Reincarnation of the magicless Pinoy!
From zero to hero. "No Magic?, No Problem!"
Encounter 26 : Giants
The war tent groaned under the weight of voices. The long table was cluttered with maps, tokens marking their fragile lines against the Demon King's relentless horde. Every so often, the ground shuddered, as if the monsters outside were reminding them that time was short.
Edric stood at the head, armor dented and spattered with blackened gore from the last battle. His mere presence filled the space, but tonight even his commanders dared to speak against him.
"My lord," one of them began, cautious but firm, "the request from young master Elian is clear. The Elroy dukedom bleeds. But if we split our forces now, we gamble with the lives of every man here. The Demon King's army presses harder each hour."
Another slammed a gauntleted fist against the table. "If the Demon King himself takes the field, even you cannot hold the line alone. To send aid now is to court disaster!"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the captains. Some nodded, others whispered anxiously.
Edric's gaze swept across them, sharp as drawn steel. The noise died. He let the silence hang like a blade above their necks before speaking, voice low and cutting.
"Do you mistake me for a man who hides behind numbers?"
The commanders froze.
Edric pressed his hands down on the maps until the wood creaked. His eyes burned with certainty, the kind that silenced all doubt.
"Demon King or not, I am more than enough to hold this line. You forget who I am."
He drew his sword from its stand. The blade, streaked with dried black blood, caught the lamplight like a shard of fire.
"I am Edric Grey. The Cinderfang's Bane. One of the Dragon Slayers."
The words slammed through the tent like a hammer. The commanders exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared reply.
Edric turned, voice steady, final.
"Sir Marcellus will ride with a detachment before dawn. They will reinforce Duke Elroy and my son. That is decided."
A younger captain opened his mouth to object, but Edric's glare cut him down before a word left his throat.
"Return to your posts," Edric ordered. "Hold the line. Let the beasts come. I will carve them down myself if I must."
The tent emptied in silence, the weight of his words following each man out into the night.
Left alone, Edric rested his sword against the table, staring at the bloodstained map. For a moment, his lips curled into the faintest trace of a smile.
"Hold on, Elian. You'll have your aid."
Meanwhile Marcellus and his riders are preparing for their departure.
The camp had quieted, save for the distant howls of beasts and the low thunder of war drums. A pale sliver of moon cut through the clouds, casting cold light over the rows of tents and the weary soldiers huddled by dying fires.
In the stables, Sir Marcellus tightened the last strap of his breastplate. His face, weathered by years of battle, was set in stone. Around him, two dozen knights readied their mounts in silence, their movements precise, no wasted motion. Armor clicked, leather groaned, horses snorted clouds into the frosty dark.
One younger knight glanced up, voice low. "Sir… riding now? Could we not wait for dawn?"
Marcellus looked at him, eyes hard as steel.
"Every heartbeat we wait is another life bled from Elroy's walls. We ride before the sun. Pray we arrive before their fires burn out."
No one questioned him again.
Torches flared to life as the small company gathered in the courtyard. Shadows danced along polished helms, casting them as grim silhouettes against the night. Marcellus swung into the saddle of his black destrier, the beast pawing the ground with restless power.
He drew his sword, raising it so the firelight glinted along its edge.
"Hear me! We march not for glory, nor coin. We march for duty. For Duke Elroy. For young master Elian. Until we stand beside them, not one of you falters."
The men struck their chests in salute, the sound like a single iron heartbeat.
Marcellus lowered his blade and pointed it toward the eastern road.
"Ride!"
Hooves thundered against the dirt, torches streaming like burning comets behind them. The company disappeared into the darkness, swallowed by the night. Their path was uncertain, every shadow a possible ambush, but none wavered.
Back at Siege of Elroy
The dukedom's walls groaned under the strain of endless impact. Smoke and ash curled into the night sky, blotting out the stars. The courtyard was chaos—soldiers rushing, wounded screaming, priests chanting hurried prayers over broken bodies.
From atop the battlements, Duke Elroy wiped grime from his brow, armor scorched and dented. The monsters had given them no rest. Hours had passed since the first wave, yet the forest still pulsed with eyes and growls.
"Brace the gate!" he bellowed as another horned beast slammed into the ironwood doors. The hinges shrieked, dust raining from the arch.
Elian stood beside him, blade drawn, breath misting in the cold night. His knuckles whitened around the hilt, but his eyes did not waver. He had been at the walls since dusk, refusing to leave even when urged.
A captain stumbled up, blood running down his temple. "My lord, the western barricade is breaking! Trolls are tearing through!"
Elroy's jaw clenched. "Send the reserves!"
"We have none left!"
Before Elroy could answer, the night split with a shriek—an abomination with wings like shredded sails swooped down, talons tearing men from the walls. It slammed into the courtyard, scattering corpses like dolls.
Elian leapt without hesitation, steel flashing. His blade found the creature's throat as it reared, ichor spraying hot across his face. The beast spasmed, thrashing against the cobbles before collapsing in a twitching heap.
"Fall back to the inner wall!" Elroy roared. His voice cracked like thunder, pulling men back from despair. "If they want our blood, they'll pay for every drop!"
From the treeline, new horrors surged—serpents of mist, armored trolls, and behind them, a silhouette so massive it seemed to blot out the moon. A giant twisted beast, its skin crawling with glowing cracks, molten light spilling through.
The men faltered at the sight.
Elroy tightened his grip on his sword, fatigue gnawing at his limbs. He turned to Elian, voice low and grim.
"Steel yourself, boy. If the walls fall tonight, we stand here."
Elian nodded, sweat and blood streaking his face. "Then we hold. No matter what comes."
The giant roared, a sound that shook stones loose from the battlements. The ground trembled as it advanced, each step a drumbeat of doom.
Elroy raised his blade high, voice cutting through the fear.
"Archers! Loose! Aim for the eyes!"
A storm of fire-tipped arrows streaked through the night. They peppered the beast's hide, some sinking deep, many bouncing harmlessly away. Still, it came on.
The defenders braced, breaths short and sharp, their courage stretched thin as the titanic shadow bore down on them.
And far away, hooves thundered on the eastern road. Marcellus and his riders cut through the darkness, carrying with them the only hope left for Elroy's burning walls.
The ground shook violently as the monstrous figure emerged from the forest line, its enormous body blotting out the fading sunlight. The beast was a Ravokar, a towering, reptilian abomination with plated obsidian scales and a jagged horn protruding from its skull. Each step it took cracked the earth, and its roar split the sky like thunder. Upon its back rode a figure draped in crimson armor, his aura suffocating, his presence unmistakable — Varzak the Butcher, one of the Demon King's feared generals.
Duke Elroy narrowed his eyes as his warhorse reared. "So they've sent one of the King's lapdogs already…" His hand tightened around his greatsword's hilt.
Beside him, Elian Grey, son of Grand Duke Edric, stood tall, his silver armor still gleaming despite the dirt and blood from earlier battles. His expression was calm but his eyes burned with resolve. "We can't let him through, Duke Elroy. If he reaches your dukedom, thousands will die."
Elroy smirked grimly, swinging his blade onto his shoulder. "Then we cut him down here. Together."
The Ravokar bellowed, slamming its tail into the ground, sending shockwaves that flung soldiers aside like ragdolls. Varzak raised his halberd and pointed it at the two nobles.
"Two noble hounds of men, thinking yourselves worthy to oppose me?" His voice was guttural, twisted with malice. "Your names will be the first I carve onto this soil."
The beast lunged forward, maw opening wide enough to swallow ten men at once. Elroy's eyes sharpened; he spurred his horse, darting to the flank, his greatsword arcing upward to slice at the Ravokar's joint. Sparks flew as steel clashed against hardened scales.
Elian rushed in from the opposite side, his spear glowing faintly with the aura of his training. He thrust toward the beast's eye, but Varzak's halberd intercepted, the clash ringing like a bell across the battlefield.
"You'll need more than tricks, boy," Varzak growled, forcing Elian back with sheer brute strength.
But Elian slid his foot back, bracing himself, and smirked. "Good thing I brought more than tricks." He twisted his spear, releasing a burst of ki that forced Varzak to skid back on the Ravokar's back.
Elroy used that moment, leaping onto the Ravokar's tail with terrifying agility for a man his age. He sprinted along its back, roaring as his greatsword came down with both hands aimed for Varzak himself.
The general caught the blow with his halberd, sparks exploding in the night sky like fireworks. Below them, the Ravokar thrashed, its massive body rolling and shaking the earth. Soldiers scrambled to hold the line against the monster's wild fury, but all eyes were on the duel raging above — Elroy, Elian, and the Demon King's general locked in a deadly clash upon the back of the beast.
The Ravokar's roar split the battlefield, a sound that felt less like noise and more like the earth itself groaning. Its colossal frame moved with terrifying weight, obsidian scales glistening in the infernal glow of the fires it spread. Every step it took left molten cracks in the ground, as if the land itself rejected its existence.
Duke Elroy stood grim, his greatsword clenched tight. "A beast like this… no ordinary calamity. This is bred for war."
Elian was already moving, his cloak snapping behind him as arcs of mana gathered around his body. He muttered words under his breath, and then light exploded from him in a rush of power.
Kigen.
Flames of condensed mana wrapped his frame, forming a translucent battle armor that made his silhouette blaze like a phantom knight. Unlike the martial art of ki-users, Elian's Kigen was born of raw magic, condensed and refined until it cloaked his body. It worked much like the Touki of the Eastern warriors, but instead of spirit force, his was fueled by his prodigious mana.
"Stay on its flank!" Elian called, his voice steady despite the devastation around them. With a burst of speed, he shot forward, every step cracking the ground. His spear—wrought entirely from conjured magic—stabbed at the Ravokar's armored neck, the impact flaring with enough light to blind nearby soldiers.
The thrust left a crater of force against the beast's scales—but no penetration. The monster snarled and swung its claw, an entire battalion scattering like leaves. Elian slid back, gouging trenches with his boots as he braced.
Varzak's laughter rumbled above, his crimson halberd glinting. "A boy wrapped in borrowed fire dares to challenge me? Pathetic!" He swung his weapon down, flames screaming.
Elroy intercepted, his greatsword ringing like thunder against the halberd's edge. Sparks burst, heat seared, and both men locked eyes for an instant, hatred burning.
"Focus!" Elian's voice cut through, and then he was moving again. His Kigen flared brighter, his strikes now blindingly fast—each thrust of his spear like a meteor crashing against the Ravokar's hide. He combined it with spells: [Stone Chains] erupting from the earth to bind a leg, [Gale Cannon] bursting to stagger its head back.
For a heartbeat, it looked like the tide was shifting.
But then the Ravokar's body lit from within. Red lines seared across its scales, molten veins igniting. With a single roar, the beast shattered Elian's stone bindings like twigs and unleashed its breath. Not fire—but a torrent of molten ash and smoke that rolled out like a living storm.
Elian raised his hands, his Kigen flaring white-hot, layered with a barrier of shimmering mana. "—[Grand Aegis]!"
The shield held for three seconds before it cracked like glass. The ash wave slammed into him, sending him tumbling across the earth, his magic armor flickering. Blood sprayed from his lips as he slammed to a halt, barely standing.
Elroy rushed to his side, his armor scorched, his greatsword dragging trenches. "You alive?"
Elian spat blood, wiping his mouth with a grin that was more defiance than humor. "Still breathing. But this thing… it's worse than anything father ever described."
The Ravokar lumbered forward, each step an earthquake, Varzak grinning like a god of war above it.
Together, Elroy and Elian stood, battered but unbroken. They knew the truth—individually, they could not match the beast. Even together, they were only slowing its advance.
But neither man retreated.
Because if they faltered, there would be nothing left of Elroy's dukedom but ash and bones.
The night sky glowed hellish red as the Ravokar pressed forward, each step shaking the battlements as if the fortress itself were shuddering in fear. Its molten veins pulsed brighter, smoke pouring from its jaws like a forge on the verge of eruption.
Elian stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Duke Elroy, his breathing ragged but his eyes locked forward. The air around him shimmered, his Kigen burning brighter as he poured more mana into his body. The glow made him seem larger, his outline distorted by the sheer force leaking from him.
Elroy gave a grim nod. "We cut the beast down together. Strike when I draw its guard."
He charged first, his greatsword cleaving upward in an arc that sang with raw power. The blade bit into the Ravokar's leg, not deep enough to sever, but enough to stagger its massive frame. The beast howled, its molten blood hissing as it splattered the stones.
"Elian!" Elroy roared.
Elian surged forward in a blur, Kigen flaring like a comet. He thrust his spear straight into the staggering beast's exposed joint. The impact exploded in a burst of mana, the shockwave blasting rubble off the walls. The spear sank halfway before the Ravokar's muscles clamped down, trapping it.
The monster's claws swung down in retaliation. Elian wrenched his weapon free at the last instant, rolling aside as stone shattered where he had stood. He skidded to his feet, sweat streaking his face.
"Damn it, its hide is too thick!" he spat.
Above them, Varzak laughed, the halberd spinning in his hands like a wheel of fire. "Children with sticks, scratching at a god. Do you even realize how far beneath me you stand?"
His halberd cleaved downward, the strike aimed at both men. Elroy braced, greatsword lifted high. The impact detonated like a thunderclap, sparks and flame cascading outward. Elian leapt to the side and countered with a volley of spells, mana circles flaring around him.
"[Glacial Spears]!" Shards of ice the size of ballista bolts shot from his hands, striking the Ravokar's torso. Steam hissed where they struck, the sudden cold clashing violently against molten veins. Cracks spread across its scales, though none deep enough to cripple.
The beast bellowed in rage, its molten core flaring even hotter. It reared back and exhaled again, a storm of molten ash blasting across the wall. Soldiers screamed as the very air turned to fire.
Elian thrust both hands forward, his Kigen blazing until his entire body shone like white fire. "[Mana Barrier!]"
A dome of force shimmered around the nearest men, holding back the ash storm for a few crucial heartbeats. His teeth clenched, veins bulging at his temples as he poured everything into keeping the shield intact. The strain made his vision swim, his body threatening to buckle.
Elroy stepped in front of him, his greatsword glowing faintly as he whispered a rare enchantment. He hacked into the ash cloud itself, his blade dispersing part of the torrent and opening a gap.
"Stand firm!" Elroy roared, his voice cutting through the panic.
Together, the duke and Edric's son held the line, their combined strength carving a thin sliver of hope against the overwhelming might of Ravokar and his rider.
But deep down, both men knew it—this was not victory. It was survival.
And unless reinforcements came soon, the Elroy Dukedom would not last till dawn.
To be continued..