It is said that a single Knight can replace a thousand soldiers.
Then what will you do if the enemy numbers ten thousand?
The Count decided to regard his opponent as a Knight and resolved to kill them. Thus came the legion of ten thousand specters.
'Die.'
Become fertilizer.
Become nourishment.
Become prey.
And so, become part of me.
The effect of the Count's magic circle was singular. It was to manifest his world of spells into reality.
As a result, the specters gained physical bodies, becoming specter soldiers.
They were waves advancing, formed of blackened soot.
The specters, now a black wave, would rise even after falling, pushing forward relentlessly.
"Grrroooaaar."
It was a mass of creatures letting out terrifying howls intermittently.
They had no formation, just clumped together randomly and charged.
Because of that, they couldn't be fast.
It wasn't an orderly military advance, it was like a chaotic mass rolling toward them.
Encrid, watching them, thought they resembled a swarm of ants.
Of course, each of those ants was the size of a human, so being swept away by them would mean death.
Would he be the only one to die?
The soldier behind him, now furiously scratching his arm, would die too.
"Mother! Mother! Where are you going?!"
The soldier shouting into thin air, as if seeing hallucinations, would die too.
"Magenta, I shall join you soon."
The soldier miming strangling himself in a sudden fit of depression would also die.
It was a complete mess. Whether it was the Count's spell or a curse, whatever trickery he used had worked.
Not everyone was affected. There were still some sane soldiers.
"Hey. Where are you going, you idiot? Magenta is my sister. She didn't do anything with you and she's alive and well."
One of the sane soldiers slapped the hand of the soldier pretending to strangle himself.
"What is this, what's happening?"
Another soldier, bewildered, looked around in confusion. His demeanor reflected his disbelief.
He must have been wondering why everyone else was acting so strangely when he was unaffected.
Encrid didn't know the exact nature of the Count's spell, but he understood the situation well enough.
Though the spell encompassed the entire battlefield, if they moved far enough, they would no longer be affected by the soot.
The longer they stayed here, the more affected they would become.
With this level of influence and scale, wouldn't it disappear if they just killed the one responsible?
It was an instinctive realization.
There was no other solution but to push through and kill the one behind it all.
That was why they had to advance.
Rem, after seeing the specter horde, had ordered the formation.
"I refuse."
Ragna was the first to respond. As he spoke, he stumbled briefly, almost losing his balance.
Ragna's condition wasn't normal either. The excessive use of Willpower always puts strain on both body and mind.
"Brother, is something unholy stuck in your head? Shall I help you extract it?"
Audin, concerned, offered his assistance.
It seemed that Rem had fallen for the trick of the sorcerer ahead of them, and Audin was extending a kind offer of help.
Audin's body, having just cracked his knuckles, was also quite wounded.
Their opponent had not been easy to deal with.
Jaxon wouldn't have fared much better.
He had also failed in his earlier attempt to ambush the Count and paid the price.
A small hole had been made in his stomach. He had quickly applied ointment and wrapped it with a specially made bandage, but he wasn't in shape for a prolonged battle.
The wound wasn't good. Most of all, a cold sensation was creeping up from his abdomen.
The same went for Rem. He too was feeling nauseous from relying on someone else's sorcery.
Among them, Encrid was in the worst shape.
Though he hadn't taken any damage from using Willpower, he had pushed his body far too hard.
It was only natural.
In his fight against Lierbart, Encrid had pushed himself to the limit, using all his strength to face the monstrous muscles of the enemy.
He believed luck had been on his side.
If he hadn't managed to implement the Willpower-based technique known as 'Seeing a Step Ahead', he would likely have greeted the morning sun in the usual cycle of repetition.
Even as they spoke, the black wave continued to creep forward.
It looked like a tidal wave made of black oil, surging closer like an advancing tide. The mere sight of it stirred disgust.
Some of the specter soldiers, part of the wave, collapsed, rolling on the ground, but still clawed their way forward with their fingers.
Kill. Kill. The souls bore nothing but murderous intent.
Above them, a mass of specters, their limbs entangled, could be seen. The sight surpassed disgust and stirred nausea.
Though everyone spoke of refusal, it wasn't a situation where refusal was an option.
"Let's take the shortcut."
So, Encrid didn't add anything further, and Rem continued in a casual tone.
"The Captain goes first, I go second, and the slacker goes third. The stray cat and the religious fanatic will pull back and cover the rear."
It was a businesslike statement. Rem's explanation wasn't kind, but Encrid understood.
All the time spent learning from him hadn't been in vain.
"The three-wave formation?"
Encrid asked, and Rem nodded.
It was a name for a tactical formation they had once encountered.
A tactic employed by a collaboration of Centaur colonies and horse beasts.
The first wave draws attention, the second wave strikes, and the third wave breaks through.
Each wave grows stronger. What Rem intended now was for the three of them to rotate positions and repeat the three-wave formation.
"Let's go."
Encrid didn't hesitate. Even if he explained it a hundred times here and understood, there was no time to practice.
Above all, the specter horde was already right in front of them.
"Grrraaaa!"
It sounded like a ghoul roaring from the depths of a deep well.
"Real battle is the best training."
Encrid recalled the words Rem had once said as he swung Silver. He pivoted on his left foot and executed a downward strike with the Middle Sword Technique.
Whoosh.
The blade occupied the space and descended.
"Loosen up!"
Rem shouted from behind, but Encrid had already swung the sword.
Thud!
The head of the first specter that charged was caught by the blade and split in half.
Though it had limbs, its face lacked eyes, nose, or mouth, just a black mass of a creature.
As Encrid's sword split its head, black mist gushed out.
Dead. He could feel it.
Then the specter behind it attacked again. They didn't stop. What did it matter if the one in front of them died?
"To the left!"
Rem shouted. In front of Encrid, a specter was forming something resembling a sword and swinging it.
It wasn't an angle he could dodge by simply stepping to the side.
But he stepped aside anyway. Without a strong sense of trust, such a move would be impossible, yet Encrid boldly shifted his stance.
And then, from the right, a flash of light struck.
Bang! Squelch!
The sound of Rem's hammer crushing the specter's head echoed.
Following that, Rem swung the axe in his right hand horizontally with steady speed, parallel to the ground.
Slash! Crackle!
Rather than striking with power in a single motion, Rem pushed and sliced, causing the specter to split each time it was caught by the axe blade.
Even with just a glance, it was clear this was no ordinary skill.
Balancing his body, distributing weight through his core, and using the force from his legs pushing against the ground, Rem kept the axe moving.
With that, the axe blade didn't stop and kept advancing.
After two attacks, Rem also withdrew to the right.
A new group of specter soldiers filled the space Rem had vacated.
"Grrraaaarrr!"
Above the murderous screams, a jagged blade fell.
Of course, it was Ragna's sword.
Whoosh.
Ragna's sword, slicing vertically through space, cut through three specters that had fused together into one mass.
One of them reached out, trying to grab Ragna's collar, but the hand didn't reach. Ragna, swinging his sword, retreated.
"Again!"
Before Rem could shout, Encrid had already recognized and understood the rotation.
How many duels had they fought together by now?
Far beyond hundreds.
So he filled the vacant spot and blocked the front.
'Loosen up' meant to simply parry and receive the attacks.
In other words, retreating was more important than striking.
Having grasped the key, Encrid did just that. He held his sword grip lightly, using the form of the Fluid Sword Technique to slice, deflect, and push back the specters' heads.
One of the specters leaped upward, but from somewhere, a long rod came flying.
Whoosh, thud!
The flying rod pierced the specter and sent it flying backward.
It seemed someone was throwing spears. In fact, they had picked up a fallen spear and thrown it.
"Advance, Brother."
It was Audin's skill at work.
Behind Encrid's left, Jaxon's hand moved ceaselessly.
Gripping a longsword, he stabbed and sliced each specter that surrounded them from all sides.
The roles were clear.
Encrid and Rem held the front, while Ragna cut through the center.
Audin was the foundation that supported everything, and Jaxon filled any gaps by moving wherever needed.
With Audin and Jaxon securing the rear, the three in front only needed to focus on pressing forward.
The specter horde surrounded and descended upon Encrid and his group.
The world turned black. The sky vanished, leaving only darkness, but their keen senses allowed them to pinpoint each other's positions with precision.
Encrid relied on those senses.
So did the other four. At this level, there was no risk of accidentally cutting an ally.
Unless, of course, it was deliberate.
A specter's claw swung down, with its long nails extended and a tongue protruding between them. The tip of its tongue was sharp like a spear. It was an unusually shaped specter.
Rem's axe cut through the creature.
The diagonal slash of the axe blade split the specter's head at an angle.
As he watched the severed head, Encrid drew his Gladius and cut off the hand of another specter.
Thud!
It felt like hitting heavy mud rather than metal.
The hand caught on the Gladius was sliced off in a clump.
There was no need for further attacks. As Encrid shifted to the side, Ragna's sword moved.
Encrid stopped thinking and simply pressed forward.
The five of them moved as one, cutting through the waves of specters.
The ones most exhausted were Rem and Audin.
One served as the foundation, while the other maintained balance in the middle.
The five had fought each other countless times due to their bad blood. They had even physically fought several times.
The result of those fights was a series of duels, but they had also learned each other's habits that way.
Since not understanding each other's rhythm would lead to defeat, they had always given their best to figure it out.
Now, they moved in perfect sync.
Though it was their first time fighting together like this, it was no different from a group of Knights who had trained together for over a decade.
* * *
Krang saw it, as did Marcus.
Pel and Asia were also gripped by a sense of foreboding.
Anyone would feel a sense of dread upon seeing the black specters, the soot, and the sky covered by dark clouds.
Especially when they saw that the wave of specters had engulfed Encrid and his group.
It seemed like Encrid and that Mad Company of his were doomed.
At least on the surface, that's how it appeared.
"It's just a spell. It won't last long!"
Asia deliberately shouted, trying to sound calm. She was speaking as much to herself as to the others.
She was a Junior-Knight in the order.
Although she didn't use spells, she had plenty of experience facing sorcerers.
She forced herself to think logically and repeatedly.
How long could such a large-scale spell be sustained?
Not long.
That was correct. But even if the spell only lasted as long as a candle burned, both armies would suffer devastating losses, and the soldiers possessed by the specters would likely become something other than human.
Asia couldn't foresee all that.
"We need to break through and retreat."
She spoke.
Krang continued staring at the spot where Encrid had disappeared.
Could he really be dead?
"Damn it, Your Highness!"
Marcus shouted. The battlefield had descended into madness.
The Count was clearly possessed by something. Could a wizard really be capable of this?
Should they have summoned the Knights?
Pell gripped the Idol Slayer more tightly.
'Should I go in?'
He considered venturing into the wave of specters. It seemed possible.
No, the answer was to hold their position for now.
The specter horde was vast enough to spare more than enough to cover Encrid's group.
Having cut down one or two, Pel realized that the charging specters had no immunity to the Idol Slayer. If that was the case, he could simply cut them down one by one and fend them off.
Asia also had her Squires form a circle. Then she stepped forward.
She slashed left, spun her body, and thrust right. In two sword strikes, she killed two specters. Without time to even notice the creatures vomiting mist, Asia leaped back with a somersault.
It wasn't a feat one would expect from someone in plate armor, but her armor was partial, mostly consisting of a breastplate, which allowed her to perform such acrobatic movements.
Thud!
After dodging, a specter leaped up and crushed the spot where Asia had been standing.
Without a moment to catch her breath, Asia elbowed the specter soldier that had approached her.
Whack!
It felt like hitting a rock. Even the specter's body wasn't soft.
After hitting it, she used the momentum to drive her sword down on the opposite side. The added force from her vertical slash cut down another specter.
Asia felt a wave of dizziness.
'How long can I keep this up?'
If this was a battle of time, was enduring the right answer?
If Krang and those around him had somehow managed to hold on, it was because they weren't ordinary soldiers.
"Help me!"
"Aaaargh!"
The specter soldiers with physical bodies attacked the remaining sane soldiers.
Skill-wise, they weren't all that impressive, but the problem was their numbers.
They were relentless, never ceasing, continuously attacking. The specter soldiers knew no fear.
But where there's crisis, there's also opportunity.
Heroes began to emerge across the battlefield.
Those who revealed their true capabilities in moments of danger.
An old but experienced Commander stood strong.
A young but brave soldier showed courage.
They gathered the comrades around them and held the line.
But how long would they have to endure?
How long until they could survive?
A curtain of despair was falling. The dark clouds that blocked out the sun seemed to be a sign of their fate.
Would they die, possessed by specters? Or would they be torn apart and stabbed to death by the specter soldiers?
* * *
Encrid, in the darkness, lost awareness of himself and the situation, as he swung his sword over and over again.
'Tiring.'
It was so exhausting that the words came out naturally.
But it wasn't unbearable. The longer he fought, the more he learned to conserve energy. Instead of forcefully parrying, he twisted and deflected the attacks.
What he couldn't cover, Rem would handle.
And if Rem couldn't manage, Ragna would fill in.
Though they took two or three steps back at times, they advanced in the end.
If they took two steps back, they took three forward.
If they took three steps back, they gained four steps ahead.
The credit for adjusting their formation in the midst of battle went largely to Rem.
Encrid avoided the falling claws of the specters, deflecting them with his sword blade.
Deflect and strike. Normally, specters wouldn't be vulnerable to regular metal, but the fact that they had physical bodies created a weakness.
They could be killed with ordinary swords.
Encrid repeated the actions of thrusting and cutting, enduring and continuing to fight.
His surroundings were filled with nothing but darkness.
Black soot, waves of specter soldiers, just darkness. Black masses filled every corner, with murderous hands reaching out.
The whole world was filled with such things.
And yet.
"Ah."
A sigh of pleasure escaped him. He found satisfaction in being able to keep swinging his sword.
"Are you mad?"
Rem's voice came from somewhere in the midst of the chaos. He must have seen Encrid's face.
Was he seriously smiling in this situation?
Even as they fought and advanced, they didn't stop, and soon the surrounding darkness began to clear.
Encrid swung his sword once more into the air, then stopped. There were no more specters.
Well, there were. Behind them lay the countless corpses of specter soldiers, their bodies spilling misty blood like fog.
Only then did Encrid realize that they had cut through the heart of the ten thousand specters. He looked up.
There, sitting on a black chair, was the Count.
The Count glared at Encrid, his eyes wide open.
On the side of those who had fought through the fierce battle, there was a quiet and calm gaze.
Encrid, catching his breath, just stared back.
But the gaze of the one waiting was filled with confusion.
When humans face the inexplicable, their reactions are often the same.
"How?"
The Count was no different.
What had happened was beyond his understanding.
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