Chapter 37: Like a Tidal Wave (2)
Rain poured over the battlefield where the forces of Daphne and Calpion stood facing each other.
In a situation where no one dared to step forward, the first to take a stride were the two hulking brothers.
“What’s this, are you scared?”
“They’re scared for sure, these idiots.”
The Twin Mace Knights slowly walked ahead.
They looked as relaxed as if they were out for a stroll.
“Khh!”
The Daphne Knights clenched their teeth, their faces twisted with a mix of resentment and tension as they retreated backward.
The more they stepped back, the faster the twins advanced.
And then…
“Hup.”
Clang!
“Aaaaargh!”
The moment one of them swung his mace, a Daphne knight’s sword was smashed to pieces, and his body flew a great distance before crashing into the mud.
He looked pathetically powerless, almost absurdly so.
While everyone’s eyes wavered, the twins let out a long snort.
“How boring.”
“They call that a knight?”
Then, turning their heads back, the twins spoke.
“Here… it feels like the two of us alone will be enough.”
“Commander, take a rest. We’ll sweep them away.”
Standing behind them, Commander Andrea crossed his arms and nodded.
“I’ll give you ten minutes. Make it quick.”
“Yeees, that’s more than enough.”
“Ten whole minutes? What a waste.”
The twins’ eyes gleamed again as they strode forward.
The Daphne knights staggered back in fear.
‘Monsters.’
‘Damn it. How are we supposed to…?’
After witnessing that blow just moments ago, none of them could even imagine charging in.
At that moment, Viscount Cobalt shouted.
“Mulgybson!”
“Yes!”
Viscount Cobalt and Mulgybson were the only two who stepped forward to block the twins.
Two maces swung toward them at the same time, and two swords met them simultaneously.
Clang!
At the moment of impact, Cobalt and Mulgybson’s bodies were shoved backward.
‘Strong.’
‘…Damn it.’
Their brows furrowed on their own.
They managed to block it somehow, but their hands gripping their swords tingled with numbness, and the taste of blood rose up inside them.
Then the twins spoke.
“Oh, you blocked that too?”
“You’re actually useful.”
The problem was, this wasn’t the only crisis.
“Encircle them!”
“Everyone, surround them!”
While the knights’ feet were held in place, hundreds of Calpion troops closed in tightly from all sides.
No matter which way they turned their heads, all they could see were Calpion soldiers.
‘Damn it….’
‘We’re completely trapped.’
There wasn’t even a gap left for the Daphne forces to escape.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Hahaha! This is fun!”
“Yes, it’s entertaining!”
Clang! Clang!
Each time the twins swung their maces, Cobalt and Mulgybson were pushed back again.
“Aaaargh!”
From time to time, the Daphne knights desperately tried to exploit an opening and charge in.
“Don’t get in the way.”
“Piss off.”
Crunch!
Their swords were shattered entirely, and their bodies were hurled backward.
“Haaah… haaah…”
Viscount Cobalt lifted his head and glanced around for a moment.
His vision was tinged red from the blood that had seeped into his eyes.
In the midst of the downpour, in the heart of the battlefield…
“Aaaaargh!”
“You bastards!”
The Daphne forces swung their swords.
They screamed, covered in blood.
Struck, pierced, and knocked down by the enemy’s blades, arrows, and maces.
The knights tried to fight back however they could, but it was obvious that both their mana and stamina were rapidly dwindling.
In the midst of it all…
“You’re too weak.”
“I told you, weaklings need to disappear.”
The Twin Mace Knights rampaged like children stomping ants, delighted beyond measure.
His blood ran cold.
‘Damn iiiit!’
And even worse…
He could see the conscripts’ bodies turning to pulp and flying through the air from their blows.
As this nightmare continued…
“R-run awaaaaay!”
“Hiiiik! P-please, spare me!”
The conscripts turned and began running away.
Some others dropped their weapons, bowing their heads in surrender.
But most of them met the same end regardless.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Kill theeem!”
Arrows fired by Calpion pierced their bodies, swords and spears ran them through, and they died miserably.
It was a worthless death without any dignity.
A wretched death brought by the Lord’s incompetence—and by my own inadequacy.
Viscount Cobalt’s body trembled as he shouted once more.
“Haaah… haaah… Fight to the end… to the very end!”
His voice was hoarse and exhausted. His vision blurred. His mana was all but drained, and every muscle in his body screamed in agony.
‘Please… Please.’
God Faeron, have mercy upon us… show us your grace…
Despair crept across Cobalt’s face.
It was too overcast a day even to call upon the name of the Sun God.
---
At that moment, the walls of Daphne Castle had become a house of mourning.
“The Lord has been surrounded!”
“T-the Knight Order has been isolated, Third Young Master!”
“…”
The retainers kept shouting, their faces drained of blood. Malion only bit his lip and stared fixedly out at the battlefield.
‘What… what are we supposed to do?’
Had they made the wrong choice?
No. Even if they had chosen to hole up and defend, defeat would have been inevitable.
That was why they had opted for a decisive battle—and yet, the result was this horrifying spectacle?
Then… did that mean no matter what they did, this was all they could expect?
‘There was never any chance of victory.’
A sense of helplessness and futility dug into Malion’s very bones.
Why was Calpion going this far?
What crime had they committed that deserved this? What did Calpion have to take from them?
‘If only it weren’t for my brother.’
If Hardin hadn’t humiliated Great Young Master Donfel like that.
If he hadn’t done that back then, perhaps things wouldn’t have come to this.
He knew it was absurd to think this way, but he couldn’t help it.
If it had simply ended with them losing their land, at least they might have been able to keep their lives.
If he didn’t let himself think such pointless thoughts, he felt he would go mad.
So he repeated them over and over.
“What should we do?! Please give the order, Third Young Master!”
“Third Young Masteeer!”
“Just… just wait a moment. Let me… think.”
Malion’s hands trembled as he adjusted his glasses.
The screams of the knights and the wails of the conscripts drilled into his ears and rattled his mind.
Beeeep.
With a shrill ringing in his head, his vision split into fragments, then rejoined, over and over.
‘What am I supposed to do…?’
And then—
“Damn it!”
Malion ground his teeth and began descending the castle stairs.
At that moment—
Thud!
Hardin, who had been standing in the middle of the stairs, grabbed Malion’s shoulder and spoke.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I must go to Viscount Ruder! I have to meet him, to beg, to plead! No matter what it takes, I have to stop this war! If this continues…”
Malion’s voice, which had poured out in desperation, gradually grew weak.
Because he already knew.
Even if he went himself now, nothing would change.
But…
“I can’t… I can’t just stand here…”
Then Hardin shook his head firmly and said.
“Does this look like a situation where words will work? You’ll die if you go.”
He made a slicing gesture across his neck with one hand, his voice unyielding.
Tap!
Malion slapped Hardin’s hand away and shouted back.
“Whether I die or not, I have to try! Either way, if this goes on, it’s over for all of us!”
“Fuuuuu…”
Hardin let out a long sigh, then his eyes grew cold as he spoke.
“One madman in this family is enough.”
“What are you talking about!”
“Father’s orders, remember. To stay here and hold this position.”
“…Brother!”
Hardin let out a sly grin and continued speaking.
“I’m going alone.”
“What nonsense is that? Brother, what do you think you can possibly do in this situation!”
“Better me than you.”
“Step aside! If you keep getting in my way, I’ll cut you down even if you’re my brother!”
Malion glared at him as if he would kill him, drawing his sword. Hardin raised both hands in a show of surrender and stepped back.
Tatata!
With a hardened face, Malion brushed past Hardin and started running down the stairs.
‘Damn, being an older brother really isn’t easy.’
Hardin closed his eyes tightly and drew in a long breath.
Sharpening his consciousness to its utmost edge, he focused on the mana core deep inside his lower abdomen.
Then, he delved inward, deeper still, dragging up the mana resting at the very bottom.
As if stirring muddy water in a still pond.
Wuuuuuuuum!
The rotation of the core accelerated, mana surging violently through him.
Heat bloomed in his belly, the energy spreading through his body with a sensation like insects crawling across his skin.
Hardin clenched his teeth, spinning the core even faster, even more forcefully.
To the point where he felt as if the inner walls of the core were melting.
…
When Hardin slowly opened his eyes, a fierce, blue light glimmered within them.
Maelstrom.
A technique that didn’t merely draw out every last drop of mana within, but scraped away even the container itself—the mana circuit (now the core)—to convert it all into raw power.
Among all the knights who had ever learned Wave Swordsmanship, only Varlach had ever managed to manifest it.
Because… everyone else who attempted it had died.
It was that dangerous, but its reward was undeniable.
Wuuuuuum!
His whole body filled to the brim with surging strength.
“Fuuuuu…”
When Hardin stomped his foot, a gust of wind burst out, scattering everyone’s hair around him.
All the eyes gathered atop the ramparts turned toward Hardin.
Malion, who was looking up from the foot of the stairs, frowned.
‘What is this?’
An overwhelming pressure emanated from Hardin.
His whole body tingled, sweat beading on his forehead.
At that moment, Hardin’s lips curled into a smirk.
“I’ll be back. So you just stay here and guard the house.”
Hardin climbed up onto the rampart in a single stride.
Then—
He leapt.
“B-brother?!”
“Young Master!”
Malion, startled, rushed back up the stairs. The retainers leaned their heads over the battlements in a panic.
There they saw Hardin already landing smoothly and sprinting forward across the ground.
“….”
What in the world was happening?
A troubled expression spread across Malion’s face.
---
Neigh!
Hardin pulled his horse’s reins tight as he charged through the torrential rain.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Daaamn iiiit!”
Shwaaaaaa!
Blood-soaked knights, fleeing conscripts, arrows whistling through the air, and sheets of pounding rain.
He cut through all of it without stopping.
Just then, a Calpion conscript came lunging in from the side.
“Uaaaaargh!”
Crunch!
With a casual flick of his sword, Hardin sent the man’s head flying, a fountain of blood spraying into the storm.
Thunk!
The severed head hit the ground, its eyes going dull in an instant.
Neigh!
At the sound of a shrill cry to his other side, he turned his head to see several riderless horses galloping past him in the opposite direction.
Horses bearing blue saddles.
Those were the horses the Daphne knights had been riding.
‘That’s the way.’
Hardin let out a long sigh.
Taat!
He immediately stretched out an arm, seized the horse’s flank, and vaulted onto its back, turning its head forward.
Taaat!
He dug in his heels, urging it to greater speed.
The Daphne knights would be over there.
Trapped, surrounded by the enemy.
Yet there was no impatience, no anxiety in him.
Everything was unfolding exactly as it should. He never once doubted this defeat.
Hardin tightened his grip on the reins.
“Hyahahaha! Die, you bastards!”
“P-please spare me!”
As he galloped toward the front line where the Daphne knights were fighting, he saw conscripts impaled on the spears and swords of the Calpion troops.
Grit.
Blue light flared from Hardin’s eyes as he clenched his teeth.
His gaze fixed on a long spear embedded in a corpse.
Taat!
Without breaking stride, Hardin stretched out a hand and yanked it free in a single motion.
Adjusting his grip, he charged straight toward the nearest enemy.
With a light swing from left to right—
Chwaaaak!
“Kuhak!”
The falling raindrops were sliced clean in half, and in between them, blood droplets mingled.
Heads of Calpion soldiers flew into the air behind them.
The cut surfaces of their necks were smooth, as if he’d sliced radishes.
“…?!”
Their faces still bore blank looks, not understanding why their heads had flown off or what had just happened.
Thunk!
As they hit the ground, their soulless bodies collapsed into the mud.
“Out of my way, you bastards!”
Hardin and his mount pressed deeper into the enemy lines.
Crunch!
Wearing a twisted grin, he thrust the spear left and right in quick succession.
Rain was cleaved apart.
Blood sprayed, turning the downpour crimson.
“Urgh!”
“What the?!”
The lives of Calpion soldiers scattered without even time for a scream.
Like ants being stomped underfoot.
Like a hornet storming into a beehive.
Everywhere Hardin advanced, fountains of blood erupted one after another, forming a long trail of Calpion corpses in his wake.
“I—isn’t that the Young Master?”
“What the hell…?”
The Daphne conscripts he’d saved stared blankly at the scene.
The solid ring of Calpion’s encirclement began to erode, chewed away by the single point of Hardin’s onslaught.
And then—
Ahead, in Hardin’s line of sight—
“Wahaha! Ahahaha!”
Clang! Clang!
A hulking Calpion knight, built like a troll, was swinging his massive axe, driving his opponent back.
That opponent—
A man with caterpillar-like eyebrows. Manton.
The training instructor of Daphne.
During the charge, his horse had been pierced by an enemy arrow and collapsed, leaving him separated from the vanguard and stranded in the rear.
His body was covered in wounds, his breath ragged, clinging to life by a thread.
‘Damn it… My mana… it’s almost gone.’
Tang! Tang!
He desperately thrust his shield forward, trying to counterattack.
Buuuuum!
But each time, he fell short, his sword cutting nothing but empty air.
“Ahaha! Come on, fight properly, you idiot!”
After fighting alone, isolated, his entire body was shredded and every bit of strength exhausted.
There was no way his sword could strike true anymore.
And besides…
“Help the knight!”
“Stab him!”
All around them, the Calpion conscripts pressed in, tightening the encirclement.
There was no way to flee, no way to break through the front.
“Hehehe! Hyahahaha! Die!”
The troll-like knight closed the distance, swinging his massive axe in both hands.
Step by step—death drew closer.
‘…Is this the end?’
Manton’s pupils trembled as he thought that.
Crunch!
“…?”
In an instant, the heads of the Calpion conscripts surrounding them separated from their bodies, red sprays of blood bursting into the rain.
Manton’s eyes went wide.
And from between the falling corpses, a familiar face emerged.
‘That’s… the Young Master?’
Hardin Daphne.
His entire body—his horse as well—was drenched in blood.
Wearing a chilling smile, he spoke.
“Move.”
Move? Was he… talking to me?
At that moment, Manton’s instincts took over.
He threw himself aside to avoid the oncoming horse.
Hardin’s mount brushed past him, charging straight at the troll knight on the other side.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?!”
The enemy raised his mace confidently to strike—
Clang!
Hardin’s thrusting spear lightly smacked the mace aside, sparks flying.
“Huh?”
As the troll knight staggered in surprise—
Baaang!
The horse’s head rammed straight into his chest, sending his massive body hurtling backward a great distance.
Neigh! Neigh…
For a moment, the horse came to a halt.
Hardin turned his head to look back at Manton, their gazes locking.
‘What in the world…’
Manton blinked, dazed.
It felt—though surely it was just his imagination—as if blood-red smoke was seeping off Hardin’s entire body.
“Get a hold of yourself.”
A curt voice came from Hardin’s mouth.
As the two of them stared at each other—
‘W-what is going on?’
Why was the Young Master here?
What was that just now?
While he stood blinking again and again, Hardin spoke once more.
“I said get a hold of yourself. What’s wrong with you?”
“Ah… y-yes!”
Manton quickly braced himself, and Hardin let out a long sigh.
“From here on, I’m going to break all the way through.”
“…What does that mean?”
“What else could it mean?”
“Excuse me?”
“Rally any troops you can on the way and follow me.”
Manton looked as if he still didn’t understand a word. He opened his mouth to ask again—
Taat!
Neigh!
Without any further explanation, Hardin and his horse charged forward.
The instant he collided with the Calpion troops again—
Crunch!
His spear swung with brutal force.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Spare meee!”
With wretched screams, fountains of blood shot up.
“Haaah…”
Was that really Young Master Hardin?
Manton’s expression filled with shock and disbelief.