Chapter 21 – The knight of the past (2)
Brendel swung his sword to parry the white fang, and a blast of wind sprang from the points where the blades connected, driving his hair back in a fluttering mess. He did not resist the force and slid backwards with his eyes narrowed from the pain from his hands.
His skin had ripped and the blood was starting to flow onto the sword’s hilt. While he had not received any apparent injuries from the opponent’s blade, the images on his retina had repeatedly flashed, and his HP bar had dropped by over thirty points.
[Beyond the apparent wounds from my hands, this means that my internal organs are starting to get damaged. Any more of this impact will mean that they will get ruptured. Internal bleeding is going to happen… If it’s not for my high Physique, I wouldn’t be able to receive even one blow from Ebdon and die from the impact.]
But what made him anguished was the fact that Ebdon seemed to have realized that as well. Its timing for each strike had shortened and was becoming stronger as well, not giving him a chance to even breathe for a moment.
[Doesn’t this bastard care about his own troops? I won’t be able to last if this continues, but your entire army is getting wiped out! Do you really think you’re stronger than the entire army here?]
But he did not know that ridiculous thought was the closest to reality. Even though Ebdon was considered as a hero of Aouine, but it had become twisted after he had woken up as an undead. Even though most undead did not retain their memories before they died, Ebdon managed to retain most of its glorious moments and often revel in them. As an undead, it saw through the memories like another person, and the bloodbath in the battles made it merciless.
Ebdon was destined to become a Madara high ranking general due to its great insight, and sought only to kill the most dangerous enemies. And in front him, was an excellent commander whose threat was greater than the entire army combined. It would forsake the chance at victory just to kill the youth.
But Brendel’s performance had greatly exceeded its expectations. As a master of Aouine’s swordsmanship, it was able to discern that Brendel had learn some of the most basic military swordsmanship with probably one or two imperial sword artes. Even though his skills appeared to be no better than an imperial guard, he had defended against its attacks time after time without fail.
Ultimately, it could only choose to utilize its overpowering strength and slowly torture him to death. This was difficult for it to accept as this method was despicable, but it had sworn another oath to the undead and chose to throw his honor—
Ebdon knew that any other undead would choose to do the same.
“May Mother Marsha bless Madara.” The undead knight’s flames in its eyes were cold as the unforgiving sword threatened to cleave Brendel into two.
But as soon the blade went down, Brendel had rolled to the sides, as if he knew that it was going to attack him before hand. The White Fang in its hands could only slam into the ground, inching past Brendel every time. The times when Brendel were unable to dodge in time, would be parried away in a bizarre manner by using his unrefined skills.
This scene was beyond Ebdon’s imagination. The flames in its eyes flashed uncontrollably. This was the third time it changed to to another sword technique. At first it used its most familiar technique — Aouine’s military swordsmanship, then it switched to Aouine’s imperial swordsmanship, but Brendel seemed to be able to see through all of them. It thought that he had the advantage of having the same country’s swordsmanship, so he switched to Madara’s Black Cross swordsmanship, but Brendel did not show any signs of being unfamiliar, and seemed to predict its attacks even more accurately…….
But it did not know that Brendel was only familiar with Aouine’s military swordsmanship to approximately level thirty. In his long journey, he had seen hundreds of different sword skills, be it a common or high level technique, but if there were two that he was the most familiar with—
They would be the Paladin’s swordsmanship and Madara’s undead Black Cross swordsmanship. The reason was simply because he had used the Paladin’s swordsmanship the longest in the game, and fought against the undead for decades and had seen the Black Cross swordsmanship the most.
However, under the opponent’s higher stats in both agility and strength, he had no chance to even counter attack. And he even had trouble capturing the opponent’s movements, and was relying on his experience to predict where the enemy would attack.
[Damn it… My stamina is nearing half my bar. If that happens my strength and reactions will drop, and if it falls to a third, I might not even be able to put up a proper stance. This battle hasn’t even been three minutes yet—]
Brendel’s forehead was already covered in sweat. Under Ebdon’s constant push, he gradually started to lose the ability to think about anything else. At first he was still able to observe the battlefield once in a while, but with each percentage of his stamina gone, he nearly had to use all his focus to avoid Ebdon’s attack every time.
The number of times the swords met had increased.
It was like an endless cycle that spiraled into disaster. If he had to cross swords with Ebdon, he would feel exhausted and bruised each time, and with that exhaustion find it impossible to dodge its attacks.
He was already grinding his molars to hold on desperately. The current situation was no different from being sentenced to death. He had to squeeze very last potential from his spent body escape from death each time, and his body screamed and begged to let it rest, causing him to want to give up entirely.
And yet each time when he wanted to do so, the faces of everyone that he led would suddenly appear in the corner in his heart, making it boil in his chest to continue resisting the enormous undead before him — and dodged to the sides.
He had blinked for a moment when he got up, but when he opened them, what entered his eyes was a field of dark snow. His senses was suddenly on full alert, as the skin on his scalp seemed to be numbed.
Ebdon had used his full strength to bring down Brendel. The Silver-ranked abilities showed themselves as a white flame burst forth to the front of him in the shape of a crescent. A few moments later, the boulders in the mountain valley broke and started rolling down.
This sword had reached to nearly a hundred and fifty feet, cutting the walls of the mountain valley.
The freezing winds blew past the current area as the army fell into a voiceless silence.
Everyone in the army was terrified. They had heard stories about the prowess of the Silver-ranked fighters, but they have never seen it with their own eyes. This was almost unachievable by human strength, and everyone felt impressed and frightened from the bottom of their hearts.
The mercenaries who were nearer to Brendel froze for a moment, unable to believe that Brendel was fighting a monster like this for so long.
Brendel had not even sought for help, and they suddenly realize that he was desperately trying to fulfill the promise to everyone of them. They had always thought that he had effortlessly solved every situation, but he had actually been trying to complete it to the very best of his abilities.
What were they doing, wasting time with these undead?
“Shit! Has anyone seen Brendel?”
“We need to help him out now!”
“Do you think he’s still alive after that strike!”
The mercenaries that blindly trusted in Brendel, suddenly felt they truly belong to him as a commander.
Ebdon sheathed his sword with a clear ring.
Freya had rode from the side to find Brendel, but she was too late when she finally found them. After that attack, it seemed like everything had ended.
Freya dropped her sword onto the ground with a clank. She almost could not believe her eyes. The youth who brought her out of Bucce and showed off the world to her, this shameless cad…
Was gone forever?
She suddenly felt someone patting on her shoulder, and she turned her head back in a daze. Ciel looked at the area below them, his eyes not blinking:
“Miss Freya, if I’m still here, it means that my lord isn’t dead yet.”
“Wh……at?” She paused for a moment, not able to understand the entire meaning of his sentences.
But at least she understood part of it —
Because she saw a familiar figure climbing out from a pile of broken rocks.
Brendel felt his entire body was about to fall apart. His shirt had been ripped apart from the wind pressure and his forehead was full of blood, and there were countless wounds on his body. (TL: I can imagine the fanservice. Sort of.)
But he suppressed the pain and grinned.
“You bastard, to think that you would underestimate me at this final moment—“