Chapter 719 - Just Two Swordsmen
Enkrid had been controlling and restraining his Will up until now, saving it, but it had taken a toll on his mind.
His head felt as though it had been filled with impurities.
Rather than using the overflowing Will freely, controlling it through restraint consumed much more mental energy.
After all, moving a heavy stone requires more force.
This was how Enkrid found himself in this situation.
Both his mind and body were filled with impurities.
He fought while soaked in rain, forcibly controlling his Will.
Naturally, he wasn't in the best condition.
But it didn't matter; it wasn't a problem.
"Kyaaaak!"
A few monsters blocked the path, so Enkrid swung his penna and split their skulls open.
Beside him, Ragna also swung his greatsword without hesitation.
The sword, light despite its large size, pierced through the body of an Owlbear with precision.
It was a delicate thrust.
'That kid always surprises me,' Enkrid thought.
To Enkrid, Ragna fought using instinct and intuition.
But these instincts and intuition worked in his favor, producing the right results.
'He's a natural talent.'
Just moments ago, the Owlbear had been aware of Ragna's deadly strike.
It was clear from observing its movements.
Unlike Enkrid, who relied on his skills, Ragna's strength lay in his combat instincts.
'There are exceptional individuals among both humans and monsters.'
The Owlbear didn't conceal its presence; instead, it revealed itself, preparing to counter Ragna's strike.
In a situation where there wasn't much time to think, people often relied on their habitual movements in a split second.
Ragna, however, didn't hesitate, thrusting his sword just as planned.
The Owlbear, having anticipated a slash, found itself trapped by Ragna's precise thrust.
Its battle instincts were pushed into a corner.
Normally, it would have slashed Ragna with its claws, even if it lost its body.
Maybe it hoped to land a scratch on his eye if it got lucky.
Instead, the Owlbear was stabbed by Ragna's sword, its arm stretched out dramatically.
If Ragna had slashed instead of thrusting, those outstretched claws would have likely struck him.
"Well, I suppose even if that happened, it wouldn't have been a problem."
The current course was undoubtedly better, as the results showed.
The Owlbear, stabbed in the body, was pushed back and fell, its abdomen torn open, and its head crushed under Ragna's next strike.
"Why did you thrust?"
"I thrust because I wanted to."
The answer that came out of Ragna's mouth was absurd.
"Of course, Hescal was bound to lose," Enkrid thought.
Hescal made a name for himself as a swordsman who focused on deception, but that was far from the truth.
Watching him made Enkrid repeatedly marvel at the fact.
Hescal's true strength lay in his swordsmanship, in his ability to outmaneuver opponents with his personal tactics.
'Hescal, with his vast experience and clever mind, wove layers of deception and used them as tools in combat.'
It was a double deception.
Even his supposed trickster sword was a strategic weapon.
When an opponent got caught in his tactical web, they would struggle like a butterfly trapped in a spider's web, ultimately dying.
But what if the opponent was Ragna?
Ragna pushed his enemies to a dead end, and only after that did he bring out his greatsword.
His sword style reflected this principle.
In hindsight, the Wave-blocking technique originated from Ragna's swordsmanship, even though the processes were different.
Ragna didn't calculate his moves; he relied on his innate talent.
He knew where his sword needed to go, like finding a path he had never walked before.
It was like a genius who understood instinctively where to step.
"Monster," Enkrid muttered.
Despite the compliment, he didn't stop moving.
Ragna, with his head slightly bowed, knew that avoiding Medusa's gaze was the priority, as long as he didn't waste his Will.
But hearing Enkrid's words, Ragna raised his head.
Ragna couldn't ignore the words.
Wasting Will aside, he couldn't tolerate hearing such a thing.
"I'll return what you just said. Hearing that I'm like Rem is as unpleasant as it gets, Captain."
The lazy words were clearly spoken, but then Ragna lowered his head again.
"Are you picking a fight?"
"I'm serious."
Enkrid let out a small chuckle and lowered his head while maintaining his awareness of the surroundings.
Some guy—probably from a hunter's village or something—tried shooting a couple of arrows at him along the way, but then immediately bolted.
Enkrid casually caught the arrows midair.
They weren't particularly powerful.
If they had been fired by transferring Will into them, it would have been different, but ordinary arrows posed no threat to Enkrid now.
When Leona Rockfreed first came to the city, Enkrid had to exert pinpoint focus to dodge incoming throwing knives, but now, he could catch arrows in a state of complete calm.
His dynamic vision, athleticism, strength, and reflexes were all on an entirely different level now.
Step by step, he closed the distance toward the Medusa.
The closer he got, the more he could feel the oppressive pressure weighing down on his body.
The Demon Realm teemed with countless monsters.
Among them, the ones so terrifying they were granted names—like the Beelrog, like the Medusa—were few.
Ssssssssssssssh!
Overhead, the curse-serpent released a piercing cry identical to the one Scaler had made.
'This isn't good.'
They had fought well so far, but if time dragged on like this, Yohan would inevitably lose.
The reason was simple:
No matter how skillfully they fought, if the remaining monsters charged toward Yohan's base, they couldn't possibly stop them all.
'Even if the master and those here survive, if the rest of Yohan's members die, can it still be called Yohan?'
If a kingdom had no citizens, could it still be called a country?
Of course not.
That's why anything that could affect the battlefield at large had to be eliminated.
It wasn't just tactical instinct—anyone with a grasp of the situation would reach the same conclusion.
Enkrid roughly gauged the distance to the Medusa and recalled the demon he had cut down before.
'The One-Killer could end enemies with a mere graze...'
But the Medusa's way of fighting was entirely different.
Even as two swordsmen approached, the monster, worthy of being named within the Demon Realm, only scattered curses of petrification.
'A battle that demands stamina.'
That's the form it would take.
The scales covering her body looked hard even at a glance, and her cracked, dark green lips seemed ready to spew venom.
She also had a tail hidden behind her, moving as if to mask her presence.
'A sustaining-type monster.'
One could even call her the natural enemy of knights.
Her sheer presence crushed the battlefield, and it was impossible to gauge the extent of her stamina.
If you tried to settle things quickly, you could end up being the one devoured.
A knight, specialized in short, decisive battles, would find her an especially bad match.
Of course, Enkrid had other ways of fighting.
Thus, he didn't mind matching Medusa's war of attrition.
'Given time, victory is assured.'
If he steadily slashed and wore her down, he would likely win after two or three grueling days.
Even if parts of her body, including her snake hair, regenerated after being cut, there had to be limits.
He just had to endure the occasional petrification curse and dodge her tail and claws.
When an opening presented itself, he would slash, stab, and gnaw away at her until death.
He could already see the outcome even without fighting.
Insight revealed tomorrow's victory.
At most, three days.
Of course, this was a tactic no one but Enkrid could even attempt—
To fight this way required endless Will, stamina to battle for three straight days, and mental strength to remain unbroken.
But if he fought like that, they would lose.
In the meantime, Riley, who was barely holding on behind them, and Ana Hera, whose strength was fading, would die.
Kato would fall, too.
Then the side gates defending Yohan would collapse.
Even if the main walls endured, if the enemy flooded in through the broken gates, all would be lost.
Winning yet failing to protect—
That would be the true defeat.
"Ragna."
"Yes."
"We end this in a single strike."
There was no need for lengthy tactical explanations.
They would respond to the situation moment by moment.
But roles had to be clearly defined.
"You open the path."
He couldn't entrust the final blow to Ragna, whose shoulder was still wounded.
Instead of answering, Ragna lifted his greatsword.
The tip of the blade pointed to the heavens.
KWA-BOOM!
At that very moment, lightning flashed across the sky.
A blinding white light tore above their heads.
Yohan sat atop a basin—
In other words, the perfect spot to be struck by lightning if unlucky.
But it was also a perfect place to boost one's fighting spirit.
Seeing this, Enkrid sheathed his samcheol and regulated his breathing, continuing to speak.
This much, he couldn't help but say.
"Just Two Swordsmen charging."
Ragna echoed the command, committing himself fully.
"Just Two Swordsmen charging."
They were cutting through the demons of the Devil's Territory in a single strike.
This was different from fighting a mere One-Killer.
If they failed, they would die.
Was this a gamble?
Perhaps.
But if they didn't do it, many more would perish.
This battle was not going to be easy.
It was dangerous.
Calling it a gamble was fitting.
Perhaps that's why—
'How fun.'
A fierce joy welled up from deep inside Enkrid, burning away every impurity.
The dregs that dulled his mind and weighed down his limbs were swept away in the fire.
The filth was gone, replaced by blazing flames.
Flames fierce enough to vaporize every raindrop falling now erupted from within him.
The preparation was complete.
Ragna planted himself firmly in front of Enkrid and began to sprint.
With every step forward, Ragna could feel the oppressive force radiating from the Devil's Territory beasts.
It felt like sinking into a swamp.
And the Medusa wasn't alone, either.
The moment he advanced, two Scalers darted in from the left and right like gusts of wind.
Ragna swung his greatsword in a wide arc, cleaving both Scalors in half.
Squelch!
Black blood splattered across the ground.
He pressed forward, speeding up.
Thunk!
Launching off the ground, he could sense Enkrid following right behind.
Ragna couldn't help but find it ridiculous when he recalled the captain calling him a "monster."
Who was calling who a monster, really?
'Neither Father nor Mother knows.'
Back when they played in the bathhouse, Enkrid's cut hair ends were sharp and clean.
There was a clear winner and loser in that spar.
It had been a half-serious duel.
Since coming to Yohan, Enkrid hadn't sparred so earnestly with anyone else.
The captain who approached battle seriously was completely different from the one who just trained.
Ragna understood that.
'When the captain fights at full strength...'
He would surpass Ragna.
Since the Fairy Forest, Ragna had forced things to make it seem like they were equals, but if they fought properly now, he would lose.
And Ragna found that thrilling.
Let the rain pour, let lightning strike in the distance, let Medusa stand before him—none of it mattered.
A tremor ran through his entire body.
Desire raised its head, and his fighting spirit soared.
Adding it all up, there was only one thing he wanted: to see it.
Come.
What will you show me?
The former squad leader, who used to stumble around, had now surpassed him.
Genius?
Talent?
Laughable.
Here stood someone who had overcome all of that.
Moreover, even now, he continued to crave more, ceaselessly moving forward.
'Have you taken another step ahead?'
He asked inwardly.
He didn't need an answer.
If it was Enkrid, then of course he had.
He was an artisan, crafting the clay called "yesterday" into pottery called "tomorrow" by firing it in the kiln of "today."
What kind of vessel had he shaped now?
Ragna was eager to find out.
His sword was steady.
As if he already knew the answers, he calmly struck down everything that came at him.
Fwoosh!
Once they had advanced a certain distance,
Medusa's tail swept across the ground and charged at them.
Crash!
The earth lifted and trembled.
The scales wrapping the tail rose sharply like blades, forming a massive, charging pillar of steel.
'Can't dodge.'
This wasn't a calculated decision made after seeing and recognizing the threat.
It was pure instinct.
Jumping up to evade would only invite the tail to follow.
Thus, he couldn't dodge.
He had to block.
If he blocked once, he would be forced into an undesirable defensive position.
Thinking through all of that was unnecessary for Ragna.
His instinct and intuition told him clearly: he must not evade.
He planted his greatsword firmly into the ground.
Boom!
It felt like an entire palace pillar had been hurled at him.
And that wasn't the end.
The blade-like scales pressing close scratched across the back of Ragna's hand gripping the sword.
Crackle.
The leather gauntlet tore, leaving a gash across the back of Ragna's hand.
Still, it wasn't so bad—at least his wrist hadn't been severed.
Right after, the tip of the Medusa's tail curled upward, revealing at its end a sharp stinger, shy like a bashful bride meeting her groom after three long years.
If he drew his greatsword now, the stinger would strike and send him flying.
Then he would have to expend Will and stamina all over again just to close the distance.
That was exactly what the Medusa wanted.
But standing still would only invite that bashful stinger to land a surprise kiss—and that tongue looked sharp enough to leave a massive hole in his skull.
If he didn't dodge, he'd be hit.
If he didn't want to be hit, he had to evade.
So where was the answer?
Which path should he take?
Once again, Ragna instinctively understood the situation before he even thought it through.
He reached back.
His hand found the captain's secondary weapon—a sword called Penna.
Gripping it, he swung.
In that simple motion, he condensed his Will.
Just like when he had cut down Hescal.
'Conversion of Will.'
Ragna succeeded again.
When training alone, he had only managed to pull it off six times out of ten attempts.
Now, the Will condensed within Penna burst into a bright blue-white light.
Pugagagagak!
As Ragna swung, the Medusa's tail tip was severed along the arc of his strike and sent flying through the air.
It flopped midair like it was still alive.
The bashful bride had been rejected.
And then—
'Now.'
The Medusa's head loomed far above, high enough that even three grown men standing on each other's shoulders might barely reach it.
But because the tail had lunged and then halted, it had formed a stairway leading straight up to the head.
A path revealed itself to Ragna's eyes—and surely to the captain's as well.
There was no need for words, just like how Ragna had silently placed Penna into Enkrid's hand a moment ago.
Ragna bent his knees halfway, lowering himself.
From behind, Enkrid stepped onto Ragna's shoulder and leapt upward.
A light step.
He hadn't even put his full strength into it, yet his body shot upward faster than an arrow, racing up along the Medusa's massive frame.
Kwa-ang!
A thoughtless bolt of lightning crashed down right beside them.
For a brief moment, the deafening roar obliterated all sound.
***
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