Chapter 885 - Dark Green Wall
Ferdinand of the Crimson Cloak Knights recalled the fight he had seen a while ago.
'Was it a fight where victory was certain? Was winning guaranteed?'
The conclusion he reached after pondering several times was no.
They didn't move assuming that.
Nor did they step forward after calculating.
'They were like wild horses running amok.'
He wasn't referring to a specific person.
The entirety of the Madmen Knights seemed that way.
'Using their bodies as relics to hold the position.'
Riding flying horses and running wild on top of griffons.
It wasn't simply catching a few griffons.
They literally fought while jumping over griffons.
It was at a level that reminded him of the Master he served. He didn't burst into exclamation seeing it, but there was no way not to be surprised either.
It was that impressive.
Semi-knight Ferdinand, a former commander of a unit under the knightly order, had awakened an 'intuition' to gauge winning and losing battles from some point.
'This one, we lose.'
He gauges victory and defeat even before fighting.
It was an awakening, but it could also be called an old habit.
To save even one more subordinate soldier, one must be adept at calculation.
That is the quality of an excellent commander he thinks of.
This habit continued even after becoming a semi-knight.
It became his specialty altogether.
The good thing about this aspect is that he doesn't let his guard down in either winning or losing battles.
Researching and exploring how to win realistically rather than free battles leading with spirit was his training, discipline, and fight.
That is why he avoids losing battles.
If he had to fight for his Master or comrades, he would fight even knowing he would lose, but could he do it while enjoying it?
Like those people called madmen?
'I can't.'
Ferdinand knows himself well.
He faced his limits directly.
'Then should I stop here?'
His contemplation is deep.
The rising sun pierces his eyes.
The South visible in the distance entered his view.
Ferdinand was walking around the vicinity, having volunteered for a scouting mission.
Stopping mid-walk, he raised his head.
A pitch-black dot was visible ahead.
It was the moment yesterday's sun set and a new morning was welcomed.
A semi-knight's eyesight is vastly superior to an ordinary person's, and the Crimson Cloak Knights were traditionally familiar with methods to momentarily enhance sight and hearing.
It was one of the order's training methods.
Ferdinand's pupils dilated, changing to be suitable for viewing distant places.
As soon as he saw it, he turned his body as is.
If he saw them from here, they must have seen him from there too.
Excluding stealth, he ran to the main camp.
Soil and stones popped peong-peong where he ran.
***
'Venom.'
Jaxen heard that name for the first time, but he felt he knew that fellow's previous nickname.
'Miasma.'
A word interchangeable with polluted air or poisonous aura.
Born a mixed-blood elf, he became a dwarf for life due to mistakenly eating a poisonous herb as soon as he was born.
'Isn't he well over a hundred years old?'
He heard he had fought once with his teacher.
"That dwarf bastard was still flying around energetically. Did I lose? Does your master, teacher, and adoptive father look that easy?"
Jaxen had never called him father, so it was a day he didn't know why the word adoptive father came out of his teacher's mouth.
"Of course I won."
The Master said laughing, with one eye turned blue.
It wasn't swollen from being hit, but poison seeped in from being grazed by a blade.
If things had gone wrong, he could've went blind in one eye.
In fact, his teacher's eyesight in one eye deteriorated significantly afterward.
"You should reduce that poisonous aura when bragging."
"It will reduce on its own eventually. Anyway, that dwarf bastard will be going around doing only bad things somewhere. I must kill him next time I see him."
Why didn't you fulfill that resolution?
Master.
Jaxen cursed inwardly and lowered his stance, putting his center of gravity on his left foot.
After lowering his stance like that, he blocked above his head and in front of his left thigh with two daggers.
It wasn't simple defense.
He deflects by imbuing the principles of Soft Sword Style throughout his body.
Otherwise, a part of his flesh would be torn off in no time.
Tadang!
The ends of the flail swung by the guy named Pustis moved as if the three lumps of iron were each alive.
It felt exactly like blocking three blades simultaneously.
Naturally, it's an inscribed weapon handled by a knight.
Doing this much was normal.
Subsequently, the blade flying aiming for the right side of his head showed movement similar to a whip.
A technique adding speed to the blade by swinging his arm flexibly, completing a slash as fast as the barbarian's axe.
It was applying the principle of a whip to a blade.
An original attack.
In between, the dwarf named Miasma or Venom, intervenes.
"Not only does he handle poison well, he's a natural-born assassin. That ugly dwarf."
His teacher had also said that.
The nickname Miasma was also the name of a legendary assassin once widely spread across the continent.
The dwarf threw a Silence Knife.
Even in Geogr's Daggers, excluding Jaxen himself, only two people handled this knife.
The dwarf handled the throwing knife, which was just a blade, quite well.
What's more, he threw it pinpointing angles and timings difficult to react to even if known.
Jaxen spun dynamically, bent his waist, extended his bent knee, and then stopped abruptly.
The Silence Knife flew past the place he would have dodged to.
Movement as if he had foreseen it.
As soon as he stopped, the flail flew again, and the whip-like sword suddenly stabbed in like a harpoon.
The arm stopped bending and changed into a form stabbing puk.
At the same time, Jaxen perceived four darts aiming for his back.
There was no time to breathe.
Still, he repeated blocking and dodging.
"Why don't you die?"
A question from the fellow who was a mixed-blood elf and convergently evolved into a dwarf.
How does he endure despite being poisoned and unilaterally attacked by three people?
His voice was full of absurdity and doubt, but even this was a trick.
His voice was heard from the left, but the darts flew from the right. This is the situation. A moment where death seemed right under his nose, yet a smile appeared on Jaxen's face intermittently.
'Doable.'
The time spent hanging out with the barbarian, the lazy directionally challenged guy, the bear beastkin, and the Captain shone now.
Even if they fought in a fit of rage, they swung axes, extended fists, and thrust swords half-seriously.
Jaxen saw an opening and threw one Silence Knife.
He extends his hand towards the sky without showing the act of turning his body to throw.
The knife flying silently aimed for Pustis's glabella.
The trajectory draws a curve from top to bottom.
Sword-throwing style isn't simply a technique of throwing daggers in a straight line.
Wrist movement, the position holding the blade—everything organically influences it, making the blade fly in an impossible trajectory.
'Swift's Swim.'
Swift Gliding, a technique where the blade flies and sticks as if sliding on air.
Naturally, he imbued Will.
Strength sufficient to pierce a knight's iron armor and kill.
Here, Killing Intent-less, erasing killing intent.
To erase killing intent, a knack of focusing on the technique rather than the opponent is needed.
It's fine to say focusing on the perfection of the skill rather than killing.
It's familiar to Jaxen.
The knife he threw escaped even Venom's vision.
Looking only at the capability as an assassin, Jaxen was superior.
Although poisoned by the synthetic poison Venom boasted of, Jaxen's body, which had built resistance to poison through his teacher and Master's special training, endured well.
Dizziness and nausea could just be endured with self-control.
The technique that couldn't be used on allies was just about to stick into Pustis's forehead.
The Silence Knife Jaxen uses was a specially made blade only about the size of the index and middle fingers combined. Meaning, although small, it is sufficient to kill a person if embedded in the head and its hardness is excellent.
As soon as Jaxen threw the dagger, he jumped back dodging the flail and blade.
He greatly widens the distance and somersaults.
At the evasive maneuver deviating from expectation, Venom also couldn't rush in, and it was the moment he hesitated whether to throw the dagger in his hand.
Just before the blade with erased killing intent and sound reached the target, a shield intervened.
Tang-!
Jaxen's decisive blow was blocked.
A shield attached to a forearm blocked the dagger.
The one blocking adjusted the angle and deflected the dagger.
He couldn't guess the entire process, but looking at the result, he seemed to know part of the process.
The guy who intervened now probably watched the fight from a distance and then intervened.
Swift's Swim is hard to notice if seen from up close.
Even Venom, the genius of poison and stealth called a legendary assassin, missed it.
A knight waiting in reserve intervened and ruined the board.
Of course, from the Mud Knights' perspective, it was the right thing to happen.
"Amazing."
The fellow who entered exclaimed.
He wore oval shields on both hands.
Other weapons weren't visible.
That was his inscribed weapon.
"The Commander says to hurry. The swamp widened and over a hundred soldiers sank and died. If left alone, the unit will be annihilated."
The newly intruded person said.
With this, there are four with knight-level martial power.
Jaxen alone held the feet of four.
The funny thing was that Jaxen, who seemed to be pushed back until just a moment ago, almost won against three.
If the blade had stuck in Pustis's head and become a pretty decoration, it would have really happened.
"I told you. That's a monster bastard."
Pustis wasn't surprised seeing what the opponent did
From the beginning, he was a guy burdensome to handle alone.
"You threw it while avoiding my eyes?"
Venom said, his pride hurt.
He is also deeply knowledgeable in assassination techniques.
With just one move Jaxen showed a moment ago, he realized the opponent's skill was superior to his.
That scratched his insides endlessly.
That wasn't the only thing scratching his insides.
Moving violently, Jaxen's mask had long been stripped off.
His face was revealed.
That face that received the gazes of numerous ladies just by passing by in Border Guard.
Venom's face distorted.
He had severe inferiority complex about his appearance since his youth.
Ever since his appearance became hideous from poison.
"I will peel off your face skin."
What's more, an opponent with better skill than himself?
Isn't he just an unlucky opponent, just like the Geogr's Dagger Master was before?
Jaxen looked ahead regardless of what the guy named Venom said.
The fourth guy who appeared seemed to specialize in close combat.
His weapons indicated so.
"I will hold him. Strike his back in the meantime. Venom, don't release poison into the air. Use a blade instead."
"I was gonna do it without you telling me."
The person who appeared naturally guided the atmosphere of the group.
Jaxen still had a smile on his face.
'This too.'
It is fun.
The Captain didn't discuss enjoyment for nothing.
Is it because it's protecting, not killing people?
Or is it because of his changed mindset?
Whatever the reason, it was fun.
That joy and pleasure.
Even if this might be the end, even if losing seems natural, it will be an enjoyable death.
All of that combined opened Jaxen's mouth.
"Are four all?"
"No, five."
The answer came from behind the newly appeared guy.
A guy with long hair covering his eyes.
He had a large build with solid-looking muscles overall.
Not as big as a giant, but enough to turn heads anywhere.
Him standing next to the bear beastkin would make quite an interesting picture.
'It would have been more fun if even one of those crazy things were here.'
He doesn't even hope for the Captain.
If just one of the barbarian, directionally-challenged guy, or bear beastkin were here, the direction of the fight would have changed.
He cannot hope for assistance.
Behind is Esther.
She showed a miracle changing the terrain of the area.
Alone, she dropped three thousand soldiers into a swamp and tied their feet.
If a knight is called a match for a thousand, she is currently facing three thousand soldiers.
While doing such a thing, he can't ask her to come here and take on a couple of knights.
Above all, she is a witch.
Even if she is skilled in this kind of fight, the specialties she possesses are different for facing multiple knights.
'Though that applies to me too.'
Still, what can he do?
This is all he has.
He spins two daggers in his grasp.
His hands are still fine and the dagger blades undamaged.
The will to fight is fuller than ever.
'I protect.'
Jaxen's eyes did not waver.
"Baric of the Mud Knights."
The opponent said.
Although it didn't match, he had a face with big eyes that looked gentle.
He held only one knife in his right hand.
Instead, he wore armor with spikes all over.
Forearms, shins, even the chest were full of sharp protrusions.
'This side is also a close combat specialist.'
Both who appeared looked like they enjoyed biting and grappling fights.
It wasn't good for Jaxen.
In a situation like the present, it's harder to face guys who charge with determination than guys who widen the distance, gauge, and take time to calculate.
"The trick the wizard played is extraordinary. On the way here, hands came out of the swamp and grabbed ankles."
If left alone, the entire unit would fall into trouble.
The Mud Knight Commander's choice was clear.
Break through what blocks the front and remove the cause of all this.
It's a conclusion reached because he has rich experience dealing with wizards many times.
Also, that guy standing in front of his eyes now was equally dangerous.
So all five deal with that fellow here.
In the meantime, send all semi-knights to check the wizard.
Since the Mud Knights originally choose the method most advantageous for survival, it was the most appropriate and rational choice.
If five knights move together, at least no one will die here.
This is the basis of Baric's judgment.
"Hey, just retreat quietly. You don't necessarily have to die here, do you?"
Pustis said.
He genuinely felt the opponent was a waste.
Isn't it enough to promise the next time rather than dying here?
An expert of that caliber is rare.
Jaxen answered with action.
He crossed the daggers in both hands obliquely in front of his chest and took a stance.
His legs were spread appropriately and tension was released from his body.
If the body stiffens with tension, one dies instantly.
Jaxen knows that.
"Remove him."
The Commander, Baric, said.
The order is absolute.
Everyone moved.
Blades, fists, daggers, flails fly in.
Only one out of dozens of choices is the path to live.
Jaxen repeatedly broke through nonsensical probabilities.
Counting attack and defense as numbers, he surpassed eight times.
Miracle?
Skill?
Someone would call it a miracle.
In terms of time, only the time to exhale five times had passed.
Including Pustis, even Baric admired.
If he loses, he dies.
That is an unchanging truth.
And the opponent's two legs are fine.
He could run away.
In other words, even though there is a way to live, he doesn't move.
If there is work to be done and something to protect, he just protects.
Is that what a knight looks like?
Is that what a knight is supposed to be?
"Jaxen of The Madmen Knights, I will remember."
Pustis said, finally catching the opponent's back.
Jaxen dragged his left arm, which wouldn't listen, with will.
Sacrificing one arm, he made a hole in the thigh of the guy who used two swords like whips, but eventually, five were too much to block alone.
Death approaches.
A death met knowingly, and a death full of joy.
His lover comes to mind, and he feels like leaving words that it was quite fun from the madmen days until now.
The Captain will be angry, very much.
Would the barbarian guy just laugh?
That guy would carve them all up with a smiling face.
The lazybones and bear beastkin would be similar.
It's an interval less than a blink of an eye.
The moment where he would have had to die and swim across the black river if just a little later.
Kwa-a-ang!
Lightning struck.
The lightning that fell from the dry sky dug up the ground and made piles of dirt soar.
Then, with a Kwa-a-a-a sound from above his head, something flew in.
Peong!
Noises exploded consecutively, and a dark green wall appeared before Jaxen's eyes.
Parararak.
A wall created by a rippling cloak.
In the opened gap, the voice of the fellow who grabbed Jaxen's collar and pulled him out just as he was about to enter the black river is heard.
"You didn't drain all your strength, did you?"
Jaxen spat out the poison held in his mouth.
It was the result of slowly gathering the poison that seeped into his body after being hit by the dwarf bastard first.
He didn't know what would happen, but since he hadn't actually given up, he gathered the poisonous aura spread in his body.
In order to spit it out, he needed a moment to rest.
That's why he can spit out the poison now that an opening appeared.
"Still have a long way to go."
Jaxen, having spat out the poison, answered.
***
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