Chapter 713 - Against the Waves
The moment Rhinox felt the formless force tightening around his body, he lightly clashed the swords held in both his hands.
He simply used the sword in his right hand as a support and tapped it with the sword in his left.
Ching!
The faint metallic scrape spread through the storm like a sharp blade slicing the air.
Though the tiny noise was quickly drowned out by the storm's violent howls, the sound itself didn't matter.
He wasn't trying to sense anything through hearing anyway.
His specialty was waves.
The two swords, imbued with his Will as they struck, released a pulse that only Rhinox could perceive and detect.
That pulse was the secret behind the unmatched scouting ability that made him Yohan's finest.
'Look at these bastards.'
With that, he quickly located three scalers using telekinesis.
All three were reaching toward him, while a larger, sturdier-bodied scaler was blocking the path ahead.
They moved as pairs, their coordination almost flawless as if they had been trained.
'Did you train them yourself, Hescal?'
Could monsters actually understand language?
It was a curious thought, but he doubted he'd get the chance to find out.
It was just a sudden intuition.
Rhinox then threw the sword in his right hand, driving it into the ground with a solid thunk.
The blade sank halfway into the earth.
Using the earth as a makeshift scabbard, he tilted the sword, then drew a third sword from his back and hurled it forward with all his might.
Swoosh—
The sword, about the length of a forearm, shot forward in a straight line.
No matter how fierce the storm, it couldn't stop a chunk of metal hurled by a knight's strength.
Clack!
The large-bodied scaler caught Rhinox's thrown sword mid-air.
Its scales' hardness and toughness were impressive, but what was even more surprising was its athletic ability — catching a large, fast-flying object from a distance.
"What a load of crap."
Rhinox then yanked his outstretched hand.
Crack.
The sword slipped free from the scaler's grip and flew back to him.
His swords were weapons that would always return to his call.
Whoosh, tap.
The spinning sword neatly landed back into Rhinox's grasp.
The telekinesis-wielding enemies kept pulling tricks one after another.
He felt the pressure tightening around his body growing more annoying.
While he could still move — it wasn't like his arms or legs were completely tangled up — it was bothersome nonetheless.
Rhinox threw the sword in his hand once again.
But this time, he didn't just throw it.
Leaving the sword stuck in the ground, he drew a new one from behind his right shoulder.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary longsword, but upon closer inspection, it had no sharpened edge.
It looked like a practice sword.
As he dragged the drawn sword along the ground, the tip scraped against the earth.
Rumble!
As Rhinox ran, a long trench formed behind him.
Of course, with the storm raging, the trace would soon be erased.
This time, instead of catching the blade, the large-bodied scaler blocked it with the back of his hand.
The blade dug into the hand but didn't penetrate.
The creature had used its fist like a shield to block the sword.
It was a smart move.
Or perhaps, pure instinctive combat sense.
The scaler blocked with his left hand and grabbed the blade with his right.
This time, he likely intended to cling onto the sword even if Rhinox tried to call it back.
But this time, instead of summoning the weapon back, Rhinox charged straight toward him.
Crack!
The double assault — throwing the sword and then rushing in — was one of Rhinox's well-honed tactics.
And it wasn't just about closing the distance either.
The first sword he had thrown was called "Prey."
The sword now in his right hand was called "Hunter."
The Prey would always do its best to flee from the Hunter.
The dull-edged longsword traced a short, swift arc as Rhinox swung it forward.
Clang! Boom!
The Hunter wasn't meant for cutting — it was designed to strike.
When Rhinox slammed the flat pommel of the Hunter against the Prey's rear, overlapping waves erupted, sending the Prey shooting forward at twice its original speed.
Boom!
A sword-sized arrow tore through the air, cutting straight through the storm.
As the blade passed by, it tore apart half the head of the large-bodied scaler blocking its way, splattering blood and flesh into the raging storm, where it was swept away.
Originally, the Prey's target had been the telekinesis user standing behind.
But having pierced through the large scaler's hand, the Prey continued in a straight line, bursting through the head of the telekinesis wielder beyond.
The enemy's attempt to block with both hands thrown forward was useless.
When the hunter is lifted, the prey doesn't even come when called.
This was a technique that utilized an imprinted weapon through the Knight's Oath—a hidden trick of Rhinox.
Everyone probably had at least one move that was difficult to use in a spar.
Rhinox swung the pair of thin swords he held in his left hand and cleanly sliced off the neck of a Scaler whose head was already half gone.
Crack, slice.
Even without putting much strength into it, the blade cut through easily.
Considering the hardness of a Scaler's body, it should have been impossible, but Rhinox's swords had several times the cutting power of ordinary ones.
The downside, however, was that they broke easily despite being imprinted weapons—but that was something he could compensate for with skill.
He had even changed his entire swordsmanship style to maximize his weapons' sharpness.
His defensive swordplay, where he let attacks slide off and eroded the enemy's blade with his own, was born from this method.
Even within Yohan, it was neither an ordinary tactic nor a common art.
"Next."
Rhinox said, returning the Hunter to its sheath and reaching out.
Once the Hunter was retrieved, the prey would return as well.
The prey, reacting to the Will imbued in his hand, trembled briefly before flying back into his grasp.
The prey could do nothing but be thrown, return, or be knocked away when struck by the Hunter.
Because of that, Rhinox had customized the sword tip.
The blade, made of pure silver, was specially crafted and diamond-coated—costly, difficult to make, and prone to shattering if struck wrong.
But Rhinox saw no problem, using it only for stabbing or throwing.
The prey was practically a blunt weapon anyway.
The tactics were strange, unique—a feast of skills that had long forsaken anything ordinary.
Rhinox finished off the two remaining Scalers that had bound him in the same fashion, then, while returning to where his main sword was planted, knocked down a winged monster targeting the clan leader's back with the prey.
Meanwhile, Tempest Yohan was smashing three monsters to pulp with his absurd sword swings.
He struck them head-first with the blade's flat side, driving them into the ground.
An owlbear's head and torso were shattered and torn apart, swept away by the rain as it sank knee-deep into the muddy ground.
Watching that, Rhinox struck his blades together again.
Bang!
By narrowing the force of the shockwave instead of spreading it wide, he could probe even further distances.
With that, Rhinox checked on Enkrid's situation.
After roughly sensing the situation through the wave, Rhinox spoke.
"I should have gone there."
Seeing the trap Hescal had laid, he understood the ploy.
It seemed Hescal had set up various tricks to counter Rhinox's techniques.
Enkrid of the Border Guard—a promising young friend.
Would he have the strength to overcome the fox Hescal's trap?
That, he didn't know.
Swoooooosh.
The rain continued pouring down, but the wind had slightly eased.
The amount of rain was still formidable, but even this was noticeably better than before.
"We've got plenty in front of us too."
At Tempest's words, Rhinox turned his eyes forward—
Then suddenly gagged, sour bile surging up from his throat and spilling onto the ground.
Even in the pouring storm, it was clear the vomit was laced with blood.
"I can't hold out much longer."
Rhinox said, grinding his boot into the vomit.
The medicine Anne had given him allowed his body to endure, but there was a time limit.
That was why he had deliberately fought ahead of Alexandra and Tempest.
He stirred up the enemy, luring those with supernatural abilities toward himself.
As a result, the strain on his body increased.
Even though he seemed to dispatch them easily, each monster was a formidable opponent.
He had to constantly release shockwaves to remain alert against those stealthily targeting him from behind.
"This won't be your grave, Rai."
Tempest said, taking his stance.
Ahead, four monsters were striding toward them.
Boom!
A bolt of lightning flashed white across the sky.
Even in utter darkness, a knight's eyes could see—but the lightning illuminated their enemies in vivid clarity.
They were Scalers—four of them.
Each had black and red scales mixed evenly.
Based on Rhinox's experience, a higher ratio of red scales meant stronger supernatural abilities.
Meaning, these four would be even more troublesome.
Until now, he had only faced enemies with a single red-scaled arm at most.
"Tempest, it's time we kept that childhood promise."
Rhinox had no gift for seeing the future, but even if he survived this battle, he knew there would be no path left for him to live.
"I just need some time. Give me half a year and I can fix it. But right now, your body's condition is..."
Anne had said this after examining him and giving him various medicines.
Yes, he already knew.
Ever since that bastard Hescal landed a blow on him, his condition had rapidly worsened.
Fever spiked, his heart ached, and he coughed up blood as if his organs were torn apart.
Man, I'm really dying here, he had joked once, but deep down, he knew.
This would be his end.
What was left now?
So many things, but at that moment, what surfaced was a promise from his childhood.
That if death ever came, he would go before Tempest.
They had made that vow.
Once rivals over the same woman, and lifelong friends who had spent nearly every moment together since birth.
"Go help Alex."
Tempest spoke, unable to infuse any emotion into his voice, but it was filled with sincerity.
"I don't need to!"
Somehow hearing them from over ten paces away, Alexandra shouted back.
Before her, a bundle of black smoke swirled, and from between the corpses of monsters, a black-armored hand clawed its way out.
A Death Knight.
The pinnacle of necromancy that uses a knight's corpse.
Even lesser Death Warriors were nightmares to most; a Death Knight was terror incarnate, beyond mere nightmares.
"I'll go first. You're the heir."
Rhinox repeated, and Tempest's gaze briefly touched his wife.
She said firmly,
"Believe in me, Tempest. I'm the Lightning Blade."
Yes, there was a time when Tempest hadn't even dared to think of beating her.
"Support Rhinox from behind. I'll say it again: this is not where you'll be buried."
They had to endure.
The head believed that every battle had a flow.
When the flow shifted, that was the moment to decide the outcome — until then, one had to endure.
Four Scalers stood before Tempest and Rhinox.
Two wielded short clubs, the other two had katar fitted over both hands.
The katar, a weapon where a sharp blade was mounted between two parallel bars connected by a horizontal grip, was designed for powerful thrusts.
Just from their weapons, the two could glimpse the enemy's tactics.
These monsters had survived countless battlefields.
Their weapons were short, their muscles dense and tight.
Rain bounced off their scales as if striking taut drums.
They would likely focus on high-speed, close-quarters assaults, nearly rivaling knights in physical prowess.
And no doubt, their weapons were poisoned.
"Haa."
Tempest regulated his breathing.
Just as his wife trusted him, he had to place his trust in her too.
"Just guard my back, Rhinox."
Far off, the Medusa watched the battlefield.
Because of her, part of his Will had been seized earlier.
Tempest lowered his head, avoiding her gaze — just enough to see the enemies' feet.
Since childhood, he had found it difficult to learn fancy techniques.
Instead, he had strength, enough to wield a heavy, unwieldy greatsword.
That hadn't changed.
Tempest Yohan's greatsword stabbed diagonally into the air.
His preparations were complete.
As Rhinox stepped into position behind him, a familiar voice rang out among the four Scalers.
It was a message from Hescal, sent through sorcery or some other spell — only the voice traveled.
"Tempest, these four are special monsters. Chimeras among chimeras, crafted to face knights.
They are the masterpieces of a genius alchemist and the monstrous prodigy of the last generation, who spent seventy years perfecting them."
It was an odd moment for an explanation.
"Stay tied up with them. I'll go kill your son.
I don't know where you hid Odincar, but I'll find the boy as well."
Heskal had glimpsed part of the head's heart.
Thus, he could shake him.
Rhinox, feeling a faint twinge of anxiety, glanced at the head's face.
But he remained unchanged.
No emotions surfaced.
It was his defect — but at times like this, it became a mask that betrayed no weakness.
The moment Hescal's voice faded into the air, the four Scalers lunged forward.
Pak.
Rhinox narrowed his eyes and turned his back to them, avoiding Medusa's gaze.
From now on, his job was to guard his friend's back.
Even if the nausea boiling from his guts threatened to choke him, he would have to endure.
If he failed — he would lose his head.
"You've always talked about 'what's next' since you were a kid."
Andante was also an old friend of Alexandra.
Now, that friend had rejected the rest offered by death, rising again with black blood soaking her.
Devoid of reason, driven solely by pure combat instinct.
Andante, once a close friend, had turned away from love, from children, from everything.
All he ever sought was the next step upward.
"What comes next? I can go even further."
It was a dream easily corrupted into twisted desire.
But if it were Yohan, it was a dream they could have embraced.
Looking at him now, though, it wouldn't be wrong to call it a failure.
"I'll surpass you someday, Alex."
It was Alexandra who had held him back.
Neither the continent nor the empire could allow a killer born with an innate lust for blood to run free.
Andante needed to cut down someone with red blood at least once a month—and every three months at the longest, he had to kill someone.
He constantly craved murder.
"Now you can kill to your heart's content, Andante."
Alexandra spoke.
Siiiiiick—
The death knight born from the monster's corpse said nothing.
Instead, black steam spewed from between the blackened visor, thick with soot.
The rain and wind couldn't dissolve the black mist, which pierced the downpour and coiled around the helmet.
It wasn't some mystical sight—it was pure terror, so overwhelming it made one's knees buckle just by looking at it.
When a knight, drunk on the feeling of invincibility, dies and a sorcerer binds that death, they become a death knight.
The result is a fighter far superior to what they were in life.
There would be no easy battle against such a thing.
This was the blade Hescal had prepared specifically for Alexandra.
***
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