168. Krais, cut it.
"Esther, let's go together. Krais, you go find the village chief right now."
"Huh?"
Krais asked, looking completely confused. Well, the awkward act was over. It was unnecessary and meaningless now.
"Go and deliver the message. From now on, I'll be in charge of all the forces in the city."
"Suddenly?"
"Yes, suddenly. If they don't follow, show them this. Tell them that disobedience will result in immediate execution."
Enkrid handed over the orders and turned around.
"Where are you going, Commander?"
Krais was quick to catch on. He could sense something from Enkrid's attitude.
"At the door, if the village chief resists, take him hostage or do whatever it takes to hold out."
"...Huh?"
The last part was half-joking.
Enkrid immediately took off running. With each quick step, the armor clanked and rattled on his body.
It was pretty uncomfortable to run in.
But there was no way to take it off.
With light, quick steps, Esther, who moved twice as fast as Enkrid, glanced at him briefly.
"Don't ask, just follow me. We don't have time."
At Enkrid's words, the leopard nodded. She really did seem like a person.
They arrived at the main gate. It was still early, so they weren't late.
'Not late.'
At least, they were still within the time frame.
Normally, there would be five guards at the gate.
Two in the watchtower, two below, and one at the squad leader level.
The squad leader would be inside a small post next to the gate.
If you exclude the squad leader, there would be four left. If a fight broke out, these four would typically hold out from the watchtower, shooting arrows at any of their own who tried to climb the tower to help.
Enkrid was all too familiar with those faces.
"Huh? What's going on?"
One of the more pleasant-looking men asked.
Enkrid stood in front of the gate, addressing the two who were holding their positions.
"From now on, the command of this area is handed over to the squad leader of this unit."
"...Huh?"
The man looked at Enkrid in disbelief. Enkrid continued, his tone unwavering.
"I'm in charge of the village defense now."
Had Deutsch Pullman ever anticipated something like this?
Well, the reality had come knocking.
The man, who had been pretending to be one of Deutsch Pullman's subordinates, stiffened.
"Did you get permission from our commander?"
At that moment, someone stuck their head out from the small post.
The mercenary with the spear. He was one of Deutsch Pullman's subordinates, a squad leader.
Of course, that wasn't what mattered.
"Do you have a problem? Once I bring the orders, it's only natural that I become the one in charge."
"Since when? No, how long do you plan to play commander?"
"I'm the commander from now on, and I'll stay in charge until the colony issue is resolved."
He answered calmly, but the man furrowed his brows. His expression turned menacing.
"Shit, are you messing with me? Hey, you fool, do you think I'm an easy target?"
It was the kind of reaction Enkrid had expected, so he spoke the words he had prepared.
"If you have a problem, you don't need to use your tongue instead of your fists."
"Are you out of your mind?"
The man stepped forward. He didn't immediately swing his weapon, but it was clear he was planning to throw a punch.
The man threw his fist.
The punch flew fast, and Enkrid appeared to stand still as if he wouldn't move at all.
But just before the punch landed, Enkrid merely tilted his head to avoid it, then swiftly extended his left leg to kick the man's ankle.
The dodging and the kick happened in one fluid motion, a display of graceful movement.
Caught off guard by the unexpected strike, the man stumbled, losing his balance and leaning forward.
Enkrid pushed the off-balance man's body with his left hand.
"Uh, uh."
Thud.
The man toppled over sideways.
Just as the man with the reddened face tried to stand up, using his spear like a cane—
Sching.
The sound of a sword being drawn.
At the same time, a blade touched his neck.
"Don't get up. Don't resist. Disobedience is grounds for immediate execution."
With a blade against his neck—especially one with a chilling blue edge—it would be hard to even think of speaking carelessly.
The man was no exception.
Gulp. Swallowing, he barely managed to open his mouth.
"Do you know how many members the vigilante group has here? You—you can't handle it."
It was a threat, but it didn't sound like one.
Anyone could tell his voice was trembling with fear.
Encrid had no intention of killing him.
He just thought it would get a reaction.
It was a simple idea.
'How did the Kgnols and hyenas get inside?'
How did thick log walls become a prison?
Why had this place become their banquet hall?
Because they had come inside. Over the wall? That's unlikely. Kgnols are creatures with underdeveloped lower bodies.
The same goes for hyenas.
The wall is an impassable barrier for monsters and beasts alike.
Then, did they break through? Impossible.
There's only one answer: the gate was opened.
So why was there no response until this number of monsters had gathered?
At first, I formed a hypothesis, then confirmed it over several instances today.
The one who opened the gate is guilty.
The one in the watchtower who saw but didn't speak is also guilty.
Keeping his grip on his sword, Encrid's eyes searched for the emergency bell.
It was by the gate.
Since that bell hadn't rung, there was only one innocent here—the friend who had fallen just now.
So then, what will their response be here?
This was exactly what he'd been waiting for.
Up in the watchtower, a female soldier took up a bow. Silently, she aimed and shot. Staying aware of his surroundings, Encrid lightly kicked off from the ground.
Thunk!
At the same instant as the bowstring was released, an arrow struck the spot where Encrid had been.
"...Are you insane? Stop shooting!"
The captain, stunned by what had happened to Encrid, shouted in alarm, but there was no chance they'd listen to him.
"Kill him."
It was one of the men standing by the gate with a friendly smile.
Hearing this, the two up in the watchtower loaded their arrows onto the string again.
Two on the watchtower—one female soldier, one male soldier. The female soldier was more skilled with the bow. That much, he knew from experience.
These were cultists, too.
There was neither room for leniency nor any intention of showing it.
Piiik! Piiiik!
Two sharp whistles sounded.
Daggers sliced through the air.
A groan escaped the two soldiers on the watchtower just as they were setting arrows on their strings.
"Ghk."
"Grk."
Those were their final breaths.
Once a throat is pierced, there's no coming back.
The male archer slumped forward, falling to the ground with a thud, while the female clutched her neck and sank down.
The cultist archer's neck twisted into a grotesque angle as he fell headfirst.
Blood dripped down from where the female soldier had been on the watchtower, pooling below.
It all happened in an instant.
"Insane!"
The captain shouted in shock.
Ignoring him completely, Encrid pointed his drawn sword forward and spoke.
"Both of you are guilty of disobedience and attempted murder of a superior officer, punishable by summary execution. But if you drop your weapons and surrender, I'll spare you."
It was an offer bound to be rejected.
"Screw you."
The two cultists in vigilante masks standing by the gate flashed their eyes. There was something strange about the look in their eyes.
More than anything, their skill was impressive.
They moved quickly, and their coordination was flawless.
Clang.
Both wielded short swords, charging at him from either side at the same speed.
They came slicing through the early dawn's cold, blue air.
Before standing here, Encrid had endured countless days.
Relentless training, repeated day after day.
His sense of evasion, his coordination—everything sharpened through persistent practice.
Heightened reflexes, sharpened senses, even his dynamic vision.
It was a transformation in reaction speed.
When your reaction speed changes, what can you see, and what changes?
That place was like a new world.
How to describe it? It was like moving twice as fast as anyone else.
Rem, Ragna, Saxen, Audin.
The feats they performed—Encrid could now do the same.
So then—
Bang! Bang!
The result was hardly surprising.
Deflecting swords coming at him simultaneously from both sides with just one sword—knocking them away with ease.
It was simple. A swing to the right, followed by a swing to the left, timed perfectly.
For his attackers, though, it must have been baffling.
Their eyes widened, short swords in hand.
What just happened? How did he block that?
It looked as though his blade had vanished.
But Encrid didn't stop.
To celebrate entering this new world, he swung his sword with all his might.
What he had gained from all these endless days was more than just a sense for evasion and coordination.
With a single breath, he could awaken a fierce strength from within, doubling his speed.
The moment he saw and sensed something, his body responded on its own.
Whoosh. Slash! Slash!
Encrid swung his sword twice more.
To the right, he sliced upward from below, and to the left, he swung downward from above.
Both swings targeted the wrists.
And so the result was as expected.
"Argh!"
"Gahh!"
With a clean cut to their wrists, the hands holding short swords fell to the ground.
Between the two bleeding men, Encrid stood silently, sword in hand.
"…What…what the hell? Why are you swinging your sword around like a maniac all of a sudden?"
The captain, sitting on the ground, spoke in a voice full of bewilderment.
Encrid looked at him and finally spoke.
"I'm smelling something foul. Is that gate really shut tight?"
When he first came in, he'd seen the gate open with a pulley—it was likely the lock mechanism.
"Huh?"
"Check it. If you don't get up and do it now, I'll assume you're an accomplice and cut you down too."
It was a mild threat, but spoken by someone who acted decisively.
The captain jumped to his feet. Staying down with trembling legs would be dangerous in a moment like this.
He moved to check the pulley.
"Why is this loose?"
Shouting in surprise, he secured the pulley firmly.
If the lock mechanism was loosened, the gate was no barrier at all. A simple push would open it.
He tightened the pulley's lock with such force that his arm muscles strained, then he gasped for breath.
"Phew…phew… But, what smell?"
Only then did he repeat the words he'd heard before.
Thud!
Something hit the wall from outside, sending a tremor through the ground.
The foul stench—it was a smell Encrid knew all too well, and it seeped through the thick gate.
"Groooarrr!"
A roar erupted from outside. The cry of an Kgnol. Heavy power, an invisible aura—it could all be felt from beyond the gate.
The captain, standing by the gate, stumbled back in fear.
He might even wet himself at this rate.
Fortunately, the captain wasn't quite that faint-hearted.
After a brief glance at him, Encrid turned his gaze.
He addressed the two with their wrists severed.
"Are you cultists?"
Their eyes widened. Sometimes, even silence can be an answer.
Should he let them live? No, there was little point. True cultists were rumored to use strange spells, but it seemed these two couldn't, so they likely weren't important.
Leaving them would just mean a knife at his back.
Thrust. Thrust.
With two swift stabs, he made holes in their throats, leaving two more bodies behind.
Encrid then climbed up the watchtower.
Partly to assess their numbers and size, and partly to survey the surroundings. Higher ground was always advantageous.
The sun was rising, providing clear visibility. Under the morning light, he could see them—a horde of hundreds of beasts and monsters.
The sheer number was horrifying.
Encrid was once again astonished that he had survived inside that.
'I may have only endured without dying, but still.'
There were just so many.
From above, the sight was truly overwhelming.
The creatures were ramming against the wall and gate.
Encrid had cleared the watchtower.
But along the barricades, there were no guards in sight.
Instead, Encrid noticed the bodies of some vigilantes—ones who should have been holding the wall—lying as corpses.
It must have been the work of the cultists. More specifically, the work of the two he had just killed.
"Wait, what the hell is this?"
A voice came from below the watchtower. It was Crise.
A nightmare had turned into reality.
Crise was holding a sword to the village chief's neck, shouting. Behind him were a few vigilantes, each radiating a dangerous aura.
"What the hell is going on?"
Crise looked close to tears.
Watching this, Encrid couldn't help but smile.
"Esther."
Encrid called Esther to guard the gate.
"Grr."
The leopard responded, as if to say she understood—sometimes she seemed more reliable than people.
"I need to ask what's going on here."
Behind the village chief, Deutsch Pullman had arrived with a crowd of his followers.
Most of them looked bewildered.
Outside, there were monsters; inside, someone was holding a sword to the village chief's neck, along with dead comrades lying around.
Even Deutsch Pullman's eyes were shaky. Understandably, he was startled, but Encrid had no time for that.
Encrid spoke calmly.
"I'm giving the orders, and I'm in command here. No objections allowed. We're defending against the monsters. Get the remaining vigilantes up onto the wall. Anyone who knows how to shoot a bow should go up there."
No one moved.
Deutsch Pullman was a man with guts.
Despite the thudding noises outside, he glared fiercely at Encrid.
Encrid knew what he had to say.
"Crise, cut him."
The village chief's life was in their hands.
"Damn it, no! What are you all doing? Get those arrows into the monsters' heads now!"
Deutsch shouted. Of course, Crise didn't actually slice the chief's neck.
Encrid shrugged.
"You're going to have to explain this later!"
Deutsch bellowed.
Encrid ignored him.
This was a tactic.
The plan was to stop this from ever happening.
To act swiftly and prevent the Kgnol's invasion.
If they could hold off the assault like this, what would happen to the repetition of today?
He had thought of a way to get through today, but he didn't know if it would go as planned. It was his first time trying something like this.
Still, Lua Garnet was nowhere to be seen.
Naturally, neither were Deutsch's men.
"Damn it, Enki."
Just as he was assessing the situation, planning to use the chief's life as a bargaining chip to observe the fight, Finn crawled in from one side.
Finn, who had gone out on patrol, had returned with a wound in his abdomen.
So that was it.
Finn must have fought someone and gotten injured. It was a significant wound—not the kind you could brush off. When there's a hole in your abdomen, it hurts, walking is difficult, and so on.
Because of Finn's injury, they hadn't been able to alert anyone of the monster and beast attack.
Otherwise, there's no way Finn would have missed the movement of a colony of this size.
"Crise, release the chief and treat Finn first."
Enkrid spoke. "It's not a fatal wound. But it's not one you can easily move with either. He needs treatment."
"The colony of monsters and beasts… it's close to a thousand."
Even injured, Finn managed to say what he needed to. His face was pale. Enkrid simply nodded.
"Can you explain this to me?"
Meanwhile, the village chief, also pale, spoke up. A true pioneer village chief, it seemed.
He had courage, asking for an explanation in this situation.
"Let's hold them off first."
With that, Enkrid headed toward the barricade.
Even if their skills were lacking, every extra arrow would count.
And they'd have to break down a few walls to make it through today.
Today had only just begun.
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