Ragna, who had acted in sync with Enkrid's initiative, assessed the current situation and could say he had achieved his purpose to some extent.
'If I draw attention here, no one can target Anne.'
This was one of the reasons he had targeted the Medusa. While slashing through monsters with fierce swordplay, would anyone bother to divert troops to kill a single girl pulling weeds in the back when such a massive creature was falling?
He would make sure they didn't have time for that. That had been his intention.
In the end, this could also be considered a way of protecting Anne.
It was indeed the kind of thinking only a madman would do, but it had worked.
Right now, those enemies weren't even thinking about the girl, were they?
Just two swordsmen—a phrase that could well be made into a song later—and their expressions had turned black.
Well, their faces were already somewhat dark to begin with, so it would be difficult for human eyes to perceive the change in their complexion.
'If I believe that's the case, then that's what it is.'
Ragna organized his thoughts comfortably.
What remained now would be survival and the remaining battle.
"Can you fight?"
Ragna asked in a whisper. Enkrid clenched and unclenched his hand before answering.
"I can fight as well as a gentle Rem."
It wasn't exactly code, but it could sound like it. Of course, Ragna understood immediately.
There was no such thing as a gentle Rem in this world. Therefore, Enkrid currently couldn't fight properly. He wouldn't be able to exert even half of half his usual strength.
Seeing him cut the Medusa's neck earlier made that seem plausible. He had seemed to lose consciousness briefly in the middle of it.
"That was a brutish tactic."
"Your mother's method."
"I meant it was courageously brutish."
Ragna, no matter how much of a stepmother she was, would not commit the sin of insulting his own mother with his own mouth.
Quickly correcting his words, Ragna shrugged his shoulders and stood in front of Enkrid.
"When we return to the unit later, I'll have to tell the story of how I protected our burden of a captain."
"Leaving out the story of cutting down the Medusa?"
"Isn't it the storyteller's prerogative to decide where the story begins?"
Dremül found the two chattering in front interesting.
Were they fearless? Or was it because they had resolved themselves to death?
If so, he had something to tell them.
"Even if you want to die, you cannot die."
It was a calm tone, but the one speaking was a rotting half-corpse. Therefore, it should sound ominous and eerie, but if the listeners didn't hear it that way, that was that.
"Ah, I agree. I also have no intention of dying."
Enkrid answered without even breathing.
"That's not what I mean..."
"We didn't gather to share tea, so why are there so many words? Tsk."
He even cut off whatever Dremül was trying to say. Looking at that skill, he could well deserve the nickname of a knight who wields his tongue.
Speech, content, attitude—all three aspects harmonized. Ragna was impressed anew.
This seemed like something that would twist anyone's temper if they could understand words.
And indeed it did.
"Kill them."
Dremül expressed his anger. His rotting, festering eyelids moved up and down.
Above the eye socket, where eyebrows should have been, something like blackened, mangled flesh protruded like a tumor, and it trembled.
At his words, his first disciple raised his right hand. Looking at his actions, it seemed he was the one who had used that black mass earlier.
He was a fellow with an extra eye on his forehead.
Ragna knew how to deal with mages. He had picked up what Enkrid had learned by watching over his shoulder, and that was enough for him.
All mages were better cut down before they could cast spells. It was a simple premise. Then he just needed to realize that premise.
He firmly planted his feet on the ground, raised his greatsword, and brought it down.
Looking purely at the speed of swinging the sword, it wasn't particularly fast. Naturally, that was from a knight's perspective—it would be quite fast for that old man with three eyes. Moreover, he had mixed steps into the simple downward slash.
It was a strike that advanced forward while cutting down. Even without calculation, Ragna knew perfectly the distance his sword would reach.
The sword would fall in time with his striking speed, precisely splitting the old man's head vertically, and would drag out the foul thing contained within.
His body stepped forward with a thud and swung the sword, but faster than that, a heavy pressure struck his chest. It was just when the sword had come down about halfway to its target.
Thwack!
Ragna's body floated about two spans in the air and was knocked backward. He wasn't pushed very far. Ragna, who had maintained his balance in mid-air, felt the pressure pushing his chest and immediately twisted his waist to deflect the force, so there was no great impact.
"My eyes see even the laws that govern the natural world. Do you think mere swordsmen could possibly escape my sight?"
The three-eyed old man displayed his pride. Enkrid was inwardly impressed.
'He said "mere swordsmen" again.'
One would think he'd be careful after being mocked this much.
In any case, the three-eyed old man's spell activation was quite fast. There were no incantation words, so it was impossible to detect when the spell would activate.
"You know far too little. You don't even know the stages of those who use spells, so you just charge in swinging swords, don't you?"
When the moment came to show off, Dremül couldn't resist and stepped forward. That's how it looked to Enkrid.
He could imagine how much showing off he must have done back when he was teaching alchemy.
While Dremül was speaking, Ragna thrust his greatsword.
The opponent wasn't a knight. It seemed like he could skewer and kill him with a good thrust, but it didn't go as intended.
Whoosh!
This time, black smoke billowed up in front of Ragna.
The smoke transformed into dozens of hands and feet, swords, spears, hammers and the like, blocking Ragna's path.
Ragna changed the direction of his thrusting greatsword and swung it up, down, left and right indiscriminately. His swordwork was so fast that falling raindrops moved along with his blade.
It was like creating a small storm with his sword, and the hands, feet, and weapons made of black smoke were caught up in the small storm and shattered against his greatsword as if they had physical substance.
Bang! Crash! Crack!
After the noise, Ragna blocked something heavy targeting his knee with his greatsword.
Clang clang clang clang!
Something invisible revealed its hazy form due to the raindrops. It was a blade made of compressed air.
A long gash was left on Ragna's greatsword, and part of the protective gear covering his knee was torn.
If he hadn't been wearing greaves—metal shin guards—he might have suffered a considerably deep laceration, but Ragna simply withdrew his greatsword with a nonchalant attitude and aimed forward once more.
"You have no fear!"
The three-eyed old man burst into anger and extended his hand, and this time lightning struck.
Light gathered in his hand, then white light stretched toward them irregularly like the branches of a growing tree.
Ragna threw his greatsword up slightly above eye level and retreated.
Crash!
The lightning struck the greatsword and sent it flying far away.
Seeing this, Dremül spoke again.
"Those who first enter the world of spells are called the Glimpsing Ones. They're at the level of just beginning to understand what spells are. The next stage is called the Speaking Ones. That level encompasses those who borrow spells from otherworldly beings and chant spells."
Was he trying to convey that whatever they did would be useless?
Dremül waved his rotting hand with a tone as if he were unrelated to what was happening beside him.
It wasn't a gesture with any particular great intention, just a gesture added while speaking. Following that gesture, a foul smell spread through the air. Enkrid raised his hand to cover his nose. It was a reflexive action.
Now that he looked, the owner of the thick stench wasn't Dremül but the old man who had an eye embedded in his forehead to achieve a unique appearance.
Dremül dispensed teachings to the two fools standing side by side in front of him. Of course, Enkrid couldn't know his inner thoughts, but judging by his gestures and speaking tone, it seemed that way.
Was it this kind of personality that led him to teach alchemy on the continent? Not with any good intentions, but because he wanted to show off?
It was half luck, but Enkrid had glimpsed Dremül's essence fairly well.
Dremül continued to speak. He was still in an explanatory tone.
"After glimpsing and speaking, what comes next?"
Meanwhile, Ragna had charged in barehanded, encountered a golem made of black stones, and was leaping back to avoid it.
Naturally, the golem had been summoned by the old man.
Whatever Dremül was saying, Ragna didn't even pretend to listen. Enkrid looked at Dremül and protested.
"Unlike that delinquent, I am exemplary. Please continue telling us, legendary alchemist Dremül sir."
He even used honorific speech.
Luagarne-style tactical swordplay would shine.
When the body wasn't normal, making the opponent careless to buy time would also be excellent tactics.
Since the Medusa was gone, Enkrid comfortably raised his head and feigned an attitude of attentive listening.
From Dremül's perspective, the behavior of the fellow who had mocked him earlier was detestable, but he couldn't stop the fun of moving his mouth.
"Next are the Possessing Ones. It's the term for mages who possess their own world."
Thud!
A loud noise erupted right beside them.
It was the sound of Ragna and the golem fighting.
Looking purely at skill in handling the body, Rem might be better, but when it came to martial arts, there would be no one in the Mad Knight Unit who could catch up to Audin.
Well, if it came to barehanded fighting, Enkrid was confident he could subdue Ragna too.
That didn't mean Ragna couldn't use his body at all.
After taking several hits, he found an opening and smashed the golem's head. He alternately blocked the golem's left and right punches with both arms, then leaped up in an instant and struck from the jaw with his knee. Whether it was lucky or not, the creature's core was in its head, so the golem's movement stopped.
Ragna, who had smashed the golem's head, rolled backward as soon as his feet touched the ground.
Boom!
An explosion occurred where he had been and flames rose, but the rain quickly extinguished them.
"Huff, huff."
Ragna was breathing hard. Anyone could see he looked exhausted.
"Like an insect. Mere insects."
The three-eyed old man used the word "mere" repeatedly. As if that pleased him, Dremül's voice became much gentler.
"The Possessing Ones become indulgent, intoxicated by the pleasure of casting spells, so that stage is called Immoderanta. Beyond that are the Vilis, the Manifesters. They're at the level of manifesting their own world. Do you know what comes after even surpassing that?"
Looking at how appropriately he paused his words, he seemed to have the talent of a minstrel too.
Of course, there wouldn't be many with the steel nerves to sit huddled together in front of that appearance listening to stories.
"Tacitus, the Silent Ones. It's a rank that qualifies one to deviate from the world's providence. Therefore, they can be unbound by incantation words."
Enkrid realized that even if Dremül wasn't a person of character, he had been an excellent teacher.
Though he was petty, when it came to teaching, he would have done it properly.
Even now, wasn't he slowly expanding from small concepts, pulling out each word one by one to explain?
How kind.
The humans of a certain knight unit in a certain city should look at this person and learn.
"Just do it like this. Come on, try it."
After demonstrating once, that's what they called an explanation.
"My disciple is at the stage of the Silent Ones."
Dremül finished speaking. He had said the Silent Ones were the rank that activated spells without incantation words.
Ragna retreated and asked Enkrid.
"Still gentle?"
Formless shockwaves flew whoosh whoosh toward where he had retreated, and the ground was gouged.
"I'm at the level of being slightly annoyed, but it's insufficient."
Enkrid knew that what he could do was at best a few sword strikes. Then shouldn't he use them properly?
Would it be enough to cut down that monster? He wouldn't know without trying.
"Finish it."
At Dremül's words, the three-eyed old man raised his hand.
Then horns suddenly sprouted from the head of the woman beside him. Following that, scales crackle crackle emerged over both arms, and her snout protruded forward as well.
"Behold, this is what will become the new beings to rule this land when I become a god."
She had an appearance that seemed half-mixed between a Scaler and a human.
Kiiiiiii.
She let out a shriek, then lowered her head and let her arms hang.
Huff, huff, huff.
The breathing monster. Every time she breathed, her shoulders and chest moved, and just that alone spread the presence of a monster that might be a magical beast or chimera.
The monster writhed, rolled her eyes upward, and slightly raised her head.
It was a gaze that seemed to glare from below to above. The moment that gaze touched them, formless pressure was felt.
It was telekinesis.
"It will be like a hundred strong men holding you."
Those were the three-eyed old man's words. If this was just from looking, it would be more impressive when properly used.
Ragna reached his hand to the side.
"If we do well, we'll both die here."
"Then who will tell the story of blocking my path when we return?"
"You do it, Captain."
Enkrid handed Penna back to his hand and said.
"If only I return alive, Anne will poison me to death."
"...That can't be helped."
They exchanged jokes and bought time, but a crisis was still a crisis.
If he died, today would repeat, so would it be okay? No, that wasn't right. Enkrid couldn't think that way.
If he was going to live life carelessly, he wouldn't have struggled this much.
The words the ferryman had said when he lost consciousness lingered in his mind.
The words asking if he thought such luck would continue when they had luckily come this far without anyone dying.
'If it doesn't work, I just keep doing it until it does, don't I?'
He steeled his resolve. Enkrid gathered the Will surging from his battered body.
If it didn't work, he would have to dance his final sword dance too.
Ragna gripped Penna and regulated his breathing several times.
How many times in his life had he fought with someone behind his back?
There were people behind him that he absolutely had to keep alive.
Ragna gripped Penna and took in the sight of the monster standing blankly and the old man standing behind it.
"None of those behind me will die."
He learned again how to fight while protecting someone. He added his own methods to what he had learned from Enkrid.
Ragna was a genius. He had seen what Enkrid had done, and he roughly knew his mother's methods too.
He had seen it only once but confirmed while smashing the golem's head earlier that he could clumsily imitate it.
Ragna mixed in his own way as well.
If he failed, well, he would die. But was dying important? No, achieving what he wanted was more important.
Right now, protecting those behind him was Ragna's wish.
Looking at the situation, was it a difficult dream to achieve? Then he should just enjoy it.
"Interesting."
Ragna stole Enkrid's line.
"Hey, that's mine."
Enkrid voiced his complaint.