Chapter 767 - The Talent to Find Advantage Amid Adversity
A black bird circled in the sky, gaining speed, then folded its wings and dove straight down.
For such a massive body, its speed was unbelievable.
Maybe it was even falling faster because it was so heavy.
Boom—a sound ripped through the air, and as the black bird swooped past below, Rem vanished from his spot.
"What a crazy bastard—"
Fel had seen what Rem just did and muttered his own brand of high praise.
Right before the bird struck, the madman of the Western Region wrapped a rope around a hand axe and spun it overhead, lobbing it into the air.
With its beak thrust forward like a giant spear, the black bird dove, and as it did, Ropord and Fel swung their swords to deflect its beak, and the axe and rope thrown by Rem hooked right around its neck.
In a flash, Rem hauled himself atop the creature, and the bird took to the sky again.
"Captain."
Ropord called Enkrid.
Enkrid already knew the name of the very last person in this world you needed to worry about.
"That's Rem."
In other words, the kind of man who could handle any job—even up in the sky.
"Loo-loo-lah-lah!"
A wild screech echoed from above—it was Rem's voice.
He was probably forcing himself to sound cheerful because of Teresa's singing below.
Rem suddenly remembered a few old songs he used to sing back in the Western Region.
Wasn't there something about it being bad luck when a crow cries?
Or something like that.
Riding on the bird's back, Rem cast a spell to summon a friend.
The moment the giant shape of an eagle appeared behind him, he clenched his left fingers and jabbed them down between the black bird's feathers.
Like an eagle's talons, his fingers pierced through the feathers and dug into the skin beneath.
Screee—
He pursed his lips and made a sound that echoed like an eagle's cry.
Using his left hand as an anchor, Rem lowered his body and advanced forward.
He moved just like a climber navigating a cliff.
The only difference was that he was riding on the back of a massive Beast high in the sky.
He managed to get near the black bird's head, then drove his Inherited Weapon—a battle axe—straight down.
His actions were so decisive that they seemed incredibly fast.
The black bird thrashed from side to side, desperately trying to shake off the thing clinging to its back, but Rem refused to let go.
And that was the result.
The axe split its skull open.
Crack!
Black blood and brains sprayed like rain from its small head.
With his left hand still buried in the creature's body, Rem hunched low and half-rose to his feet.
Lifting his head, he saw the twisted, fading gray Sun in the distance, vanishing against the sky.
Another bird flew past the Sun.
Rem had already predicted its movement.
He had holstered his Inherited Weapon at his belt well in advance and immediately pulled out the hand axe still buried in the dead bird and hurled it forward.
Being large simply meant there were more places to aim for.
Screeee—
The hand axe cut through the air and, with a dull thud, embedded itself in the back of the other bird.
The dead bird was plummeting, but Rem could use it as a launching point for just a moment—and that's exactly what he did.
Pushing off the foothold, he bent his knees, tensed his thighs, and yanked on the cord attached to the hand axe.
The circling black bird jolted and was tugged toward him, momentarily halting in midair.
It was only for a split second, but it was enough.
Rem pulled the cord and leapt, spreading his arms wide as he rode the wind right onto the back of his new target.
With his arms outstretched and soaring through the sky, he really did look just like an eagle.
Meanwhile, the bird he had used as a stepping stone crashed far away from where his companions were fighting.
Crash.
While the sound of the falling bird echoed, Rem's axe split open the second bird's skull.
Cawww—
His whistle rang out across the sky once more.
Is he planning to come back down from there somehow?
That kind of doubt could have crossed his mind, but Enkrid didn't think that way.
He truly believed Rem would find his own way down.
He wasn't the kind of guy to charge up there without a plan.
There were plenty of ways to get down, weren't there?
He could always use a tree for support to slow his fall, and if worst came to worst, he could just ask Audin to catch him.
"Even if he breaks a leg, though I doubt it'll come to that."
It wasn't as if he'd flown so high that he looked like nothing more than a speck.
At that height, he should be fine.
Barely had those thoughts run through Enkrid's mind before the last of the three black birds panicked and shot skyward the moment Rem climbed onto its back.
Even to Enkrid, it was obvious the poor thing had acted in terror, purely on instinct—but in the end, it was basically trying to drag Rem to its death along with it.
Humans can't fly.
That goes for knights, too.
The bird, which had once cast a deep shadow overhead, now seemed to shrink to barely the size of a man.
Enkrid wondered if Rem would just smash the bird's head and force a way down.
But instead, Rem simply severed the bird's neck.
Once again, black blood poured down from above.
Blood spattered down in heavy drops, feathers rained through the sky, and then both the dead bird and a single person began plummeting once more.
Rem used the bird's corpse as a foothold once again, showing off another astonishing display of agility.
When he had descended some distance, Rem seemed to be flying through the air.
Rem wasn't a knight—he was a shaman.
He called forth the Spirit of the Eagle, making his body lighter.
That didn't mean he could actually fly, but with his arms and legs spread wide, he managed to glide rather than fall outright.
The only problem was…
"He looks like he's lost up there."
It seemed the Plague Ghouls were more or less taken care of—Ragna approached and spoke.
When Enkrid didn't respond, Ragna repeated himself, as if to drive the point home.
"That idiot who can't even find his way is up there."
He almost sounded excited about it.
"…He'll make his way back."
The black bird had flung Rem far into the distance.
Who knows if that creature had the intention to do so—though it was already dead by then.
If, in its dying moments, it wanted to take a parting shot, it certainly succeeded.
Still, Enkrid wasn't particularly worried.
He genuinely believed Rem would find his own way.
Rem wasn't like Ragna, and a western hunter could probably find his bearings even within the Demonic Domain, so there was no need to wait around for him.
For whatever reason, the Corrupted Fairy that had been on the spire had also vacated its place; neither the shaman nor the so-called lord was anywhere to be seen.
In truth, both of them had left precisely because they knew this cheeky bunch would keep fighting here until they were utterly spent.
Plague Ghouls were tricky monsters—they'd have a hard time dealing with them.
And it wasn't as if the ghouls were the only threat.
Overhead flew the modified crow beasts, and after the Plague Ghouls, there were still plenty of monsters created by forbidden research and alchemy.
Most of all, their side was safely within the fortress, protected by the Thornbriar Fortress Wall.
They could afford to take things a little easier.
From the Corrupted Fairy's perspective, after firing arrows at those people, it needed time to regain its strength.
Their intentions were obvious and clear: Once their foes were worn out from fighting the ghouls, they would laugh down at them from above.
"Yes, you fought well. Now, it's time to play with the four-armed werewolves, isn't it? Oh, my apologies. Did you notice the Elite monster back there, the one I put my heart and soul into? Have you seen it yet?"
That's what they'd say, looking down from atop the fortress wall.
So they'd face a new kind of difficulty, unlike anything when dealing with the Plague Ghouls.
Arrows would rain down from the Spire Trees, and the Crystal Knight clad in black armor would be sent out as well.
Even Enkrid couldn't possibly read exactly what the vanished lord or the Corrupted Fairy were planning.
He only knew that if they relied too much on that fortress wall, and the Madmen would be more than ready to shatter that faith.
And though the two had disappeared, that didn't mean no one was left wandering atop the wall.
A few shadows could be seen moving.
To Enkrid's eyes, those shadows seemed to flicker.
It was only then, as he took it all in, that he realized Jaxen had quietly vanished as well.
He'd go take care of what needed to be done.
And those who remained here would do the same.
Enkrid spoke.
"Lua."
The Frog did not respond to Enkrid's call.
Instead, those large eyes just kept rolling, round and round.
She was running every element through her mind: the fortress wall, the monsters, the arrows, the Corrupted Fairy, the environment, the situation.
She pieced them all together, building a complete picture in her head.
The Frog Luagarne—she was the kind of person who found an edge even in adversity.
That was her specialty: turning a disadvantage into an advantage or at least leveling the playing field.
She was a tactician, able to shift weak positions into strong ones through clever maneuvers.
All of this came from Frog's distinctive combat instincts, making her skills both difficult to teach and to learn.
But her abilities were undeniable.
If someone can turn a losing battle into a close contest, then when the situation already favors them—when they're strong and ahead—they'll fight even better.
It only makes sense that someone would perform best when they're at an advantage rather than a disadvantage.
That's the core of the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword.
Enkrid had learned it, more or less, by dying over and over.
Really, how could Luagarne not feel fond toward Enkrid?
Battle instinct isn't something you can usually teach—people just have it or they don't.
But this guy actually learned every time you taught him.
Whatever he tried to do on his own, he'd somehow manage to figure it out.
That sparked Frog's curiosity and tempted her ambition—that's why she was here now.
As Luagarne gazed at the fortress wall, Enkrid began working through a similar line of thought.
Siege experience.
Enkrid recalled the rare occasions in his past when he'd attacked a fortress.
There weren't many.
There was no need to dwell on the defender's advantages or the attacker's weaknesses.
There's no moat dug around it, and it doesn't look like they're about to pour boiling oil from the top of the fortress wall, either.
Instead, the moment anyone approaches that wall, the Restless Spirits clad in Thorn Shrouds will reach out and try to tear them apart.
You don't need firsthand experience to know that much.
"Because this isn't an ordinary fortress, we can't approach it using ordinary tactics."
Typically, the defenders would dig a moat as a barrier and send out raiding squads to cut off the attackers' supply lines.
The defenders get to fight at home, while the attackers have to camp out on damp ground, exposed and weary.
"Generally, defense has the advantage."
Of course, there are cases where the opposite is true.
For example, attackers can encircle a fortress with little food stockpiled and starve out the defenders.
"None of that applies right now."
Our side is a small elite force with no supply lines to speak of, and the Thorn Fortress established in the Demonic Domain is no ordinary castle, either.
It might have felt like a long chain of thought, but Enkrid processed it all quickly.
Everything raced through his mind in moments, boiling down to just two key questions.
What do we lack that the enemy has?
"The absence of siege engines."
Even if this wasn't a typical siege, having some kind of catapult or siege engine like a Mangonel would be advantageous.
He'd spotted bone-like Ballistae atop the walls—siege weapons they had and we didn't.
Now for the second question.
What do we have that they don't?
"Power that could be called a disaster—nine, no, eight of us."
It would be nine if Rem returned.
So we have eight disasters, plus Luagarne, who knows how to exploit any gap in the enemy's defense.
[Tl here: So Teresa is a Knight, not Luagarne.]
Enkrid's gaze lingered on Luagarne.
Luagarne didn't even puff out her cheeks.
She just watched silently, not making a sound.
The ashen sunlight faded away.
To be precise, it was swallowed by darkness.
It was as if the black soot of the Demonic Domain's twilight was spreading across the sky.
It felt like someone had picked up a black paintbrush and started sweeping it from the sky all the way down to the ground.
Just before that blackness filled everything around them, Luagarne's cheeks twitched.
Grrk.
"This should be fun," she said.
Then, she added, "Let's smash our way through with brute force."
Luagarne's explanation was short and to the point.
She already had a rough idea of what each ally was capable of.
At this desperate moment, running around the fortress and fighting half-heartedly would be the worst move.
Will isn't infinite.
Even though Enkrid possessed an inexhaustible Will, it didn't mean his stamina was endless.
So for now, they just had to break through in a single decisive push.
These people had more than enough strength.
The enemy underestimated Enkrid's group for making it this far.
The group had moved in formation, then spread out in a long line facing the fortress wall.
Luagarne didn't bother with complicated thinking.
Sometimes, the simplest answer was also the clearest.
If they wasted time overthinking here, they'd just hand the advantage on the battlefield to the enemy.
What they needed now was something unexpected—something beyond anyone's predictions.
If you had overwhelming might, this was the kind of thing you could pull off.
This is exactly what Luagarne hoped for.
The fortress wall had no doors.
Nowhere did there appear to be any kind of passage.
Instead, it bristled with awl-like spikes sharp enough that a single misstep could pierce a hole the size of your fist; everywhere were thin, stinging thorns that pricked to look at.
"I'll open it," said Audin, looking at the doorless fortress wall.
Uwoooh.
Uegeh.
Waeek.
Perhaps because of the hymn Teresa was singing, the wailing of the Restless Spirits that made up the fortress wall now sounded quite different than before.
One of them was vomiting out a dark red something, which pooled in a wide line beneath the wall, as if trying to dig a moat.
Another twisted its face, sticking out a thorn-covered tongue
The way its tongue moved was just like the whip Luagarne wielded.
Crack, crack.
The tongue made of thorns tore through the air, ready to shred anything that came close.
There was another one stretching out its arm, and yet another whose face had split in two, jabbing its split tongue like an awl.
Honestly, not a single one of them was staying still.
"Shall I sing?" Teresa asked.
"Save your strength, Sister," Audin replied, shaking his head.
***
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