Encrid immediately turned his body toward the black warrior.
The Giant group twisted their bodies, claiming to awaken.
'It might be okay.'
There was Rem, and also Dunbachel, and above all, female Rem fought well.
So, it starts here. His intuition told him that.
"He's coming!"
One of the cannibals shouted upon seeing Encrid. His voice was filled with fear.
Of course, why wouldn't it be, when the leader who had led them was now lying with his neck severed from his head?
Encrid caught sight of the cannibal's black teeth but left him alone.
The battle situation, the state of things, everything seeped into his mind, and he clearly felt what was most important.
He prioritized within the realm of his senses. It was the battlefield intuition he had honed while fighting Aspen.
Beyond strategies and tactics, he instinctively knew what needed to be done.
As the charging Encrid approached, the fear in the cannibal group's eyes grew. Some had trembling hands and their pupils shook.
How could they survive against such a monster?
In fact, they didn't need to worry.
Once they were dead, such concerns would be a luxury.
There were a few scratches on the heart armor of Luagarne, but no major wounds.
Instead, a long piece of metal was embedded in her stomach. It was a broken spear thrown by a cannibal, leaving just a handspan of the spear shaft remaining.
On the other hand, the black warrior had lost one of his arms. It was charred and blunt, probably the result of the flaming whip's power.
The fight was evenly matched, but behind the black warrior was a group of cannibals devoted to the cult, while behind Luagarne were the Westerners.
Was it dangerous?
It had been.
But not anymore.
A faint shadow appeared behind the black warrior.
Naturally, it was Encrid. Encrid swung his sword in sync with his movement.
The silver blade severed the Dead Warrior's neck.
Blood sprayed.
Though soot scattered, the neck immediately reattached itself.
Unless it was something magical, this kind of body couldn't be permanently damaged.
It didn't matter. Aker was a magic sword.
It could wound even the black warrior. But it wasn't a great enough magic sword to kill him in one strike.
Otherwise, Encrid had recently been feeling that the sword's strength was waning somehow.
But it didn't matter.
It was still useful.
With one slash, the soot around the black warrior's body thinned, but he didn't die.
'He didn't die.
He cut off his neck, but it doesn't matter?
So, what should he do?
Since the soot seems to thin, should he keep slashing?'
His thoughts were brief, and his actions quick.
Encrid swung Aker like a branch. The high-speed blade repeatedly cut through the black warrior's body.
The black warrior attempted to retaliate by thrusting his spear, but it was useless.
Encrid shifted his position, causing the spear to pierce empty air, and slashed three more times.
After a total of nineteen cuts, the soot-made Death Warrior began to disperse.
Originally, he would have needed some magical tool or ritual to deal with this kind of foe.
That's why Geom Nares was about to summon his wolf again, even if it strained him.
But there was no need for that anymore.
Geom Nares watched the high-speed slashes scatter the summoned warrior and reconsidered.
Should he really spar with him?
The Death Warrior dissolved into the air like the smoke of Hira's cigarette. The black smoke disappeared, scattered among the sunlight.
It was evident.
The foe that had put Luagarne in such peril was vanquished without even mounting a proper resistance. The disparity in power was clear.
"Run away!"
"Ghost of Sand!"
The cannibal group scattered in all directions upon witnessing this. They resorted to both sorcery and physical means to flee.
Luagarne shouted as she began to chase them.
"Not one shall escape!"
Encrid didn't bother to chase them.
The cannibals tried pulling out strange talismans and weapons as they fled, but they didn't seem like much of a match for Luagarne.
One cannibal threw a talisman that caused sand to rise up and form into a human shape, but when Luagarne's flaming whip wrapped around it, it burned up and crumbled away.
Luagarne wasn't the only one who gave chase.
Over five Western warriors, seeing the fleeing enemies, launched obsidian-tipped spears or slung rocks to intercept them.
Geom Nares even threw a hand axe.
Whoosh!
The flying hand axe struck the back of a fleeing cannibal.
Thud.
As soon as the cannibal fell forward, Frog's foot stomped on its head.
Crunch.
The skull shattered, and the eyeballs popped out, rolling on the ground.
Death.
Luagarne continued chasing down the other enemies.
Though the talismans caused some trouble, from the second instance of the sand ghost onwards, Geom Nares blocked them.
He had a knack for preventing the spells from activating, though Encrid couldn't know exactly how he did it.
It just felt right.
The threat was gone.
The cannibals, who hadn't been much of a challenge even when they fought back, were now busy fleeing, so they didn't feel like a threat anymore.
"Enki, not here."
Geom Nares called out to Encrid.
Encrid nodded and turned back.
The battlefield wouldn't be truly over until the last act of the Apostle was dealt with.
"You want to die again? Fine, die."
Just in time, they heard Rem shouting.
It didn't matter if the enemies revived again or if there were over a dozen Giants of formidable power.
Encrid watched as Rem went berserk.
With his left axe, he struck down the Giant's club, and with his right axe, he severed its wrist.
The sheer force of the blow sent the Giant's hand flying into the air.
After the wrist, it was the neck. The axe blade sliced through the Giant's throat, just under its jaw.
A new mouth opened in the Giant's neck with a wet sound, and blood gushed out.
Rem's armguards were soaked as they became drenched in blood. Blood splattered everywhere, and Ayul was at his side.
"Kill them all!"
She swung her axe as she shouted.
Encrid could roughly guess what they were doing.
It was the technique the twins had shown.
A blue aura surrounded Ayul, and thanks to that, her axe swings were faster and sharper than ever before.
Her huge body, along with the weight of the heavy axe, made for powerful strikes.
With one swing, she struck the shin of a Giant, and instead of the usual purple blood, black blood flowed out.
With one blow, the bone fractured and the leg half collapsed, causing the Giant to stumble under its own weight.
Another Giant, standing nearby, swung its fist, but Ayul caught it with one hand.
Thud!
Instead of deflecting it, she caught it. She was incredibly strong. It made one think she could match Audin in an arm-wrestling contest.
"The spirit of the bear is with me."
Ayul muttered as she swatted the Giant's fist aside and swung her axe.
The large battle axe, double the size of a normal axe, fell vertically onto the Giant's foot.
Crack.
The bone broke and blood spurted.
Black blood splattered on her face, and the corner of her lips curled up in a smile.
It was a grin.
She seemed to be enjoying herself.
She was definitely female Rem.
In any case, the couple fought incredibly well together.
Next to them, Dunbachel was also raging.
"Why are they coming back to life again?"
She used hit-and-run tactics to buy time.
The Westerners threw spears from behind her.
Dunbachel didn't seem to have any trouble getting herself out of the fight, but there were still quite a few Giants left.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Fwooosh.
A few of the smaller Westerners fired blowguns and swung some kind of hooked weapons.
The Giants hit by them screeched, bleeding from their eyes and noses.
Even if they didn't fall immediately, their combat effectiveness was clearly reduced.
It was a poisonous sorcery. It was the work of the small tribe that Rem had summoned.
Encrid realized they were allies and carefully avoided them as he joined the fight.
Roar!
A Giant swung its arms and legs like a windmill as it approached.
Encrid deflected the club and feet with Aker, then pierced a hole through the Giant's head with an upward thrust.
The blade came out with a spray of blood.
As Encrid watched the dead Giant twitch, he noticed it wasn't getting back up.
So, they weren't coming back to life this time?
Many Westerners had been shocked when the Giants suddenly began awakening, but now they were no longer surprised.
That was fine.
When Encrid fought them himself, he could tell that these Giants weren't as powerful as the two he had fought previously.
Normally, the Apostle and necromancer would have summoned ghost armor and bone weapons for them, completing the undead Giant warrior legion, but the necromancer was dead.
So they were only half-complete.
The chieftain, watching the battle, shed tears. At one point, he had thought something had gone wrong, but it hadn't.
Most of the warriors, including those who had gone out with Big Wing, had been prepared to die.
They stood there with the mindset that it was fine if they died.
Yet no one had died.
The Apostle's last desperate struggle was also defeated by Encrid, Rem, and the beastfolk's blades.
The poisonous sorceryvseeped in and bound the Giants' feet.
The hands of the tribal warriors, who had been throwing spears from afar, finally stopped.
Because all the Giants were dead.
There were no more enemies to stab.
The small tribe disappeared as quickly as they had joined the battle.
They retreated to the side of the ravine, showing their palms as they quietly vanished.
They were people who believed that even speaking could cause problems.
Most of the Westerners respected their culture and let them go.
The battle, which had started at sunrise, ended before noon, and no one felt any sense of emptiness.
Nor did anyone think that it had been an easy battle, just because it had ended quicker than expected.
They simply felt that they could live their lives again.
They realized the threat had been removed.
It hadn't really sunk in yet.
But the fact that they had won was undeniable.
Under the gentle sunlight, Encrid felt the cool wind of the West.
Purple blood flowed like a river. The smell was foul.
Corpses lay everywhere.
But the chieftain and the Westerners didn't seem to notice any of that.
They only saw the two people who had started and ended this battle talking to each other.
Who were those two?
The prodigal son who had returned and the foreigner he had brought with him.
While Encrid enjoyed the breeze with Aker hanging down, Rem approached.
Encrid sensed what was on his mind and spoke first.
"You don't have to bow your head and thank me."
"…Did I say anything?"
Rem tilted his head in confusion.
Fortunately, they weren't close enough for others to hear their conversation.
Because of that, the admiration of those watching didn't crumble away.
Ayul approached and looked at Encrid, thinking,
'Is this guy a little crazy?'
But since he was their benefactor, she kept quiet.
If she complained now, she would just look like an ungrateful fool.
People would treat her like a stray cat, and she would have no defense.
"Well, if you're grateful, then just do well in the future."
Encrid spoke again.
"Are you okay? You sound like you're hearing things. Maybe you need treatment."
Rem quickly responded.
It seemed like mad talk to Ayul, but she didn't mind it.
It was like she was seeing how these two usually got along.
'What has my husband been doing since he left me?'
The sight of Encrid and Rem together was like seeing a part of Rem's life that Ayul had never known.
That made her feel good.
They had fought, won, and now they were exchanging light-hearted banter.
"Well, how about we have a drink of the finest western alcohol?"
Rem expressed his gratitude in his own way.
Encrid casually nodded.
It was no big deal.
Compared to everything Rem had done for him, it really was nothing.
The battle was over.
The crisis in the West was also over.
* * *
They collected the bodies, buried them, and cleaned up.
Visiting the sanctuary would have to wait for later.
Apparently, the eldest sorcerer hadn't awakened yet, which was causing some trouble.
So be it.
In the meantime, various things happened.
"There will be a cliff engraved with your name."
Someone said this in admiration. They claimed to be from the Maru tribe.
The time to mourn the dead was short. For them, death wasn't the end. It was their culture.
While they worked, all kinds of people approached.
"Have a drink."
An old man offered him some alcohol.
"Phew, I'm trying to go to the continent, but my mother's against it. I need a place to hide until I leave, my lord."
Ziba was still dreaming.
Dunbachel seemed lost in thought after the battle, either staring into space or dozing off.
Luagarne fit in well with the Westerners.
By asking them various questions and exploring the ecology and culture of the West, she naturally integrated with them.
"We cannot truly call you a hero, for in our land, the word has a different meaning. But we wish to call you an honorary hero."
The chieftain, standing by a large bonfire, spoke.
His words drew the attention of all present.
Encrid stood there calmly.
It was the night after the battle.
The excitement and emotions had yet to fade.
"Foreigner, I speak on behalf of all Westerners. From now on, you are our friend."
The chieftain bowed and placed his forehead on the ground.
Rem had told Encrid what that posture meant.
He said that if he were to ask the chieftain to come to his room tonight, naked, the old man would comply without complaint.
That thought was horrifying.
"It was nothing."
Encrid politely declined.
Behind the chieftain, Ayul and the others all placed their foreheads on the ground as well.
Compared to what Rem had done for him, this was nothing.
But to these people, it was more valuable than anything else.
It was the act of preserving their lives.
The act of protecting the soul of the West, allowing them to continue living.
"They're just thanking you."
Rem, sitting to the side, chuckled as he read Encrid's thoughts.
Encrid spoke once more.
"It really was nothing."
He meant it.
Compared to what Rem had done for him, it truly was nothing.
The Heart of the Beast was the beginning. Without it, he wouldn't be who he was today.
So, was all of this just luck? A gift of coincidence? The fickleness of the Goddess of luck?
Of course not.
Luck favors those who are prepared.
Encrid wasn't denying his own efforts.
He was simply grateful.
So, to him, this was no big deal.
But he knew well that it wasn't the same for these people.
The chieftain stood and spoke again, without even brushing the dust off his knees.
"Eat and drink."
With the chieftain's permission, everyone did so. A celebration began.
"For the soul of the West!"
"For the bear and the thunder!"
"Grime, I thank you for hearing my plea!"
"Dawn Bird, bring forth the sun!"
They shouted various phrases as they raised their cups and tore into the meat.
The festival lasted two days. Encrid joined in.
He drank plenty of alcohol made from goat's milk, sheep's milk, and cow's milk, but he didn't get drunk.
After drinking so much, the next day he worked up a sweat, and it felt like all traces of last night's alcohol were gone.
It was a clear and moderately dry morning.
And the eldest sorcerer finally awakened.
It was the same sorcerer that Rem had said was needed to help him regain his sorcery.
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