The monster of Krabrige.
The knight of Leranda.
Rumel didn’t know much about the name.
However, there were rumors that the warriors spread around.
Information that made one doubt its authenticity, products of imagination where guessing was all one could do.
When Rumel recalled those rumors and saw the two approaching priests, they took a stance.
The first to make a move was the knight of Leranda.
The unicorn-like horn of the lance aimed straight as the knight of Leranda accelerated.
The horn rushing to pierce seemed to leave an afterimage, streaking forward as it gained speed.
Already too fast to follow with the eyes.
For Rumel, whose agility was just slightly above average for a human, there was no way to discern the thrust.
They were only able to react thanks to Rumel’s extreme skill.
Rumel’s survival instinct and technique extended the lance.
At the moment the horn and spearhead collided.
ZING!
A metallic sound rang out as Rumel felt a pain akin to their wrist being bent backward.
Even though the weapon was based on a beast’s horn, the sound that rang like metal proved the opponent was a priest.
An instinctive block against the strike.
As Rumel gripped their almost-breaking wrist and tried to retrieve the lance, swallowing their grinding teeth.
KRRAAAK!
Following the trajectory Rumel attempted to push away, the knight of Leranda moved swiftly.
Using the force from kicking off the ground, breaking the balance of power, adjusting strength through the recoil, and twisting the lance.
A masterful technique threading through the sparks flying like mad.
Manipulation of weight and speed through the four legs, in perfect harmony.
All of this came together harmoniously, causing Rumel’s thrust to be deflected uselessly.
KAHHH!
“Ugh…!”
It felt like their wrist was breaking. Without the dress made by Anton, it would have broken long ago.
While barely steadying their trembling posture, Rumel glared at the knight before them.
The lower half resembled that of a horse and deer, while the upper body was human.
A handsome face hidden under a bone helmet resembling the horn of a unicorn and made of the same material, with sharp claws adorning the four legs.
The expert in lances who leaps over the Leranda ravine to impale intruders.
Recalling the rumor that they were practically a horse themselves, Rumel understood it to be true.
A technical acceleration Aslan would have called “horse-and-rider-as-one.”
As the sound of hooves flashed past momentarily, the knight of Leranda disappeared from Rumel’s sight once more, reappearing right before them.
What followed was countless thrusts.
Facing the downpour of lances invisible to the eye, Rumel steadied their judgment and aimed.
A blow that would have pierced the head and heart of any ordinary person long ago.
If the timing to receive the attack was even a little late, it would surely pierce through.
Attacks so fast they couldn’t be perceived.
‘I can’t see them.’
But Rumel read it through intuition.
‘But if I…’
The spear shaft spun around. Correcting it and striking in the moment.
CLANG!
The spearhead barely blocked the lance.
‘I’ll thrust now.’
Recognizing an attack imperceptible to the senses, Rumel moved their spear with full force, reading the knight’s psychology.
KAGAGAGAANG!
An attack aimed at the heart.
Deflecting its trajectory by colliding with Judgment.
An invisible downward strike.
Twisting the course mid-trajectory with a thrust.
Actions surpassing the limits of human capability.
Though barely able to block them with heightened intuition, there was no countermeasure to turn the tide.
Instead, every time Rumel blocked an attack, they staggered and were pushed back.
After merely a few exchanges, Rumel’s legs trembled violently, forcing them to grit their teeth and grip the spear tightly.
Continuing this fight would mean death. They had to try something.
‘Then I’ll aim for the openings created by the four legs.’
Judging thus, Rumel tightened their grip on the spear.
Golden electricity coursed up the spear shaft, sparking at the spearhead as the knight’s front and hind legs crossed.
Judging there was no time to evade, Rumel thrust upward with the spear.
FIZZ, KOOOOWW!
The spearhead, imbued with lightning, thunderously missed despite the perfect opportunity when the creature adjusted its footing.
Realizing it was a feint deliberately set up, Rumel was already being punished for their reckless attack.
“Die, Holrn.”
A softly spoken phrase.
As the knight of Leranda aimed a rear kick with their forelegs, reminiscent of a horse, it unleashed devastating power.
KWAHHH!
Powerful enough to send Rumel flying despite barely blocking it with Judgment. Their body was flung back, rolling along the ground.
A formidable power capable of making a human roll on the ground for over five seconds.
Just as Rumel recovered from the shock, a massive shadow loomed over them.
It was the monster of Krabrige.
The priest said to physically devour all coastal villages.
An immortal warrior said to break even the strongest walls with their forelimbs and withstand any attack.
Rumel realized the secret lay in the claws of the forelimbs currently plunging toward them.
More precisely, in the crystallized bone armor covering from the forelimbs to most of the upper body.
Reacting instinctively, Rumel raised Judgment to block the claw.
KAAAAAAANG!
“Ughh…”
Groaning under the mass pressing down upon Judgment.
“Let go of Lumel!”
KWAANG!
Had Phey not delivered a flying kick to their face in that moment, Rumel would have been crushed.
As Rumel angled the spear to deflect the claw, Phey pointed their red longsword at the motionless Krabrige monster and shouted.
“Lumel, run!”
Before Rumel could react, Phey and the monster clashed.
A red bolt shot forward as the monster countered.
KAGAGAGAANG, CHHEENG!
A razor-sharp exchange hard to follow with the eyes.
The high-speed battle Rumel watched but couldn’t comprehend contained one clear indication.
“IIIITTT…!”
Phey’s attacks weren’t landing.
Accelerating by kicking off into the air and delivering spinning kicks, Phey swung their sword without landing, yet every strike was deflected.
Standing firm without defense, the monster’s bone armor.
WHOOSH, CLANG!
The red longsword’s flowing flames surged as they struck the monster, but it simply tilted its body or extended its forelimbs to block the attacks.
Like a fighter clad in iron armor. A scene as if combat techniques were taught to a beast.
When the precisely extended forelimbs narrowly grazed Phey’s hair, cutting through the air, both Phey and Rumel realized.
This wasn’t just a simple monster, but a warrior-monster.
To pierce through that armor-like exoskeleton required a powerful attack.
“Tsk!”
As Phey clicked their tongue preparing to unleash that great power.
“GROOOAAAR!”
Mutated soldiers charged en masse toward Phey.
Soldiers charging like a single entity.
Armed with spears, axes, swords, and shields, targeting the much smaller elf.
Yet their chillingly focused malice was undeniable.
Phey retracted their intended attack, kicking off into the air to create distance from the Krabrige monster.
POW!
Using the generated momentum, they severed the neck of one soldier.
As Phey’s bladework infiltrated the ranks of soldiers, the soldiers desperately sought to capture and kill them.
The mutual malice. Shouts and cries of pain. Watching these interlocking moments, Rumel understood Phey’s thoughts.
It was a cold calculation.
Since Rumel couldn’t stop these soldiers, Phey decided to do so.
Understanding Phey’s chosen judgment, Rumel realized they had to deal with these two priests somehow while Phey held them off.
Despite how distant and improbable it seemed, it had to be done.
Clenching their teeth, Rumel faced the gazes of the two approaching priests.
Thinking about how things had come to this, Rumel shouted and met them head-on.
In truth, Rumel knew exactly why this had happened.
Rumel thought:
Because they were the least useful member of the group.
What Rumel excelled at was wielding a spear and acting.
They weren’t as powerful as Angie or Tiamat, nor as fast as Phey.
Moreover, Ereta possessed divine power, making comparisons impossible.
Richard might have been the most human, but he possessed superior physical prowess and magical tattoos compared to Rumel.
Even disregarding that, Richard possessed irreplaceable skills, leaving Rumel feeling pitiful whenever comparisons were made.
Rumel believed they were the least useful among the group.
KAAAANG!
Amidst the ringing metallic sounds and the storm of lance strikes, Rumel mulled over this fact again.
What Rumel could do, others in the group could also accomplish.
Conversely, what the group could do, Rumel could not.
KAGAGAK, SWISH!
“Khhk…”
The slashing forelimb of the monster. Blocked by the spear shaft, yet the dress hem and chest armor were torn apart like paper.
Seeing the scattering shards of steel, Rumel thought:
If someone else from the group were here instead of Rumel,
Perhaps they would have already joined forces with Phey to subdue these priests by now.
Because Rumel was here, it had come to this.
GIKIKIKEEK, KAANG!
Thoughts ceased when Rumel’s feeble counterattack was deflected uselessly.
The knight of Leranda deflecting the spear strike by tilting the lance.
The dispersed force unbalancing Rumel’s stance allowed the knight of Leranda to thrust the lance without hesitation.
KWADDDDEK!
“Kkk, uh, AAAAAAH!”
As the lance pierced Rumel’s side eliciting a scream, the knight of Leranda lifted the lance overhead to swing it down.
SQUEEAL, KWAH!
Rumel’s body being hurled away. Feeling the magic-infused dress reach its limit and revert to plain clothing as Rumel rolled across the ground.
Blood gushing from their mouth and spreading from the punctured side, staining the ground.
“Lumel!”
Rumel, panting heavily, shivering like a quaking aspen, crawled weakly, prompting Phey to cry out.
“Uuuuh, move! Move aside!”
Wanting to help Rumel but prevented by the soldiers, the elven girl.
Limbs severed and heads chopped off by the crimson blade slicing through the battlefield, yet the soldiers desperately blocked Phey’s path.
Desiring their lord to finish Lumel, the last daughter of the Holrn family.
Realizing that without help, the Holrns would end here.
Even the knight of Leranda and the monster of Krabrige believed so.
The two priests slowly approached.
The evident confidence stemmed from their certainty that Rumel was already finished, causing Rumel to clutch their side and weakly look up at the priests.
Everyone present knew Rumel was useless.
Rumel themselves knew it.
Even if they fled, no one would blame them.
Hadn’t Phey said to flee?
Aslan had asked Rumel to prioritize their life.
Aslan and Phey had known.
From the start, it was an impossible fight for Rumel.
However.
Recalling Aslan’s request to prioritize their life, Rumel remembered other things as well.
Remembering how Aslan never spared themselves despite saying that.
How Aslan never retreated from difficult battles.
And recalling Aslan’s example, Rumel thought:
If they didn’t fight here and now, Rumel would remain nothing more than useless Rumel.
The fact that they had fled, abandoned their comrades, and betrayed expectations would haunt them forever.
Beyond that, fleeing would lead to consequences Rumel couldn’t ignore.
If Rumel fled, Phey would likely be severely injured or die alone.
They might even reach Aslan beyond Phey.
Many soldiers would die or be injured then, and Aslan would surely be harmed too.
‘…I don’t want that.’
So, Rumel stood up.
Breathing heavily, blood smeared at the corner of their mouth, gripping their pierced side.
Leaning on the spear, they managed to stand up.
Snow began falling, accumulating on their shoulders and head, seeping coldness through the pierced wound.
Shivering from the cold nonetheless, the woman stared straight ahead.
Upon seeing this, the Krabrige monster snorted and said:
“I’ll finish it.”
Approaching death. Watching the monster stride closer, Rumel thought.
The spear technique honed by observing stronger individuals over their shoulder.
From Thor Mull’s spiral spear, knights’ technical spearplay, bounty hunters’ cunning spear techniques, to monsters’ wild spear usage.
None of the existing tactics or spear techniques could defeat these priests.
With all previous methods shattered now, Rumel had to bring forth a new spear technique.
They had to change tactics and employ a stronger spear.
The strongest spear Rumel could wield.
And within Rumel’s knowledge, there was only one spear stronger than theirs.
There was only one person with a stronger spear technique than Rumel knew.
What needed to be mimicked now was that strongest spear technique.
Not a master of combat but someone who could have become a master in swords, fighting, spears, blunt weapons, bows, or magic.
“…”
Rumel muttered.
A voice too soft to be heard. Too faint for the approaching Krabrige monster to hear.
With a puzzled expression, the monster watched as Rumel closed their eyes.
And recalled.
The back of a certain man.
That broad back and eyes filled with wisdom.
Those eyes, coldly focused on the enemy, burning brightly and purely with determination.
That noble yet lonely, somewhat precarious expression.
Imitating that, Rumel slowly changed their stance.
They retrieved the spear they had leaned on.
Following the indomitable spirit that rose repeatedly against adversity and strong opponents.
Using the whispered words as a crutch.
Stumbling yet following the trajectory drawn in the air.
Switching from holding the spear with both hands to one hand.
The stance faced forward.
Regulating their labored breathing, the woman spoke.
“I am…”
Empathy through the superhuman intuition unique to humans. Mimicking Aslan, Rumel resonated with it.
A deep breath exhaled visibly.
The white breath dissipates amidst the falling snowflakes.
Slowly opening eyes tinged with hazel, the woman looked at the monster.
Though the enemy is colossal.
Their own strength is meager.
Life fragile.
Still.
Nevertheless.
If they don’t fight, they will regret it even in death.
They will regret the loss obtained by not doing what they should, avoiding it.
Thus they fight.
Hair fluttering in the wind, the woman recalled a male voice amidst the dancing strands and spoke.
“I am… Aslan.”
“…What?”
The monster’s bewildered reaction. Yet Rumel paid it no heed.
Bringing their hand to their waist, Rumel drew the Emperor’s Sword.
SWISH!
Gripping the Emperor’s Sword in their left hand, Rumel stood tall confidently.
A pose identical to Aslan’s.
A confident stance confronting death and fear.
Crossing the lowered spear and sword blades, the woman exhaled.
Amidst the falling snowflakes, the woman’s fear faded into whiteness and disappeared.
Finally, the woman grasped what lay beyond fear.
[Lumel von Holrn]
[Strength 1] [Agility 2] [Health 1]
[Mana 1] [Determination 2] [Luck 5]
People called it courage.
