Chapter 826

Chapter 826

In the urban centers, the word was that the era of salamanders had passed, replaced by the time of reaping, and the populace was readying themselves for the coming gala.

This meant massive assemblies would form. What would occur if reports of salamanders or horrific beasts reached the metropolitan areas at such a moment? Panic would surely ensue as the masses struggled to flee, resulting in people being crushed underfoot before a single monster even breached the perimeter.

“Organized withdrawal is an impossibility.”

The assessment made by Kraiss was sharp and accurate. The Border Guard and the surrounding settlements had grown to unprecedented sizes. Within these bloated urban centers, an equal density of people had gathered. The Safe Road, that merchant artery known as the Stone Road, and the thriving trade with the merchant principalities—everything acted as a magnet, pulling people toward this hub.

If such a staggering population were forced into a sudden, mass exodus, what would the outcome be?

“The nation would fall apart, naturally.”

One didn’t need to witness it to understand the inevitable consequence.

“Perhaps it is a stroke of luck that this is occurring now.”

The festival would draw the crowds. The silver lining was that the venue for this year’s celebration was the city of Lockfried. Lockfried had been established on open plains rather than mountainous terrain. From its inception, it had been designed not as a fortified military outpost, but as a hub dedicated to commerce.

Consequently, its defensive walls were modest, and its thoroughfares were expansive. Wells had been sunk at numerous points, linked by a network of aqueducts, while the storage zones and trade districts were strictly demarcated. In essence, it was a city perfectly tailored for merchants. It had never been engineered to withstand the rigors of siege or invasion.

While wide streets and organized sectors were boons during times of prosperity, they were strategic liabilities in a conflict. Those numerous wells would provide easy hydration for invading forces.

“The boulevards are perfectly suited for the movement of hostile battalions.”

The granaries and storehouses would be repurposed as enemy supply hubs. While such contingencies had been weighed and defensive measures planned, a single campaign would be enough to break the city’s functionality entirely.

Nevertheless, the critical factor remained that the location was Lockfried—a city on the flats.

“Should disaster strike, fleeing will be a simple matter.”

The designers had intentionally made the city portals massive. But what of the Border Guard?

“The Border Guard is positioned too close to the Pen-Hanil Mountains and the wilderness.”

This was Kraiss’s perspective. Furthermore, that city had been constructed on land ideal for a fortress or a strategic military base. Thus—

“The final line of defense.”

If the salamanders poured down from the peaks and the line failed, they would be forced to make a final stand here until every last soul was extinguished.

“A grim prospect.”

His pulse quickened, and cold sweat threatened to soak his garments. Kraiss viewed himself as a shallow man who looked for the easiest path. Truly, he didn’t think anyone looked to him for acts of heroism. It wasn’t just about what others thought—he lacked those qualities himself and had no desire to acquire them. Yet, reality rarely aligned with one’s preferences. That was the reason for constant preparation.

“If the worst comes, must I be the one to tell everyone we perish here together?”

Kraiss pushed the dark thoughts aside. A wave of nervousness was beginning to swell.

“Wasn’t all of this effort meant to brace us for this exact scenario?”

At that precise moment, Abnaier spoke from his side. Kraiss viewed this man as something of a mentor. Abnaier possessed the self-assurance and natural gift that Kraiss lacked, and his intellectual depth was profound.

“I suppose that is the truth,” Kraiss replied.

Internally a teacher, externally—despite the gap in their years—they had forged a bond as companions.

“Then cast aside your worry. The projectile has already been fired.”

“I’ve witnessed warriors catch a flying arrow mid-air and fling it back with interest.”

Anxiety was a constant shadow that gnawed at him. Abnaier offered a clever retort.

“That warrior is on our side, Kraiss.”

Kraiss had personally observed Enkrid’s evolution. He had seen him achieve the unthinkable. Therefore, Abnaier’s logic held firm.

“I am aware.”

He simply had to fulfill his own duties.

As Kraiss felt that small spark of doubt, the permanent military force began its maneuver. From the outposts lining the Safe Road, the infantry turned their backs to the city walls, leveling their blades and pikes toward the mountain range. The battle was joined.

*** Initially, it was a solitary creature.

A four-legged beast forged of living flame stepped forward, scorching black tracks into the earth. The odor of combustion filled the air, and plumes of smoke curled from every spot it touched. Twigs ignited, fires climbed the brush, and verdant fields were reduced to gray cinders. The inferno cloaking its form made it clear this was no minor threat.

It possessed no ocular organs. No nostrils, no maw. It was a sentient, burning mass of heat.

“We are expected to engage that thing?” a soldier whispered.

“Would you prefer to let it pass?” a comrade retorted.

“No, that isn’t what I meant.”

The first man shrugged, bracing his pike. They were members of the standing army’s polearm division.

*Clink, clink.* The soldier adjusted the locking mechanism between the spearhead and the wooden pole, setting the edge at a sharp diagonal. The first twenty men in the line carried weapons saturated with arcane energy. Where else would Kraiss have funneled his vast wealth? The lion’s share had been spent on equipment. Now, that investment was glowing.

*Pak!* Without a sound, the lupine fire-beast pounced. Three infantrymen braced their weight and drove their spears forward in unison. Their forms were flawless, their strikes unwavering. They had rehearsed this movement thousands of times; there was no hesitation.

*Crunch.* The wolf of flame was impaled upon the enchanted tips and disintegrated, its fire guttering out as it hit the dirt. The way the molten globs splattered was thick enough to evoke the image of charred viscera. All that was left once the heat vanished was a pile of dark soot.

The true challenge lay in enemies that were immune to steel. When weapons found purchase, the problem was manageable.

Soon, dozens of these fire-clad abominations began to descend from the heights.

“All platoons advance, hold the five-deep line. Sync your pace to the retreat signal. Stay in formation.”

The captain issued the command. He concluded that these burning entities lacked complex thought. In truth, they lacked any sentience, behaving more like magical automatons than living beings. They didn’t even possess the primitive malice of ghouls, making them predictable targets.

The five-deep formation was structured so that subsequent ranks filled any openings in the vanguard, creating a multi-layered barrier. Spacing was calculated so that even those in the rear could reach the front with their long pikes.

“Arcane detachment!” the leader shouted.

Not every soldier held a permanently enchanted weapon. Those with mundane steel stood from the third row back. Before them, Esther’s magical specialists raised their hands. While casting unique spells to vaporize every single fire beast was impossible, temporary enchantments were far more efficient.

“Let the radiance of the Blue Star take hold.”

Esther’s incantation left a shimmering azure light dancing on the infantry’s blades and spearheads. It was the enchantment known as the Blessing of the Star.

“All units, level spears.”

With the final command, the points were lowered. It was a phalanx designed to halt a heavy cavalry charge. For them, stopping a disorganized rush of this nature was child’s play.

“Stab!”

“Burn in hell!”

With cries reflecting their grit, they slammed their spears into the fiery creatures. The engagement was entirely lopsided.

The interesting part was that, by the standards of the standing army, these were merely the standard troops. The true specialists were stationed elsewhere. For instance, the holy combat infantry commanded by Audin, with Teresa acting as his second. Regardless of their official designation, they were commonly known as the Fanatic Troop.

“These entities seem to lack a spirit.”

“In that case, even if we slay them, we cannot deliver them to the heavens, can we?”

These were warriors who had tapped into divine power through sheer devotion. If the sacred city of Legion ever discovered their existence, the authorities there would be paralyzed with shock. Audin had a unique method for molding subordinates. Within his circle, past the physical augmentations, he was unmatched in training killers. Even Legion had similar units, but these men were forged in a different fire.

They were all massive, mountain-like figures of muscle. They wore customized gauntlets that snapped into place over their wrists with a metallic ring. These were their primary tools of war. Their attire consisted of white cloth protection, cinched at the limbs with heavy cord.

“All units, engage at will.”

These were the warriors Audin and Teresa had meticulously refined. The gauntlets they wore began to emit a soft radiance. They had touched the divine but could not yet channel it without a medium. Thus, they utilized their gear. Their gauntlets had been consecrated by Audin and Teresa. In the heat of battle, they could coat their strikes in holy power. And so they did—pulverizing the skulls of the fire beasts with their fists.

The count of fire monsters surged into the hundreds. Some clashed with Rem’s shock troops, while others met Ragna’s agile blade squad. Even the personal protectors of Enkrid took the field.

“No one in this unit is pathetic enough to get hurt by this trash, right? Answer me!”

The female squire once ridiculed as Clumsy Clemence now led Enkrid’s honor guard. She had also earned the moniker Pervert Clemence within the Border Guard. Rumors suggested she had a dark penchant for grueling her subordinates, leading to that strange title.

“If you take a wound, you’ll regret ever being born.”

Her tone was devoid of any jest. The guardsmen behind her gritted their teeth. If they so much as scratched a finger, that lunatic woman would subject them to training until they collapsed.

The standing army consisted of ten units, yet Kraiss had only deployed six. The remainder were held in the back. And with those six alone, the tidal wave of monsters coming from the mountains was effectively dammed.

*** ‘Something is off.’

Enkrid moved forward, Dawn Tempering held ready, his mind working quickly. He was moving toward the location Garrett and Finn had identified within the Pen-Hanil Mountains.

On his path, a towering fire giant blocked his way. Larger than even Audin, its intense radiance could be felt from twenty paces away. It stood motionless, not even scorching the trees in its immediate vicinity. Then, as if sensing Enkrid, it shifted its gaze.

‘It stands upright.’

Its silhouette was humanoid. Furthermore, fire erupted from its palms, taking on a solid shape.

‘A heavy blade?’

No—the elongated pillar of fire ending in a heavy weight was a mace.

‘A flail, perhaps.’

Enkrid did not hurry. His left hand gripped the sheath, his right rested on the hilt of Dawn Tempering as he maintained a steady walk. Neither rushing nor lagging.

The fire giant manifested massive flails of flame, weapons so large that even Audin would have struggled to swing them.

*Whoosh—* It was pure heat. It reminded him of a living pyre, or perhaps a Balrog. As these memories surfaced, Enkrid adjusted the Will flowing through his veins.

‘For the Line Explosion.’

Like a gale, like a tempest.

*Boom—* The internal detonation echoed as his heel struck the dirt. Enkrid seemed to tear through the fabric of time as he accelerated. Any witness would have been stunned. This was explosive speed born from a simple walking stance. His posture remained upright, no tell-tale signs of a dash, not even a flexing of the thighs.

The source of this unnatural movement? Naturally, it was Will. Enkrid’s mastery over his Will had progressed immensely. Without that growth, he couldn’t have survived this place. The memory of slaying the Balrog remained etched in him.

He transformed into a streak of blue light and bypassed the fire giant.

*Whooosh!* The air displaced violently.

*B-Boom!* Shockwaves of compressed air erupted behind him.

*Fwoosh.* The giant’s burning flail struck nothing but atmosphere. As Enkrid moved past, the edge of Dawn Tempering cut through the flames, dissolving them into nothingness.

It was a lone, perfect strike.

The colossus was severed in two and collapsed into ash. The hot wind blew his hair back, exposing the sapphire-blue eyes hidden beneath.

‘My frame feels weightless.’

No pain. A peculiar sensation—not a feeling of being a god, but—

‘It feels as though all things are possible.’

His anatomy responded perfectly to his intent. Enkrid continued his trek. Simply putting one foot in front of the other, every stride pushed against the earth and sent him flying forward. It looked relaxed, yet it was faster than a full sprint for most. It wasn’t quite a run, but it was relentless.

Then, he paused. A slope rose before him, and though thickets and briars tried to impede him, he had been vaulting over them with ease.

“State your name,” Enkrid commanded.

Near a gnarled tree, a figure stood. Clad in simple cloth, wielding a white, hiltless blade, his thin eyes possessed vertical slits. Clearly, he was not of the human race. He watched Enkrid for a beat before responding.

“You perish. Move. Here, I. Can perish.”

The diction was understandable, but the phrasing was peculiar. But Enkrid was a veteran of deciphering intent, having survived the cryptic lessons of his various masters. He grasped the stranger’s meaning immediately.

“Are you claiming you will end me? Or that death awaits me if I pass you?”

The figure paused, then answered.

“You perish. By my hand.”

Still choppy, but the intent was clear. What was odd—

‘No malice, no bloodlust.’

Yet Enkrid knew this being would follow through. It was a raw, instinctive certainty.

“That sounds like a declaration of war,” Enkrid said, unsheathing Dawn Tempering.

*Chring.* The azure steel was leveled at the interloper. The man continued to observe him with unnerving stillness. Then he spoke once more. Enkrid was ready to lunge, but—

“Halt. End.”

At that command, his muscles locked.

Everything was contrary to expectation. Unlike the crushing pressure of the Balrog, this man’s simple words had physically arrested his movement. The Will churning inside Enkrid fought against this outside control, and by instinct, his Will of Rejection flared out, shattering the verbal shackle.