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𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞 (𝟒)
‘𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘳𝘬𝘵𝘦𝘯!’
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Johan realized this immediately upon seeing them. They were dressed too differently from those in the fiefdom. For one, none of them wielded longswords.
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A longsword is essentially a two-handed weapon. Its use makes defense difficult due to the challenge of handling a shield, and it’s complex to master. Unless trained professionally in a fencing school or a swordsmanship guild, there was no particular reason to use a longsword. If a long weapon was desired, a spear was better, and if a sword was preferred, a short sword with a shield was more convenient. Except for spears, mercenaries typically preferred to carry a weapon with a shield.
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There were a few mercenaries in the Wolves of Arkten who used longswords, indicating their high skill level. But the mercenaries before him were definitely not the Wolves of Arkten.
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Of course, that didn’t mean he could stop.
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Johan charged at the closest one. The darkness and the focus on the hilltop meant his approach went unnoticed until he was right upon them.
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“Uh, uh?!”
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The man tried to defend himself with his shield, putting force into it. The large round shield was effective in blocking the direction of an attack just by holding it.
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. . .Unless the opponent was Johan.
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Johan responded simply and effectively.
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𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠!
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When Johan kicked the shield, it splintered and flew backwards. Despite being sturdily made of thickly layered wood, it was powerless against his immense strength.
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“Huh?”
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Johan was slightly surprised; he hadn’t expected the shield to fly away like that. However, his body moved naturally. He aimed for the neck of his off-balance opponent and stabbed. Blood spurted with a ‘gurgle.’
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“W-What the heck is this guy?!”
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The fallen opponent was holding a messer, a type of thick single-edged sword. Rusty and with a barely sharp edge, it was still useful for throwing. Johan quickly threw it at another advancing enemy, who recoiled in shock, raising his shield.
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One step.
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Johan closed the distance with a simple forward step, not a special maneuver from the Kaegal school, but combined with his strength, it was formidable.
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The opponent swung a mace in panic. Johan deflected its trajectory with his sword, then struck off the man’s hand and delivered a fatal blow, splitting his body in one stroke.
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‘?’
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Johan sensed something odd. The longsword. . . was too easily wielded.
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While the longsword wasn’t blunt, it wasn’t usually honed to such sharpness, as over-sharpening could damage it. It was sharp enough to cut a person, but not to split someone like cutting butter.
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‘𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘒𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘧 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵. . .’
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In the dim light, the dark blade seemed to absorb the blood, revealing inscriptions in an ancient imperial language: <𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬>
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‘𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴?’
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It was a fitting sword for Karamaf, known for destroying noble houses and taking their seal rings. Johan clicked his tongue. He knew it was a master sword, but this made it even more awkward to use.
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Johan picked up the opponent’s shield and mace. After the surprise attack killed two, the enemies rushed to kill Johan.
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𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐝!
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An arrow flew from a distance. Johan, without blinking, blocked it with the shield. It was too dark to see, but he sensed it.
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“There was never talk of such a guy existing!”
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“?”
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Upon hearing those words, Johan became certain.
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These guys weren’t here to target me after all!
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‘𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘯. 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.’
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It was he who felt the sting. Indeed, there was no reason for them to have pursued Johan in that situation.
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Neither was reconciliation possible in these circumstances. And Johan was not so kind as to let someone who was trying to kill him go.
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“Come at me!”
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Johan let out a short battle cry and charged. The light revealed Johan’s equipment. His stature and gear made the mercenaries flinch.
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The first to die was the one wielding a spear. The long weapon was troublesome. Johan charged foolishly, parried the spear with his shield, and swung his mace.
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𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩!
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‘𝘖𝘩. . . 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵.’
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Had Kaegal seen it, he would have lamented, ‘𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦!’ But Johan and the mace were excessively well-matched. The shorter range and fewer variations made it easier to handle. Given Johan’s physical abilities, there was no need to resort to swordplay.
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“You monster!”
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A shortsword swung at his waist, but Johan preemptively collided to defend. The opponent’s arm broke, positioning his head for an easy strike.
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Once more.
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With a dull sound, the opponent fell. The enemies panicked as a madman broke their formation. Only four had died, but the momentum was terrifying. None of the mercenaries were prepared to die for their mission.
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“Attack!”
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Goran quickly shouted. Now was the time to strike, as the enemy was recoiling. Goran’s mercenaries charged with battle cries.
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Even though Johan was difficult to surround, he found it easier now. He inhaled briefly and charged. One arrow was easily blocked with his shield.
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𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐝.