanders fight, and my own actions.
Still, such news was hard to believe for regular soldiers. Maybe that's why baby Ruth tried to fact-check me upon seeing me. As expected—
'Ugh. This is a bit much.'
Every single North soldier present fixed their eyes on me.
In those gazes was something deeper than mere respect, so much so I grew itchy just standing there.
The battalion commander suddenly intervened.
"Not yet."
"?"
"The only beasts we've slain are the Red Rooster's chieftain and his sons."
He then pointed the tip of his sword toward the garrison entrance—toward where the enemy remained.
"There are still beasts out there. The ones who killed our comrades and families fighting at our sides."
With every syllable, I could feel an unfathomable rage. A chill swept my whole body in an instant.
"We must make sure they never covet our land again."
With that, the battalion commander turned abruptly away, and Lantz and Legion went to brief their own subordinates.
I, too, walked proudly to the front of the 3rd Company—marching with the confidence Ralph had shown on the day he made me company commander.
At last, all preparations complete—
"All troops. Sortie."
At the old man's command, horns blared in unison.
Bwooooooo—
*
Waaaaaa—!
What followed was practically a massacre—a war in name only.
With both the chieftain and the designated successors all dead, the beastkin were literally nothing but a ragtag mob.
Accordingly, our soldiers' morale hit an all-time high. Consumed by vengeance, they rushed to the final battle, swinging their blades left and right.
Among them all, the busiest was undoubtedly me.
'Damn.'
Lantz and Legion weren't in top form; the battalion commander, with his OOPArts on cooldown, was basically 3rd-rank now.
Even before, we were short on company-level officers, and now we were in an even worse crunch.
So as the only 4th-rank still at full strength, I had to run around even more.
Still, there was a silver lining.
'Now that it's confirmed I killed chieftain Jonar, the beastkin officers are coming after me of their own accord.'
Whether driven by dreams of becoming chieftain or pure revenge, I'm not sure.
Either way, they came at me like aggroed mobs, making it easy for me to cut them down.
Chwaaaak! Seok!
Of course, fighting three fourth-ranks simultaneously was a bit rough—even so, Legion helped out just enough for me to survive.
'Phew. Can't let my guard down.'
No matter how strong you are as a 4th-rank, unmatched in direct combat, numbers still matter in this world.
So, after killing and killing and killing some more—
"Hah... Hah... Hah..."
Before I knew it, there were no beastkin left for me to kill.
The world was now red, fat with flesh and blood. In the midst of this hellscape, I looked up at the sky and murmured—
"I survived."
It was a message to the gods, and also to myself.
As I had done this time, no matter what adversity awaited me in the future—
"I'll survive."
I muttered it again, quietly. Not that even I could hear—because the shouts of the North soldiers were just that loud.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"