Chapter 88

In this grim battlefield, Latu, the commander of Eskish Castle, smiled at the imperial knight as if he were comparing drinks with an old friend in a tavern. If it was a pretense, he was a great actor; if it was genuine, he had a natural talent. Worm, who knew that one must laugh in adversity, was forcing a smile in front of his soldiers. He envied Latu's sensibility that suited the chaos of war.

The rationality of a soldier shouted to discard such trivial sentiment. In times of adversity, one must think simply. The only thing to do is to defeat the formidable opponent before him. The imperial knight, as if putting on a mask to suppress his emotions, declared:

"I will send you to the underworld, you old tree who longs for death."

"I've been waiting for those words!!"

In response to Worm's declaration of murderous intent, Latu swung his mace with glee. The forceful strike, which bent the rules, collided, and the magic power they carried raged to tear each other apart. Aiming for the moment of separation, Worm tried to cut off the five fingers, but the crude mace moved with surprising delicacy. It pushed away the approaching branch blade and turned to a counterattack. The physical difference between the old general with a massive build was significant. The thrust, mixed with strikes, was almost like a downward blow.

"Shii, iiii!!"

Judging the trajectory of the approaching mace, Worm rapidly tilted his body to the left. His left shoulder protruded, and his body, which had been facing forward, became a half-profile. The mace was swung again, tracing his shadow. Even without the power of the waist, it had enough mass and impact to serve as a deterrent.

Sliding his grip to the extreme tip of the halberd, Worm stepped in without hesitation. His posture was so low that he felt the ground close to him. The tip, adorned with studs, grazed the mask. The demon, far from being angry, seemed to enjoy the thrill ride.

The neck was far and heavily guarded. This was not an opponent who could be finished with one blow. He drove the axe head into the back of the knee like a hand axe. The imperial knight realized his mistake from the feedback. Latu did not take evasive action but turned his leg and blocked it with his greave.

"Huuuuu, nngggg!!"

The dull pain was bearable, and Worm, aiming to regroup, thrust and retreated. The thrusts he scattered once or twice were deflected by the handle.

In the eyes of the halberd probing the distance, the soldiers flowing in were visible. Part of a squad that had taken over from Moaiz's unit was engaged in a melee with the enemy. This was not unrelated to Latu. A Myard soldier, who had barely cut down an enemy, aimed at the old general from behind. A one-on-one duel was a luxury in times of war. There was no hesitation. Worm also spontaneously launched a small thrust to match the surprise attack.

"Giiya—"

Latu, aware of the surprise attack from behind, turned and swung his mace. Not just the sword, but the upper body of the unfortunate comrade exploded like a balloon. As the blood mist of the pitiful comrade rained down, the spear tip approached the neck. Worm was confident he had won, but the old general spun like a top.

The side face of the old general, rotating by the centrifugal force of the mace, was visible. One eye, though at the edge of his vision, was definitely looking at him. The moment the blade bit into the skin, a shock ran through his arm, deflecting it. It was a remarkable feat. For a moment, he had completely turned his back on Worm, swung the mace, and struck the spearhead with the handle.

"That was a close one."

"Don't talk nonsense!"

Latu, smashing a Myard soldier who was about to attack with his mace, declared. It couldn't even be called a sign of weakness. Already at a disadvantage, none of the remaining reinforcements, who had seen the miserable deaths of two comrades, dared to attack the old general.

"Help Lord Latu, take down the imperial knight!!"

A non-commissioned officer from Eskish Castle called out from the top of the earthwork.

"...Rodrigue"

"It's a battlefield, a battlefield. Fighting one against many is not dishonorable."

The old general neither denied nor affirmed it. Inspired by this, a mercenary aimed a side attack at the imperial knight. Two soldiers circled around to the rear, and two more joined Latu. Stagnation and hesitation only hastened death. The initiative was the key to gaining control.

Worm, without warning, leaped to the side, gripped the butt of the halberd, and swung it. The neck of a Cresst soldier, who thought he was out of range, split open. The comrade following behind bloomed a red rose at the throat and stiffened. The soldier, who was too slow, had his shoulder entangled by the branch blade and was pulled in. The scream of the soldier, whose shoulder blade was shaved off as he was pulled in, echoed. Pulling the soldier close, he released the halberd and grabbed the neck, then kicked the side of the knee to show it.

"Take me down too, aaaaahhhhh!"

A Yarkuk soldier from Eskish Castle, who still believed in Latu even after losing half of his limbs, thrashed his remaining limbs to avenge. It couldn't be called a futile struggle. Latu, leading the soldiers, aimed for a decisive battle. However, Worm had survived this melee and had become a lightly armored infantryman. He had learned ruthless methods to deal with multiple opponents.

"Quite a guy."

"Haa—ah!?"

The words, which could be taken as flattery or confession, were the last thing the soldier heard. Worm transformed the magic power he had built up on the back of the wounded soldier into a dazzling blue flame.

The body of the soldier, who was hit by the fireball at zero distance, literally disintegrated. The blue flame revealed the dawn and the gruesome scene on the earthwork. Through the gaps in the flames, he glared at the front. Explosions and human fragments rained down, and the Cresst soldiers who had stepped in close were lying like cut strings. In the midst of them, a shadow stirred. The powerful magic barrier had even withstood the "Will-o'-the-wisp." This level of attack wouldn't kill him.

"Rodrigue, don't worry about it. You focus on the right flank and take down the commander. Pressing with numbers will only result in more deaths."

"...May we win."

Latu, with a serious face, gave the order with an unyielding presence. Though his inner conflict was visible on his face, the non-commissioned officer called Rodrigue disappeared to the left flank, which Moaiz was in charge of.

"In this complex battle situation, the order from the deputy commander of Rehazen is to contain the imperial knight. In this situation, the 'Will-o'-the-wisp' can't be used. Even if it temporarily repels the enemy, it will burn the entire defense force."

"That's why you're buying time?"

In addition to the "Strong Strike," the thick magic barrier and superhuman physical abilities. If he were on the defensive, it would be difficult to break through. Worm had to defeat this old general and rescue the training company. He had no time for idle chatter.

"Well, listen... I've learned a lot, all at a painful cost. Despite my age, the fire of admiration has grown. It was you who quelled it. I've been able to fully utilize what I've built up and fight on the battlefield. But, at this age, I've realized something. It seems I'm a bit greedy. I want to surpass the imperial knight. Do you laugh at me for being foolish?"

Was it a confession of his inner thoughts or a renewed declaration of war? Despite the physical toll on his old body, his spirit showed no signs of weakening.

"This isn't a situation where we can laugh it off or a situation where we can laugh at the opponent."

Instead of the halberd, which had already shown several signs of wear, he drew the longsword from his waist. The imperial knight infused magic into the blade, lighting it with a blue flame.

"Hahaha, you still have a trump card!!"

"It's an offering, to light the way to the underworld."

"I don't need your help, aaaaaahh!!"

Carelessly, boldly, the two engaged in combat. Their interests were not aligned. The circumstances and beliefs they each carried pushed them to a quick resolution. They increased the weight of their attacks and decreased their evasion and defense. The mace pushed aside the iron armor and delivered a blow, while the flaming sword cut the old general's side. In the midst of the melee, the two, who were engaged in a life-or-death struggle, seemed full of openings.

The soldiers who saw this as a perfect opportunity to influence the battle situation. While Worm burned Cresst soldiers on the side, Latu also swept away the Myard soldiers with his iron mass, finding the interference entertaining. The intensity of the swordplay increased as they incorporated the interference into their duel.

The sword and mace scraped against each other, producing a grinding sound. The irregular sound, despite its randomness, lingered in the ears like a melody. The tempo of the attacks quickened, and the rhythm of the parries and counters created a diverse symphony. It was as if they were instruments of the battlefield.

But it couldn't last forever. As they separated, their bodies collided, creating distance. There was no room for hesitation. They secured the distance for a decisive blow. The blue flame flickering at the tip of the sword faced the heavy mace dominating the upper position. The countless scars etched by training and combat weighed down on Worm. There was no basis for it, but the experience he had gained on the battlefield whispered that the next move would decide the outcome. They stepped in from the upper position and delivered a fatal blow.

The sword tips, drawing blue trajectories, collided. A bone-numbing impact, but it didn't result in the usual clash of blades.

"What!?"

A light, clear metallic sound, an anomaly that couldn't be the result of previous collisions, distorted Latu's face. The sword couldn't slip through, but it could still cut.

The mace, which had been with the old general for decades, was not immune to aging. The sword, which had cut off the damaged tip, slipped through the mace. It severed the armor and the magic barrier, and the longsword burned through Latu's collarbone to his hip bone. Blood gushed uncontrollably from the fallen old general. It was a fatal wound, even beyond the reach of Ayane.

"Did you... take the... horn?"

The imperial knight silently watched the old general sink to the ground. His consciousness was already hazy, and his perception of the situation was unclear.

"Sorry, Rodrigue, I lost. Haha,