The Platoon Leader of the 4th Platoon, belonging to the Heavy Infantry Company, was a commander who had recently transferred to this unit from the center.
âDamn it.â
Since he was affiliated with the unit, he decided to adapt and conduct actual combat training by going on a mission to exterminate monsters.
Of course, it was quite large in scale for such a task.
The original mission was to exterminate a large pack of humanoid dogs.
Still, it was fine.
The Heavy Infantry didnât get the reputation of being a force that could devour Krona for nothing.
Ultimately, he embarked on the mission, confident in the power of his unit.
Suddenly, a harpy appeared.
It was a troublesome situation.
Why did a harpy suddenly show up?
He called for support.
The Heavy Infantry formed a defensive formation.
In the meantime, a few soldiers supporting the unit died.
While the crossbow bolts flew aimlessly, the reinforcements arrived.
Just two light infantry soldiers.
âAre you kidding me?â
They even recklessly stepped into the harpyâs attack zone without fear.
That was suicide.
The commander didnât know Encrid or Rem.
He was still adapting to the atmosphere within the unit, having recently transferred.
Of course, he had heard about the Spell Breaker and the notorious Squad Leader, but he didnât have time to worry about that.
When he saw the two during the extermination operation, he was furious.
âShit!â
Curses naturally escaped his mouth. Even if there was subtle tension between the Heavy Infantry and the Light Infantry.
Watching his comrades die in front of him was not enjoyable.
Who would want to see heads torn off by a harpy?
The two light infantry soldiers were Encrid and Rem, and the fact that only the two of them appeared was because they didnât wait for the other unit members and joined first.
Thus, the archer unit requested from the main force hadnât even arrived yet.
âHey, back offâŠ!â
He was in such a hurry that he couldnât finish his sentence. He wanted to tell them to run away or duck their heads.
In this position, they could withstand the harpyâs claws and attacks.
Over thick gambesons, chainmail, and a breastplate reinforced with thin iron plates, steel gauntlets, and greaves.
On top of that, they held square shields and formed a defensive formation.
It was a strategic defensive posture befitting the nickname âTurtle Heavy Infantryâ.
They could hold out until the reinforcements arrived.
Therefore, to the harpy, those who were less protected were easier prey.
The harpy, spotting the new prey, rushed at terrifying speed.
The commander saw the red feather fall and draw a long arc downward.
Even if he wanted to help, he had no means to do so.
Now, he could only quietly watch them die and vow revenge later.
Just as the harpyâs claws were about to split the soldierâs head.
Clang.
Schwack.
The commander heard the friction of metal and the sound of flesh being cut.
All he saw was the harpyâs back.
Since the harpyâs body size was similar to an adult male, he couldnât see exactly what the light infantry soldier had done, obscured by the falling harpy.
What he did see was the harpyâs wing tearing, its body hitting the ground like a failed skipping stone, bouncing once in the air, then rolling on the ground.
The harpy, which had flaunted its red feathers and bouncing breasts, was now half-covered in blood, with dust covering its entire body.
âKiiieeeeee!â
The harpy lying on the ground wailed. The commander couldnât even blink.
What is this?
ââŠHuh?â
In an incomprehensible situation, only a single question remained.
The commanderâs eyes scanned the situation, soon forcing everything into the realm of understanding.
The harpy flew in.It was cut down with a sword?Is that even possible?
It was an extraordinary feat rarely seen.
What if the harpyâs claws had deviated slightly? What if the timing was missed? What if the cutting power was insufficient?
Everything would have been a problem.
The fact that someone would do such a thing was crazy.
Who would dare to do such a thing against a charging harpy?
Even in the Border Guard known as the Slaughterer of the Frontier, how many could pull off something like that?
Screech!
Luck. It was incredibly fortunate. Apparently, he wasnât the only one who thought so, as two more harpies circling above glided down, targeting the two again.
They were fast. It sounded like the harpyâs claws were tearing through the air.
The commanderâs eyes focused on the two light infantry soldiers who had come as reinforcements.
The angle of the harpiesâ attack was different from before.
The commander clearly saw how the two responded.
Although he saw it, he still had nothing to say, as their movements were beyond his comprehension.
The soldier with the axe dodged the incoming claws by twisting his body, then swung the axe.
He only registered that it had been swung.
Before he knew it, the harpyâs head split vertically with a loud crack.
The harpy, whose head was split, plunged to the ground, leaving marks like a burst tomato. It left a long bloodstain as it slid across the ground, with the split-headed harpy lying there.
Another harpy was dead.
It was a visible feat of axe-wielding.
The other soldier did something similar.
The soldier who had initially torn the harpyâs wing now held his sword and slashed vertically again.
How is that possible?
As he swung his sword, it seemed like the harpy was rushing towards the blade.
It was a result of predicting the harpyâs movements and swinging the sword.
If that wasnât a feat, what else could it be?
Thud!
However, this time, the aim was slightly off, and the harpyâs chest was slashed.
The soldierâs sword split the harpy in half, but he also lost his grip on the sword.
Not that it made any difference.
Screech.
The sword was embedded between the harpyâs two breast-like mounds.
The harpy tumbled to the ground, once again scattering blood.
Its guts were split and shattered.
That one, too, was as good as dead.
The commander involuntarily looked up.
There were eight harpies left.
They hadnât killed a single one, but three had died as soon as these two arrived.
Border Guard?
The commander misunderstood his opponents. Their skills were too overwhelming to be considered mere soldiers.
Was this what elite soldiers were like?
He had heard rumors about the Slaughterer of the Frontier before being transferred, butâŠ
It didnât seem to be to this extent.
In the commanderâs eyes, he saw a group approaching from behind the two.
They were all carrying projectile weapons, such as throwing spears, longbows, and crossbows.
They wore cloaks and had eagle insignias on their epaulettes.
The real Border Guard.
The guard leading them also assessed the situation. He saw it with his own eyes.
Their skillsâŠ
Had improved. To the point where it was hard to confidently say they could be easily defeated.
The one leading the guard was Torres.
He was the platoon leader of the Border Guard, who had various ties with Encrid.
Judging someoneâs skills solely by their ability to kill monsters was foolish.
However, Torres knew he didnât have the confidence to pull off such feats against an incoming harpy.
Especially not twice in a row.
Luck?
Torres had the same thought as the heavy infantry platoon commander.
At that moment, the third harpy flew in.
Torresâs gaze dropped from the harpy to below.
There, he saw Encrid pulling a sword out from the chest of a recently slain harpy.
âHey!â
Torres shouted. It was a warning to look up.
* * *
What should he call this?
Encrid connected the dots.
He split the time.
He swung his sword as his instincts guided him.
As a result, he cut the wing of the first harpy.
âWhistle.â
Next to him, Rem whistled. The lingering sensation in his grip conveyed the harpyâs hefty weight.
No problem. He picked up his sword again. The harpy flew in, and this time he slashed the chest and let go of his sword.
If he had kept holding it, his hand might have torn apart.
His judgment was accurate.
A single strike connecting the dots, a powerful sword slash.
The result was the death of the monster.
As Encrid bent over and swung his sword down, the harpyâs claws passed over his head.
The sound of it tearing through the air was chilling, but it didnât feel dangerous.
Just dodge it.
A simple attack pattern.
Dodge, slash, stab. It was an application of swordsmanship.
He stepped onto the bouncing chest of the dead harpy, placing his foot where a humanâs collarbone would be, and pulled out his sword.
âScreech.â
Such tenacity. Its chest was half-split, with intestines spilling out, yet it blinked.
It was still alive.
Encrid was looking at the harpy he had slashed, but his senses were focused on the surroundings, particularly the harpy diving from above.
He could feel the airâs vibrations without seeing it.
His senses were clearer than ever.
âHey!â
He heard the shout, but he was already moving before that.
He stabbed the wing of the dying harpy with the tip of his sword and pushed with all his strength.
Crack!
The muscles in both his arms strained, and he exerted force from his waist and thighs.
He lifted the dying harpy upwards.
Whack!
The incoming harpy collided with it and tumbled to the ground.
After blocking the harpy with another harpy, Encrid rolled to the side, using the technique of dispersing the impact by moving his body intentionally and predictably to absorb the remaining shock.
As soon as he got up from the roll, Encrid quickly dashed towards the fallen harpyâs head and brought his sword down on it.
The blade split the harpyâs head with a sound like splitting firewood.
That makes four.
Rem had killed one, and Encrid had killed three.
The first one that fell already had a quarrel lodged in its head by a nearby soldier.
Flap, flap. The group of harpies that had been flapping their wings above them began to scatter. Harpies were not creatures that engaged in unwinnable fights.
They had fled.
Encrid, with his arms hanging down, swallowed his disappointment.
âA few more times.â
He wanted to keep fighting. He needed more experience. He was still in the process of learning and internalizing what he had been taught.
He needed more actual combat to adapt and learn.
Then, he could fully incorporate what he had gained from the sewers into his body.
âAll good?â
Rem chuckled beside him. Being a perceptive barbarian, he seemed to have already grasped Encridâs state.
âAnyone else would say youâre crazy, but at this point, you can be called extraordinary. But itâs quite strange. I thought you needed more real combat, but how did it happen again in just one day?â
He didnât delve too deeply but expressed his curiosity. It was natural. Achieving such a remarkable improvement in just one day with seemingly the worst talent was not normal.
Encrid uttered his usual excuse.
âI was lucky.â
Rem knew one couldnât develop such skills with just luck. But he didnât intend to argue.
After all, what did it matter?
Seeing this guy so excited to wield his sword made it fun for him too.
âThere was a time when I barely survived being chased by harpies.â
Encrid muttered.
âReally?â
âYeah.â
It wasnât a statement filled with emotion or meaning. It was just something that had happened.
Encrid remembered the comrades who had died then. And he shook off the memory.
âThis might not be revenge, butâŠâ
At least there was satisfaction in having killed the harpy swarm. The disappointment still outweighed it, though.
âYou two, your affiliationâno, but.â
The commander, who had been holding the defensive formation like a turtle, approached. He seemed bewildered.
âSquad Leader Encrid of the 4th Squad, 4th Platoon, 4th Company.â
He answered and saluted.
âSquad Leader? Not the Border Guard?â
No.
âThe Border Guard is here.â
A familiar face, Torres, approached. He raised his hand and spoke.
His gaze never left Encrid. His eyes scanned Encrid from head to toe.
He wanted to ask what exactly Encrid had done. How had his skills improved so much?
âWe came to support.â
They hadnât even fired a single arrow.
What was this, really?
Soon, the commander of the 4th Platoon of the Heavy Infantry Company and Torres exchanged brief greetings and sorted out the situation.
Encrid listened to their conversation and abruptly asked a question. It was quite important to him.
âIs it over?â
ââŠWhat are you asking?â
âI was wondering if the monster extermination is over now.â
What? Why is he asking that?
Two light infantry soldiers who killed four harpies.
Two ordinary soldiers saved the Heavy Infantry Platoon. It wasnât a great achievement, but it seemed worthy of reward.
One of them was seriously asking if this was the end.
The other one, who looked like a foreigner, was busy laughing next to him.
What is this crazy duo?
The platoon leader thought and answered.
âThe original target was the humanoid dog pack, so itâs not over.â
The platoon leader hadnât forgotten the mission. A pack of humanoid dogs had formed a group around the Border Guard, blocking the merchants and peddlers.
Thatâs why they set out.
Even though the humanoid dog pack hadnât appeared on the road outside the wall where the merchants traveled.
Judging by the appearance of one or two around, it was evident that a problem would arise soon.
The mission was to exterminate the surrounding monsters and beasts to ensure the cityâs safety.
âI want to join.â
At Encridâs words, the platoon leader thought.
âDoes he want to fight more? He seems eager to fight. Am I seeing things?â
He wasnât seeing things. He was exactly right.
What the platoon leader saw was the truth.
[T/L: Please support me here: /revengerscans ]