Chapter 129
Charlotte nodded.
"These guys haven’t been dead for long. No insects are on them yet."
"It seems someone who knows how to use a blade," Ian added, clicking his tongue as he turned away.
"We can’t let that person get away. Change of plans. Secure the carriage well and follow me."
"...?! Got it!"
Charlotte watched Ian run uphill, her eyes wide, then quickly leaped toward the carriage. Meanwhile, Ian didn’t stop running.
... Anyway, since there’s still time left, we shouldn’t be too late.
Soon, the view of a massive mountain fortress came into sight. Sharpened wooden stakes stretched out like castle walls, and watchtowers rose at regular intervals. Beyond them, the roofs of wooden buildings followed the gentle slope of the mountain.
It was an excellent wooden fortress with living facilities, except that the watchtowers were empty. Fortunately, the assumption that they weren’t too late proved correct, as there was still noise coming from the distance.
Whoever it is...
Ian stepped beyond the half-open main gate. The smell of blood and rot hit his nose. Corpses lay scattered everywhere.
They have a lot of confidence, charging head-on like that.
The trail of death continued along the winding path between the log houses. Ian walked, impressed by the audacity of the forerunners. Judging by the previous bodies, they were no ordinary fighters.
Some relatively intact bodies had multiple stab wounds, but most had their necks slashed or guts spilling out horribly. Corpses, split horizontally, vertically, and diagonally, or even dismembered, were not uncommon.
Most had clearly been struck down in a single, incapacitating blow, unable to defend themselves properly. Broken swords and misplaced bolts were scattered around like straw.
"A massacre took place here...." Charlotte, who had entered the village behind Ian, muttered in awe.
"But they didn’t kill everyone," Ian said, striding between the buildings.
Following behind, Charlotte nodded. She could sense the faint presence inside the buildings. Almost every building they passed had survivors. Quite a few of them.Updated chapters at novelhall.com
"They only killed those who attacked," Charlotte observed.
"Exactly... all of them, no matter the human or the corrupt."
As they moved toward the source of the distant noise, Ian took in every corpse. He had no intention of letting the rogue knight getaway. If necessary, he planned to take him by force, so he needed to gauge the abilities of those who came before him.
Thwack—
"...!"
Ian’s eyes widened when he was halfway up the slope. A red flash erupted from the window of a two-story wooden building amid curses and shouts. The surprise was brief.
"Ha... So that’s who it is."
A smile crept onto Ian’s lips. He finally realized the identity of the forerunners. He wondered why he hadn’t recognized it immediately. There weren’t many people in this region with such sword skills and recklessness.
"Are they acquaintances?" Charlotte asked from behind.
Without stopping, Ian turned to her. "More than just acquaintances—"
He stopped speaking and looked ahead. With a loud crash, someone burst through the second-floor wall of the wooden building and fell. Rolling to a stop on the ground was a knight in full plate armor, without a helmet. He quickly stood up and shouted at the hole he had made.
"Everyone, stop that madman now! Don’t look so scared, you idiots! Fine... I’ll take away your fear!"
Purple energy swirled around him as he drew a longsword and pointed it at the hole in the wall. The corrupted energy spread along the blade. There were brief screams from inside the building, which then turned to guttural, choking sounds.
"You’ll never leave this place alive, you bastard—"
Ian, who had stopped to watch, finally let out a low sigh. "Starting at phase two already...."
Charlotte, standing beside him, looked at him as he muttered.
"What do you mean by that?"
"It means that the knight over there is our target."
The divine power, flowing like flames past the greatsword blocking its path, sliced vertically through the rogue knight’s body. Ian landed at the knight’s feet, rolled between his legs, and came to a stop.
Thwack—
A beat later, blood spurted up. The knight’s head and upper body split messily to the sides.
It seems the power has increased since it broke.
As he thought this, Ian readjusted his grip on the sword, its light fading. The severed parts of the knight’s body were writhing and swelling as they reattached. Despite burning with divine power, the regeneration didn’t stop.
"The... the dam..."
Just like a cockroach, thought Ian.
Ian poured all his remaining divine power into the knight’s back, then returned the Sword of Judgment to his pocket dimension. Drawing the Northern Warrior’s Longsword, he leaped once more.
Swish!
The sword, imbued with Wind Blade, slashed horizontally. With a scraping sound, the neck was deeply cut.
"Gah... Argh..."
Ian clicked his tongue, surprised that it hadn’t been severed. He forcefully kicked the rogue knight’s back, causing him to fall forward. Ian landed on the ground, rolled, and rushed toward him again. If it wasn’t cut off, he would just keep cutting until it was.
Whack! Whack!
Ian chopped down on the regenerating neck like he was wielding an ax. The head, which had been stubbornly hanging on, finally detached.
Ian then shot a fireball at the rolling head. The flesh, which had been writhing and trying to reattach, was engulfed in flames and burned away. The rogue knight’s body, trembling, finally went limp.
The quest completion window appeared. Closing it, Ian looked back and forth between the head that had turned into a roasted lump of meat and the limp body. It was a fittingly pathetic end for someone called a rogue knight.
In the end, I ended up getting the best part, Ian thought as he retrieved his sword.
Leaning against a nearby wall, he watched the wooden building where the commotion continued. Screams, howls, and the clash of steel were still coming from inside. Occasionally, a red light like blood flashed. There was no need to go in and help. Waiting here would be enough.
Wham—
Soon, with a sound like a leather drum bursting, a dark figure flew out from the wall the rogue knight had broken.
"Grr... Ugh...!"
It was a mutated minion, its muscles grotesquely swollen. The hollowed chest of the creature, which had rolled on the ground and stopped, swelled again with the sound of bones creaking.
Moments later, a red divine light spread from beyond the broken wall. A knight in full plate armor emerged. A red trail, like blood, descended on the fallen, corrupted being.
Splat!
The sword pierced the minion’s chest. The Red Knight, who landed while stepping on the bloated body, let go of the hilt and raised their fist.
Crack! Crack!
The divine steel fist smashed into the minion’s head relentlessly. The pounding ceased only after the head turned into a mushy pulp. The Red Knight, breathing heavily, pulled out the sword embedded in the chest. Flicking off the blood from the blade, The Red Knight turned around.
"...!"
Their movements stopped completely. The Red Knight looked like a statue of a holy knight imbued with divine power, much like the statue of Karha Ian had seen before. Ian’s lips curled into a smile as he finally met the frozen gaze.
"Ahhh?!"
A scream burst from the hole in the wall. A young man with brown hair barely stopped himself at the edge, his sword and shield flailing awkwardly. He had planned to run and jump, but he stopped at the last minute. After finally regaining his balance, he crouched down to retrieve his sword.
Leaning out from the building, he mumbled. "How did you jump down like that, sir? Oh... Wait... Sir, I can’t do it. Please catch me from below...!"
The squire, clinging to the wall, eventually shouted. He turned to look at the still-frozen knight.
"Sir? Can’t you hear me? Don’t just stand there... What are you staring at?"
The squire, finally noticing the direction the knight was looking, turned his head. He frowned in confusion, and then his eyes widened to the point of tearing.
"I, Ian, lord...?!"