Chapter 114

Chapter 114

***

A very brief moment is enough. Very brief. The time needed to kill a person, that is.

The enemies blankly watched Rickart jumping down from the large rock for a moment. A streak of light crossed the empty air.

The one with pointy ears didn't block or counterattack; he simply backed far away as if fleeing. But the other people did not.

They hurriedly brought out throwing weapons or pushed forward hooked spears, but were terribly slow.

It felt as though a wind swept past, their vision flashed, and spots like their necks, arms, or shoulders burned hotly. That was their last memory, sensation, and consciousness.

Once distance was conceded to Rickart, attacks, defenses, such things were meaningless.

And numerical superiority was also meaningless. Because a very brief moment was enough for six or seven armed people to die without even realizing they were dying.

Though no blood stained the blade, Rickart habitually flicked his sword and stared at the bastard who had fled into the shade of the forest.

With eyes mixed with fear and greed, he alternately looked at the flaming sword and Rickart. Unable to fight back, he nonetheless coveted Rickart's heart.

"You, you're Ricky, right? Red Cape."

The opponent said. Hadn't he known? Rickart neither confirmed nor denied it.

However, because the opponent's base bottom was so plainly visible, Rickart naturally let out a scornful laugh.

"Seeing it now, you have absolutely zero understanding of demons...... You're nothing more or less than a pig pickled in gluttony."

"Babble whatever you want. We are many, and growing stronger by the day. In the end, you too will fall miserably."

"Things like mana reserves increasing won't change anything. Only a deep and broad mind grants broader insight. You wouldn't know even if I told you."

Rickart approached to kill him, but as expected, he fled.

However, his movements were extraordinary. Similar to the bastard who jumped off the cliff a while ago, jumping high beyond human physical capabilities to stand on a tree branch.

Had they developed a Mana Drive that lightened the body? But that didn't seem immediately helpful in combat. If it was, he would have done something with it.

Standing on the branch, he looked down at Rickart, and when Rickart prepared to throw a stone, he quickly fled. Throwing stones is a powerful technique favored by humans from primal times to the present.

Stepping from branch to branch, he disappeared in an instant.

Rickart pondered for a moment what to do before giving chase in the direction he vanished. Rather than catching him, it was to gauge the other enemies.

Indeed, before long, more and more personnel were gathering where the flare had erupted.

Spreading out widely and then converging on the center of the circle, they were easily discovered even without needing to scour the forest.

Hiding in bushes or behind trees, Rickart ambushed them all at once exactly like a tiger and finished them off.

Splitting into small detachments had its advantages, but its disadvantages were also clear. That was precisely the fact they could be defeated individually.

Moreover, because the enemies never in their wildest dreams thought they would be counterattacked, they couldn't even flee properly. In an instant, communication failed, and the communication network itself began to fall apart.

However, on the other hand, there were people who reached the peak where the group was hiding. Seeing Bori guarding the rugged, narrow path, they naturally didn't rush in but played some tricks from afar.

Nothing else but roughly throwing things made by mixing tar or something strange from afar and firing flaming arrows.

Thinking 'what are they doing on a rocky mountain?', it began producing thick, acrid smoke instantly. Smoke thicker than imagined billowed up.

Bori followed Rickart's judgment, but knew he had to respond accordingly when the situation changed. Thus substituting the chokepoint, he charged at the enemies.

Taking out a sword once named Phantom Sword but renamed by Bori himself as the Nameless Sword, a color like shining starlight on a dark night covered the blade.

However, unlike Rickart, Bori had a terribly hard time fighting while avoiding bothersome throwing weapons and nets. He could truly be captured or seriously injured with one wrong move.

So he pushed back the enemies alone, fell back again, and attacked again repeatedly.

He should have finished it cleanly in one go and moved to the next like Rickart, but being in preserving stance, that was difficult.

The enemies somehow tried to find a detour to climb the mountain and surround Bori from front and back. But there, they ran into the Hartmann family, Bremen, and Marie.

Since their target was Bori from the start, they wondered what these people were doing here. No matter how good the communication network was, it wasn't easy for the first discoverer's information to be fully and accurately relayed.

Hartmann and the others felt their hearts drop. Because smoke was billowing wildly from down there, giving off the feeling that perhaps a fire had broken out. In reality, there was no fire.

The enemies were also panicked, but veteran fighter Marie drew the Famous Sword Ricky. A sword with blade length and width almost at golden ratio bounds, incredibly shapely.

Slashing rapidly with that sword like a swift wave or perhaps a whip, one enemy who was climbing while grabbing here and there had his neck sliced and fell down.

Then the people below were startled. The thick smoke hindered the enemies' vision too, so they didn't know well what happened above.

"What's going on?"

"Seems there are more enemies."

"Didn't they say it was one Sword Master?"

It seemed there were many temporarily hired personnel.

Capturing a Sword Master was an extremely dangerous and difficult task, but they thought it doable if many personnel were committed.

However, if there were more enemies, wouldn't that change the story differing from the contract details?

So they immediately told the person belonging to the clan that hired them.

"There are more enemies. You must raise the contract fee."

"How much more do you need?"

"Double for each additional enemy head."

Whether it's words or dung, truly behaving like mercenaries, they threw out nonsensical conditions the moment a chance arose.

It's unknown how much money the Rubens Clan had, but no matter how much they had, they couldn't accept this proposal.

Of course there was room to haggle, but there was no time for that in this urgent situation.

"Step aside. We'll handle here."

So with no other choice, the swordsmen belonging to the Rubens Clan decided to step forward themselves.

The mercenaries pulled back without any lingering attachment, as if saying 'do as you please'. 'I only need to work as much as I was paid, why risk my life more than necessary?'

The Rubens Clan swordsmen, utilizing their unique body-lightening technique, leaped up to where Marie was in single bounds. The terrain itself was structured preventing people from swarming at once, but they were different.

As soon as they showed themselves, Marie swung her sword as if she had been waiting.

As purple flashes rushed while piercing the hazy smoke, the Rubens Clan people's hands and feet got tangled, resulting in two people dying absurdly simply.

However, rather than being surprised or saddened by their comrades' deaths, they widened their eyes with greed upon seeing Marie's sword. The flow of their thoughts itself had already been distorted by greed long ago.

"To think there's another Sword Master."

"Spread wide!"

"Someone go up!"

Greed transcending even the fear of death, they seemed ready to drool over Marie. Like a swarm of flies flying around quickly, they started to surround Marie in the rugged terrain.

Marie felt troubled as she began to be surrounded front, back, and sides. Attacking actively would expose the group, while purely defending meant getting surrounded.

Furthermore, these light movements! Not even professional acrobats were at that level. It seemed there was some special mana control method.

Like fighting while holding advantageous and disadvantageous cards against each other, it was perilous like walking on thin ice.

Marie had a final option. Giving up on the group. By herself she could break through the enemies and join Bori, or even if not, simply kill anyone blocking her and leave.

But Marie wasn't that kind of person. Same as her husband. Even at the cost of her life, she didn't even consider such cowardly acts.

Where are the options? No such thing exists. There's only work that must be done risking one's life.

Just then, one of the Rubens Clan shouted towards the Hartmann family.

"Strike that bitch from behind! I'll give you whatever amount you want!"

Appalled, Marie looked back at the people she was protecting. Because being betrayed by trusted people was a fatal move even an exalted swordsman couldn't do anything about.

My heart is steadfast, but what about yours? Distrust and doubt brushed past her chest.

But it was an unfounded worry. Because just as Marie had no options, the option of betrayal never existed for them from the start either.

Hartmann stepped forward holding his axe without a moment's hesitation, loudly and firmly shouting.

"I don't need it!"

Then he rushed at the one who had been continuously harassing Marie with hit-and-run tactics from the right.

However, regrettably, the enemies had just been facing Sword Masters, but they weren't people to fall prey to a mere woodcutter's axe swing.

Rather than dodging lightly, he counterattacked lightly. The axe cleaved empty air, and Hartmann's side was heavily slashed.

"Father!"

"Honey!"

His wife and children cried out simultaneously. Yet the true surprise was yet to come.

Despite his side being heavily slashed, Hartmann gritted his teeth and endured, then using his honest, steadfast strength he grabbed the opponent, pulled them forcefully, and headbutted them. Not just once, but multiple times.

Thud! Thuaack! Thud! Crack!

The enemy's face completely caved in and died, and Hartmann's forehead bled profusely, covering his face. Turning towards his family in that state, he yelled.

"Don't come!"

Where does a human's strength stem from? It seemed clear it wasn't simply strength or mana.

Shining courage and firm will seemed to show how strong a person could be. Even if the results were meager, even if one failed to survive.

The strong don't survive, but those who survive are the strong? Nonsense. I don't want to live like that. Hartmann was that kind of person, that kind of father, that kind of husband.

A man who endured with broad shoulders and chest no matter how much the world whipped him.

Anyway, angered by the loss of a valuable clan swordsman, his comrades attacked Hartmann, and though Marie fought desperately she was overwhelmed. She couldn't tell Hartmann to step back now either.

While suffering sword wounds all over his body in an instant, Hartmann suddenly hugged one enemy tightly and pushed with iron-like will, throwing his body into the sharp, jagged rocky area.

In the final moment, regret over murdering a priest, apologies toward his family, and hope for a future even without him filled Hartmann's heart.

"Uwaaaaaah!"

Instantly everyone watched the sight in shock.

Before long, Hartmann fell onto the rugged terrain together with one enemy, dying a heroic, fiery death. Without an inch of hesitation.

By this point, even the enemies felt 'wow, what is this?'. Apart from the Sword Master, the rest seemed like ordinary people, yet showing such fighting spirit made them lose their nerve.

However, the people who lost their loved one couldn't help but be devastated. Right now, rather than sorrow or anger, they were simply blank. Reality felt like a lie.

The acrid smoke grew even thicker. Trying to cover what up.

For a very brief moment, silence flowed until one enemy regained his senses and yelled.

"Take those people hostage!"

Startled Marie shouted.

"Stick close to the wall!"

Marie's purple sword flashed while cleaving the smoke. But it was impossible to repel all the enemies who jumped around freely with bodies as light as feathers.

As the situation reached this point, Bremen, Roy, and Becca stepped forward. Was the final moment Rickart mentioned right now?

The fight was like a tiger protecting chicks, with eagles and hawks seemingly trying to snatch the chicks from all directions.

Suppressing his belatedly rising sorrow, Roy gritted his teeth and focused his mind against the enemy, but the opponent merely seemed to play with him.

It wasn't that Roy's learning level was terrible, but it wasn't enough to face clan swordsmen.

In the end he only managed to exchange a few sword strikes before the opponent swung their sword as if entangling it and knocked Roy's sword far away. And simultaneously reached out instantly to grab him.

Roy closely evaded by lowering his posture almost to the point of lying prone. That's when his hand touched an item on the ground. It was the axe his father used.

It was a heavy item for a boy to lift. However, if swung with a certain knack, it didn't require much strength while being vastly more powerful than a sword. The only difficulty was hitting the target point precisely.

Roy had played with it when he was young while his parents weren't looking. That was all his experience handling an axe. Yet, in this exact moment, maximizing centrifugal force, he swung the axe powerfully.

Memories from when he was very young mixed instantly with his training so far.

Thwack!

Whether it was aimed or lucky. The opponent's knee flew off.

The opponent was startled by the unbelievable reality, but with below one knee gone, his body tilted.

Yet Roy, as if in a single motion, after striking the knee brought the axe behind his head and simply chopped down with all his might.

Whoosh! Crack!

Even before collapsing onto the ground, the one whose face was chopped by the axe blade died right there.

With this, casualties among the Rubens Clan swordsmen reached five. Marie killed two, Hartmann two, Roy one.

Losing five high-level swordsmen was never a small loss. The pressure on Marie also loosened noticeably as if a turning point had passed.

And just then, piercing the smoke, a red cape fluttered.

Rickart suddenly appeared and swung his sword; before they could even react, one person died and rolled down the rocky mountain.

Then finally the offensive broke, and Marie charged out to kill the enemies.

As the situation reversed in an instant, the confused enemies lost their footing here and there and wildly rolled down the mountain. Just one or two fled in a huge hurry.

"Marie, Roy."

Rickart, who had killed more enemies than anyone, hastily checked the group. Aside from being drenched in sweat and having disheveled hair, Marie had no anomalies, while Roy looked somewhat blank.

"A-Ah, Father is......"

As Roy barely opened his mouth, Rickart discovered Hartmann's corpse, who died together with the enemy far below the hideout. Damn.

"Let's go help Bori first."

Rickart said while gathering his reason. Fortunately, the cleanup seemed finished on that side too, as Bori came up panting.

Scanning the surroundings, the mercenaries had also retreated and weren't visible. Realizing belatedly that fewer reinforcements came than expected and most were killed by Rickart, they simply bailed.

Nevertheless, there was no joy in victory or anything. The late afternoon sun was bright, yet hazy from the smoke. The lack of wind was simply stifling.

Rickart first slowly descended down untrailed paths to recover the body.

Holding and supporting the others as they came down, they gathered together around Hartmann's body. An ugly enemy corpse he simply lifted up and tossed far away.

Being a death by falling, the body's condition was somewhat gruesome. Smashed, broken.

Always feeling anxious about death yet thinking he accepted it in his own way while living, when reality struck it was hard to believe.

"Sob, sob, sob......"

The first to start sobbing was his wife, Elia. She collapsed over her husband's body and cried, and their daughter cried.

Yet Roy simply stood still, watching the sight.

"Roy."

Rickart embraced his disciple's shoulders. Roy buried his face in Rickart's chest and said something unexpected.

"You said negative emotions, must be handled well, right? What should I do? You said it depends on the mindset, but do I have an option? Do I? Something like that?"

Rickart's heart ached. After a moment of deep thought, he asked back to the disciple in his arms.

"Are you angry?"

"At everything. Including myself."

Because he was his son, because he was his beloved father, Roy was flooded with self-blame. If only he had trained a bit harder normally, if only he had talent, if only he had sold out his friend at the Viola Clan, all sorts of things tormented Roy. Whether they were right or wrong.

"Recall memories of your father. Good memories, that is. Acceptance can be done slowly. No need to rush. You didn't do anything wrong either. Keep the sorrow and anger. Dearly. However......"

Rickart trailed off. He felt the front of his shirt getting wet.

"Leave becoming a demon to me. I promise. Those bastards will definitely pay the price of blood. All you have to do is, continue respecting and loving your father."

Rickart wanted to protect the noble character that had just begun to sprout. Because it hadn't yet grown into a large tree and could easily break or distort under the trials of life.

A very brief moment is enough. Very brief. The time needed to kill a person, and the time to let go of oneself too.

Therefore Rickart volunteered to become a demon in order to hold onto the collapsing Roy.

A demon of demons. Bringing it out when necessary wasn't very pleasant, but still, he thought someone with experience should bear it.

It was time to show those pigs who merely devoured hearts. What a real demon is.

But for now, it was time to mourn. The peak covered in hazy smoke looked as though it wore white mourning clothes.