Chapter 595

There are various types of burning smells.

The pungent smell of gunpowder. The bitter and harsh smell of cheap cigarettes. The appetizing smell of roasting meat. The foul and musty smell of an incinerator. Even the subtle minty aroma of magical cigarettes.

Though often lumped together as “burning smells,” the scent varies drastically depending on what’s being burned.

“Kyaaaaah!”

The smell of roasting squid wafts past my nose. The wind, mixed with melted fat, feels sticky. I take a couple of steps back and light a minty cigarette to mask the acrid burning smell.

Before my eyes lies hell.

“It’s hot! Fire! Please! Please, water!”

“Gyaaaaah!”

“My body, my body is melting!”

Human-like figures dance in the flames before melting away. Even those not directly touched by the fire can’t withstand the heat, collapsing as they cough up black smoke from their scorched lungs.

Even the most ferocious warriors, more brutal than brave, scream and writhe on the ground, unable to even draw their swords. Even if they did, the blades would melt into molten metal in no time.

‘Burns well. This brings back memories…’

I chuckle at the déjà vu and wipe the sweat dripping from my hood.

Late at night, with no moon in sight. Flames, writhing like dancing snakes, send ashes into the clouds. Through the heat-distorted haze, the warriors’ garrison turns to ash, fueled by wood, cloth, and corpses.

[Remember when we burned Amin’s garrison? I still recall them begging for mercy, their eyes pleading. Truly a delightful affair.]

The tone was filled with satisfaction and joy, like an old man reminiscing about his youth.

Well, fighting Amin felt similar too. Though the memories I’m recalling are from much earlier.

From a time when all three legs were still intact. Even in an era of bullets and artillery, fire remained an effective means of attack.

Though the scale of destruction is incomparable, cities engulfed by napalm bombings looked just like this.

‘Seems like everything’s burned. Should I put it out now? Where’s the next garrison?’

[To the northeast, about half a day’s ride from here.]

‘Close. They might’ve seen the flames from there.’

I extinguish the Life Force Technique and gaze at the melted garrison. The ground bubbles and boils, spewing foam, while crimson embers flicker atop unrecognizable ash.

– Hwaruk…!

The fire, fueled for so long, doesn’t fully die out even after the Life Force Technique fades. It’s not the flames conjured by mana or feats but the residual heat that keeps it burning.

‘Fire is convenient, but… cleanup is much cleaner with collapse. Do I have to put this out myself?’

[There’s nothing left to burn. Won’t it just die out on its own?]

True. I burned everything to the ground, so the embers won’t last long.

For a garrison housing hundreds of troops, it was a pitiful end. Without a single proper battle, they were wiped out in an instant, caught off guard in the night as I unleashed the Life Force Technique.

Though it consumed a fair amount of Life Force, a couple of days of rest would suffice to recover.

‘Isn’t this better than the World of Mortality?’

[Don’t talk nonsense. The firepower is useful, but if they hadn’t been careless, half of them could’ve escaped before burning. Even now…]

– Kwaddeuduk!

A sudden noise from beneath cuts Hersela off. The ground erupts like a landmine, dirt and weeds shooting up like a fountain.

“Damn sorcerer-!”

A fierce roar accompanies a warrior bursting from the ground, thrusting a spear at me. The source of the earlier presence, who had burrowed underground like a mole upon seeing the flames.

Unable to withstand the heat, his hair was gone, and his skin was charred and peeling… but indeed, a Paladin. Still alive, somehow.

Though it’s meaningless.

“Still moving, huh, in that state.”

I grab the spearhead with my left hand and grin. To him, it must’ve been a desperate ambush, but sadly, the vibrations under my feet and the Paladin’s aura gave him away long ago.

“That voice, those blue eyes…! You, could it be…!!”

Finally recognizing me, the mole-like Paladin lets out a shocked cry. Well, a Paladin of Orhan wouldn’t fail to recognize me at this distance.

“Yes, it’s Ha-shal-leur~ Your face is too burnt to tell who you are, but long time no see?”

“Traitor-!”

I wave my right hand in greeting, and he grinds his teeth, releasing the spear and swinging the curved sword at his waist.

Letting go of the spear instead of clinging to it shows decent combat sense, but it’s still meaningless.

“Too slow.”

I spin the spear in my left hand and strike down his sword vertically. A playful, gap-filled attack, but my jest was far faster than his desperate slash.

– Kwachang!

Like lightning striking the ground, the spearhead pierces the sword’s side, shattering it. Shards of metal embed themselves in his forehead, like a sudden horn sprouting.

Miraculously missing his brain, the Paladin screams instead of dying.

“Kyaaaaah!”

“Hey, you’ve got a horn now! A sharp horn on that blackened face. You’re practically a monster!”

I kick his legs, breaking them, and step on his chest as he collapses, bending down.

“Guh…! Traitor, how dare you set foot on the grasslands again…?”

Even in agony, the Paladin glares at me with eyes full of hatred.

“Traitor? I’ve never betrayed my side, not once in my life. I’m the most loyal of the loyal. Our directions just differ.”

It’s not a crime to choose mom over dad without hesitation, right? Well, neither are my parents, but still.

Of course, to the Paladin, this was a joke that made his blood boil, as he spewed curses with all his might.

“Shameless bastard…! Kagan… Kagan will tear you to pieces!”

“Kagan…? Ah, you mean Orhan.”

Kagan, huh? Calling himself the Emperor of the Grasslands, it seems he succeeded in unifying the Great Plains.

“Quite the rise, our father. As his child, I can only congratulate him.”

I flick my cigarette and joke. It would’ve been easier if he’d failed and died.

[Congratulations? What a distasteful joke. You’re not his daughter or anything.]

Hersela grumbles in my head.

Though she knows it’s a joke, the insults about being a prostitute or a bastard seem to have gotten to her.

‘Well, there’s that saying about children born from the heart, right? Something like that.’

[Stop talking nonsense.]

Hersela chuckles, her tone still harsh.

I laugh along.

– Uduk!

Ah.

“Guh…! Ha…shal…leuuuur…!”

Laughing, I must’ve put too much force into my foot, as the Paladin’s ribs all break, and he coughs up sticky blood, screaming my name with hatred.

Of course, it changes nothing. He’s just flapping his mouth, unable to move properly.

Both legs are gone, his right arm shattered with bone fragments sticking out, but his left arm could still move if he wanted to resist…

Whether his last attack drained his strength or his ribs being crushed stopped him, he can’t even clench his fist, let alone swing his arm.

His eyes losing focus, it’s clear he’ll die within a minute if left alone.

“Ha…shal…leuuuur…!”

“Calling me so desperately, were we that close?”

I look down at the twitching, horned mole roast and playfully tap the metal shard embedded in his forehead.

“Kuh…!”

He screams and convulses with each tap, like a mad scientist electrocuting a brain.

“Tell me your name, and I might remember. Why not?”

A Paladin’s name is something Hersela might know.

“Guh, kuh… Who… would tell… you…!”

Instead of answering, the Paladin spits curses.

Guess he won’t tell me his name.

Not that I care. I wasn’t interested anyway.

A healthy Paladin might be different, but what use is the name of someone already crossing the Sanzu River?

“Ah, well? Then just die.”

Without hesitation, I press down on his forehead. The metal shard pierces through his skull and exits the back of his head.

“Guh…!”

With a final scream, the Paladin’s eyes roll back.

—

After tossing the Paladin’s corpse into the fire pit, I leave the burnt garrison. Lingering too long would risk pursuit.

Though my role is to draw the attention of Ka`har’s main force, getting caught this early would be problematic.

The special forces still need another day before deployment.