CHAPTER 90

The Platoon Leader of the 4th Platoon, belonging to the Heavy Infantry Company, was a commander who had recently transferred to this unit from the center.

"Damn it."

Since he was affiliated with the unit, he decided to adapt and conduct actual combat training by going on a mission to exterminate monsters.

Of course, it was quite large in scale for such a task.

The original mission was to exterminate a large pack of humanoid dogs.

Still, it was fine.

The Heavy Infantry didn't get the reputation of being a force that could devour Krona for nothing.

Ultimately, he embarked on the mission, confident in the power of his unit.

Suddenly, a harpy appeared.

It was a troublesome situation.

Why did a harpy suddenly show up?

He called for support.

The Heavy Infantry formed a defensive formation.

In the meantime, a few soldiers supporting the unit died.

While the crossbow bolts flew aimlessly, the reinforcements arrived.

Just two light infantry soldiers.

"Are you kidding me?"

They even recklessly stepped into the harpy's attack zone without fear.

That was suicide.

The commander didn't know Encrid or Rem.

He was still adapting to the atmosphere within the unit, having recently transferred.

Of course, he had heard about the Spell Breaker and the notorious Squad Leader, but he didn't have time to worry about that.

When he saw the two during the extermination operation, he was furious.

"Shit!"

Curses naturally escaped his mouth. Even if there was subtle tension between the Heavy Infantry and the Light Infantry.

Watching his comrades die in front of him was not enjoyable.

Who would want to see heads torn off by a harpy?

The two light infantry soldiers were Encrid and Rem, and the fact that only the two of them appeared was because they didn't wait for the other unit members and joined first.

Thus, the archer unit requested from the main force hadn't even arrived yet.

"Hey, back off...!"

He was in such a hurry that he couldn't finish his sentence. He wanted to tell them to run away or duck their heads.

In this position, they could withstand the harpy's claws and attacks.

Over thick gambesons, chainmail, and a breastplate reinforced with thin iron plates, steel gauntlets, and greaves.

On top of that, they held square shields and formed a defensive formation.

It was a strategic defensive posture befitting the nickname "Turtle Heavy Infantry".

They could hold out until the reinforcements arrived.

Therefore, to the harpy, those who were less protected were easier prey.

The harpy, spotting the new prey, rushed at terrifying speed.

The commander saw the red feather fall and draw a long arc downward.

Even if he wanted to help, he had no means to do so.

Now, he could only quietly watch them die and vow revenge later.

Just as the harpy's claws were about to split the soldier's head.

Clang.

Schwack.

The commander heard the friction of metal and the sound of flesh being cut.

All he saw was the harpy's back.

Since the harpy's body size was similar to an adult male, he couldn't see exactly what the light infantry soldier had done, obscured by the falling harpy.

What he did see was the harpy's wing tearing, its body hitting the ground like a failed skipping stone, bouncing once in the air, then rolling on the ground.

The harpy, which had flaunted its red feathers and bouncing breasts, was now half-covered in blood, with dust covering its entire body.

"Kiiieeeeee!"

The harpy lying on the ground wailed. The commander couldn't even blink.

What is this?

"...Huh?"

In an incomprehensible situation, only a single question remained.

The commander's eyes scanned the situation, soon forcing everything into the realm of understanding.

The harpy flew in.It was cut down with a sword?Is that even possible?

It was an extraordinary feat rarely seen.

What if the harpy's claws had deviated slightly? What if the timing was missed? What if the cutting power was insufficient?

Everything would have been a problem.

The fact that someone would do such a thing was crazy.

Who would dare to do such a thing against a charging harpy?

Even in the Border Guard known as the Slaughterer of the Frontier, how many could pull off something like that?

Screech!

Luck. It was incredibly fortunate. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so, as two more harpies circling above glided down, targeting the two again.

They were fast. It sounded like the harpy's claws were tearing through the air.

The commander's eyes focused on the two light infantry soldiers who had come as reinforcements.

The angle of the harpies' attack was different from before.

The commander clearly saw how the two responded.

Although he saw it, he still had nothing to say, as their movements were beyond his comprehension.

The soldier with the axe dodged the incoming claws by twisting his body, then swung the axe.

He only registered that it had been swung.

Before he knew it, the harpy's head split vertically with a loud crack.

The harpy, whose head was split, plunged to the ground, leaving marks like a burst tomato. It left a long bloodstain as it slid across the ground, with the split-headed harpy lying there.

Another harpy was dead.

It was a visible feat of axe-wielding.

The other soldier did something similar.

The soldier who had initially torn the harpy's wing now held his sword and slashed vertically again.

How is that possible?

As he swung his sword, it seemed like the harpy was rushing towards the blade.

It was a result of predicting the harpy's movements and swinging the sword.

If that wasn't a feat, what else could it be?

Thud!

However, this time, the aim was slightly off, and the harpy's chest was slashed.

The soldier's sword split the harpy in half, but he also lost his grip on the sword.

Not that it made any difference.

Screech.

The sword was embedded between the harpy's two breast-like mounds.

The harpy tumbled to the ground, once again scattering blood.

Its guts were split and shattered.

That one, too, was as good as dead.

The commander involuntarily looked up.

There were eight harpies left.

They hadn't killed a single one, but three had died as soon as these two arrived.

Border Guard?

The commander misunderstood his opponents. Their skills were too overwhelming to be considered mere soldiers.

Was this what elite soldiers were like?

He had heard rumors about the Slaughterer of the Frontier before being transferred, but...

It didn't seem to be to this extent.

In the commander's eyes, he saw a group approaching from behind the two.

They were all carrying projectile weapons, such as throwing spears, longbows, and crossbows.

They wore cloaks and had eagle insignias on their epaulettes.

The real Border Guard.

The guard leading them also assessed the situation. He saw it with his own eyes.

Their skills...

Had improved. To the point where it was hard to confidently say they could be easily defeated.

The one leading the guard was Torres.

He was the platoon leader of the Border Guard, who had various ties with Encrid.

Judging someone's skills solely by their ability to kill monsters was foolish.

However, Torres knew he didn't have the confidence to pull off such feats against an incoming harpy.

Especially not twice in a row.

Luck?

Torres had the same thought as the heavy infantry platoon commander.

At that moment, the third harpy flew in.

Torres's gaze dropped from the harpy to below.

There, he saw Encrid pulling a sword out from the chest of a recently slain harpy.

"Hey!"

Torres shouted. It was a warning to look up.

* * *

What should he call this?

Encrid connected the dots.

He split the time.

He swung his sword as his instincts guided him.

As a result, he cut the wing of the first harpy.

"Whistle."

Next to him, Rem whistled. The lingering sensation in his grip conveyed the harpy's hefty weight.

No problem. He picked up his sword again. The harpy flew in, and this time he slashed the chest and let go of his sword.

If he had kept holding it, his hand might have torn apart.

His judgment was accurate.

A single strike connecting the dots, a powerful sword slash.

The result was the death of the monster.

As Encrid bent over and swung his sword down, the harpy's claws passed over his head.

The sound of it tearing through the air was chilling, but it didn't feel dangerous.

Just dodge it.

A simple attack pattern.

Dodge, slash, stab. It was an application of swordsmanship.

He stepped onto the bouncing chest of the dead harpy, placing his foot where a human's collarbone would be, and pulled out his sword.

"Screech."

Such tenacity. Its chest was half-split, with intestines spilling out, yet it blinked.

It was still alive.

Encrid was looking at the harpy he had slashed, but his senses were focused on the surroundings, particularly the harpy diving from above.

He could feel the air's vibrations without seeing it.

His senses were clearer than ever.

"Hey!"

He heard the shout, but he was already moving before that.

He stabbed the wing of the dying harpy with the tip of his sword and pushed with all his strength.

Crack!

The muscles in both his arms strained, and he exerted force from his waist and thighs.

He lifted the dying harpy upwards.

Whack!

The incoming harpy collided with it and tumbled to the ground.

After blocking the harpy with another harpy, Encrid rolled to the side, using the technique of dispersing the impact by moving his body intentionally and predictably to absorb the remaining shock.

As soon as he got up from the roll, Encrid quickly dashed towards the fallen harpy's head and brought his sword down on it.

The blade split the harpy's head with a sound like splitting firewood.

That makes four.

Rem had killed one, and Encrid had killed three.

The first one that fell already had a quarrel lodged in its head by a nearby soldier.

Flap, flap. The group of harpies that had been flapping their wings above them began to scatter. Harpies were not creatures that engaged in unwinnable fights.

They had fled.

Encrid, with his arms hanging down, swallowed his disappointment.

'A few more times.'

He wanted to keep fighting. He needed more experience. He was still in the process of learning and internalizing what he had been taught.

He needed more actual combat to adapt and learn.

Then, he could fully incorporate what he had gained from the sewers into his body.

"All good?"

Rem chuckled beside him. Being a perceptive barbarian, he seemed to have already grasped Encrid's state.

"Anyone else would say you're crazy, but at this point, you can be called extraordinary. But it's quite strange. I thought you needed more real combat, but how did it happen again in just one day?"

He didn't delve too deeply but expressed his curiosity. It was natural. Achieving such a remarkable improvement in just one day with seemingly the worst talent was not normal.

Encrid uttered his usual excuse.

"I was lucky."

Rem knew one couldn't develop such skills with just luck. But he didn't intend to argue.

After all, what did it matter?

Seeing this guy so excited to wield his sword made it fun for him too.

"There was a time when I barely survived being chased by harpies."

Encrid muttered.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

It wasn't a statement filled with emotion or meaning. It was just something that had happened.

Encrid remembered the comrades who had died then. And he shook off the memory.

'This might not be revenge, but…'

At least there was satisfaction in having killed the harpy swarm. The disappointment still outweighed it, though.

"You two, your affiliation—no, but."

The commander, who had been holding the defensive formation like a turtle, approached. He seemed bewildered.

"Squad Leader Encrid of the 4th Squad, 4th Platoon, 4th Company."

He answered and saluted.

"Squad Leader? Not the Border Guard?"

No.

"The Border Guard is here."

A familiar face, Torres, approached. He raised his hand and spoke.

His gaze never left Encrid. His eyes scanned Encrid from head to toe.

He wanted to ask what exactly Encrid had done. How had his skills improved so much?

"We came to support."

They hadn't even fired a single arrow.

What was this, really?

Soon, the commander of the 4th Platoon of the Heavy Infantry Company and Torres exchanged brief greetings and sorted out the situation.

Encrid listened to their conversation and abruptly asked a question. It was quite important to him.

"Is it over?"

"...What are you asking?"

"I was wondering if the monster extermination is over now."

What? Why is he asking that?

Two light infantry soldiers who killed four harpies. 

Two ordinary soldiers saved the Heavy Infantry Platoon. It wasn't a great achievement, but it seemed worthy of reward.

One of them was seriously asking if this was the end.

The other one, who looked like a foreigner, was busy laughing next to him.

What is this crazy duo?

The platoon leader thought and answered.

"The original target was the humanoid dog pack, so it's not over."

The platoon leader hadn't forgotten the mission. A pack of humanoid dogs had formed a group around the Border Guard, blocking the merchants and peddlers.

That's why they set out.

Even though the humanoid dog pack hadn't appeared on the road outside the wall where the merchants traveled.

Judging by the appearance of one or two around, it was evident that a problem would arise soon.

The mission was to exterminate the surrounding monsters and beasts to ensure the city's safety.

"I want to join."

At Encrid's words, the platoon leader thought.

'Does he want to fight more? He seems eager to fight. Am I seeing things?'

He wasn't seeing things. He was exactly right.

What the platoon leader saw was the truth.

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