The defense in the open field, even with the purpose of protection, inevitably had to give up the initiative.
No matter how well-prepared the defensive structures were, they would become meaningless if the enemy bypassed them.
Even when attacking by approaching the enemy, once they broke through, it would be over. Thus, the best method was to lure them out.
Setting up defenses and preparing at a location while guiding the enemy to attack that place.
That was Aslan’s current objective.
“They’re coming.”
Tiamat’s voice echoed, and Aslan picked up the bow.
When it fell near Boren’s grave, it was a bow captured during the civil war.
For a while, since there wasn’t much use for it, it had merely been tucked into the side of his backpack. Aslan strung the bow and drew another arrow.
With feathers from Steamfalos’ wings attached to its tip, he swiftly pulled the string after placing the arrow on it.
Different from Tiamat’s posture which resembled pushing a mountain, Aslan aimed upwards as if pulling something from below.
Holding the tilted bow, Aslan exhaled the deep breath he had taken.
Kee-keek.
When Tiamat also pulled her bowstring as if overturning a mountain, the two bows emitted different sounds.
“They’re here.”
As Tiamat’s voice echoed and the sound of rapid approach began to be heard beyond the wailing of the bows, Aslan released the tilted bowstring.
The easiest way to lure them out was through sniping.
Two arrows split the air simultaneously, and beyond the dense tree line, someone revealed themselves.
It was the Executioner.
A martial artist taller than Tiamat, wielding two execution swords, with blood streaming from their eyes.
Towards this veteran martial artist with tiger-like patterns etched on their body, two arrows flew—one whistling through the air, the other hidden behind its shadow.
The Executioner immediately swung both weapons towards the arrows aimed at their heart and head.
Their arms and legs swelled, leaving only fleeting flashes of residual light before disappearing. Soon afterward, the sound of destruction was all that remained.
Crack! Zzzziiing!
The dense forest mist parted momentarily, revealing two slicing blades.
The heavily polished, weighty blades shattered the arrows fired by Tiamat, tracing a large circle in the air.
Dancing gracefully as though performing a ritual, the sweeping blades.
While listening to the sound of trees being sliced and falling, Aslan saw the martial artists following behind the Executioner.
Before they could join the fight led by their leader, the surrounding trees collapsed around them.
Avoiding or dodging the falling trees, a small number of people emerged.
They were the rest of Aslan’s group.
Everyone except Aslan and Tiamat. Excluding I’taar and Richard who couldn’t possibly be present here, three veterans and an ancient deity’s horseman.
They charged toward the martial artists, swinging their weapons. The Executioner twisted their bug-like face upon hearing the sound.
The monster-like distortion aimed directly at Aslan.
Aslan glared at the martial artist while aiming his bow, holding five remaining arrows in his other hand.
Both aiming and drawing the string happened in an instant. Five arrows simultaneously rushed toward the martial artist already within striking distance.
Thoom, tu-tu-tu, thoom!
The continuous firing felt almost rhythmic. The arrows traced dark paths through the air almost simultaneously.
The Executioner swept them aside with their blade.
Ka-ga-ga-kang!
Thus, the arrows were deflected.
As the broken shafts and freed feathers floated in the air, Aslan placed his hand on his cloak.
At that moment, the floating feathers stopped.
Including the feathers stuck in arrows previously shot by Aslan and those rolling on the ground, everything halted mid-motion.
The suspended feathers seemed to aim at the Executioner, who met them with their one remaining eye. In that instant, the feathers surged forward.
Feathers flying from afar in the forest and circling back around the Executioner, cutting into them.
Amidst the sight of every arrow Aslan had fired thus far returning, the Executioner clicked their tongue, tightly gripping their two execution swords before twisting their body.
As soon as they twisted, their muscles swelled. The enormous muscles, restrained within the chitin, contracted powerfully, and soon a storm of blades erupted.
Screaming!
Ka-ga-ga-kang!
The storm of blades scattered the feathers.
Though the movement appeared so swift that not even residual light could be seen, Aslan could discern the prelude and aftermath of the action.
The moment the Executioner skillfully and swiftly swung both execution swords, the feathers were scattered in all directions.
Through the swirling feathers, the silhouette of the Executioner darted forward.
Even with his magic countered, Aslan retreated without any sign of panic.
Creating distance, he fumbled for his quiver. Just as he grabbed an arrow, the Executioner charged.
Charging and striking down. The execution sword falling straight down along a direct trajectory neared Aslan, who thrust the bow forward toward the trajectory.
A bow that had once belonged to a martial artist but now lay neglected in Aslan’s hands finally fulfilled its role.
Kwa-chik!
The bow snapped and broke. Amidst the scattering fragments of animal bone, Aslan narrowly avoided the blade by leaning to the side.
Kwa-uk! The blade that carved through the ground retracted just as Aslan was helplessly thrown backward, rolling on the ground.
“Damn…! Stop!”
As Tiyamal aimed his bow and shouted to cover the gap, the Executioner raised their execution swords high.
A sense of unease and crisis struck her mind.
Tiyamal aimed but did not fire. Despite having an arrow nocked and ready to shoot, he held back from releasing the string.
Was he waiting for an opportunity?
No, it wasn’t that. Despite his shout, Tiyamal’s expression lacked any trace of crisis.
Reason clashed with luck, and intuition supported the latter. At the end of this chain, the Executioner reflexively tilted their head.
“Purity.”
“Mooncutting.”
The arrow held by Aslan transformed. What appeared to be a simple feather underwent a brief change, becoming a greatsword that surged forward.
Cutting through the moon reflected on the water’s surface, the greatsword’s trajectory stretched long.
A sudden streak of white light splitting the air.
Seeing the white light flashing beyond her remaining eye and recognizing it bending toward her neck, the Executioner belatedly raised their execution sword.
Ka-ga-ga-kak!
Divine weapons imbued with divine power. These weapons typically possessed durability far beyond ordinary ones, capable of breaking lesser weapons in combat.
Thus, the Executioner judged the current situation. Like being plunged into a smelting furnace, her execution swords were being worn down.
Flying sparks and metal shards in all directions. The sword blade dispersing as if melting right before her eyes. She widened her eyes in shock and twisted her body to evade the path carved by Purity.
‘This cutting power is insane…!’
The cutting power that severed the divine Execution Sword in one go. The blade grazing the ground, carving through soil and looping back. Sharp enough to sever the souls of whatever it touched, the Executioner widened the distance while looking at Aslan.
Distinct black hair and teal-green eyes. Rare eyes indeed, and the Executioner quickly realized who this man was.
“Aslan…!”
The grandmaster of combat, Aslan.
The moment she understood, the Executioner swiftly erased countless thoughts rising in her mind.
What incident brought him to Itar’s residence? Such trivial matters were dismissed.
Simply lowering her broken execution sword, the Executioner leaned forward. Using the momentum from the lean, she charged forward.
Raising her execution sword high, she rolled her eyes wildly.
Even with her narrowed vision, she could tell. Tiyamal was about to fire an arrow. Immediately, she hurled the execution sword reduced to a mere hilt toward the arrow aimed at her neck.
Ka-a-a-a-aang!
And they collided.
The arrow striking the hilt did not break. Pushing the hilt aside, the arrow surged forward again. But that brief delay was sufficient.
“Hraaaaaah!”
The woman screamed, accelerating to dodge the arrow. Her massive 3-meter frame kicked off the ground and surged forward, causing Tiyamal to pull out and throw his axe with a look of evident frustration.
The axe accurately heading for her shoulder.
Kwa-chik!
She simply absorbed the impact with her body. Since a mere axe wouldn’t kill her, the woman ignored the slight injury and swung her sword.
Converting the momentum from her charge into waist strength, she turned sideways, seemingly targeting Aslan’s flank like a crossbow bolt.
Just as the splashing dirt hit Aslan’s face, a gray afterimage formed a crescent moon.
A straightforward horizontal slash. A weighty strike heavy enough to shatter a human head with just a graze.
This was the technique the Executioner had honed throughout her life.
Simple as it may seem, it was a technique whose power and refinement couldn’t be underestimated.
Decapitation.
The space where the sword swung seemed distorted, and the sound of air splitting echoed with each strike.
Instinctively, Aslan realized this was an attack he couldn’t block.
If he blocked it with his weapon, the weapon would break. If he blocked it with Purity, it would be destroyed. Judging by the sheer force she briefly displayed, death would follow immediately upon destruction.
But blocking wasn’t necessary. Aslan had a method.
The incoming sword strike aimed at his neck was too fast. Too fast and too heavy to deflect. Even if he managed to block it, he’d lose his balance.
So not blocking was fine. Aslan immediately raised Purity.
“Summon Thunder.”
The white light raised higher grew even brighter, and an unexpected thunderclap resounded.
Kwa-rurururung!
In the dust stirred by the thunderclap, before the Executioner could comprehend the situation, Aslan’s Purity clashed with her execution sword.
Ka-kak! The Execution Sword being shaved away and Purity being pushed back. Before the two blades moved even an inch, a circular repulsion wave spread outward, shaking the dust.
Zzziiing!
The nature of Summon Thunder was to repel. True to its essence, the execution sword was violently deflected.
“Ugh…?!”
Fortunately, she didn’t lose her grip on the sword, but that was all. Her stance wavered significantly, throwing her off balance.
The Executioner suppressed her awkward expression and clenched her teeth, using her waist to absorb the recoil as she swung her sword downward.
Ka-aang!
The descending sword and Purity locked together. They grappled as the distance closed, and the entangled blades moved intricately.
The snake-like motion targeted the Executioner’s neck. Seeing the white light of Purity devouring her blade, the Executioner gritted her teeth and inflated her body.
First, push away. Distance is needed. She must escape from this abnormal cutting power.
The Executioner inflated her body massively and shook off the sword, sending Aslan flying and tumbling across the ground.
Dust rose as he rolled. Before it cleared, the Executioner leaped forward.
Approaching to deliver a downward strike with her raised execution sword, the woman bent her waist again upon sensing the chill.
An arrow whistling past the corner of her eye.
“Kk… ugh…!”
Though narrowly grazed, the chitin around her eye socket cracked, but her other eye remained intact.
It wasn’t a fatal wound. Still, Aslan lay sprawled on the ground.
Without panicking despite the confusion, the Executioner gripped her sword firmly, analyzing the situation and moving accordingly.
‘First, eliminate the troublesome archer.’
Her judgment was correct.
Thus, it was a predictable judgment. Aslan slashed toward the anticipated trajectory while still lying down.
The toxic needles spewed from the Executioner’s mouth were cleanly bisected by Purity, and amidst the scattering poison, Aslan and the Executioner clashed blades.
Aslan struck down, drew horizontally, thrust, and slashed diagonally upward—all movements to which the Executioner responded nimbly.
The moment Purity touched it, the blade was worn away, yet the single Execution Sword blocked, deflected, and redirected all attacks.
Before the Execution Sword broke, she carefully angled the blade to minimize contact with Purity.
Despite the metallic shards flying everywhere, the woman’s blade didn’t break.
However, it eventually reached its limit. Just as Aslan’s downward slash was barely blocked by sacrificing the crossguard of the Execution Sword, a deafening roar struck her ears.
Boooom!
The echoing roar. It was undoubtedly the sound of Tiyamal’s bow.
Having experienced it several times already, the woman recognized the sound and chose to swing her Execution Sword instead of blocking Aslan’s incoming attack.
“Sorry about that.”
Upon realizing his bow was empty, Tiyamal’s eyes widened.
The powerless Execution Sword motion stopped, and Aslan’s Purity traced a white trajectory.
Like a full moon, the perfectly round trajectory passed through the wrist of the Executioner holding the sword, continuing to carve into the ground before vanishing. The Executioner felt the warm sensation spreading through her wrist.
Plop.
Following the spreading warmth came a sense of liberation and pain. The heavy thud of flesh hitting the ground.
The Executioner turned her head to see the severed wrist and the Execution Sword it still clutched, drenched in blood on the ground.
“Damn.”
The situation wasn’t favorable.
Not only had the woman lost her wrist but also her twin cherished swords. Though the injury wasn’t severe, there was no clear way to turn the tide.
Moreover, the battlefield where the martial artists following her fought was evidently at a disadvantage, offering no help.
Perhaps she might die here. Smiling vividly despite her insect-like features, she thought.
“Funny, isn’t it?”
She said this even as Aslan pointed his sword at her.
Aslan couldn’t understand why she was smiling.
“…What’s so funny?”
The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she slowly extended her curved lips and spoke.
“You’ve prepared quite thoroughly. From luring us here with sniper shots to dispersing us and eliminating us individually…”
An unexpected statement. Unable to grasp its meaning, Aslan frowned, while the woman calmly observed him.
“Do you know how many of us there are?”
Geeek, the sound of Tiyamal drawing his bowstring echoed, and the woman glanced briefly at him.
“Twenty, aren’t there?”
As Tiyamal aimed his bow at her head and replied, the woman smirked.
“You know well. Yes, twenty. How unfortunate, isn’t it? There are only eighteen here now.”
“Would you expect me to believe that?”
A reflexive response. As Aslan glared at her, the woman chuckled.
“Believe it or not, it doesn’t matter. However…”
The Executioner added, reaching toward her waist.
“At least when I step into an obvious trap, I make sure to have some countermeasures in place. Something like a separate detachment, for instance.”
Separate detachment?
At the moment Aslan caught the implication and flinched, a distant roar echoed.
—Booooom.
The sound of something being crushed.
Aslan realized it was the sound made when destroying old wooden structures.
‘Really dangerous if it’s a separate detachment. Neither Richard nor Lord Itar alone can stop the martial artists.’
There’s a possibility it might not be true, but precautions must be taken.
Aslan glanced at Tiyamal, who was about to move in response to his gaze when…
“That won’t do.”
The Executioner’s casual remark made him stop.
She halted at a distance where she could threaten both Aslan and Tiyamal, then slowly tilted the hilt at her waist.
A sheath resembling a massive anvil emerged, and gradually, a sword blade glowing with white light appeared.
The emerging blade had an unusual appearance, clearly not an ordinary sword at first glance.
Indeed, it resembled serrated teeth or shark fins.
Gr-r-r-r-r-lng…!
Moreover, as the sword revealed itself, a sound akin to a beast growling resonated.
Aslan eventually realized it was the sound of metal grinding against metal inside.
The sound of metal grinding against each other, wearing and shaving each other away.
And at the moment Aslan noticed this, the woman’s sheath deformed.
Click, Cha-kang!
The sheath opened to the sides, tilting half-open as the already drawn serrated blade engaged, transforming into a longer serrated edge.
Like unfolding a folding razor, the extended serrated blade became a long sword.
A giant sword about 2 meters in length. To the Executioner, it was merely the size of a long sword, but Aslan instantly recognized it upon seeing it.
That this sword was not ordinary, but an artifact of the ancient deity.
“The name of this sword is Beast.”
The Executioner murmured softly.
“TRAMISOV’s Beast.”
Pointing the sword blade at Aslan, the chilling serrated edge gleamed coldly under the descending sunlight.
