Chapter 284 - If you lack experience, build it up, and if you have weaknesses, eliminate them.

Several small-scale battles subtly changed the atmosphere of the battlefield.

'Are they going to fight or not?'

The Black Blade and the cultist's army wanted to ask this.

They had expected a fierce battle, but it deflated quickly. This had happened a dozen times before.

Still, charging in first wasn't an option.

"The Lord of the Demon Realm has told us not to trust these bandits."

It seemed like the Black Blade was going to stir things up from behind. Viscount Tarning wasn't any different.

"Don't rush in first. Hold steady."

"Are we charging again today? Aren't they tired of this by now?"

At Raikanos' words, Tarning stuffed a piece of jerky between two slices of bread.

He never stopped eating.

There was no longer the same tension as before.

The Border Guard's standing army had been doing strange things, and so, the tension had naturally eased.

Of course, Lykanos was different.

'What's going on?'

He couldn't say exactly, but his instincts honed over years of battle told him something wasn't right.

The opponent's tricks weren't ordinary.

It felt ominous. Very ominous.

Nearby, Viscount Pig was muttering something.

He seemed to be talking nonsense about charging in and eliminating the enemy, claiming they had superior numbers.

"Shut up."

Lykanos wasn't one to ignore his instincts.

Viscount Pig squawked something in response, but Lykanos ignored it.

"Take up defensive positions."

Lykanos had to stick to the same strategy.

There was no choice. Neither the cultists nor the people of Aspen could be trusted.

Would they be betrayed?

'The Black Sword's name will scream out.'

He was part of a band that would one day become the greatest thief guild on the continent.

There was no way they would get caught up in something so obvious.

Soon, the clouds parted, and on a bright winter day, a new day of battle broke.

"The pain of killing me lies ahead!"

"Kill the pain!"

Bell thought the chant was getting more and more strange, but for some reason, he couldn't help but contribute to the weirdness.

"Pain that kills!"

It was becoming more bizarre, but it wasn't just the chant that had changed.

The soldiers' movements had changed too.

There was no longer any need for the mix of insults and orders that had been part of their previous routines.

It was only natural.

These were already trained soldiers. Soldiers who had been tormented and beaten by the crazy squad leader.

Those who hadn't even received training weren't even included in the unit.

This was also Krais' idea.

'We're already short on manpower.'

Bell thought it was just nonsense. He wanted to argue that the battlefield wasn't like that.

Of course, in the end, he didn't say a word.

"Do it."

Enkrid stood behind him, and Graham had given his approval.

"The point is this. If you lack experience, build it up, and if you have weaknesses, eliminate them. That's what we're doing here."

If untrained soldiers are mixed in, the overall strength of the unit weakens.

They would focus only on those who were well-trained and strike them with the hammer of real combat, like steel being tempered.

This was the theory that Krais had brought to reality, and it was these soldiers like Bell who embodied it.

Soldiers, and more soldiers, those who had survived hellish training and been forged in the hammer of real battle.

"The flower of the battlefield is!"

"Infantry!"

"The flower of pain is!"

"The hellish joy!"

Corrupted chants, heat, cheers, and something boiling inside their chests burned at their hearts.

"Kill them all!"

Bell shouted.

In the previous battle, they had been told to take one step; in this battle, it seemed they were being told to take two.

This time, they were charging in first, a bold move after a long while.

Bell was at the front.

He could see the eyes of the Black Blade mercenaries coming closer. Through the tightly pulled-down iron helmet, the killing intent in their eyes shot through at him.

The mercenary swung his large sword overhead.

With all his weight and power behind it, the strike came down toward Bell's head. He didn't react.

If it hit, he'd be dead.

Instead of blocking, Bell slammed his left foot into the ground, twisted his waist, and put strength into his arms.

His muscles swelled with a crack.

He concentrated, adding more force. He thrust forward with his spear.

It was a thrust he'd crafted over the past few days, a strike that twisted his whole body into the attack.

Was the mercenary crazy? The mercenary seemed confused but continued to swing the sword down.

Was he trying to die together?

The mercenary figured he could just cut Bell down and avoid the thrust.

But the sword couldn't complete its task.

Two soldiers had moved to Bell's side and covered his head with thick round shields.

Thud!

The blade struck the shield.

Then, an attack that no gambeson, leather, or chainmail armor could block crashed into the mercenary's torso.

Thunk!

The well-sharpened spear pierced through the gambeson and leather, creating a hole in the mercenary's belly.

The spearhead stuck out of his midsection like a decoration.

"Sh... Shit, you crazy bastard!"

The mercenary cursed, spewing blood from his mouth, grabbing the spear that had pierced him and staggering back before falling.

Ka-ka-kak, the spear's head scraped against the ground as the mercenary's body tilted and collapsed.

He died sitting at an angle.

"This is strategy. You dumb monkey bastard."

Bell spoke as he put down his spear.

He hesitated to pull it out further, so he backed away and picked up a new spear.

The three of them made a team.

One would pierce the enemy's body, and the other two would block and hold their ground.

"A spear soldier with two soldiers who can handle shields makes up one unit."

It was a makeshift tactical unit.

Even though it was hastily assembled, there was no reason it couldn't perform. The majority of the training they had undergone, which had made their bodies tough like golems, was aimed at improving individual physical capabilities.

It wasn't a complex strategy.

After several days of adaptation, the first large-scale battle between the Border Guard's regular army and Viscount Tarnin's forces certainly pushed the enemy back.

"Slash them! Hit with the shield! Smash them with the mace!"

"Archers! Are you just going to watch?"

It was a straightforward infantry vs. infantry fight. The enemy had sent archers first.

"Dammit, kill them."

And that's when Vengeance's archers moved.

A squad of fast, sharp-eyed men quickly nocked arrows and loosed a volley, their arrows filled with fury.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

There were fifty longbows.

The rain of arrows poured into the enemy's flank.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

Bell shouted as they fought. The Border Guard quickly retreated.

Anyone watching would have been impressed.

The two sides didn't have much of a difference in number.

The Border Guard had just over a thousand men.

Viscount Tarnin's forces had swelled to over two thousand five hundred.

Reinforcements were pushing forward from somewhere.

Of course, not every soldier had engaged in the fight.

Both sides had deployed only a sufficient number of troops.

The Border Guard sent about two hundred fifty soldiers, while Tarnin's forces threw nearly four hundred into the fray.

There was a numerical difference, and Tarnin's army had many well-known mercenaries.

The poison masters in the back, wielding swords with deadly precision, fought with a deadly resolve.

Even so, the outcome was clear.

"A trained army beats individuals."

Kraiz muttered from the hilltop.

Finn, who was assigned to his guard detail, responded.

"What nonsense are you spouting?"

She didn't understand what he was getting at.

"It's just how it is."

"I'd rather be assigned to the commander than be stuck guarding."

Finn grumbled.

Meanwhile, Enkrid was also handling things as expected.

"This way."

Jaxen said, walking with heavy steps, and Enkrid opened his mouth.

"Ragna?"

"Why do you call me?"

It was good to see him. With Ragna around, everything was in place.

Enkrid noticed Teresa, whose face was covered by a helmet.

Is she alright?

He had told her she could retreat, but she refused.

"I'm just wandering Teresa, following the path my sword and shield must take."

Jaxen led the way, with the madmen's squad not bothering to hide as they moved.

There was no need to.

With a large-scale battle unfolding, all eyes were on them.

Thus, they encountered and killed all the scouts they met.

Without eyes to see, there was no tongue to tell.

While the Black Sword and the regular army clashed fiercely, Enkrid's squad reached the stronghold of the heretic forces.

"I thought you'd be tired of this."

Rem spoke, his eyes gleaming. It was as though he had contracted a disease that made him twitch whenever he didn't kill someone every few days.

"Let's go."

Enkrid spoke, advancing toward a makeshift barricade.

As they approached, a low growl echoed. A stench hit their nostrils.

Their eyes turned in the direction of the sound. Yellow eyes appeared.

It was a wolf beast, with four legs planted firmly on the ground, showing its fangs.

Grrr!

Without hesitation, the beast lunged forward, a streak of motion, its fangs bared.

It appeared from the left, near where Dunbakel was positioned.

As the wolf's claws hit the ground, there was a loud clang, the sound of metal scraping.

The wolf met a silver line in the air.

It was Dunbakel's skill.

Her scimitar, drawn from her waist, slashed through the air in an arc.

The silver blade cut the wolf from its right shoulder to its left leg.

With a burst of blood and entrails splattering on the ground, the wolf's body twitched and fell apart.

Blood sprayed everywhere.

"Finish it cleanly."

Rem said, watching the scene. Dunbakel shook her scimitar, blood dripping onto the ground.

"This should be clean enough."

"Clearly, you don't understand."

Rem snickered.

Grrr!

Before Rem's words could end, yellow eyes multiplied from all directions.

It was not midnight, but broad daylight when the scouts were wiped out and a swarm of enemies stormed in.

The stench was overwhelming, and it made their nostrils burn. Even the smell of dung from all around was enough to make their noses ache.

The cult's army had not read the movements of the Madmen unit.

It was, in fact, something no one expected—a dagger struck at a time when no one thought, "Would they really come here?"

Thus, the wolf beast pack that surged here was not predicted.

It was simply the wolf beasts guarding the stockade.

The cult's formation was situated between rolling hills, and the surrounding terrain was uneven.

It was a small hilly area with many places to hide.

Through this, the wolf pack began to appear. Yellow-eyed heads popped up, and beasts tainted by demons bared their fangs from all directions.

Grrr!

Rem held two axes horizontally with the ground.

"Look, this is neat."

Then he kicked the ground and leaped.

There was no time to say anything. It was a charge half a beat faster than the wolf beasts' reaction.

In an instant, he closed the distance and suddenly appeared right in front of the closest beast.

He rushed in and struck. His axe-wielding arm bent, and with a thud, the wolf's head soared into the air. Afterward, several more heads floated in the air one by one.

Rem acted as he always did.

In other words, he hacked, slashed, and chopped at whatever came in his way.

"How is that neat?"

Dunbakel commented upon seeing this. Enkrid agreed with her.

It wasn't neat at all. But it was destructive.

"That's quite a sight, Brother."

Audin muttered. It was exactly as he said.

The wolf beasts, loyal to their scouting mission, were relentlessly slaughtered.

Enkrid, then, adjusted his sword belt while watching the cultists appear beyond the stockade.

A small preparation, for any opponent, any battle—it's the best preparation.

He tightened his sword belt.

"An ambush!"

He prepared to draw his sword, looking at the shouting enemy soldier.

It was a posture that clearly suggested he'd immediately draw his sword and charge.

Some of the enemy soldiers, upon seeing this, raised their crossbows.

"The lord of the demon realm watches over us!"

With a fanatic's cry, the cultists loaded their crossbows and aimed.

Enkrid, in a pose as if about to draw his sword, suddenly spread his hands to the sides.

It looked like an odd move, but the result was far from it.

Piiiing!

The sound of a whistle tore through the air, and the throats of four crossbow-wielding soldiers were torn open.

It was the whistle dagger.

"Crack!"

One soldier clutched his neck and fell. The newly torn throat, large enough to be visible from the outside, spilled blood instead of air.

All four of the cultist crossbowmen had their heads hit the ground.

"Quite the deception,"

Jaxen muttered from behind.

It was unclear whether he was impressed or mocking.

Enkrid paid no attention.

Pretending to draw his sword, he launched the whistle dagger. It was a brilliant tactic.

The repositioning of his sword belt and the setup were all for this single move.

The posture itself was part of the preparation. Deceiving the opponent was also part of the preparation.

Aooowooooo!

A chilling wolf's howl echoed from inside the cult's camp.

It was a howl infused with magic that caused the body to stiffen in an instant.

"Let's keep that damn dog from barking."

Rem, covered in the black blood of beasts, spoke.

He grinned, showing teeth that looked oddly white, and the combination of the axe, blood, and his grin made him look like a symbol of fear.

No one here was stiffened by such a howl.

Even Dunbakel just grumbled.

"Chopping heads doesn't make it clean."

"My, my, my god of the demon realm!"

One of the fanatics trembled upon seeing this.

"Eh? What? I can't hear the words of idiots who worship a shitty god."

Rem spoke, cupping his hand near his ear while holding his axe.

Then he started going wild, even more so than before.

From the enemy's point of view, it seemed like he was going insane.

Enkrid and his party did their part.

Jaxen set fire to the barracks and supplies, while Ragna cut down enemies charging behind Enkrid.

Teresa and Dunbakel also ran left and right, breaking heads, human or beast, indiscriminately.

There was no need to cause a commotion for a long time.

Once Enkrid saw the rising black smoke, he signaled.

He threw his whistle dagger into the sky.

Piiiiiing!

The long, echoing whistle caused the entire unit to fall back. The purpose was to strike quickly and retreat.

When a commander increases his guards to protect himself, they set fire to the supplies and flee.

A simple but effective strategy.

"Rem!"

Enkrid called as he withdrew.

"Go on ahead!"

Rem didn't follow, so Enkrid called again, and the answer came back.

Was it because he was too excited?

That was half the reason, and the other half was the need to block the rear.

Before they knew it, four other wolves, twice the size, were charging at them.

Someone needed to either cut them all down or block and retreat.

"I hope they die here."

Jaxen said, unfeeling.

"Otherwise, I'll be the one to stay and end them."

Ragna said something unacceptable.

If he stayed behind, it would be hard to come back before the winter ended.

Enkrid wasn't worried about Rem.

Of all people, it was Rem.

Getting himself out of a situation was nothing.

"I'll go first."

Enkrid said.

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TL here! Thank you for reading!

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