Chapter 111 : Chapter 111
Chapter 111. A monster-like fellow
‘Just why is he doing this?’
Perignon couldn't understand Maxim.
Of course, it wasn't that what Maxim said was wrong.
If they opened the supply route, they would have to face over 10,000 enemies.
And that they were at a disadvantage in a battle against time.
What he couldn't understand was a situation like the present.
Running blindly toward the enemy camp.
He could actually die.
And it wasn't just anyone.
‘He’s a prince, isn’t he?’
It was a story that seemed to exist only in novels.
Even in a state of war, the prince remained in the rear.
It was under the pretext of planning for the nation's future.
The case of an illegitimate son was similar.
It was because they considered the worst-case scenario.
But…….
“Protect His Highness!”
Rodrigo shouted and ran like a madman.
But it wasn't enough to catch up with Maxim, who stood at the forefront with Bethel.
“We can’t hit His Highness! Be careful with the arrows and….”
Saint-Sard swallowed the rest of his words.
Even to his own eyes, being told to shoot arrows while being mindful of Maxim was no different from being told to do nothing at all.
And there were also the words Maxim had left behind.
Ping!
‘How strange.’
As if he had eyes on the back of his head, Maxim exquisitely dodged the incoming arrows.
To the point where one could see them graze his ear, splitting the skin and forming a drop of blood.
Literally, by a hair's breadth.
“Bethel!”
At Maxim’s voice, a wooden wall shot up.
The arrows pouring down, obscuring the sky, were caught by the wooden wall.
‘Their teamwork is good.’
Perignon recalled what Bethel had said.
That he fought the Necromancer alongside Maxim.
That he fought a Devil Bear.
‘I thought it was a bluff, but it wasn't.’
Bethel smiled and powerfully drew out a green energy.
Wooden pillars jutted out like obstacles.
Maxim, who had been running forward using his sword as a shield, looked at Bethel.
“Not that! Block the path!”
Perignon’s brow furrowed.
Perhaps what Bethel had said…….
‘Was it a bluff after all?’
In any case, following Maxim’s will, Bethel poured all his strength into it.
He pierced the ground or created stone walls to prevent the wooden bridge from touching the land.
“Says who!”
Smiral did not just stand by and watch Bethel's power either.
He too was a being who had sworn an oath to Terion.
Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwak!
The bow of the ship turned sharply, changing its form.
The wooden bridge moved toward a place without obstacles.
The ship lurched violently, and a few soldiers who had been preparing to land on the deck fell into the river.
“Argh!”
“Major! Sa-save me!”
“I’m going to die! I’m going to die like this!”
“Help me! Somebody help!”
Voices begging for their lives emerged one after another, but Smiral didn't even glance their way.
He only thought of the remaining soldiers' landing and ceaselessly rotated his Mana Circle.
“What the hell is that bastard doing?”
Perignon was dumbfounded.
He believed that it was basic for a commander to take care of his soldiers.
But what Smiral showed was the image of using soldiers like tools.
Perignon clenched his fists.
Thud.
Despite Maxim and Bethel's efforts, the bridge reached the river's edge.
Although it wasn't land, it was a depth where the soldiers of Uresra could plant their two feet and stand.
“Land.”
With a roar, the soldiers of Uresra began to run across the bridge.
“Fire! Burn them all without exception!”
At Maxim’s shout, flaming arrows embroidered the sky.
The Uresra soldiers smiled brightly as they saw the flaming arrows heading toward them.
They had something to believe in.
“How annoying.”
Smiral's sword gleamed.
Papak!
A huge wooden shield, struck by the arrows, sizzled and burned.
The Uresra soldiers shouted things like ‘As expected!’, ‘The captain is here!’ and increased their speed.
“Son of a……”
Maxim gripped his sword and kicked off the ground.
At the same time, the Uresra soldiers came up onto the land.
“Don’t go easy on him just because he’s a kid!”
“Trample him!”
“Kill them all!”
The soldiers of Uresra screamed as if to forget their fear.
Maxim looked at them and straightened his grip on Dawn.
A blue light emerged from his Mana Heart, passed through the Talisman, and enveloped his entire body.
And it seeped into Dawn.
“The color is a bit bright today.”
Maxim, holding Dawn with both hands, looked at the charging enemies.
Dozens of them were in the lead alone.
“Bethel. Narrow the path.”
Bethel plunged his sword into the ground.
“Damn it!”
“Go inside! No! Kill that bastard over there!”
One of them pointed at Bethel.
About a dozen running soldiers shot their bows.
Arrows filled with killing intent aimed for Bethel's life.
“Says who!”
A purple line left by Dawn.
Dozens of arrows were torn and shattered, rolling on the ground.
“Get that little brat first…!”
The head of the one leading the soldiers flew off.
Subsequently, the arms, chest, and head of the one right behind him were also severed, spraying blood in all directions.
“Stop your yapping and come at me.”
The soldiers who saw their comrades die froze in place.
They looked at Maxim, at the purple sword he held, at the purple light the sword emitted, and gulped down dry saliva.
And one other person swallowed his saliva.
“Au-aura?”
Perignon doubted his own eyes.
Maxim swung the huge sword, and a purple energy flew like an arrow.
He recalled the words of the master who had taught him the sword long ago.
‘A true Sword Master can shoot sword energy.’
He had lamented that now that magic replaced everything, no knight possessed an aura, so it could no longer be seen.
But now, a boy in his teens was showing something of a legend.
“Is he really using a Mana Heart?”
He hadn't believed Maxim's words.
Because everyone had said that the Mana Heart had long since disappeared.
But the power shown by Maxim’s sword was…….
“I-It’s just one person!”
“Right! Just one kid!”
“Block him! Block him! No, break through! Just break through!”
The power that, while tinged with both purple and blue, cut down dozens of enemies without hesitation.
It could only be called an aura.
“He’s a monster. A real monster.”
Saint-Sard, who had been running to help Maxim, let out a gasp of admiration.
The Uresra soldiers raised their swords towards Maxim.
Because while the death of their comrades brought fear, it also brought anger.
They charged like a swarm of rats trying to bite Maxim, like beasts seized by madness.
Thwack!
Swish!
Slice!
Hot blood fell on the white snowfield.
Human warmth turned into steam.
Shouts, screams, and shrieks mingled chaotically, singing of life and death.
Maxim was the protagonist of the song.
Stabbing and cutting.
Tearing and ripping.
On his face, on his body, and on the sword he wielded.
Everything was bright red.
“No one shall pass me!”
A brilliant energy emanated from Maxim.
Even seeing the endlessly surging enemies, he showed no hesitation, no retreat.
He just cut them down.
“Help His Highness!”
At Saint-Sard’s shout, the remaining Poinus soldiers raised their weapons with a roar.
Two men blocking a multitude of enemies, the encouraged soldiers.
The Uresra soldiers, their spirits crushed by a small number of opponents.
And one knight watching it all.
“The smallest one is the biggest reef.”
Smiral walked steadily across the bridge.
He drew his sword and scraped it against the bridge.
The wood creaked, following Smiral’s sword.
“Since you were the loudest, I shall give you a despair to match.”
Smiral’s sword pointed at Maxim.
Then, he stabbed the ground.
An energy of green and dark brown melted the accumulated snow and cut through the pooled blood, heading towards Maxim.
Koo-kwang!
“Your Highness!”
Before Bethel could even warn of the danger, the ground where Maxim stood collapsed.
As if to fill the space, trees grew, completely covering the collapsed area.
It was all too sudden.
“Th-this is something I!”
Bethel ran to try and pull Maxim out.
He rotated his Mana Circle with all his might.
A light more intense than ever before.
He raised the gleaming sword, so bright that people around him felt a glare, high into the sky.
“I did not permit it.”
Smiral, who had approached at some point, blocked Bethel's sword.
Bethel looked at him with surprised eyes.
“You need not be ashamed. It is the way of the world for the weak to be devoured by the strong.”
Kaang!
The moment Smiral’s sword was about to cut Bethel's neck.
Saint-Sard’s dagger thwarted it.
A sudden impact, Smiral’s arm went up, leaving his chest wide open.
Saint-Sard did not miss the moment.
He infused the Gladius with the power of wind.
He stabbed the air to create a sharp spear.
“Captain!”
Perignon, hearing Saint-Sard’s shout, drew out his mana.
The power of water contained in the sword.
A sharp current of water rose along the blade that cut through the air.
The bubbles that bloomed became snowflakes, piercing the surroundings.
The water current became a new blade, cutting all around.
Thus, Saint-Sard’s sword and Perignon’s sword aimed for Smiral’s chest.
Paang!
Saint-Sard and Perignon looked at Smiral with surprised eyes.
‘It definitely reached.’
‘I cut him. I cut him perfectly, but…….’
The sensation transmitted to their fingertips was that of piercing and cutting something.
But Smiral wore a nonchalant expression as if he had received no shock at all.
“No need to be surprised.”
Smiral placed a hand on his chest.
The faces of Saint-Sard and Perignon contorted.
Smiral's chest, revealed through his torn clothes, was like the skin of a reptile.
Smiral slowly exhaled.
Then his chest returned to that of a human.
“That was a pretty decent attack. It made me use a power I didn’t want to show.”
Saint-Sard let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.
“The real monster was that one.”
“I know, right? I thought His Highness was the monster.”
Smiral furrowed his brow as much as he could, as if he didn't like being called a monster.
“It’s been a while since I heard that.”
“You don’t seem to like it?”
Perignon snorted.
“No one likes that word. Not in Uresra.”
Mana settled on Smiral’s sword.
Saint-Sard and Perignon raised their guards and composed their breathing.
“I will see whether that little brat is strong, or if you lot are strong.”
Smiral lowered his stance.
His sword dug into the ground.
Kugugugung.
As the ground shook, Saint-Sard, Perignon, and all the soldiers were greatly flustered.
“They say the dead become dust, don't they?”
With Smiral's words, wooden spears shot up from the ground.
Screams echoed from all directions.
Cries for help also rang out incessantly.
There was no distinction between friend or foe.
“That monstrous bastard!”
Perignon, who had cut down the wooden spears with his water sword, gnashed his teeth.
He raised his sword towards Smiral.
He kicked off the ground again and again, stepping on snowflakes as he rose into the air.
His form was like that of one running across the sky.
“A commander! To his soldiers! Like that!”
A raging torrent followed Perignon’s sword.
The fierce wave falling from the sky crashed down on Smiral.
Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwak!
The sharp trees that had sprouted, leaving no place to step, were swept away by Perignon’s sword.
“Captain……”
Saint-Sard, who had avoided Smiral's attack using the wind, was watching Perignon’s full power.
The surviving soldiers on both sides also just watched blankly.
A picture of a deep blue dragon flying in and swallowing its small prey.
Everyone thought it.
Smiral’s life would end at Perignon’s sword.
“A rather fine sword, I must say.”
With Smiral's voice, the vortex of water disappeared.
And the figure of Perignon, holding his sword with both hands, was revealed.
“Captain?”
Saint-Sard tried to approach Perignon.
But he couldn't do as he intended due to the ensuing situation.
Plop.
Beyond the collapsing Perignon, Smiral, in the form of an alligator, was seen.
Smiral’s bright yellow eyes turned towards Perignon.
“Has it been 15 years? To make me take this form.”
Green blood.
A form mixed between human and alligator.
Seeing this, Saint-Sard felt a chill.
Tududuk.
Smiral, shaking off his hard skin, looked at Saint-Sard.
And he moved towards Saint-Sard, one step, one step at a time.
“I truly hate this form. So I’ve never let a single one who has seen it live. Because I hate being remembered.”
Smiral pulled out the sword that was stuck in his arm.
Blood of a messy mix of green, red, and black dripped down.
“You too, display all the skills you have. If I have to transform even once, you'll feel less wronged when you die. Isn't that right?”
Saint-Sard gulped down dry saliva.
He tightened his grip on the Gladius.
But strength did not enter his hand as he intended.
“What is this? Are you trembling now?”
Smiral looked at Saint-Sard with a pathetic expression.
Saint-Sard couldn't say a word.
The fallen Perignon, Maxim whose life or death was unconfirmed, Bethel sprawled over him, and the dozens of soldiers who had lost their lives.
Only the image of defeat entered his eyes.
“You've lost the will to fight. Then I shall end this quickly.”
Smiral, standing before Saint-Sard, raised his sword high.
The shadow of death cast itself over Saint-Sard’s face.
‘This is the end.’
Saint-Sard closed his eyes.
Kwang!
The shadow stopped.
Startled by the explosion, Saint-Sard opened his eyes.
“Ow! Shit, my head.”