Chapter 412: Humans Against Monster

Herak was falling towards his certain death. Even if he could somehow survive the spike pit below, he would surely be dealt with by the soldiers waiting for him beyond the spikes. Yet only for the smallest fraction of a second, Herak resigned to his fate.

Not here!

He would be d.a.m.ned if he gave up like this! He hadn't come this far, gone through so much suffering in these foreign lands, only to fail now, at the last hurdle. He

would

get his revenge, and he

would

get back home. Not even death itself would stop him.

As anger replaced fear, he realized that there was still a way. He wasn't the first to jump the palisades. Before he had entered the enemy camp, his knights had already paved a thin path of survival that he could squeeze through.

Thus, as he fell, he slightly adjusted his legs and brought them back underneath his body. Right below him was one of his knights, his torso and limbs spiked onto the sharpened, wooden poles in the trench. The deft turn allowed Herak to land right on top of the spiked knight's back. His left foot sank into the knight's leather armor, until he felt a sharp sting in the sole of his foot, joined by the equally sharp scream of the knight beneath him. He only kept his weight on for a moment, before he pushed off and catapulted his body past the trench. With the monumental effort done, he lost control in the air, and rolled in the mud beyond the spikes. Finally, he used the remaining momentum to get back up to his feet. When he rose again, another sting came from his left foot.

When Herak looked down his left leg, he found a trickle of blood escape from his left boot's sole. During his acrobatics, the additional weight must have pushed one of the spikes through the knight's body and into his foot.

Doesn't matter. Keep going.

When he looked around, he realized that he had been surrounded. As he pulled his broadsword from its sheath, his eyes flitted left and right to a.s.sess his opponents.

Five in front, no one behind. All commoners. Should be easy.

Defense was a bad idea with such disadvantageous numbers. Instead, swift offense would allow him to isolate overwhelm them in smaller fights. Thus, he would quickly eliminate them one by one before they could react.

These soldiers were the last obstacles between him and that tent, this time he was certain. He would no longer be stopped. Once he had made a plan and steeled his determination, Herak put power in his feet to charge straight at the commoner furthest to the right. When Herak had drawn his sword, this one had been the only soldier to step back, thus creating more distance between himself and the others. With such a clear opening, this fight would be easy, Herak thought.

Yet just as he tried to rush forward, the stinging pain from before returned to his left foot. His left buckled slightly, and his charge veered off course, his entire body off-balance and threatening to fall altogether. As he slowed down, it gave another commoner next to Herak's target the chance to step into his path, axe in hand. With both hands, he made a wide swing.

Idiot, have you never held an axe?

Maybe the commoners here had just grabbed whatever weapons they could find to prepare their improvised defense, or maybe they were new recruits. Either way, the one who now stood in Herak's way seemed like he didn't even know how to properly hold onto his weapon.

Although he was off-balance, although he couldn't avoid the hit, Herak still retained his calm. As the axe head closed in on his left side, he simply raised up his left arm. In response, the axe, now angled incorrectly, harmlessly bounced off Herak's shoulder armor. The hit was still heavy, and his arm would no doubt hurt tomorrow, but it hadn't done any lasting damage. Even more, it also left the commoner wide open to a counter.

While the commoner's axe was still high up in the air after the deflection, Herak used the momentum from the hit he received to pull himself upright and regain his balance. At the same time, he thrust his broadsword forward, both in attack and as a counterweight, to control his momentum.

The heavy steel of the broadsword, sharpened to a thick point that wouldn't snap even after a hundred thrusts through leather or metal, broke through the commoner's thin cloth armor like it wasn't even there. With wide eyes, the commoner who had been run through by the blade stared first at the sword in his chest, and then at his killer's face hidden underneath the mask. Life left his fingers as his axe overhead slipped off and harmlessly fell to the ground behind him. Herak just grinned in response. In a single motion, he had removed a foe and corrected his terrible posture.

However, he didn't have much time to admire his work. As soon as he had dealt with one, two more commoners were coming at him, one from the right and one from the left.

One more axe, plus one halberd. The second one is a problem.

In comparison, the axe-wielder would be easy. The axe-wielding soldier on his right had already proven a coward before, and these commoners had no apparent training with axes. However, he had seen them expertly work halberds many times throughout his battles against them. Thus, he twisted his body to his left, the impaled soldier's body still stuck to the sword, propped up by Herak's grip alone. As a result, he pulled the squealing commoner with him, and pushed him towards his halberd-wielding ally. At the same time, he made a few large steps forward, away from the axe-wielder and towards the halberd. As he moved ahead, his body was covered by the commoner on his sword who already lay in his death throes. It was his first time using a human as a s.h.i.+eld, but he had plenty experience with tower s.h.i.+elds. The principle was the same.

Hidden behind the body, he didn't see what the halberdier was doing, but he didn't need to. After all, as he closed in, he didn't feel any resistance from the other side.

Obviously, the commoner had failed to attack before Herak had closed the distance. He could have swung his halberd overhead and bring its axe head down precisely behind the body and onto Herak's shoulders or head. Although he hadn't done so, it would have been a high risk move in the first place, one that was only possible with the strength and skills of a cultivator. However, he had also failed to use his weapon's spear point to simply spike Herak's hostage and keep his distance, which would have required nothing but determination. Be it strength or spirit, this commoner was lacking both, and it would be his end.

As he charged forward, Herak drew the long dagger on his belt. Before the halberdier could react, the duke felt the soldier he used as a s.h.i.+eld b.u.mp against someone on the other side. Already, he was deep inside the ideal range of the halberd, the weapon now useless. Unlike the confused commoner, Herak knew exactly what to do. The sharp metal gleamed as it cut through the air, past his s.h.i.+eld of meat, and then towards the helpless commoner's side.

The steel cut deep, underneath the ribs and through the flesh, towards the important organs protected by the rib cage. Herak's movements were calm and well-trained, without emotions. This commoner would just be another in an endless series of dead that the Bear of Borna had produced throughout his life.

One scream turned to two, and both his target and his s.h.i.+eld finally fell to the ground together. His sword was lodged and the bodies tangled, so he simply let go of his main weapon. He still had his dagger after all, and there were weapons everywhere. As soon as the frontal threat had been dealt with, Herak turned to the axe-wielder who had tried to keep up behind him.

Just a few steps had been enough to increase the distance between them, so Herak had plenty of time to turn and face his timid opponent. Again, this commoner showed his amateur axe swing, just the same as the first.

Too easy,

Herak thought, as he took a single step forward and to the side. As a result, the deadly axe head helplessly sailed past his body. When the commoner tried to raise his weapon again, Herak simply trapped it under his armpit. At the same time, he stabbed forward with his blood-stained dagger again. Thus, the third target fell just like the second had. This time, the commoner stared into Herak's face with blood-shot eyes. Defying his previous cowardice, he let go of his axe and held Herak's dagger in both hands, in an effort to trap the duke's weapon inside his body.

It was a n.o.ble attempt, but the duke had nothing but contempt for it. Even to show the n.o.ble spirit of sacrifice, one needed the bare minimum qualifications. It was something this commoner lacked, just like all his brethren. With a single, forceful jolt, Herak pulled the dagger from the helpless commoner's grasp. How could a simple man ever compare with a n.o.ble in strength?

The man's desperate, confused look as he sank to the ground made Herak's grin widen. Maybe in his final moments, the commoner had understood the true difference between them, a gap that couldn't be made up for, not even with modern weapons. Now, he thought leisurely, it was time to clean up the rest.

However, just as he got ready to turn and retrieve his sword, he felt something hit the back of his legs with great force. Although the hit didn't pierce his armor, his right knee buckled and collapsed from the impact. Once more, Herak landed on the ground, this time with his knees in the dirt.

Got too excited.

While embroiled in combat, he had forgotten that there had still been two commoners left in his vicinity. Now, he had been punished for it. To rectify his mistake, Herak let go of the axe that was still held in his armpit, and at the same time lowered his head and rounded his back. His armor was thinner than usual, but it was still leather covered by chain mail, far too thick to break from the untrained hit of a weak commoner. Thus protected, he felt safe in picking up the axe he had just dropped, this time by its handle. Now that he was properly armed again, he would show these commoners how an axe swing was supposed to look.

As he did so, he felt another hit onto his back, which deflected off his rounded back without doing any damage. Then a second followed, with more force than he had thought, but it wasn't enough to stop him. In response to the attacks, he blindly swung his axe backwards to create some distance. In the same motion, he stood up with a half turn that increased the distance to the foes behind him. The pivot onto his injured foot hurt, but he simply grit his teeth through it.

Still more left.

This time, two commoners stood opposite him. One held a halberd, and there was yet another one with an axe. He thought that maybe the axe wielder was the one who had hit him first, and that the halberd had hit him second. After all, the back spike of the halberd's head was still covered in blood, his own, he presumed.

d.a.m.n. Careless again.

Only now did he feel his back grow hot. Maybe the sharp spike of metal, leveraged on the end of a long stick, really had been enough to punch a hole through his chain mail. Though it wouldn't change much. For now, he still didn't feel restrained in his movements. And even when injured, these commoners would have no chance against a true knight.

Clearly, his foes had learned from their mistakes and didn't charge at him again. Instead, they looked determined to drag out the fight. Motionless they stood together, one eager to keep Herak at a distance and the other covering at close range.

b.a.s.t.a.r.ds! You think you can oppose me!? You think you can injure me!? Who gives you the courage!? Your merchant!?

The more he thought about their arrogant att.i.tude, Herak ran at the commoners, his vision filled with blood. As the halberdier put his spear in the path and braced for impact, Herak suddenly threw the dagger in his right hand. As he switched the axe from left to right, the commoner with the halberd dodged the projectile.

However Herak had never expected such an obvious attack to kill a trained soldier. As the commoner jumped away to dodge, he also increased the distance to his companion and lost grip on his weapon. Now, it would be a one-on-one fight, at least for a few seconds.

More than enough.

The axe-wielding commoner panicked as he saw Herak run towards him. Like a child, the coward actually closed his eyes and tried to hold off the duke with blind, horizontal swings. With the experience of many battles, Herak simply judged the distance, waited for the commoner's swing to barely pa.s.s by in front of his body, and then lunged in for his own counter.

Like before, the duke's axe sliced into the commoner, this time his dominant arm. His eyes wide from shock, the soldier screamed and let go of his weapon.

Truly trained like a commoner.

In large groups and with good weapons, these people may have been considered a threat, but like this, nothing had changed at all from the old days before gunpowder. Herak thought so as he brought down the axe a second time, this time into the gap between the commoner's neck and chest. All sounds from the commoner stopped, as he stood like a puppet. Yet Herak spared him no glance, for there was still one left alive. And worst of all, it was the man who dared injure him. He had come to this camp for revenge, and he would get it. The next soldier would be a mere appetizer.