Switching Sides in Battle

Edgar wasn't the only one on the wall. Blaidd? was there too.

As the "White Wolf War-Witch," he ought to have been the most eager to fight. With a war unfolding right before him, he had no reason to sit idle.

But Edgar hadn't sent him into battle.

Edgar's strategy was simple: use the Misbegotten to wear down the Demi-Humans.

The Misbegotten were slaves. Wasn't putting slaves on the front line common sense?

Soldiers stood behind them to hold the line and oversee the battle. If any Misbegotten dared run back, they would kill them.

The open ground of Castle Morne was packed with little monsters. They howled as they fought, wielding only crude, shoddy weapons.

It looked just like a brawl between primitive humans. Claws and teeth were weapons granted by nature, and scratching and biting were obligatory.

Some people called war "art." Zhao Si had no particular opinion on that. He had lived in peacetime, never served in the military, let alone fought in a war. He hadn't even been in a fistfight.

This was his first time seeing an actual battlefield, and he couldn't understand what any of it had to do with art.

Anyone who compared war to art was probably on the winning side-and didn't have to take the battlefield themselves.

Blood and severed limbs flew through the air. The ordinary dirt road had long since turned to mud. Blood from Misbegotten and Demi-Humans seeped into the earth and stained the weeds red.

"How much longer will this last?" Zhao Si asked, resting a hand on a battlement.

Only then did Edgar notice Zhao Si. He smiled and said, "The Misbegotten are nearly finished, and the Demi-Humans can't breach Castle Morne's walls."

"Is this your strategy?" Zhao Si was merely asking an ordinary question.

But an innocent question could sound quite different to its listener. Edgar's expression shifted. "Finger Maiden, what do you mean by that?"

Zhao Si hadn't expected Edgar to be so touchy. "I was just asking."

Edgar let out a long breath. "This is indeed a necessary strategy."

He narrowed his eyes as he watched the Demi-Humans advance toward Castle Morne, then decisively ordered the soldiers to withdraw, shut the gates, and raise the Lift, leaving all the Misbegotten outside.

Zhao Si asked, "Are all the castle's Misbegotten here?"

"Yes, they're all here." Edgar found Zhao Si rather strange. Why did this envoy care so much about the Misbegotten?

Zhao Si stared for a long while, then said, "Wasn't there a Lion Misbegotten too? Why isn't it here?"

"How do you know there's a Lion Misbegotten in my castle?" Edgar asked.

"I saw the graveyard through the window that day. There was a Lion Misbegotten in it," Zhao Si lied offhandedly. "I just noticed it wasn't here."

"It certainly isn't here. It's guarding the graveyard." Edgar thought nothing more of it.

But then everything changed. The Misbegotten fighting the Demi-Humans all stopped, turned their weapons around, and charged the soldiers.

There were only a handful of soldiers overseeing the battle. Seeing the Demi-Humans and Misbegotten join forces, the soldiers, long out of practice, panicked. The Misbegotten killed them before they could react.

The savage Misbegotten tore into the soldiers with their teeth. The Demi-Humans followed behind and seized the gates and the Lift before anyone else could reach them.

Edgar froze. "How could this happen?"

Zhao Si wanted to ask the same thing. How could this happen?

Blaidd? wasted no words. He grabbed the Lift's iron chain, slid down, and charged alone into the mass of Misbegotten.

He was ferocious. Zhao Si admired Blaidd? from the bottom of his heart.

Zhao Si was about to follow him down when a lion's roar rang out from the direction of the Lord's Manor.

"I'll go take a look!"

Without waiting for Edgar's instructions, Zhao Si sprinted along the wall, taking a shortcut to the Lord's Manor.

He wasn't a Tarnished whose movements were restricted by a game. With Helena and Irina filling his thoughts, he made full use of his high agility, running along walls and leaping over rooftops like the Prince of Persia. He reached the Lord's Manor within minutes.

There he saw a red-maned Lion Misbegotten hefting the Grafted Greatsword and pounding at the door. Soldiers' corpses littered the ground at its feet, all mangled, their bellies torn open and their guts spilled everywhere.

-These beasts coordinated an attack from inside and out!

That was Zhao Si's first thought.

Whether the Misbegotten and Demi-Humans truly lacked intelligence still needed investigation. Humans had human speech, and beasts had their own tongues. These creatures might well share a language.

At that moment, Zhao Si burst into curses again. "A bunch of idiots! Always studying useless nonsense-couldn't you have actually studied these creatures properly?"

Cursing didn't stop him from drawing his Dual Blades and leaping off the wall, bringing both blades down on the Lion Misbegotten with the force of his fall.

The Lion Misbegotten let out a strange cry and raised the Grafted Greatsword to block.

Clang!

The weapons collided. The shock numbed Zhao Si's hands, and his Dual Blades shattered, scattering fragments everywhere.

Even the powerfully built Lion Misbegotten staggered under the blow and fell back against the wall.

Zhao Si got a clear look at its face. Judging by the ice crusting it, the Lion Misbegotten had already suffered at Alberich's hands.

Thank goodness. Thank goodness neither Alberich nor Helena was helpless.

Discarding the broken hilts, Zhao Si drew the Sacrificial Axe with his left hand, gripped the Estoc in his right, and summoned ghostflame.

Destructive spirit flame flowed from his palms into his weapons, cold flames coiling around their edges.

With an animal's sixth sense, the Lion Misbegotten instinctively sensed extreme danger. It roared, trying to intimidate Zhao Si.

Zhao Si only wanted to drive the Estoc into its gaping mouth.

He drew a deep breath and swept both weapons through the air, burning it and leaving two winding trails of flame.

Flowing Sword-trailing blades of light!

Ghostflame combined with the Flowing Sword, surging like water to engulf the Lion Misbegotten.

Rapid attacks rained down on the Lion Misbegotten. It used the Grafted Greatsword's sheer size to block them.

On one side was a furious storm of attacks, flames flying everywhere.

On the other was a desperate defense that grew weaker by the moment.

The ghostflame's chill traveled through the weapon into the Lion Misbegotten's hands, nearly freezing the blood in its veins.

"Roar!" The Lion Misbegotten endured two direct hits, the blood in its torn shoulder freezing, and heaved its greatsword upward to force Zhao Si back.

Then it leaped into the air, using its feline abilities to tumble while briefly suspended above the ground, its greatsword tracing a vertical circle.

Finally, it locked onto Zhao Si's position and cleaved downward.

If that strike landed squarely, it would split horse and rider alike.

Zhao Si had attacked recklessly, never considering a retreat. The Lion Misbegotten's counterattack was exceptionally swift, leaving him nowhere to go. He was about to be cut in half.

He clenched his teeth. In desperation, inspiration struck: he could test the essence of the Flowing Sword.

Between life and death

was the moment best suited to awakening one's potential and grasping the essence of swordsmanship.

He crossed the Estoc and Sacrificial Axe, seemingly preparing to meet the Grafted Greatsword head-on.

In truth, just before the weapons collided, Zhao Si used the Flowing Sword's ability to sense his opponent's force, and his body began to flow.

The instant the weapons finally struck each other, Zhao Si relaxed his entire body-utterly and completely-allowing the Lion Misbegotten's force to act upon him.

The expected scene of him being cleaved in half never came. Like floating duckweed, Zhao Si was squeezed aside by the Lion Misbegotten's power and sent flying.

It felt like trying to squeeze a puddle of water in one's fist. The water would always slip through the gaps between the fingers.

Zhao Si spun through the air, feeling the Lion Misbegotten's force flow through his body before gathering entirely in his left hand.

Wreathed in ghostflame, the Sacrificial Axe severed the Lion Misbegotten's enormous head with a single blow. The lion's head rolled onto the ground.

Ghostflame covered the severed stump, and no blood spurted out.