Chapter 887 - Four Against Two
While Venom was exploding with irritation and anger, Baric was inwardly surprised that he hadn't been able to inflict even a single scratch on the opponent.
Skill that makes no sense.
In reality, it doesn't even make sense to understand.
What on earth must one be born with and how must one train to be able to do such things?
Amidst the bewilderment, curiosity arises.
The opponent showed amazing talent.
However, that wouldn't change anything.
Understanding is not necessary to destroy something.
Can't one destroy a castle wall with force even without knowing its structure?
Deudeudeudeuk.
Fangs grow around Baric's mouth.
Hair like wire sprouted sparsely from his face.
Drops of blood formed between the hairs piercing through the skin.
Kwadeudeuk.
His whole body's bones shook and changed his skeleton, and the armor draped over his body settled into place.
It was armor worn considering transformation in the first place.
Baric was a bear beastkin.
A beastkin abandoned for inheriting cursed blood and form.
Should one say he was in a similar situation to Dunbakel?
Of course, such inside stories are unknown to anyone.
Also, even Baric himself had forgotten such a past.
'I am the Commander of the Mud Knights.'
He often hears that he is an opponent no one wants to fight.
He didn't forget his identity.
Forgetting the past, he focused on the present.
This matter is the same.
Fighting for the Great Emperor.
He places his hand on his will and wishes, and goes forward.
Advancing like that, he will receive his own world and his own land.
Keureureuk.
Manes like spines sprouted all over his body, matching the armor.
He still held the knife in his hand, but now the knife in his hand was merely auxiliary equipment.
Even that knife was soon covered by the fur on his hand and became invisible.
Apart from claws on hands and feet, the spines covering his whole body replaced his inscribed weapon.
Their hardness was the same as the knife in his hand.
In short, he was a strange person who used his whole body as an inscribed weapon.
"Keuheoeong!"
The roar of the bear beastkin rang through the atmosphere.
Just hearing it makes goosebumps rise and fine hairs stand on end.
Of course, it was a story not applicable to Enkrid.
He had overcome even Beelrog's pressure.
"A real bear beastkin."
He was calm.
He must tell Audin this story by all means.
To do so, he would have to survive.
"It's swordsmanship focused on defense. Just pushing him is enough."
Pustis said.
His insight was extraordinary.
He quickly read the characteristics of the opponent's swordsmanship.
Longarm retreated a step because his mobility dropped due to the hole in his thigh.
Blood flowed in drops from the punctured leg.
It was because he moved excessively just a moment ago.
'Using feet as little as possible.'
If an opening is visible, stab the sword.
A secret technique of twisting trained arm muscles to strike remained.
He uses both arms like whips.
He possessed a technique sufficient to add acceleration even without using his feet.
Barod puts his face between two shields. Pulling his chin and retracting his neck.
It was the preparatory posture for a technique called Turtle Charge.
A skill that deflects most blades.
Barod prefers tactics unifying offense and defense.
His specialty was blocking repeatedly, pushing, and crushing the opponent.
The current posture is the culmination of his specialty.
Enkrid held Dawn in his right hand and let it hang down.
Someone who didn't know would call it a truly lax posture.
'A posture ready to strike out anytime.'
Baric's reason fades when he transforms.
Instinct raises its head and asserts itself.
Its source is destruction and slaughter.
Hot steam flowed from his mouth.
The hot breath goes up and saliva drops to the ground.
Pustis watched the situation with an expressionless face.
Seeing with eyes, hearing with ears, and thinking repeatedly with his head.
'We are four.'
Losing makes no sense.
The guy named Jaxen from The Madmen Knights was great too, but he wasn't pushed back even when facing three.
If time passed, the outcome would be unknown.
No, winning was on this side.
Even if the Commander and Barod hadn't joined, it would have been so.
'Even if Barod hadn't blocked.'
Wouldn't he have somehow dodged the dagger aiming for his head?
If he reacted the moment it touched, his head wouldn't have been pierced.
Since he didn't wear a helmet, didn't he always wrap excessive Will above his neck and pay more attention?
If the Iron Skin, hardening the skin by condensing Will, held out just a little, he would have bought more time.
Then he might have lost an eye, but not died.
The situation is clear.
Allies are in an advantageous position and enemies are not.
But why is he so anxious?
Pustis's gaze turned left and right.
One of those anxieties was just becoming reality.
His insight sends a warning.
His gaze stops on one side naturally.
Where his gaze stopped, the guy named Jaxen.
The guy who was dying opens his mouth.
"Once."
He speaks and throws a dagger.
As if agreeing to match that timing, the Commander attacks and he himself swung the flail.
The one leading the attack is the Commander, Baric.
Baric stomped his foot.
Kwang!
A roar rings.
The ground shook as if an earthquake occurred at his stomp.
Vibration sufficient to disturb balance.
Yet the opponent was calm.
He swung a sword containing a dim blue light and struck the Commander's claws.
Just before the Commander charged, the opponent rushed in first.
Kwang!
Roar and shockwave spread.
The opponent passed Baric as is and turned around.
In the meantime, Baric raised his knee to strike up and slashed diagonally with his elbow.
The bastard spun his sword around to hold it in reverse grip, blocked the knee with the sword tip, and blocked the elbow with the sword's guard.
Amazing talent.
Pbeok, teong, loud noises went back and forth between the two, and the Commander's spine leather covering the knee deflected the blade with a kang-.
The opponent used even that force to deflect the elbow slash with his guard.
Amazing level of Soft Sword Style.
Also, although not close enough to touch breath, it was a distance more comfortable to use elbows and knees than fists.
Unless one mastered close combat, one couldn't do such things.
Longarm couldn't intervene due to his thigh injury, and Barod, who tried to catch the enemy's back matching the Commander's movement, retreated again because the positions of the Commander and the target suddenly switched.
Only Pustis himself struck down with the flail with all his might.
Three iron lumps spread without colliding.
He intended to block the path the bastard took and smash him.
With the simple intention of blocking, he planned to snatch the sword with three iron maces and strike down.
The opponent showed behavior deviating from his intention.
He drew a second sword and stabbed.
If he continues the attack, a hole would be made in Pustis' neck.
Pustis eventually couldn't continue the strike and retreated.
Chwareureuk! Teong! Teong!
The sound of blades meeting three times passes.
"Kkeok."
And with exactly one exchange finished, Venom died.
Meaning, as his insight warned earlier.
It was the work of the guy who radiated ominousness.
Jaxen slit the throat of the unfortunate mixed-blood elf who had polished assassination arts for over a hundred years.
The dwarf elf with a second mouth carved on his neck falls to the floor, dragging blood.
Words coming from the mouth spitting bloody bubbles with kkeureuk- kkeoreuk- sounds are hard to understand.
Hands flailing in the air while fallen on the floor.
Unless a heavenly god descends, there is no way to survive that wound.
If by chance he wants to live, he would have to live as a slave to a wizard who mastered necromancy.
Whether misfortune or fortune, there was neither a heavenly god nor a wizard who mastered necromancy here.
Blood gushed kkulleong-kkulleong from Venom's neck, wetting the floor.
Victory and defeat were clear, and the result was evident.
The reason for such a result was simple.
Because the difference in skill between those two was evident.
Jaxen had made up his mind to kill Venom first from the beginning.
He didn't speak to him and draw his attention for nothing.
If the dagger thrown at Pustis's head had pierced his head, Venom would have aimed for him in that gap.
He had kept even that in mind.
Jaxen used a tactic of giving flesh to take bone.
That was the result that would have come out if there were no variables when the three attacked earlier.
You know only by trying anything.
A path not taken remains unknown forever.
So, worry not for the yesterday that passed, but do best for today and the coming tomorrow.
Jaxen did just so.
'What I learned from the Captain.'
It's fine to say he did as he learned.
Leaving four knights to his Captain, he killed the dwarf elf who should have died long ago.
His left arm was wrapped tightly with something like a bandage before anyone knew.
It's a bandage mixed with a hemostatic agent made with great care by Anne—a blood coagulant and pain-reducing medicine.
It means he even had the composure to wrap that while dealing with Venom.
"Let's start now."
Madman Jaxen says, looking at Pustis.
A dizzying sensation covered Pustis.
Distant.
Feeling like standing on the edge of a cliff looking down.
A reverberation caused by failing to gauge the opponent with insight.
"Pu-s-ti-s!"
Baric, the Commander's shout awakened his mind.
"There are two. Killing them is enough."
Even though his reason was blurred by instinct, the Commander spoke.
No, shouted.
There is no wavering in the will imbued in his shout.
Only one person, Venom died.
That was what the Commander wanted to say.
"Yes, I know."
Pustis, seeing through that, answered.
He quickly finds composure.
He isn't a member of the knightly order for nothing.
"Longarm, don't relax your caution. That side is skilled in assassination arts."
He speaks consecutively.
A duet of calmness and composure.
Does he have the talent to deceive a knight's senses?
Then what will he do against an opponent who widens their vision and endures with determination?
If prepared, it's sufficient to buy time to react.
No matter how skilled in assassination arts, it will be so.
Isn't he an existence called a disaster for a reason?
"If we just kill that swordsman, the situation is going to be the same as earlier."
Barod said.
He was right.
Pustis steadied his breathing.
Anyway, the match is in an instant.
When that ends, only death and life are divided.
So fight if you don't want to die, and struggle if you don't want to die.
Didn't he survive until now knowing that logic?
Jaxen slowly retreated three steps and steadied his breathing.
The sound of thin, long exhales is not heard by anyone's ears.
Steadying his breath like that, he lifted his foot and started walking.
His figure blurred like a mirage in the empty air and disappears.
'What kind of trick is that?'
Longarm said inwardly seeing that.
He focused without blinking once.
No matter how excellent an assassin, one cannot secretly kill a knight who is determined and prepared.
He repeats the words he realized earlier once more.
Then Longarm awakened his senses.
'He will aim for me.'
Will glimmered in his eyes.
Will becomes strength and shines.
'I survive today too.'
The Mud Knights fight better in crisis situations.
Aren't they those who survived using survival instinct as a weapon originally?
Baric's reason blurred when transformed.
Slaughter instinct and destruction instinct, begging to break something dominates him.
'Limit of a cursed beastkin.'
It would be a lie if such a thought didn't occur.
Yet he survived, broke limits, and reached the present.
And now Baric surpassed the limit once more.
'Vision is clear.'
Usually, the surroundings look dark red when transformed, but not today.
No, to be precise, it was like that at first, but his mind returned once he mingled with that swordsman.
The heightened spirit awakened his reason.
Crisis makes him advance to a new stage.
'If I act clumsily, I die.'
He doesn't want to die.
He will overcome today too.
His body felt lighter than ever and his limbs full of strength.
The heightened spirit influenced even his body.
"Madmen Knights, right?"
Baric asked.
The opponent had just changed his posture from letting the sword hang down to lifting it next to his face.
Blue eyes amidst black hair were impressive.
That color comes into his eyes vividly.
The opponent opens his mouth, nodding his chin slightly, almost invisibly.
It looked like preparation to respond if he attacked mid-speech.
Truly a thorough bastard.
"Enkrid of The Madmen Knights."
"I will remember that name."
Of course, Baric approached with the same attitude.
Even while opening his mouth and speaking, his breathing and posture remain undisturbed.
Prepared enough to react if the opponent attacks.
The conversation is short.
Since they aren't close enough to talk more.
***
Barod, the master of shield arts, was conscious of his surroundings and wrapped Will around his whole body.
A technique created seeing his Commander's transformation.
Based on the shield, he wraps a shell harder than iron armor around his whole body.
'Armor of Silent Gold.'
Will responds to his shield and whole body.
For this, he even researched parts of giant techniques.
He became a tank not pierced by most sword strikes.
A technique completed while fighting monsters comparable to actual knights.
'Ogre.'
A monster bigger than a giant.
How was its strength?
A giant tree was snapped and uprooted by a roughly swung hand.
A monster that used the uprooted giant tree as a club and swung it.
His armor was a technique not broken even by such a monster's strength.
***
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