Chapter 709 - Intuition Stirs in the Mind
[TL: Guys, if you don't see a chapter in a specific day from monday to friday, there is a 98% chance I forgot to upload it. So pester my sorry ass on discord to do so.]
"There's still a chance for you. Come under me, and I will grant you what you desire."
Though the voice came from an unknown direction, the words of the alchemist Dmule pierced everyone's ears as if they were being whispered directly to them.
At some point, a faint scent wafted through the air—likely some sort of incantation—though it was a smell only Enkrid could recognize.
"Give it up. Tempest, as Dmule said, what can a swordsman or two and a girl possibly do?"
Hescal spoke, raising his left hand.
Behind him, more monsters slowly began to emerge, and when he raised his right hand, even more followed suit.
'He's divided them into units.'
Enkrid's gaze shifted as he observed the movement.
It was fascinating to watch how the monsters had arranged themselves, and even more so that they were organized into distinct groups.
When Hescal raised his left hand, the ones that came forward were Scalpers riding on lizard-like beasts.
The lizard monsters flicked their tongues as water from the pouring rain trickled down their faces, creating visible streams down the center of their brows.
The rain made it hard to distinguish colors, but the lizards weren't as black as they appeared, despite how it looked.
There were at least three hundred of them.
The Scalpers, though riding without reins, remained firmly seated on their beasts.
It was unlikely they'd fall off or get their heads crushed, considering the creatures they were riding weren't fragile, and anyone with the courage to ride into battle wouldn't be easily thrown off.
Hescal had betrayed the Yohan family, but he hadn't betrayed his own head.
In other words, he wasn't a complete fool.
'So many.'
The monster forces had now swelled to nearly two thousand.
On the gradually sloping downhill, several more monstrous shapes shifted sluggishly.
The creatures would keep coming; any knight could tell that.
From Enkrid's vantage point, he saw another group of Scalpers and Owlbears, more than three hundred of them, crouching to his right.
The numbers were far from small.
'Well hidden.'
It seemed likely that it was Hescal's doing, hiding these creatures from view.
He was skilled at manipulating information.
More monsters emerged from below, marching in formation.
Enkrid made a mental note that if the trainer of these creatures was human or from an intelligent species, he would ask how they trained them before killing him.
It was impressive to watch.
As his mind swirled with these thoughts, Enkrid's eyes caught sight of dark, bat-like wings attached to some of the creatures gathering on the right.
'Are they going to fly? They probably will.'
They wouldn't have attached bat wings just for decoration.
Considering that, the creatures on the right seemed lighter, as if designed for flight.
Perhaps their bones were hollowed out to make them capable of taking to the air.
Enkrid continued to observe the advancing monster army as he checked the positions of his allies.
From there, he gauged the distance between them and the enemy and compared their strengths.
He processed all the information needed for the battle in his mind.
"The flow of a battlefield is organic. Even a highly trained elite force can't predict all the variables that will arise in a fight. Of course, there are those who can calculate all these factors—like someone with eyes like Krais. But even Krais couldn't predict everything that happens on the battlefield in detail,"
Luargarne had once told him, teaching him about tactical thinking. Then she added:
"But for the battles I'm involved in, I can do something like that."
With a hint of confidence, she continued,
"That's how I can kill opponents stronger than me."
Enkrid reflected on this.
Was pure skill the key to fighting?
Was that what mattered in a battle for survival?
"Not at all."
Enkrid muttered to himself, his mind running calculations, assessing strategies.
He had to admit, Luagarne possessed rare talent, and the more he learned from her, the more he realized it was true.
"I'm a challenger, breaking through limits,"
She, Luagarne of the Frog race, had said that.
Her fighting style began with tactics, and the essence of tactics was deception.
Hescal's behavior mirrored this.
He had hidden his true strength.
While the existence of Dmule was within the expected range of the family's foresight, the rest was unexpected.
The monster army transformed into a military unit was especially surprising.
In other words, a battle of numbers was about to take place. I
n this moment, what the Yohan family needed most was someone to control the erratically moving forces—a single unifying direction.
"Feel the flow. Enkrid, you can do this. You've already led the battlefield through instinct before, haven't you?"
That was true.
He had blocked the Aspen army with an invisible wall.
Back then, it was instinct that moved Enkrid.
And now was no different.
BOOM.
The wrathful god roared through thunder.
CRACK!
A hand gesture toward the ground summoned lightning that scorched and shattered the earth.
The storm raged fiercer than ever.
To Enkrid's eyes, every single raindrop split apart as it fell.
Of his two streams of thought, one processed the situation, while the other calculated.
This was a variation of the Wave-Breaking Sword.
And now, thanks to what he'd learned from Jaxen, his instinct—honed beyond the five senses—came into play.
It surged through his mind, constantly digging, constantly delivering answers.
What he needed to do.
The flow he had to create.
'How do we win?'
The enemy had taken out the veterans embedded with their forces.
To prevent them from forming up.
So, what was needed here more than anything—was formation.
A shape that would not crumble.
Huuuup—!
Enkrid drew in a deep breath and gathered it in his abdomen.
Then, with pressure from his core, he exhaled sharply.
The air pushed past his vocal cords, turning into sound, carrying meaning—of course, infused with his Will.
"Clan heaaddd—! Hold that sspottt—! Walllll!"
Short and forceful words.
Would he understand?
He would.
And if not, he'd ask.
The clan head didn't even look back.
All Enkrid could see was the back of his head—but he answered through action.
Thunk!
He stabbed his sword into the ground and drew a line.
"With this rain, the moat'll fill itself nicely."
A joke, from him of all people.
He was declaring himself the wall—and the line he drew with his sword, the moat.
He would not let any monster cross that line.
And he spoke with his back.
"We are—!"
"Yohaaan!"
"Walkers of the blade's path—!"
"Seekers of the Way!"
It started with Riley's call, was picked up by someone else, and ended by Kato—the nineteen-year-old prodigy.
No matter what you do now, we will not be shaken.
That was the kind of wall the clan head had raised.
More than Enkrid had even asked for.
But it still wasn't enough.
He couldn't stop the wave of monsters alone.
He had simply created the core axis.
Enkrid brought his right hand to his mouth and sent his voice flying again.
"Alexandra! Ten paces to the clan head's right! Rhinox—how well can you fight?"
"You're asking me how well I can fight? Cut the damn bullshit. I've held a sword since before you were born."
"Doesn't mean you're good at it just 'cause you've done it long."
Even now, he threw in a joke.
Why joke while shouting until his neck veins bulged?
For the same reason the clan head, of all people, cracked one earlier.
The shoulders of those who'd stiffened at the sight of the monster horde—relaxed.
'Boost the morale of allies.'
Of course it was deliberate.
'Then read the enemy's flow—'
Draw that flow in, trap the battlefield within his own intent.
His instincts sparked and stung like lightning piercing his skull.
"Ana Hera, you may rampage freely!"
At Enkrid's shout, the shackles that bound the beast's blood inside her were released.
"Hahahahaha!"
Normally, Ana Hera suppressed her giant's instincts.
If she didn't, she'd have already killed several of her own people.
But on a battlefield overflowing with enemies—
There was no need to hold back.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The Giantkin charged across the muddy ground, kicking up water with every stride.
Mud sprayed to either side as she ran, forming a fan before slapping back to the ground.
By the time the water hit earth again, Ana Hera had reached the frontmost cluster of monsters.
It was a group of lizard-mounted soldiers, enough to be mistaken for cavalry.
From above, it would've looked like a crazed giant barreling into enemy lines alone.
"Intercept her!"
Someone shouted from the enemy's side—a follower of Hescal.
At the order, a dozen arrows flew.
Not arced shots, but direct ones—fired from close range by archers hidden among the monsters.
Tchk, thunk, clink.
Some glanced off her thick skin, others bounced off her iron helmet. One arrow lodged into her forearm but was quickly torn free by her wild movements.
It had only barely pierced the outer layer of her skin.
The Giantkin's hide was thick and tough.
Ordinary arrows wouldn't embed.
Those who'd been trapped in Yohan had forgotten that.
Enkrid knew the Hunter's Village was the enemy.
Could there be no skilled archers among them?
Of course there were.
But did they have arrows that could pierce a giant?
Some archers hesitated, their hands faltering on the bowstring.
A ripple of uncertainty spread through the enemy ranks.
Then Ana Hera met the first of the scalers mounted on their lizards.
The lizard opened its mouth wide, showing its jagged, saw-like teeth.
The rider on its back, a scaler, wielded a short, blackened spear in a reverse grip and thrust.
Enkrid couldn't see what happened next—but Ana Hera twisted her lips into a vicious grin and swung her sword.
She was a giant, drunk on instinct—but she hadn't forgotten that she was also a Sword of Yohan.
Which meant what she unleashed was Yohan's swordsmanship.
Fwuuk.
Her planted left foot sank into the mud up to her ankle, transferring power into the sword as she rose with a full-body motion.
A cleaving strike, packed with Will, in a broad, downward arc.
Fwahng!
The combination of giant strength and Will cleaved both the lizard and its rider clean in half.
Fwoosh!
Black blood gushed and splattered across her helmet.
The relentless rain quickly washed it away.
"All of you—DIEEEEE!"
The giant threw her head back and screamed at the sky.
Had Enkrid predicted all this?
No.
He had only followed his instincts.
"Kato, follow her and cover Ana Hera's rear!"
As he shouted, Enkrid's head whipped left and right.
When had he given the order?
Already, another group of monsters was charging toward the family head.
If I were Hescal, I'd wear them down with monsters too.
Not a tactic a normal human army could easily pull off.
But with monsters, there's no reason not to.
Monsters didn't feel fear.
So sacrificing them to drain enemy strength was a worthwhile trade.
Had he predicted this, too?
Not at all.
He'd built that wall of instinctively.
To cut down the number of dead here.
Lizard-mounted scalers, those with mixed red and black scales, steel-feathered owlbears, even airborne monsters.
They charged in formation.
Standing in their way were the family head, Alexandra, and Rhinox.
Only three?
No—three was more than enough.
A knight is disaster—a single one can cut down a thousand.
Those three could do just that.
Ana Hera would charge in and cause chaos, while Kato guarded her rear.
He wouldn't call them back.
Both had distinct specialties.
Group combat wasn't their strength.
Ana Hera needed to let loose, unleashing instinct and rage without worrying about friend or foe.
That would unlock her full potential.
Kato fights with hidden weapons laced throughout his body.
Which meant it was best for him to be surrounded by enemies.
He'd honed his skills traveling from village to village, training against multiple foes at once.
That training had led to his current form.
Some people were more suited for real combat than sparring—Kato was one of them.
Enkrid had deployed the two first to take advantage of that.
Strike first, and the enemy's formation would crumble.
Even monsters—or their monster grandfathers—couldn't avoid that.
The front line was already being swept up in chaos.
Enkrid's plan had worked.
Hescal pulled back the unentangled troops, reorganized, and started a flanking maneuver.
Truly clever.
Hescal was smart.
Enkrid had to admit that again.
But where Hescal used his head, Enkrid trusted his instincts.
So there was no reason to be shaken.
The enemy saw through his intent?
That was fine.
All he had to do was respond to the next move.
Their goal was clear:
Force us to fight alone.
Keep their side in formation.
Yohan had lost its most experienced veterans.
But that loss was filled by someone who had clawed his way up from the trenches, a commander forged in countless battles at the Border Guard.
And a man who had learned the art of tactics from a Frog named Luagarne.
***
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