Chapter 13 : Chapter 13
Chapter 13: I’m a Natural Swordsmanship Prodigy!
Darkness was a paradise for undead creatures, but it posed no hindrance to Cyril at all. A Rogue was a dancer of the night by nature, and on top of that, he possessed a kind of night vision that surpassed even the Darkvision he had once had in the game.
The cold wind carried the pine forest’s mournful cries. He had already cast aside the bulky clothing that had caught fire. The wind struck directly against his thin-looking body, yet it only made each beat of the heart in his chest feel stronger, thudding again and again, driving him straight toward the gap in the camp’s defenses.
“Move!”
The two Greatshield Warriors had just withstood another charge from the Icehide Blue-Striped Bear. After such a long battle, they were no longer as fierce as they had been at the beginning, their bodies tilting under the strain even as they fought to maintain their balance. But the moment a gap appeared in the shield wall they formed together, a figure shot through it like lightning, charging directly toward the giant bear’s back as it reared upright.
“Hey, don’t—”
The Greatshield Warrior’s attempt to stop him had not even finished before he saw that sudden figure crash straight into the descending blow of the bear’s paw. He sucked in a breath. Having already taken several of the bear’s impacts himself, he knew better than anyone just how much force that blow carried. If the support spells from behind had not eased the pain in his body, he would probably have collapsed long ago.
Dust flew everywhere. He focused his eyes, but could not find the figure anywhere. The giant bear threw back its head and roared hideously, as if boasting that after fighting for so long, it had finally claimed its first head.
“Danya above...” he could not help sighing. The morale they had felt at the arrival of reinforcements vanished in an instant. They had held out for so long, and his greatest pride had been that despite the disparity in strength, their side still had not suffered a single casualty. Yet now that help had arrived, what it had brought instead was sacrifice.
He struggled to think of something encouraging to say, to keep up both his own spirits and those of his comrades, for the battle was not over yet. But at that moment, a loud thud sounded right beside him, and in shock, he discovered that his companion had actually thrown his beloved shield to the ground.
“What are you doing? We’ve held out this long—how can you give up just because one man died?!”
He could not help shouting at the man beside him, only to have his arm tugged in return. He looked where his companion was pointing.
In the next instant, the shield in his own hand slipped from his grasp and hit the ground.
“Danya above, what am I even looking at?!”
“Tos, Barty, reinforcements are here! One came in from our side! Support him!”
Only then did the swordsman from the other side arrive, speaking between gasps. But the moment he stopped, he saw that the two Greatshield Warriors who should have been guarding the front had both thrown down their shields. One of them turned to him, his expression stiff.
“Lancer... I think the one you meant was him?”
The figure who should have died beneath the bear’s paw stood behind the giant beast with sword in hand, where the four skeletons had been only moments earlier. Firelight flickered, and all they could really see was the silver gleam flashing along his blade, and the little hill of white bones piled at his feet.
Swordsman Lancer felt the corners of his eyes twitch uncontrollably. Saliva rolled in his throat before he finally swallowed with difficulty.
He admitted that he had been somewhat irritated by the conduct of this sudden ally. In a one-on-one fight, he could have killed skeletons too. He had chased after him with a stubborn desire not to be shown up, having fallen behind by no more than a minute in total. Lancer had fully intended to compete with the newcomer and see whose swordsmanship was truly superior—
Although the answer was now obvious, he had never imagined that in less than a minute, the other man would already have killed all four skeletons.
Danya above—
“Stop standing there. Kill the bear too.”
The youth with the sword—perhaps he was still only a boy—gave the order in a voice that had not yet fully matured. The two Greatshield Warriors and Lancer finally came back to themselves and moved to surround the Icehide Blue-Striped Bear, the last surviving member of the undead vanguard detachment.
This bear had only recently reached adulthood, and had not even mastered its racial Frost Domain yet. Once surrounded, it failed to cause any real trouble before Cyril’s sword carved a huge hole through its throat.
Only after the giant beast crashed to the ground did cheers erupt from the camp. The two Greatshield Warriors naturally gathered around Cyril and escorted him back inside. The soldier who had witnessed his strike firsthand could not help bragging to the others:
“Ha, you didn’t see this knight’s sword! Two flashes—just like that! He drew a cross, and all those skeletons fell over!”
Cyril sheathed his sword and merely nodded with strained calm to the soldiers thanking him. Yet as they praised him, he himself could not help feeling surprised.
Dodging the Icehide Blue-Striped Bear’s paw was not any harder than evading a Walking Corpse’s attack. So long as his body could keep up, it only took a simple burst and shift of speed to do it easily.
But Cyril had expected that facing four skeletons would cost him at least some effort. Yet the moment they came at him head-on, the hand gripping his sword seemed to move of its own accord. Two streaks of silver crossed into a dazzling X before him—
Silver Cross Slash.
Of course he recognized the sword art. It was an excellent technique for breaking defenses and following with a second strike. In skilled hands, ordinary guards were virtually meaningless before it. But just as powerful as it was, it also demanded extremely high stats and weapon skill.
He had believed that at the very least, he would need to train his weapon specialization to Advanced before he could use a sword technique at this level.
He had never imagined that with this mere Level 2 body template, he would be able to unleash Silver Cross Slash so cleanly.
Cyril could not help touching his nose. This truly was a pleasant surprise. But then it abruptly occurred to him that displaying such a glorious feat in full view of everyone, so far beyond what matched his stated identity, might be rather difficult to explain.
How exactly was he supposed to explain the fact that he had just used a sword technique on the level of Silver Cross Slash? He was only an Apprentice Knight Squire, still a whole rank below even a Knight Squire—
Surely he could not just tell them, I’m a natural swordsmanship prodigy?
There were troublesome people everywhere, and one example was now walking straight toward him: the two mages. One was a tall middle-aged man with a pointed beard, his brows tightly furrowed, his eyes fixed on Cyril. In a dry voice, he said:
“I am the leader of this team, Moum Morris, a four-ring mage of the Northwind Tower. This is my disciple, Mia Christian. Thank you for your generous assistance, sir. May the starlight shine upon you. Might I ask who you are?”
Cyril could not help frowning. He had been just about to properly tally his spoils. If it had only been a matter of exchanging pleasantries with a few soldiers, he could have chatted casually while looking over his panel. But speaking with a mage was another matter.
“I’m Aiver Vey,” he replied aloud, “just a knight passing through on a whim.”
He answered out loud, but his hands still moved on their own, tracing the symbol to summon the panel. The moment it appeared, Cyril’s eyes shot straight to the experience line. But when he saw the number, he nearly cried out, screaming inwardly:
“Where did my experience go?! I killed eleven skeletons and one bear—where’s all that experience?! Why did I get so little?!”