Chapter 899 - Forty to One (2)
To uphold one's resolve, oaths, and vows without wavering.
And the more arduous the situation endured, the more Will accumulates.
That was the essence of Cypress's ability.
But the cost was absolute: if he retreated even once, he would lose everything.
Although he had broken minor promises in his life, he had never lost a gamble of this magnitude.
Those who knew him well called him a natural-born gambler.
And this time, too, he had simply entered a gamble with high odds—at least by his standards.
'Forty.'
Forty knights.
Were they true knights?
Absolutely not.
'How long would they last inside the Demonic Realm? A month? Two months? Two months is out of the question.'
By Cypress's standards, the minimum was fifteen days.
Looking at them individually, could they even surpass that?
There were a few relatively skilled ones mixed in, but the overall level wasn't high.
However, they did have a singularity.
Cypress smelled a foul stench coming from them.
Since he wasn't a beastkin, he didn't literally smell it with his nose.
It was simply how his senses interpreted the warning.
'The smell of the Demonic Realm.'
It was a mixture of the scent of red-hot iron and the fishy reek of dried blood.
'What kind of things have they done?'
His thoughts were cut short.
He didn't have the luxury of overflowing leisure, so he couldn't dwell on it.
Today, like every other day, he would simply do his best.
He pulled back his sword hand and retrieved a hidden shield from his waist.
It was named the Wing Shield.
There was no deep meaning behind the name; it was simply called that because of how it looked.
After all, humans are the ones who name artifacts.
So the owner names it whatever they please.
Cypress gripped the rod-shaped tool in his left hand, swung it outward, and stopped.
Clack!
With that motion, thin metal plates resembling wings sprang out from the left and right sides of the rod.
It did resemble the spread wings of a pigeon.
Whatever the material was, it allowed light to pass through, letting him see blurry shapes beyond the shield.
Kwang!
A thick greatsword slammed onto the unfolded shield.
Cypress deflected the blow, letting it slide off, and struck the opponent's chest with the edge of the shield.
Since it was shaped like a wing, the edge was as sharp as a blade.
Immediately, a spearhead shot out from beside the greatsword wielder, striking the edge of the shield.
But all of this—blocking with the shield—was bait.
Cypress relaxed the hand holding the shield, swirled his Will, and poured it into Resolve, held in his right hand.
'Change.'
He could alter the nature of his Will at will.
The Will that had been flowing flexibly like water suddenly hardened like steel.
This change affected only a specific part of his body—the extending arm and the force behind the sword.
That was all.
If anyone could have peeked into his internal will flow, they would have been astounded by this stunt.
Specifically, for two reasons.
One was the ability to change the nature of Will and apply it only to a specific part.
The other was the perfect timing, using it exactly when needed.
He used the opening created by the shield bash to thrust his sword.
Puk!
With that, a hole appeared in another man's neck.
Blood gushed out before stopping abruptly.
The man, having tightened his neck muscles to stop the bleeding, didn't even look back as he charged forward, throwing his body at Cypress.
He intended to restrict Cypress's movement even with his dying body.
Cypress moved sideways the moment he stabbed.
A spear grazed his flank.
He accepted the minor damage.
By doing so, the threat vanished before it could truly begin.
The charging man ended up rushing into empty air.
After that, he was too busy to continue any train of thought.
He forgot himself, forgot the present, leaving only the sword and the opponent.
His vision narrowed, and he simply repeated the swordsmanship engraved in his body over a lifetime.
Dodge, block, strike, remove.
Every single movement was the accumulation of his years, his experience, his will, his oath, and his vow.
Like that, he fought against forty from a single spot.
Blood sprayed constantly.
It was difficult to kill all forty without overexerting himself.
He knew that from the start.
So, he overexerted himself.
Small wounds multiplied all over Cypress's body.
The edges of his cloak were torn, and flames ignited on the fabric—a characteristic of a cloak made from Sun Beast fur.
Using the rising flames to his advantage, he stomped on the foot of the enemy next to him.
He heard no sound.
He just moved for the next task.
His dense concentration stole away his hearing.
It stole his vision, too.
He didn't see; he felt everything.
Looking a split second into the future, he struck and swung his sword incessantly.
Thanks to the advantage gained by the flames, he managed to cut another throat.
It was the result of stomping the foot and swinging the sword in the opposite direction.
The man with the crushed foot rolled backward to dodge.
A new blade filled that empty space instantly.
The helmets were all identical, but the body types were different.
Cypress's concentration recognized that difference.
The one wielding a greatsword hid his weapon behind his back before swinging it.
A brutal, heavy strike.
Was he asking to see if Cypress could dodge this too?
Cypress had no intention of dodging.
Instead, he swung his sword.
Kagagagak!
Sparks flew, and another head went flying.
Cypress's Resolve split the opponent's greatsword in half and sliced through part of the head as well.
If the area above the right cheekbone is cut off and 30% of the head is lost, even a knight dies instantly.
There was no scream.
Just one more corpse added to the pile.
Cypress repeated the fight.
Ruminating on the past, living the today, he swung his sword towards the tomorrow.
"Master."
The Crimson Cloak Knights knew the name of the person leading them.
They knew the weight that name carried.
'One who accomplishes anything,' 'One who manages somehow.'
Those were his aliases.
His prestige had not broken, nor had it faded.
He was still the guardian deity of Naurillia.
'I know that the present exists because you protected it.'
Krang, watching from afar, clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Though likely no one was paying attention to his fists right now.
Even those who came as escorts couldn't take their eyes off Cypress's fight.
"Don't interfere. I will really kill you all."
Even the barbarian whose hobby was spitting venom showed nothing but chilling killing intent towards the enemy.
Every time some of the forty tried to leave their positions, he flashed that killing intent.
Ragna placed his hand on Sunrise and spoke silently with his eyes.
It was an expression of will declaring that he would cut down anyone who tried something foolish.
The man standing in front right now was worthy of being called a hero.
A possessor of spirit who didn't retreat against forty knights.
"That is the Crimson Cloak."
Lien said with a smile.
His Master might die in this spot.
No matter how outstanding his skills were, if his head was cut off or his heart pierced, death was the same.
'I will think about that when the time comes.'
His thoughts were simple and honest.
To respect the Master's will.
Until now, the back of the person standing in front had been his milestone, his goal, and his life.
If he died keeping his vow, Lien would respect even that.
"No one take your eyes off him. Watch, remember, and engrave even one more thing."
Ingis was officially in charge of the Crimson Cloak Knights' training.
At his words, the entire knight order focused without even answering.
Ingis didn't expect an answer.
He, too, was focusing to see and remember even one more thing.
Aurelia felt anxious.
What if her choice was wrong?
'Saving the Master might have been the better choice.'
Of course, stepping forward was the Master's choice.
When he said he would face forty knights alone, she knew the meaning contained in that action.
"Do not waste power."
She seemed to hear her grandfather's voice.
"Prepare for what comes next."
No genius is complete without experience.
Aurelia's present self existed thanks to her grandfather's teachings and the experience accumulated by following him.
Therefore, she knew his will and his intent just by his actions.
Blood vessels stood out in Aurelia's eyes.
'But Grandfather.'
Something flashed white near her grandfather's shoulder and passed by.
With Aurelia's eyes, it was difficult to grasp the full direction of the fight.
However, she knew one thing.
No matter how great a knight was, numbers were not easily overcome.
Something grazed his shoulder, but blood didn't spurt out.
'Was he cut?'
Must have been.
And her grandfather must have stopped the bleeding as soon as he was cut.
His control over Will was incomparable to anyone else.
Yet, he looked precarious.
Perhaps they should pour out the remaining forces even now.
'Should we leave the forty and strike behind them?'
If even one person had fought alongside him, a result like this wouldn't have come out.
Her anguish deepened.
Every time a wound increased on her Master and grandfather's body, a choice arose.
Crossroads appeared endlessly, tangling in her head.
It wasn't just paths dividing; they twisted messily like a ball of yarn a child played with.
Aurelia knew her current state was as messy as that tangled yarn.
But she couldn't stop thinking.
Ominous imagination was like a galloping horse that accelerated and wouldn't stop.
'What should I do in times like this?'
Among the things she learned from her grandfather, nothing applied to this situation.
It was natural.
Some things must be learned through experience.
One knows only by experiencing and undergoing it.
Aurelia was simply undergoing such a process right now.
In that situation, a voice dug into her ears.
"Do nothing. The knight who stepped forward over there will crumble the enemy's heart and spirit by blocking forty knights alone."
It was Luagarne.
She didn't puff up her white cheeks or secrete oil from her skin.
Sometimes, seeing someone too outstanding makes the mind calm.
Like right now.
'Enkrid.'
She wanted to see the one who won her mental love as much as Shinar did.
'Right now, there is a man as crazy as you over there. Don't you want to encounter him? Don't you want to see? Don't you want to gauge your skills against him?'
Questions lingered in her mouth.
Twelve of the forty had died.
Yet the situation didn't improve.
Rather, it worsened.
Among the remaining twenty-eight, those even slightly injured pulled back.
That was four of them.
They wrapped bandages around their bodies and drank potions.
Treating and reorganizing.
The remaining twenty-four clumped into four groups of six.
Greatswords and spears were their main weapons.
They used spears for checking distance and didn't swing their greatswords unless it was a perfect opportunity.
No matter how outstanding a person is, they make mistakes.
They looked at the fight in the long term.
Waiting for the opponent to make even a very small mistake.
Even a person who has become a master at moving glasses full of alcohol spills a few drops sometimes.
They waited for those few drops to fall.
They didn't seem to have particularly sharp heads, but they were extremely accustomed to tactical movements.
It wasn't an ability acquired by training alone.
They had experienced situations similar to this very often.
The result was now.
The fight that started when dawn broke continued until twilight approached.
It was hard even to watch, so how would it be for the one fighting directly?
Cypress was exhausted, visible to anyone.
The moment he stepped on a stone where he placed his foot, his body balance shook for a moment.
The knight holding a greatsword swung it violently.
A guy who had been waiting for an opportunity.
With a sound tearing the air-, the falling greatsword split Cypress vertically as is.
It looked like that for a split second.
Parararak!
Cypress dodged with a breathtaking margin.
Violent wind rose due to the sword slash, and that wind fluttered his cloak backward.
And in the gap where the cloak obscured vision, the guy who swung the greatsword collapsed forward.
Rem, who was watching, was surprised this time too.
'I didn't even see it this time.'
He only felt the Will lingering on Cypress's whole body change for a split second.
And the opponent collapsed sideways bleeding from eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.
Kung.
The body, weighted by armor, sprawled on the floor making a heavy sound.
Cypress jumped sideways again.
The shield held in his left hand was broken here and there, becoming a wing with only half remaining.
"Heart Destruction."
Lien muttered.
A technique of placing a hand on the opponent's body and causing a vibration to burst internal organs.
Easy to say, but extremely difficult to execute, and one of his Master's specialties.
Lien himself specialized in martial arts but found it hard to mimic.
Did he say he created it by borrowing parts of original Paladin techniques?
Its purpose was to kill a sickeningly obsessed frog.
And the possessor of that sickening obsession was currently hiding in the ground, waiting only for an opportunity to ambush—a dagger no one on the battlefield had noticed.
***
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