Chapter 412 |
Encrid lifted his head towards the falling rain.
The rain, falling with a steady pitter-patter, washed away the blood that clung to his body. It felt like it was embracing his weary form, offering comfort.
It reminded him of the feeling he sometimes got when holding Esther in his arms as he slept. It was similar to that.
‘Did Esther do something?’
It seemed that way. The Count’s reaction and the demon’s words made it clear.
The rain didn’t stop, though it grew heavier.
Rainwater pooled on the ground, washing away the blood and forming light streams.
He had cut through ten thousand specters to strike down the Count.
It sounded simple when said like that, but it was far from a simple task.
Encrid caught his breath in the downpour and gathered up the broken half of Silver.
He then moved his creaking body as he looked at the corpse of the fallen Count.
Audin, too, finally began to move, freed from the paralysis caused by the curse.
“Well done, brother.”
“You too.”
It was a plain exchange. Audin walked over to the fallen Count, step by step. He knelt on one knee and clasped his hands in prayer.
It was a priest’s duty to offer prayers for the dead.
Even if their life had been full of sin, he hoped they would remain by the Lord’s side and be given a chance for repentance.
“May you stay by the Lord’s side and receive his teachings.”
The God Audin believed in took pleasure in punishing sinners. His teachings were more akin to beating someone with fists.
The Lord’s hands and feet would help the sinner in their repentance—or so it was said.
“May you find peace there.”
Would he really?
Encrid thought as he listened.
Ragna stood up, swaying slightly. Though he didn’t groan, his body was far from normal.
He had pushed himself too far.
His sword was broken, and most of the protective gear wrapped around his body had been torn or shattered.
Luckily, there was no one left to mock him for it.
Jaxon also had a hole in his stomach. Yet his face remained calm. He was slowly pushing himself off the ground with his hands.
“It’s over.”
When he spoke, there was a faint sense of mixed emotions. It was rare for him to reveal any feelings.
Did he want to deliver the final blow himself?
Maybe.
The rain kept falling. Encrid looked at Rem, who was still sitting there, unable to get up on his own.
Rem, in turn, looked back at Encrid.
Why aren’t you getting up?
Encrid asked with his eyes. Rem, after much hesitation, finally opened his mouth.
“Captain.”
“What?”
“Grant me the honor of carrying me.”
He was saying he couldn’t walk on his own.
“You can’t walk after that much?”
Ragna, apparently unable to hold back, chimed in.
“Weakling?”
Jaxon added his own remark.
“Seems like someone didn’t train enough.”
Audin’s concern echoed loudly.
“The Captain will be grateful to me, so I’m just giving him the chance.”
Of course, none of their words could penetrate Rem’s thick skin.
Encrid couldn’t fully understand the situation, but he knew Rem had pushed himself harder than anyone.
In fact, that was the truth.
Even before the battle formation had been established, Rem had used a spell, one that borrowed power from another source.
It was one of the most dangerous things to do in sorcery.
It was akin to stealing another’s wishes.
What Rem had done was forcibly use a totem crafted by the Madman of Immortality for his own purposes.
The backlash from such reckless usage was inevitable.
On top of that, he was the central mediator of the battle formation. It was more taxing than even Audin’s role as the foundation.
It was no wonder his body was screaming in pain.
If he forced his body to endure the damage, he could stand up and walk, but Rem didn’t particularly want to.
He figured he’d done enough to deserve being carried.
‘Besides, it could be fun.’
He was also eager to recover his strength quickly. He had watched Encrid’s final strike, the one that had cut down the Count.
‘If I recover quickly, I can spar with him again sooner.’
Rem, who had slowly become more like Encrid, also wanted to cross swords with him.
He wanted to do it properly, with a fully healed body. So, he was determined to be carried.
Despite his calm tone, Rem’s eyes were burning with determination. His desire to be carried seemed strong enough to evaporate the rain around him.
“Does my body look fine to you?”
Encrid asked calmly.
“Better than me.”
Rem responded confidently.
Truly, a crazy bastard.
Even so, Encrid was about to carry him. After all, Rem had earned it.
Fortunately, there was no need to carry him himself.
“I’ll carry him.”
When did they arrive?
It was Dunbachel and Teresa. The two had run over, catching their breath.
Dunbachel stepped forward.
“Go ahead.”
Rem didn’t argue. In truth, it didn’t matter who carried him.
Dunbachel hoisted Rem onto her back, and Encrid roughly gathered up their surroundings. The rain continued to fall.
Encrid and his companions began walking back toward the allied camp.
The path through the specters hadn’t been as long as they had thought. It had seemed like a long way when they were cutting their way in, but now, on the way back, it felt short.
The enemy was silent, and the allies even more so. They walked back down the same path they had carved out with their own hands.
Everyone watched them.
But Encrid and his party didn’t care about the stares of others.
Up ahead, Krang approached.
He was soaked to the bone from the rain, but he didn’t look like a drenched rat.
He wasn’t smiling, nor was he reveling in the victory.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking just from his expression. His pupils were trembling slightly. While his attitude and face remained composed, the emotions in his eyes were not so easily concealed.
Just before the Count died, the soldiers were fighting not only against the specter possessed soldiers but also against the spirits trying to take over their own bodies.
They fought and fought, held on and endured.
‘When will this end?’
Their physical limits were reached.
‘Maybe dying would be easier.’
Their mental limits were at breaking point.
Their strength and willpower had reached their end, and the specter soldiers, seemingly without fear, continued to charge endlessly.
These creatures did not differentiate between Kingdom soldiers or the Count’s forces.
In the face of this wave of spirits, the two armies mixed and fought together.
Even those who had performed heroically were nearing their limits.
Meanwhile, the soldiers were plagued by horrific nightmares and illusions.
“Die, die, die, die, die.”
But that wasn’t a nightmare or illusion. It was the sight of those battling Count Molsen.
Esther’s spell had influenced the battle, and it intertwined with the Count’s incantations, creating a bizarre situation.
Most of the soldiers present had witnessed Encrid’s fight.
Marcus had seen it too.
‘Win.’
He silently urged.
Asia had also seen it, clenching her fist.
‘I should have been there!’
Still, he couldn’t withdraw just yet. Even though some shepherd nobody was making a name for himself, if he left, the prince would be in danger.
Unlike Asia, Dunbachel and Teresa ran into action as soon as they assessed the situation. They were the ones who needed to be there, whether it was as human shields or to deliver a surprise strike.
Andrew couldn’t move. Esther had yet to wake up, and he had decided his duty was to guard this place.
So, he could only watch.
The soldiers didn’t even have the strength to shout in victory.
“Hah…”
Most of them collapsed, coughing up their breath. Even those who had held on until now sat down where they stood.
They didn’t have the energy to cheer for their victory. Their bodies became soaked as the rain continued to fall.
At least the rain was falling. That was something to be thankful for.
It almost felt like the aura of the specters clinging to their bodies was being washed away.
And, in fact, that was true. It was because of what Esther had done.
In the real world, Esther had already understood what had happened.
The Count had tried to summon the realm of spells into this land, but was that even possible?
No, it wasn’t. The demon’s power had intervened, but in the end, it had been a foolish act.
Even if the Count had succeeded, that wretched wizard would have been possessed and repeatedly committed more idiotic acts.
For example, he would have turned all the Kingdom’s citizens into test subjects, just like he had with the chimera.
Perhaps he would have done something even worse.
That’s the nature of a demon’s whispers.
Since she couldn’t dispel every single curse imbued with the demon’s power, Esther had used the majority of her spells to make it rain.
During that process, the soldiers probably saw visions of the Count.
Esther had seen it too.
That madman who had cut down the Count and nearly the demon as well.
Esther felt the need to tell them just how dangerous the demon had been.
Meanwhile, Krang, watching Encrid’s battle, muttered silently to himself.
His hands weren’t sweating. He was simply waiting.
There was nothing he could do in this moment.
Did that make him feel powerless?
No. He had his own stage.
This was just the moment for his friend to take the spotlight.
So, all Krang could do was trust. Trust, and trust again.
‘I believe in you.’
His faith wasn’t betrayed.
His trust was rewarded.
As the rain poured down, the specters vanished. Krang stepped forward amidst the soldiers who had survived. Without a word, he walked out.
“Lord?”
Marcus called after him, but he didn’t stop. Krang only halted when he stood face-to-face with Encrid, who was walking back. After a brief pause, he spoke.
“Praise the hero who saved us.”
His voice was low and quiet.
Marcus, who had followed behind him, agreed with the sentiment.
And he wasn’t the only one.
Asia, limping behind, also nodded in agreement.
Looking at Encrid, Krang took a deep breath and put strength into his voice.
Apparently, his voice had been too soft.
“Praise the hero who saved us!”
His voice rang out. It was one of Krang’s specialties: a shout that erupted with force from his chest.
“Ugh.”
One soldier lifted his head, crying, as the rain drenched his face.
“Uooooh!”
“We survived!”
“For the hero!”
“For the Mad Company!”
The shouts mixed and became a jumbled mess of unintelligible words.
It was a cry so powerful that it felt as if the rain itself might scatter widely. Such was the fervor.
At the center of that fervor, an old Commander was displeased with the disorganized shouting.
Had they not all witnessed it?
The Count transforming into a demon and the hero who had cut him down.
With all his heart, the Commander shouted.
“Everyone, repeat after me!”
Many soldiers followed him. He was a great leader who had shown how to endure even in the face of an overwhelming assault by specters.
He was undoubtedly a hero to them as well.
“Demon Slayer!”
The slayer of demons.
Spread the fame of the one who cut down the demon!
At the Commander’s words, the surrounding soldiers shouted as well.
“Demon Slayer!”
Their chant quickly spread to those around them.
“Demon Slayer!”
“The slayer of demons!”
The rain continued to fall. At first, it had responded to Esther’s magic, but now it was the rain that was naturally meant to fall.
In other words, there were no bright rays of sunlight, just a sky covered in dark clouds.
Yet, everyone saw something shining.
If the person who killed a demon, banished the specters, and ended the war didn’t shine, then who would?
“Demon Slayer!”
If the demon, who wasn’t actually dead, heard this, it would probably grind its sharp fangs in frustration at such a title.
Encrid, listening blankly to all of this, remarked,
“I didn’t actually kill the demon.”
“Technically, ‘Noble Slayer’ would be more accurate.”
Rem added, sticking to the facts.
“Or ‘Demon’s Servant Slayer’ to be precise.”
Audin chimed in.
From a religious standpoint, the nature of their opponent was clear. At least, it was in Audin’s view.
“Does it matter?”
Ragna dismissed all the nonsense with his calm remark.
As usual, Jaxon remained silent.
Dunbachel, for a moment, considered how severe Rem’s revenge would be if she threw him off her back, but decided against it.
Teresa, deep down, agreed with Audin.
Krang, finally, showed a gentle smile.
Each one of them was deserving of the title ‘Hero’.
And by the time they had reached the Capital, everyone knew just how crazy these guys were.
‘They’re all equally mad.’
Krang smiled as he thought this.
Encrid nodded calmly, not reading Krang’s thoughts but convinced that he was the most sane of them all.
“Thanks, you biggest lunatic.”
But Encrid almost lost his composure at Krang’s next words. He had been ready to fight again when the Count had transformed into a demon, but this left him speechless.
Who was the biggest lunatic?
“You’ve become a hero who saved the nation.”
Krang continued, bowing his head. A gesture of utmost respect from the Prince, the future King.
And the surrounding soldiers were all watching.
Encrid was utterly exhausted.
He didn’t have the energy to care about princes or anything else.
“Enough.”
He gripped the Prince’s shoulder and pulled him up. He had done his job. The praise filled his heart with pride, and Krang’s respectful demeanor wasn’t bad either.
But there was one thing he had to ask.
“Why am I the biggest lunatic?”
There’s Rem, after all.
Krang burst out laughing at his friend’s question.
“Hahaha, let’s go. Eat, drink, and rest. You can even bankrupt the royal treasury if you want!”
Amid the cries of ‘Demon Slayer!’, the shouts of survival and victory echoed.
The once-enemy soldiers of the Count’s army quietly laid down their weapons.
The civil war was over.
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