“Gerard, do you see? That’s my apprentice Themar. Did I tell you how old he is? Eighteen, eighteen. Can you believe it?”
Stroking his short beard, Karlsten spoke with contentment.
“When a father boasts about his child, he loses all sense of moderation, and you’re exactly like that.”
Old Gerard replied in a raspy voice, peering at Themar through his blurry vision.
“Even hearing such a thing doesn’t bother me much. But this guy, he’s mastered all the skills I possess at just eighteen. When I think of the hardships I endured learning these techniques, I feel almost jealous.”
“Setting aside the fact that you’ve raised another master for Blackfoot, what are you planning to do with that incredible guy?”
“Well, I don’t want to use him for petty assassination tasks. He’s already skilled enough for real combat, so there’s no need to use him for practice killings. Honestly, I’m at a loss. I want to ask the heavens who entrusted me with such a genius! What should I use him for? Maybe I should just ask him?”
Karlsten gestured for Themar to come closer and asked him.
“What do you want to do in the future?”
Themar thought for a while and then answered in sign language.
‘I have someone I want to teach.’
“Already thinking of taking a disciple?”
‘They have talent and strangely follow me well.’
Karlsten ruffled Themar’s hair.
“Even fellow assassins are scared of you. But if they follow you well, I’d certainly be interested in teaching them. What’s their name?”
‘Heder. A girl about ten years old.’
“Do as you wish.”
Themar first met Heder among the captives brought in by the assassins after completing a mission.
The details were unclear, but for revenge, a wealthy man had requested the assassination of a slave trader. The agents swiftly completed the task, but there was no way to dispose of the young children the trader had with him. The wealthy client hadn’t mentioned anything about the children.
Normally, they would have been killed, but somehow, the agents ended up bringing the children to Blackfoot alive. The senior agent who made this decision was severely reprimanded, but Karlsten simply ordered to send the children back to their homeland. Heder was one of those children.
From the first encounter, Heder followed Themar. The girl, clinging to his leg and refusing to let go, was taken along by Themar without much thought. Unable to write or understand sign language, they couldn’t communicate. So, Themar left her by his side, thinking she would get bored and leave on her own.
But at some point, the girl began to mimic Themar’s sign language. He was greatly surprised by this. Eventually, Themar asked Karlsten to allow Heder to stay when the other children were sent home. Heder wanted to stay by Themar’s side as well.
To Themar, Heder was like a daughter. She was also the only child who had shown him what human affection was, in a world where assassins rarely experienced such emotions.
‘I also want to learn martial arts.’
Heder, having learned how to write, showed her wish on a note. Themar decided to teach her. However, before he could start teaching her properly, they were separated.
It happened after ‘that man’ came to Karlsten with a direct request for assassination. Themar didn’t know who he was, but he never forgot that face.
‘Themar, you must come back. I’ll be waiting for you.’
Heder, disobeying the order that no one should come out to greet, came out with tears streaming down her face, waving her hand. Themar, leaving behind the small child, felt as if his daughter was being forcibly taken from him.
“Don’t show tears, Themar. This is your first and most sacred mission. Don’t diminish its value with tears.”
Though he always obeyed Karlsten’s words, he felt a sense of rebellion against this command. But he obeyed his master’s order and did not look back, knowing he would not be able to hold back his tears if he did.
“Forget about returning, Themar. And brace yourself. Our opponent is Master Quain, the guardian knight of the Queen of Aranthia. As long as he does not leave Aranthia, it’s impossible to defeat him.”
☆ ☆ ☆
Dunmel reflexively opened his eyes and kicked off the bed, waking up. It was still dark inside the room, and only a faint light of early dawn lingered outside.
Dunmel hurriedly woke Loyal up.
‘They’re here.’
Without needing a long explanation, Loyal quickly grasped the situation.
“Everyone, get up!”
Loyal shouted as he put on his armor. Though confused, everyone followed Loyal’s lead and donned their armor.
Shortly after, a bell signaling an emergency loudly rang from the fortress.
By the time Loyal and Dunmel were running towards the gate of the fortress, the monsters had already started their attack. Without much discussion, they handed each other their weapons.
“Be careful,” Loyal said.
Dunmel clinked his dagger against the sword Loyal handed him.
As they had discussed earlier that day, Loyal ran towards the entrance of the fortress, while Dunmel headed to the northern watchtower. There were no monsters at the watchtower yet. It seemed they had all crowded towards the entrance.
“Let’s go support the entrance!”
As the soldiers guarding the northern watchtower started to move, Dunmel stopped them. He then quickly carved ‘Here.’ into a tree with the tip of his dagger.
“What? But there’s nothing here…”
The three soldiers at the watchtower looked back and forth between the entrance and Dunmel. Through the dim light of dawn, they could see a horde of monsters heading towards the fortress’s entrance. There seemed to be well over a hundred. The soldiers’ anxious eyes revealed that this attack was larger than usual.
They wanted to go help their comrades. Dunmel, unable to explain at length, simply held them back with his silence.
Shortly after, as Dunmel had predicted, monsters also began swarming towards the northern watchtower. There were as many as those who had rushed to the entrance.
“Oh no!”
The three soldiers, intimidated by the sheer momentum of the advancing monsters, staggered back in fear.
Dunmel grabbed a sharpened wooden spear meant for throwing and hurled it towards the leading monster. Like an arrow shot from the watchtower, the spear struck true, embedding itself in the chest of one of the creatures.
‘I should have brought a bow…’
Dunnmel regretted, throwing another wooden spear. Another monster fell, but it did little to slow down their charge. However, it did snap the frozen soldiers back to reality. They clumsily grabbed their spears, readying themselves for battle.
Without the time for encouraging words, Dunmel simply nodded his head. The soldiers, regaining some courage, nodded back in response.
The monsters, as they surely had done before, began to climb the wooden logs of the fortress in a mindless manner. The soldiers stabbed downward with their spears, knocking them off.
“Ah, a ladder?”
One of the soldiers tapped Dunmel’s shoulder, pointing towards a section of the fortress wall. Judging by his reaction, it seemed this was the first time the monsters were using ladders.
Some of the monsters awkwardly placed ladders against the wall and began to climb, their movements as clumsy as a child climbing a ladder for the first time. Dunmel left the fortress in the hands of his soldiers and ran along the narrow wooden wall to kick the ladders away. The ladders shook violently, and the monsters clinging to them fell in heaps. However, more monsters quickly climbed up the ladders again.
Standing on a wooden pillar no bigger than a coin, Dunmel had limited options against the hundred or more monsters swarming towards him. Positioned at the edge of the railing, he sliced down the monsters one by one as they climbed up the ladder. Meanwhile, other monsters were climbing up another ladder, entering the fortress unopposed.
The vigilante group soldiers, arriving late to support, fended off the monsters that had infiltrated inside. The soldiers on the watchtower, swinging their spears, fought desperately. At first, their defense seemed to work, but gradually it became overwhelming.
After breaking all the visible ladders, Dunmel leaped back into the fortress and plunged into the chaotic battle where soldiers and monsters were entangled. With his dagger, he swiftly brought down four monsters, spilling their blood on the ground.
It was fortunate that the monsters’ vital points were not much different from humans. Reflexive strikes were sufficient.
With simple, small motions, Dunmel stabbed and brought down one monster at a time. In a situation where the number of opponents was unknown, he wanted to conserve as much energy as possible while fighting.
Soon, the number of dead Mozes by his side exceeded ten. Dunmel climbed the wall again and cut down a newly placed ladder with his sword.
The battle repeated in this manner. Dunmel remembered climbing the pillar and knocking down ladders more than a dozen times. There were thirty bodies of Mozes inside the fortress, and most of them were killed by Dunmel, not the soldiers.
The attack of the monsters weakened. Checking the entrance guarded by Loyal, he saw that their numbers had significantly decreased. Loyal, having less combat experience than the other White Wolves, might not be accustomed to fighting against many, but there was no need to worry.
What he learned from Gerard would be enough.
‘How is the south doing?’
Dunmel worried about the unseen southern watchtower. However, he couldn’t leave his post to support there.
Dunmel shook off the flesh of a monster stuck to his arm and leaped back onto the fortress’s watchtower. The Mozes were persistently climbing the walls. At least thirty to forty of them remained below.
“We’ve almost held them off,” a vigilante group soldier said, visibly exhausted.
Inside the watchtower, there were two Mozes’ corpses, and a soldier lay fallen. His forehead bone was broken, exposing the inside.
Suddenly, several monsters below leapt towards the watchtower simultaneously. At first, it seemed like an incredible leap. However, it turned out that a few of them had joined forces to throw their comrades up. The ones thrown without any control couldn’t land properly and fell violently, losing consciousness. But one of them, luckily, managed a successful landing.
Dunmel immediately slashed the throat of the monster as it landed. But that was just the beginning.
As the monsters began to successfully hurl themselves into the watchtower where Dunmel was, the area quickly filled with a few of them. Dunmel first kicked away a monster attempting to attack him from behind and grabbed another charging from the front by its throat, throwing it up against the ceiling of the watchtower. The monster he kicked flew out of the fortress, falling back among its own kind, while the one that hit its head on the ceiling fell, its neck broken. In the midst of these movements, his sword swiped at three more monsters clinging to the watchtower, causing them to fall.
If anyone had the skill to recognize the movements Dunmel executed in those two rotations, they would qualify for the Wolf Knights’ test. Of course, the soldiers present weren’t at that level and were merely astonished at how the monsters were flung out after entering the watchtower.
Dunmel pointed to the ground, signaling the soldiers to keep guarding the area. They quickly regained their composure and responded firmly.
“Understood.”
The number of incoming monsters had significantly decreased, but there were also a few injured soldiers.
‘These creatures have poison in their claws, don’t they?’
In the midst of the frantic fight, Dunmel checked his body for any scratches. Apart from the injury he had sustained on his first day in Lutia, there were no particularly painful spots. The blood drenching him was all from the monsters.
He then ran towards the southern watchtower.
☆ ☆ ☆
Themar, fighting against two knights of the Wolf Knights, was gravely injured in his leg at the last moment and fell. Simultaneously, the knights also sustained serious wounds, unlikely to recover soon, and knelt down.
One of the kneeling Wolf Knights spoke.
“You look young, but your skills are impressive.”
Karlsten, standing in front of the two knights, said,
“I didn’t coat this child’s sword with poison. With emergency treatment, you might survive. If he had come to kill you, he wouldn’t have had the chance to hear these words. So back off. I only want your Queen.”
“If you’re after Her Majesty the Queen, just fight with poison on your sword,” one of the Wolf Knights said as they both struggled to their feet.
The knight who spoke was bleeding heavily, barely able to open his eyes.
From behind a nearby pillar, the Queen’s maidservants watched the scene intently. Though fearful, they did not flee, their bravery as impressive to Themar as the Wolf Knights.
“Please treat these two knights,” Karlsten politely requested the maidservants. Immediately, four maidservants rushed over, skirts in hand, to shield the knights. One of them clasped her hands together and asked timidly,
“Why do you seek to harm Her Majesty the Queen?”
Karlsten smiled bitterly.
“I cannot disclose that reason. All I can say is to trust the Queen’s guardian knights.”
Before more Wolf Knights could arrive, Karlsten hurried towards the Queen’s chamber. Themar, though staggering, kept pace with his master. At the end of the immaculately clean corridor that could instill a sense of reverence in anyone entering, stood a wooden door engraved with a wolf raising its head to the sky.
“Themar,”
Karlsten said, placing his hand on Themar’s shoulder as they stood before the door.
“When the time comes, reveal the client and do the ‘thing I couldn’t do’.”
Themar, puzzled, responded in sign language.
‘You said something similar when we left Blackfoot, but I still don’t understand. There was something wrong from the moment you accepted the request.’
Karlsten replied in sign language as well.
‘If they overhear my story from inside, the Queen’s guardian knight might not give his all. He must think of me only as an assassin and fight me with all his might. Thus, from now on, I’ll speak in sign language. Do not misconstrue my intentions and remember them well, Themar. This is my last will.’
‘Master Karlsten! Please don’t say such things. You are beyond anyone’s reach…’
‘Stop signing. Just watch my signs. Are you going to interrupt even a master’s last words?’
Themar, flustered, lowered his hands.
‘Didn’t you see it yourself? The two Wolf Knights we thought were just guards incapacitated you, who, apart from me, no one in Blackfoot could touch. And I’ve heard there are nearly fifty such knights here. In this room, there’s the strongest of them all. His name is Quain. I know it. Soon, his name will become legendary among all who wield a sword.’
‘You intend to fight, knowing you might lose?’
‘The client’s request was the assassination of the Queen of Aranthia. I had no intention of accepting it. However, if I had refused, he had the power to wipe out Blackfoot instantly. Strange, isn’t it? Having such power, why did he need to rely on someone else? I realized it when I crossed the White Gate. His evil power cannot pass through the White Gate.’
Themar had already sensed this.
‘So, he tried to use me. The moment I heard the request, I had to decide. Either kill him or let Blackfoot be destroyed.’
Themar was keenly aware of the presence of two people in the room. One emitted a strong aura he had never felt before, and the other was almost imperceptibly transparent.
‘I thought of a third way. My death. If I attempt to assassinate the Queen of Aranthia, surely the guardian knight will stop me. That guardian knight must be the captain of the Wolf Knights, the one who defeated Captain Welch of Excelon.’
Karlsten paused his signing and closed his eyes.
‘Can you understand this feeling? I’ve always sought great power. I’ve never lost to anyone known to be at the pinnacle of strength. That’s why I’ve survived until now. But one evening, a voice rebuked me. Can you really say you’ve survived after fighting a truly powerful opponent?’
Karlsten slowly opened the door, then spoke with only his lips moving.
‘The one at the pinnacle is right beyond this door. In this fight, I will die. If I somehow defeat Quain…’
Karlsten grinned and gently tapped Themar’s chest.
‘Then you must kill me. This is my last will.’
Themar couldn’t respond.
Beside the bed with its sheer curtains was a small pond in the center of a mountain. The Queen stood in front of the pond, her gaze on Karlsten and Themar, almost invisible. In front of her stood a man with his hand on an unsheathed sword.
“What’s your answer?”
Karlsten gently placed his hand on Themar’s shoulder. Themar clenched his teeth and nodded.
“Thank you.”
The master silently approached Quain. He slightly bowed his head in greeting, following the etiquette of Aranthia, and then gripped the Katar in his hand.
Quain nodded back in greeting and drew his sword with a black blade. The sword of Aranthia emitted a faint light. Whether it was reflecting the sunlight or the blade itself was emitting light, Themar couldn’t tell. He couldn’t see anything through his tears.
A brief silence passed between the two masters.
☆ ☆ ☆
‘I’m late.’
The monsters had already crossed the southern boundary and reached Downsearch. Villagers were screaming and fleeing in panic. Chaos swept through the village.
A monster was repeatedly hacking at the back of an old man it had knocked down, not stopping even though the man was already dead.
Dunmel felt as if his head would burst with rage. He charged at the monster and stabbed it in the neck with his dagger, twisting it to break its neck. The monster grabbed Dunmel’s wrist, flailing briefly and scratching his arm with its nails.
Dunmel broke the creature’s neck bone with his blade and decapitated it. He then slammed its head onto the ground. Blood spurting from the headless neck drew an arc as the monster fell.
‘There are more than I thought.’
Dunmel exhaled short, sharp breaths to ease his exhausted lungs.
A monster jumped at Dunmel from a thatched roof. Without looking, he turned and drove his foot into its head. The squishy sound of the crushed skull was followed by a gush of fluid spilling onto the ground.
Some monsters came leaping on two legs, while others on all fours, and several of them attacked Dunmel at once. Holding a dagger in each hand, he slashed down each one as they reached him.
It was not until about twenty corpses of Mozes were piled up in the middle of Downsearch that the soldiers appeared. Dunmel was sitting amidst the bodies, catching his breath.
Everyone seemed astounded by Dunmel’s solo effort in slaying so many monsters. He paid no attention to their whispers and stood up. Although Dunmel didn’t ask, one of the soldiers informed him,
“We’ve blocked the entrance. Knight Loyal has eliminated all the monsters.”
In the distance, stretchers were busily carrying away the wounded. Among them was Captain Koret of the vigilante group. His face was so bloodied it was hard to tell if he was dead or just unconscious.
The eastern entrance of the fortress showed signs of an even more intense battle. The bodies of vigilante group soldiers among the monsters’ corpses indirectly spoke of the fierceness.
Dunmel found Loyal standing at the entrance. Loyal too was covered in blood. Dunmel wiped Loyal’s cheek with his hand, stained with crimson. Flesh came off. The wiped spot was clean.
‘Any injuries?’
Dunmel asked in sign language.
“There are a couple of cuts from a sword, but nothing serious.”
‘How’s your neck?’
“My neck?”
Loyal felt the wound he had received earlier and shrugged.
“It doesn’t bother me anymore. Must be the sorceror’s potion; it healed quickly.”
‘Casualties on our side?’
“I’m not sure. It was chaotic fighting. But I heard we lost about five.”
Regret filled Loyal’s voice.
“I should have fought alone from the start…”
‘Don’t be so sure. They may look clumsy, but if you let your guard down and get hit even once, it could be fatal.’
Loyal looked towards the entrance with moist eyes.
“It seems like more will come next time.”
‘I think so too. And if more come than this time, we alone won’t be able to hold them off.’
Four sorcerors on horseback approached from the tower. Dunmel recalled their names.
Ettley, Justin, Luder, Philip. Ettley, who had been the most critical of Dunmel and Loyal in the meeting, approached with a worried expression and said,
“Are you alright? We were a bit late.”
“Didn’t you say the monsters were immune to magic? Can you really be of help?”
Loyal’s words, though spoken without much thought, could have provoked the sorcerors. However, the long-haired sorceror Philip smoothly handled it.
“Magic itself might not work, but we still have some useful techniques.”
Ettley continued Philip’s thought.
“Magic flames or cold spells don’t affect them, but physically striking them with force is as effective as a sword blow.”
He pointed in a direction.
“Based on my recent observations, there are about three to four hundred Mozes gathered in the forest. They seem ready to attack, so we joined in.”
Dunmel conveyed his thoughts through Loyal.
“Dunmel says the southern boundary is vulnerable; he asks you to take charge of it. I will guard the fortress entrance, and Dunmel will take the north.”
Luder nodded in agreement.
“We’ve wanted to defend in this manner before, but we lacked the manpower. Not that we’ve faced such an attack before.”
Luder turned to the two mounted sorcerors and gave orders.
“Philip, Ettley, you two take the southern boundary. I’ll join Knight Loyal at the fortress entrance, and Justin will be with Knight Dunmel at the northern watchtower.”
Dunmel ran towards the northern watchtower as directed. By the time Justin arrived on horseback, Dunmel was already there.
“Did you use magic to run here?”
Justin asked in surprise, but Dunmel, exhausted from running back and forth between the north and south, couldn’t make out his lips. Justin leaned from his horse, placing his hand on Dunmel’s shoulder. A white light flowed through his shoulder, enveloping his body for a moment before disappearing.
Dunmel looked down at his hands in astonishment, noticing light particles falling off his fingertips and elbows.
“This should help to some extent.”
The blond sorceror smiled broadly and raised his staff. The staff, a twist of white and red wood, shimmered with particles of light. The sorceror, seated straight-backed and confidently handling the reins, looked as skilled as any knight who had spent years on horseback.
“The teachers from Kainswick are also preparing for battle and heading this way. With them joining, we should be able to hold off about three hundred Mozes.”
He said this encouragingly. Dunmel simply nodded in response.
From afar, faint vibrations from the ground signaled an approaching threat. Justin raised his staff and shouted something to the soldiers on the watchtower. “Yes, Master,” they replied. Despite his youthful appearance, Justin had a commanding presence.
Soon, Mozes began to swarm over the walls of the fortress. The number of ladders hooked onto the wall was three times more than before. As Dunmel moved forward to engage, Justin tapped his shoulder with the staff.
“I’ll take the first round.”
Justin lifted his staff, closed his eyes, and muttered something. Meanwhile, monsters, like insects, were swarming over the wall. The soldiers on the watchtower, overwhelmed, retreated from their positions.
Justin’s staff glowed so brightly that it was difficult to look at directly. About sixteen soldiers near the fortress retreated behind Justin on his horse.
Justin waited until the Mozes were ten steps away before thrusting his staff forward. An invisible force pushed his horse back, and at the same time, nearly thirty Mozes were blown away towards the wall of the fortress. The sturdy wooden wall vibrated heavily, and the monsters that hit their heads against it fell forward. Several of their skulls cracked open, staining the wall with blood.
The soldiers shouted in triumph and rushed towards the fallen monsters with their spears.
Justin’s horse, startled by the commotion, shivered.
“So far, this is the only way we have been able to stop the monsters. We’ll leave the rest to you. To use the same magic again, I’ll need some time.”
Justin spoke calmly to Dunmel, but beads of cold sweat were already running down his face. If this was the kind of magic forced to adapt against monsters immune to magic, Dunmel couldn’t imagine what a properly cast spell would be like.
The ladders hooked on the wall had all fallen due to the impact of the magic, and half of the monsters that hit their heads or backs against the wall were either dead or immobilized. The few Mozes that could still move were disoriented and couldn’t defend against the spears thrust by the young vigilantes.
The first wave of attack was easily concluded without Dunmel having to step in.
Then, more than a dozen ladders were again placed against the fortress walls. Dunmel climbed the wall where the ladders were hooked. Face to face with a monster climbing up, Dunmel headbutted it in the nose, causing it to fall backwards, making the others behind it hesitate.
With a strong push, Dunmel toppled a ladder with five monsters clinging to it. They fell to the ground, flailing helplessly like insects.
Standing atop the wall, Dunmel looked down at the monsters. Their varying fur colors lacked any pattern, yet their struggle to climb the wall resembled ants targeting a large prey.
‘Am I tired from lack of sleep? I feel exhausted.’
The number of attacking monsters was significant here too, but even more were at the eastern entrance. Time was running short. Loyal alone would struggle to cope.
‘I should go help. Two are more efficient than one.’
Dunmel didn’t jump back inside the fortress where the soldiers were, but instead leaped over the wall towards the swarm of monsters.
As he descended, his kick sent a Moze tumbling, which in turn knocked over others. The ones that didn’t fall charged at Dunmel, swinging their blunt weapons. Like in Downsearch, they didn’t care about injuring their companions as they attacked him. There was no strategy or order. Dunmel relied entirely on his reflexes to react to their movements.
Even as warm blood splattered on his face, Dunmel felt nothing more than the sensation of an unpleasant liquid touching his skin. Blood, sweat, and the air stirred by the horde became increasingly heated around Dunmel.
‘Keep your movements light. These things are like irregularly moving boulders.’
Dunmel had trained to dodge falling rocks on a cliff and arrows in flight as routinely as eating. That training was more intense than any of the numerous battles he had survived.
As he moved from one Moze’s head to the next, Dunmel thought of his training of stepping on hollow gourds floating in a flowing river. Crushing a Moze’s skull while descending was not as hard as breaking a rock with his heel. Watching the number of monsters dwindle, Dunmel reminded himself to stay focused.
The last five remaining Mozes collapsed flat on the ground without Dunmel having to touch them, as if crushed by an invisible boulder. Over ten wooden spears had pierced the twitching bodies of the monsters. Soldiers and the sorceror Justin stood on the watchtower. Justin shouted in surprise.
“Jumping into the midst of the monsters’ horde, what kind of reckless act is that?”
Dunmel, indicating he was fine, raised his hand.
“I’d like to be angry, but it seems that reckless act wasn’t so reckless for you.”
In truth, it was a reckless act. Dunmel pointed out the reason for his recklessness – monsters were swarming the eastern entrance of the fortress. He then pointed towards the north, indicating the forest.
Another twenty or so Mozes were approaching Dunmel’s position. Dunmel pointed to himself, then to the distant fortress entrance, then to Justin, and finally to the twenty Mozes coming from the forest.
Justin understood his meaning.
“Alright. We’ll take care of this side.”
Dunmel received a bow and two quivers from one of the soldiers. He ran toward the eastern entrance, where around a hundred Mozes were clustered, strapping one quiver on his back and the other around his waist.
More than ten ladders were already hooked on the eastern entrance wall.
As he ran, Dunmel shot an arrow, striking a Moze just as it was climbing over a ladder. He didn’t pause, attacking the next ladder, then the Mozes on the ground. Reaching a certain distance, he stopped and continuously fired arrows. One Moze fell for each arrow shot. The quiver at his waist quickly emptied.
The Mozes didn’t even realize where the attack was coming from until twenty of their comrades had fallen.
Only when Dunmel reached for the quiver on his back did the Mozes discern his position. Those waiting to climb the ladders at the fortress wall changed direction and rushed towards Dunmel.
‘Yes, come to me. You should only focus on me.’
Dunmel kept shooting arrows without panic. Despite the shower of attacks toppling countless Mozes, they didn’t stop. Nor did Dunmel retreat or cease firing his bow.
As each fell, another would trample over it, and yet another would stumble over them, all rushing towards Dunmel. Eye, throat, chest, face – each Moze fell exactly where Dunmel aimed, and as he released the bowstring for one, he had already targeted the next. A line of Mozes’ corpses formed straight towards Dunmel.
Then, from the Outsearch forest, twenty Mozes carrying blunt wooden pillars on their shoulders charged towards him.
With no arrows left and overwhelmed by the number of incoming monsters, Dunmel climbed back over the fortress wall. A soldier on the watchtower shouted something at Dunmel, but his mouth was obscured by his helmet.
The soldier threw another quiver to Dunmel, apparently offering more arrows. Dunmel emptied the contents into his quiver on his back.
Leaning precariously on the wall, Dunmel shot arrows at the Mozes climbing up. Looking back briefly, he saw that monsters had already crossed the wall and were engaging the soldiers inside the fortress. Loyal was cutting down numerous foes, but couldn’t stop all the widespread attacks.
Some Mozes had even breached the defense line and were starting to run towards the unprotected village.
The attack had become uncontrollable. Dunmel shot down two Mozes climbing the wall with arrows and eyed the ones running towards the forest carrying wooden pillars.
‘Could they actually be planning to use those?’
The Mozes rammed the wooden pillars into the entrance of the fortress. The gate shook violently upon impact.
‘These creatures are laying siege?’
The upper watchtower was already overrun by the monsters, leaving no one to stop their battering ram attack. The soldiers supposed to defend the tower and gate were overwhelmed, fighting the Mozes that had climbed over the fortress walls.
Dunmel steadily took down one monster after another with arrows, targeting the entrance. However, every time one fell, another took its place, making it impossible to slow down the destruction of the entrance.
It was then that Dunmel sensed something different from the direction of the forest.
It wasn’t a Moze. Yet, it was among the Mozes.
While distracted for a moment to confirm this, a monster climbing the wall leaped and swung its axe at him. Dunmel barely twisted his body to dodge but lost his balance and fell inside the fortress. The moment his feet touched the ground, he rolled but couldn’t get back up and slumped down.
The attacking creature landed on the ground like a cat and leaped towards Dunmel on all fours. Dunmel dodged the descending axe and sprung up from his bow-like bent posture. Then, the Moze threw its axe at him. The axe was nothing more than a blunt chunk of metal tied to the end of a stick, but it was dangerous enough to cause harm wherever it hit due to the strength of the throw.
Dunmel tilted his head to dodge the axe and then pierced the Moze’s throat with an arrow. Being at a close distance, the arrow went through its neck and protruded from the back of its head.
Dunmel reached for the quiver on his back. During the roll, the few remaining arrows had all spilled out. He gave up and retreated to join his allies.
Loyal, covered in dark red blood, was waiting for him.
“I’ve cut down at least fifty, but it looks like another three hundred are coming.”
Dunmel spoke in sign language.
‘The gate will break.’
The sticky blood on his fingers ran down his forearms as he signed. He hadn’t noticed it while frantically shooting arrows, but the blood sticking to his hands splattered on his face each time he released the bowstring.
‘Tell the sorcerors. Ask them to block the first group that enters after the gate breaks.’
Loyal glanced briefly at Master Luder, who held both a staff and a sword.
“But this sorcerer has already used that spell three times. Each time, he shattered the heads of ten of those creatures, but to use that power more…”
Luder interrupted Loyal.
“I can do it. If you ask me to, I must!”
Luder’s staff shone brightly. As the chief sorcerer in charge of the town’s defense, he couldn’t refuse such a task. What he was worried about wasn’t his own body, but the fortress.
“What strategy will we use after I cast the spell? The soldiers are at their limit.”
Half of the soldiers were dead or injured, and the rest were so exhausted they could barely hold their swords. Dunmel, who had already confirmed that the number of Mozes occupying the entrance just before they breached it exceeded two hundred, didn’t mention this fact to Loyal but explained the next steps.
Immediately understanding from the sign language, Loyal agreed.
“Dunmel has a good strategy. There’s no time to explain, just break their initial momentum. The two of us will handle the rest ourselves.”
Luder was about to affirm immediately but hesitated.
“Did you just say ‘the two of us’?”
“There’s no time, Master Luder.”
“Perhaps it would be better to join forces with the teachers from Kainswick who are on their way. They have magic capable of taking down a monster or two…”
Luder trailed off. The hour they were expected to arrive had already passed. They must have encountered the Mozes ravaging the village after breaching the defensive line.
“Master Luder, I’m not good with words, so I don’t know how to persuade in these situations. But wasn’t this why we were called here?”
“Honestly, I was expecting more reinforcements.”
“Then we two will fulfill that expectation.”
The fortress gate bent inwards. Impatient monsters were setting up ladders and climbing over the other walls. Beyond the entrance, the wooden pillars carried by the Mozes collided twice more. Thud! Thud! This created a hole big enough for the monsters to pass through. Like caterpillars emerging from wood, the Mozes squirmed through the hole.
Dunmel took arrows from other archer soldiers and refilled his quiver. Loyal took a short deep breath and said,
“If Kassel were here, he would have spoken more impressively to Luder. If Azwin were here, she would have taught us what formation to fight in, and Gerald and Sheyden are more skilled in this kind of fight than the two of us. It seems the wrong people have come here.”
It sounded almost like he was asking for encouragement. Dunmel, who had fought half the battle with his bow, was exhausted, and so must have been Loyal.
Hesitating, Dunmel then spoke in sign language.
‘It’s hot, isn’t it?’
“Right. This armor is too heavy.”
Loyal picked up his sword, and Dunmel notched an arrow to his bowstring. Mozes who had passed through the door, those who had climbed over the walls, dozens of monsters, all surged towards the two of them.
☆ ☆ ☆
Looking at the dark red blood flowing down the dagger that had pierced the opponent’s heart, Themar thought,
‘Dirty…’
The eyes of the dead were deeply etched with pain, fear, or anger, it was hard to tell. Those eyes troubled Dunmel, like the last attack the dead person was returning to his killer.
“This man was the most brutal and the strongest in this region,” said Karlsten, standing next to Themar. Themar didn’t respond but just watched his master’s lips move.
“This guy killed fifty innocent victims and nearly ten young knights with promising futures died due to his cowardly surprise attacks. What do you think?”
After a while, Themar replied in sign language.
‘I didn’t think he was that strong.’
“That’s not what I asked. I asked whether we have the right to kill such a person.”
‘No one asks that question and commits murder. It wasn’t a just act, nor was it bad. While killing him, I only thought about whether my technique was accurate. Perhaps that’s the cruelest thing.’
“Oh, what an unexpected answer. I decided to kill this guy because I thought he deserved to die, even without a request. But you’re right. Murder is murder. But look. This is what usually happens when you leave someone talented with a sword who isn’t afraid of blood. They come to enjoy the blood.”
‘Sometimes I think the same. If it weren’t for master, I might have ended up like this person.’
“Being able to fight well yet disliking blood can be your talent. I had a nature that liked blood. Why else would I be playing the role of an assassin?”
‘Do you wish me to become like that?’
“No.”
Karlsten approached the head of the murderer Themar had killed and kicked it. It wasn’t a simple kick but one with assassin skills, so the murderer’s neck bone broke, sending his head flying an immeasurable distance.
“This bastard raped more women than the number of people he killed. And those women are somewhere enduring that pain for the rest of their lives. After seeing one of those women commit suicide, I chose this guy as your first real opponent. It might seem childish, but I directed my blood-loving nature this way.”
Karlsten took a short breath and continued speaking.
“As a result, I naturally started seeking out strong opponents. Among them, some were innocent. I always revealed my name to them and asked if they were willing to fight for their lives. The truly strong ones never refused, and I always took only their lives. Yes, I haven’t yet met anyone who could rival me in strength.”
Themar couldn’t forget that conversation. As days turned into months and years passed, growing older, he began to understand his master’s mindset. And through a conversation with the client who requested the assassination of the Queen of Aranthia, he realized his master’s true purpose.
“I cannot accept that offer, no matter the payment. Why would I kill someone akin to a goddess for all living humans?”
Even in the presence of the requester, who exuded an overwhelmingly terrible aura, Karlsten remained unshaken. The man spoke in a grating, metal-tearing voice.
‘Can I hear the voice?’
Startled, Themar covered his ears. It was the first time he experienced the sensation of ‘hearing’. However, it wasn’t exactly ‘hearing’ but rather ‘understanding’.
It was not through a specific language, but the meaning itself was being conveyed.
“The reward is something you’ve desired all your life.”
Themar trembled with fear. Master, please don’t accept this job! He cried inwardly, but Karlsten remained calm.
“Did I ever want such a thing? What is it?”
“The strongest in Acrand.”
Karlsten frowned and stepped back, asking for time to think. Themar, frightened and finding the request absurd, naturally thought Karlsten would refuse. But ultimately, his master accepted the job.
Themar couldn’t comprehend the change in his master’s emotions.
Watching his master fighting Quain, the Queen of Aranthia’s guardian knight, Themar remembered the time he killed a murderer, his hands stained with blood. Every word of the conversation they had back then now emerged from the hidden depths of oblivion.
Quain’s sword pierced Karlsten’s chest and then his abdomen. Even after being stabbed, Karlsten could have moved but chose not to resist. In that moment, when Karlsten’s fastest and most precise technique was blocked by Quain’s sword, Themar knew his master was defeated.
Themar felt as if his mind was burning white, but the vivid memory of blood flowing on the white ground remained clear.
☆ ☆ ☆
Surrounded by the warm, dark red blood that had just been flowing in the bodies of the Mozes, Dunmel and Loyal sat back to back.
Loyal tapped Dunmel’s shoulder. When Dunmel turned, Loyal finally spoke.
“Aren’t you hot?”
Dunmel simply nodded. The first to approach them, unreachable by anyone else, was Dethain.
“The monsters that know no fear have retreated on their own.”
Dethain placed his hands on the bloody and fleshy shoulders of the two. A white light flowed from the shoulder down the entire body. It didn’t heal wounds or fatigue but made breathing much easier.
“Is the village safe?” asked Loyal.
“The teachers and students from Kainswick who followed us managed to drive out the monsters that had entered the village, but several villagers were victimized in the process. We couldn’t evacuate them in time, so the damage was significant.”
“We should evacuate the residents of Downsearch to Nonsearch now,” Loyal suggested.
Luder approached, blood streaming down his forehead.
“There are still many monsters, and the fortress is destroyed. We’re repairing it now, but if they attack like today, it will be meaningless.”
“In the worst-case scenario, we should cross the Kvotz River and then destroy the bridge.”
“The Larvitten Bridge?”
Luder was as shocked as if he had heard someone suggest demolishing the tower of Lutia.
Loyal asked matter-of-factly,
“How effective would it be to destroy the bridge?”
“There’s only one bridge crossing the Kvotz River. The river is wide, and the Mozes that can’t swim won’t be able to cross it. It might buy us some time. But I don’t want to be the one to destroy one of Lutia’s symbolic structures with my own hands. For now, we must defend this boundary at all costs. More importantly, Luder, are you alright from your injury?”
“It’s just a scratch from a weapon. The poison hasn’t spread.”
“Still, you never know. Get it treated. And Master Ettley is dead.”
Dethain spoke briefly, and Luder couldn’t even express surprise.
“It seems he was struck by an axe while swinging his sword until the last moment when he could no longer cast spells.”
“Did you confirm it yourself?”
“I did. But it’s better you don’t see it.”
Dethain placed his hands on Loyal and Dunmel’s shoulders again, and a comforting light enveloped them once more.
“You two are naturally resistant to magic. Normally, with the amount of energy I’ve put in, the wounds would have healed by now, but it’s barely stopping the bleeding…”
Dethain commented.
“I have several scratches from the monsters. I need to receive separate treatment,”
Loyal said.
“I’ll call for a stretcher.”
“If there’s such a thing, use it for the other injured. Just give us those herbs. And the Mozes beyond the forest, probably…”
“I know. It’s a short retreat. They won’t give us a break and will attack again with even greater numbers.”
Dethain spoke casually, but his lips quivered slightly. Dunmel couldn’t tell who was more saddened by Ettley’s death – Luder, who was trying to hide his tears, or Dethain, who was forcibly maintaining his composure to avoid showing any tears at all. And he didn’t want to think about it.
There would be many more such deaths.
“It’s hot.”
Loyal remarked again. The sun was hanging at the top of the sky.
–TL Notes–
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