Chapter 51

Chapter 51

***

The red sunset looked like blood, or perhaps like fire. Beneath that sunset, over a hundred pairs of eyes watching the duel held their own thoughts.

Some held cheering hearts, some held expectations, some were filled with curiosity, and some simply watched.

In Marie's eyes, Rickart's back was visible. The boy stepping up for the duel did not tremble. Rather than being brave, he seemed to have no lingering attachment to life. Strangely, it felt that way to her.

The enemies had climbed the highlands to watch the duel from a closer vantage point. They were scattered here and there, but they approached so close that one might worry if it was safe.

Yet the boy did not care at all. It was as if it didn't matter whether a hundred or a thousand attacked.

Between Rickart and his opponent, Oeberstein, was the red sun. Far away, it hung on the ridge, slowly sinking.

Thus, the left and right sides of Rickart and his opponent were dyed red, while the opposite sides were darkened by the backlight.

Who would start first? In a duel with real swords, that was always the most important thing.

Having superior skill did not make the fight last longer. Rather, in most cases, it ended in an instant.

Many times, it ended at the first move. Even if one side won, they could be severely injured. A sword fight was such a thing.

Therefore, one facing a duel with real swords had to dedicate all their skill and their entire life to the tip of the sword. Sometimes even death.

The red sun sank further and further. The onlookers even worried what would happen if the sun set like this.

While the world very slowly, gradually lost its light, there was a very short moment when it became noticeably darker than before.

At that moment, Oeberstein strode forward. His steps were light and cheerful.

But the sword would be swung after the step. All swords were like that. Otherwise, the power of the sword would decrease.

So Rickart looked at the opponent's eyes, simultaneously seeing the whole picture, and moved slightly to the right before the opponent's step toward him even touched the ground.

However, for an extremely short moment, Rickart felt the distance was off. It meant there was no sincerity in the opponent's attack.

When the opponent's foot touched the ground again, someone suddenly popped out from behind a rock on the right. They had been aiming for this.

The opponent's foot touched the ground. Then, two swords cut through the empty air without clashing with each other.

Whish! Swish!

"Ricky!"

"Th-that!"

People were startled. Aiming for an ambush while pretending to be one-on-one.

The person who suddenly popped out rushed at Rickart. Rickart hurriedly turned to look at him. However, rushing in was also a deception.

The ambusher did not fully approach Rickart but ran quickly around the perimeter. While doing so, he threw throwing daggers quickly with both hands, swish, swish, swish.

They were daggers imbued with mana. They seemed capable of piercing even iron plates. Indeed, with such a method, he must have gained quite a reputation in the region.

But what was scarier was that the first dagger was to induce Rickart's evasion, the second dagger was to block his retreat, and the last third dagger was the real one. To comprise such meticulousness.

Actually, Rickart dodged two daggers but not the third.

Rickart's upper body twisted and bent back sharply. From a distance, to anyone watching, it looked like he was hit by the dagger.

"Ricki-!"

Shouts of friends erupted. However, the closest one to Rickart currently was Oeberstein. He approached Rickart quickly to finish him off surely.

But what was this? Suddenly, the tip of a dagger was seen before his eyes. Rickart had snatched the third dagger and thrown it at him. Wait, is this possible? That can't be.

Oeberstein felt as if time flowed slowly for a moment. However, knowing better than anyone that it couldn't be avoided, the time to feel the fear of death and despair only lengthened.

Thud!

The dagger struck accurately between Oeberstein's eyebrows. The blade was completely embedded leaving only the handle, reaching the brain. His head snapped back sharply by the force carried in the dagger.

At that moment, the one who tried to kill Rickart by joining in with a dagger in hand paused at the unexpected situation. In his eyes, Rickart's cloak appeared to spin like a top due to the violent movement.

The red cloak was roughly thrown back, and from beyond it, a sword tip aimed at him popped out.

"Ugh!"

It was a situation he had never even dreamed of, so his steps got tangled, and he staggered as if falling backward. In the end, it wasn't a defense or anything; he just extended his hand forward.

Rickart's sword pierced his palm, continued forward, and accurately pierced his neck.

"Kuh!"

Rickart pulled out the sword immediately as if there was no need to check his death, then swung it in the air to shake off the blood.

And throwing back the slightly disheveled cloak with one hand, he looked left and right as if checking if there was another guy attacking.

Two corpses lay sprawled on the ground, and despite the unexpected ambush, Rickart killed both skilled individuals and stood nonchalantly without any sign of panic. He didn't even bother to show off.

So admiration flowed out naturally from both enemies and allies. Even scripted acrobatics couldn't be done like this. Truly the pinnacle of skill.

"Wow......"

Even the friends who were running to help Rickart stopped and stared blankly. What just happened?

But there was a separate problem, which was Reinhardt, the leader of the Widowmaker Clan.

"Those cowardly sons of bitches!"

He seemed quite pissed off that they cowardly attempted an ambush in a sacred duel, dragging that huge club on the ground as he came down.

Although the ground didn't actually shake, he walked down thumping so heavily it felt like it did.

"Hey you bastard sons of bitches! Are you guys even men doing that!? Aren't you ashamed!? Huh!? What are you looking at! Fuckers!"

Since the sun had already set and it was dim all around, his presence was extraordinary due to his loud voice. And as the leader stepped forward, his subordinates also flocked down following him.

Rickart was momentarily flustered. Wait, this doesn't seem right. Who is guarding the defense tower?

At that moment, there were people rushing at Rickart. Those who harbored vain dreams that if they killed Rickart, they would soon take the vacant seat among the Empire's 9 Swords.

But since each had such thoughts, they were competitors, not on the same side.

"Move! Move aside!"

"I'm first!"

Rickart scanned all directions quickly once again, then rushed at them instead. Moving obliquely to the outskirts, he swung his sword under the dim evening light.

Whish!

A sound of tearing air was heard as Rickart's sword and the opponent's weapon crossed. The opponent's weapon cut the empty air, and Rickart severed the opponent's armpit tendon.

The enemy's arm dangled, not completely cut off.

"Aaaack!"

However, from this point on, enemies attacked in desperation, and got tangled among themselves.

At that time, Reinhardt, coming down the highland thumping, swung his club widely and smashed an enemy.

"Bastards who don't even know shame!"

Thwack!

It was an attack that crushed everything regardless of weapon or armor with immense weight. After killing one enemy, he swung the club left and right with a whoosh.

Superficially, it looked like he was just swinging wildly, but it was so powerful that enemies couldn't approach rashly.

At that moment, Reinhardt's subordinates rushed in a swarm toward the enemies flinching back.

"Fuckers!"

"If you don't want to make your wives widows, fuck off!"

"Long live Widowmaker!"

The number of people on the Beringen Guild side was far fewer than the enemies, but the situation was half a mess and it was a dark evening, so there was no way to know what was what.

Over a hundred enemies were divided into people rushing at Rickart, people running away pushed by the Widowmaker Clan, and people just watching from a distance.

Among them, the most absurd sight was the bastards rushing at ally corpses to loot equipment. Did they calculate to make money regardless of who won or lost the guild war?

Everyone just did what they wanted, so it was utter chaos. Rather than a battle, it was just a gang fight between people holding sharp weapons.

But amidst that, enemies with quick wits tried to occupy the defense tower taking advantage of the confusion.

Rickart accurately captured that movement even amidst the difficulty of distinguishing directions.

Since the enemies rushing at him were tangled among themselves and couldn't attack properly, there wasn't much to worry about.

But the enemies rushing up aiming for the defense tower were a clear threat.

"I'm fine! Block the defense tower!"

Honestly, Rickart didn't know where his friends were either. Because the sun had set and the surroundings darkened rapidly.

Amidst the confusion, Rickart quickly grasped the battle situation. It wasn't a situation that could be settled by tearing Reinhardt apart now. It was too late to go back to guard the defense tower.

So, he just jumped toward the enemies. Since all directions were dizzy with darkness, he swung his sword as they came. Enemies' arms were cut, sides were slashed, and heads flew off.

The enemies couldn't distinguish ally from foe, and didn't know by whom they were cut and killed.

"Fuck!"

"Aaaaaaaack!"

"Who is it! Move aside!"

In that gap, Rickart broke through the enemies and sprinted down the highland.

Meanwhile, Bori-bori accurately distinguished Rickart's voice even amidst the noise. So he blocked the narrow path leading to the defense tower and stood firm.

Bori-bori's weakness was that since his swordsmanship was based on writing letters, his steps were not light and thus his space utilization had to be passive.

But the fight standing fixed was truly terrifying.

As expected, he swung his sword at a fast speed toward the enemy rushing at him. The sword imbued with mana left pitch-black afterimages darker than the night.

Then with sounds of swish swish, tack tack, sounds of a butcher chopping and slicing meat were heard.

Human heads and limbs fell thud, thud in front of Bori-bori.

Bori-bori slowly retreated while calmly swinging his sword, and enemies, unaware of the chopped corpses fallen at their feet, tripped on them and fell in a heap.

"Bori-bori! Bori-bori of 'Five Body Dismemberment'!"

Someone shouted. He was resentful why everyone made nicknames like this, but a nickname wasn't something the person concerned could help. Since it was attached by others.

But there was one problem. Enemies rushing from the front could be dealt with somehow, but enemies throwing iron weights or nets from a distance were a problem.

Even looking like this, since they were people with some reputation in their own neighborhoods, their skill handling various weapons was never beginner level.

Bori-bori ended up getting hit on the fingers holding the sword by an iron weight.

Crack!

"Ugh!"

The index and middle fingers of the right hand broke at once. Bori-bori gritted his teeth and applied strength to the remaining hand and fingers, fortunately not letting go of his sword. However, he couldn't display his full skill like this.

"Bori!"

It was Marie's voice. It wasn't visible where she was, blocked by enemies. It seemed she was beyond them.

"I'm fine!"

He shouted he was fine though he wasn't fine. He had to inform them that his life was attached so allies wouldn't be shaken. Besides, he didn't get hit in a vital spot, and if he fought gritting his teeth, he could endure somehow.

Clang! Clang! Ka-ang!

Sounds of sharp weapons clashing were heard from near and far. Screams of someone dying were also heard intermittently.

Breath became short, and lights flashed like fireflies here and there in the dark night.

The identity of that light was traces of the fight by people who knew how to handle mana at a high level. Even if they weren't Sword Masters, they were capable of injecting mana into weapons to some extent.

It seemed some situation sorting was happening centering on those people, and Marie was among them.

When they struck the defenseless rear of enemies trying to climb up to the defense tower, from then on enemies split left and right in a swarm.

Since it wasn't a pre-planned operation, nor was the fighting spirit that strong, judging it went wrong, they scattered in all directions and ran down the highland in a swarm.

In the narrow path, chopped corpses were piled up to knees, and Marie barely joined Bori-bori.

"Are you okay?"

"Fi-fingers are a bit. Ricky?"

"I don't know......"

"He'll be fine."

Bori-bori said with conviction. Marie wondered how he could be so sure, but now there was urgent work separately.

"Let's do first aid first."

"Yeah."

The two walked toward the defense tower for now. But just then, flames soared up from down below the highland. Both of their heads turned sharply toward that direction automatically.

The one who set the fire was Rickart. As a melee situation unfolded, he carried out his own best move in that situation.

Anyway, since friend and foe couldn't be distinguished, Rickart jumped into the enemy camp and burned living supplies.

He ambushed and killed enemies who were resting in the make-shift camp far from the fight, thinking 'we'll be fine', then set fire randomly with nearby bonfires or torches.

The fire grew in an instant, illuminating the Kaitz Highlands instead of the sun. The reddish firelight with a sense of incongruity reached the middle of the highland, illuminating the mess hidden in darkness.

Enemies fighting on the highland took a big psychological hit from the suddenly soaring flames. Regardless of whether their numbers were large or small, the thought that there was nowhere to return suddenly struck them.

Moreover, most of the corpses sprawled here and there were allies no matter how they looked at it. If it was dark and they didn't know, it might be better, but seeing it with their eyes, they suddenly got scared. Are we losing?

But Rickart was coming back up to the highland holding a sword. He walked up slowly without running.

What was surprising was that he didn't ambush and hide in darkness to return secretly, but boldly walked up there while numerous enemies were clearly watching.

The red cloak fluttered. So his physique looked bigger too. The shadow under Rickart's feet grew like a giant and fluctuated wildly.

Rickart gasped for breath. He calculated like a machine how many more enemies he could kill with his remaining stamina. Accordingly, dozens of tactics came to mind.

Thoughts like 'that guy is clumsy', 'that guy is somewhat skilled', 'that guy has little stamina left', 'if I fight dodging to the right I can utilize the side advantage', spun tight like a machine.

Moreover, even though he was not conscious of things like enemies' weapons, or the condition of weapons, they entered his eyes and were inputted.

Rickart looked at enemies with eyes deeply immersed in thoughts that were neither fear, nor courage, nor madness.

Then, in the eyes of those standing helplessly looking at Rickart standing there, such a Rickart didn't look human at all. Because an unexplainable aura was felt. This bastard is not human.

Then someone ran away first. Starting with that, everyone ran away without looking at others.

Rickart, who was climbing the highland, just stood there looking around here and there as if examining the scene when enemies in front ran away.

Corpses were sprawled around Rickart, and terrifying flames burning below illuminated Rickart.

Like a directed scene, to those watching from afar, it was terrifying beyond measure. A giant shadow seemingly dancing in excitement.

Dead people fallen, people running away, and the person standing alone. That difference was stark.

Reinhardt also saw Rickart from afar. He was also almost bathed in enemies' blood, but Rickart's appearance reminded him of when he first saw Steiner.

In the world, things that aren't human wander around. Humans cannot kill monsters. Only the same monster kills a monster. Reinhardt thought so.

In the end, that red-cloaked boy was also not human.

But in Rickart's eyes, the surrounding scenery was familiar. No, it was a familiar scenery he had forgotten for a moment.

Fire and steel, blood, and death. All of that was visible to the eyes, and felt by smell too. Past and present overlapped.

Perhaps because he was tired, Rickart's ears were muffled. Other sounds weren't heard well, only the pounding heartbeat sound and breathing sound were heard loudly.

It felt like a hand suddenly rising from the abyss grabbed his ankle and pulled him. Into deep water, or into the past.