IYAMD: Episode 47

After the ranks were reorganized, the battle resumed. As the knights formed their lines and began moving, the Minotaur herd took notice and showed signs of agitation.

The knights, unable to ride horses and approaching on foot, looked particularly determined as they marched forward.

Jaha walked alongside Marsilia, who was at the very forefront. The clinking of their scabbards and footsteps filled the air, but there was no mixing of sounds between Jaha and Marsilia.

The tension from the knights behind him was palpable, and the same tense atmosphere could be felt coming from the distant Minotaur herd.

The creatures had approached quietly, though, aside from the earth-shaking thuds of their footsteps, they didn’t make a sound like a battle cry in the early dawn.

The first Minotaur to advance lowered its body. Marsilia, noticing this, formed a defensive barrier in front of the knights.

The Minotaur, with its shoulder pushed forward as if to charge with its horns, snorted forcefully. Though there was still a fair distance, the rough exhale of its breath reached them clearly.

Marsilia stopped in his tracks and raised one arm. As he clenched his fist, the knights halted in unison, forming their ranks and lifting their shields.

Jaha, in a nonchalant manner, drew his sword, and Marsilia silently did the same.

Jaha quietly gathered his inner energy, watching the creature shift its hind legs, and allowed the energy to slowly circulate through his body.

Just before the Minotaur’s hind leg fell, Jaha was the first to make his move.

“Jaha!”

Marsilia’s surprised shout was drowned out by the sound of Jaha’s sword cutting through the air like a gust of wind.

Jaha extended the sword’s energy, creating an illusionary blade that soared above him. With the surge of energy, eight ethereal swords shot up into the sky. As Jaha swung his arm forward, the illusionary blades all aimed directly at the Minotaur charging toward them.

The target was the space between the creature’s horns. All eight swords pierced the Minotaur’s forehead in a single motion. The swords disappeared into its massive body, but when Jaha swung his arm again, they burst forth from the creature, shredding its insides.

The Minotaur’s enormous body exploded in an instant. As its bodily fluids spurted into the air like a fountain, the translucent white swords returned to Jaha in unison.

Though Jaha wasn’t familiar with large-scale battles, one thing he understood was that in combat, the most important things were to strike first and to wield overwhelming force.

“Jaha, when you meet someone trying to provoke you, make sure you knock them out first. The first strike is the most important. With your appearance, you’re bound to be underestimated.”

His elder teacher would often say these things to him after drinking.

If someone underestimated him before a fight, he was advised to immediately break their nose with a swift blow.

Jaha had come to understand the importance of showing strength through experience. He realized that it didn’t differ much when fighting monsters. Animals were quicker to sense weakness than humans.

As the dust cloud from the fallen Minotaur settled, Jaha turned to look behind him.

There, hundreds of Westlanders stared at him in disbelief.

Looking at their gaping mouths, Jaha exhaled a long sigh.

‘Aren’t you coming?’

Marsilia read the words muttered silently by the man and shook his head, clicking his tongue.

It was to suppress the fighting spirit that had risen within him.

Marsilia occasionally clashed with Darren, but Darren had only recently become a Sword Master, making him too inexperienced to truly engage in battle.

But what about this man? How should he confront that dazzling swordsmanship?

An experienced swordsman who had trained himself for a long time absentmindedly licked his lips as he watched his partner.

But such thoughts were fleeting. At this moment, the more pressing task was the extermination of the monsters before them.

Marsilia raised his sword high and extended it slowly toward the front.

“Knights, charge!”

“Charge!”

As the knights charged forward, Marsilia’s divine energy once again formed a forest-like aura.

Marsilia’s knights feared no death. They believed in the goddess’s blessings and trusted in the Emperor’s power.

Faith and trust may sound similar, but they were subtly different. Faith in the goddess was one thing, but the knights’ trust in the Emperor served as a massive barrier in itself.

No matter what happened, the Emperor’s strength would protect them. Even if they themselves died, their comrades would survive. The knights who believed in immortality threw themselves at the enemy without hesitation.

The youngest member of the Yandel family, who had spoken to Jaha, was struck by a Minotaur’s axe and had his skull split in two. When his breath was barely hanging on, he heard the goddess’ call.

“Ian Yandel, do not die.”

Before his eyes, fields of golden wheat and lush green forests unfolded simultaneously. A cool breeze wrapped around him, and in an instant, his pain disappeared.

The Emperor poured his divine energy into Ian, then left for another destination. At the end of his path, there was a massive monster shaking its head, with a knight impaled on one of its horns.

The Emperor leaped high, bringing his sword down in a long arc, and with that single strike, severed the thick horn of the Minotaur. As other knights pulled out the fallen knight from the ground, the Emperor covered his head.

The Emperor kept muttering something continuously, and in that instant, two other knights removed the Minotaur’s horn. Ian Andel clearly saw the miraculous sight as the large hole quickly sealed up.

And beyond that, he saw a man with black hair tightly tied up, swinging his sword like petals in the wind, supporting them.

Ian shakily knelt and stood up. The knight who had lost his sword rushed to find the spot he needed to fill. There was not a hint of fear in him.

He had just witnessed a miracle.

General Des had just severed the Minotaur’s neck. Its thick neck couldn’t be severed in one strike, but after repeatedly thrusting his sword into it, he finally managed to separate its body from its head.

Dozens of Minotaur corpses lay scattered across the ruined countryside, their bodies filling the area.

The knights, who had fallen and risen countless times, shouted in joy and raised their swords as they were revived just before death.

General Des, exhausted and unable to join in their celebrations, collapsed on the spot. A hollow laugh escaped his lips.

He couldn’t believe he was still alive. But he was still breathing. His breath, however, carried the stench of blood after pushing his body to the limit.

General Des leaned his upper body against the corpse of a Minotaur and completely collapsed. When he lifted his eyes, he saw the healing foresr the Emperor had expanded still covering the sky.

The great pillars of trees and their sprawling branches intertwined like a spiderweb, with glimpses of the blue sky peeking through.

Particles of divine energy fluttered like snowflakes above General Des’ body, seeping into him. The fatigue didn’t vanish, but there was no longer any pain or bleeding.

General Des raised the arm that had been severed during the battle and curled his fingers. His five fingers all moved in response to his will, bending as he willed them.

He turned his head to find the man who had made this possible. The man had no intact place on his body. His tunic was torn in several places, and blood still flowed from his side and outer thigh.

Despite his condition, he didn’t limp and looked around, finally finding the man with tied up hair, who had been protecting them.

The Emperor, in much better condition than that man, ran over, lifted him by the armpits, and raised him high, as though lifting him in a celebratory fashion.

The man, with his Eastern features, appeared startled for a moment before being pulled into the Emperor’s embrace.

The Emperor held him tightly, resting his forehead on the narrow shoulders. General Des, seeing the Emperor’s large shoulders shaking, couldn’t hold back a sniffle.

“Damn it, is it time for me to retire?”

General Des had served the Emperor for a long time, from the time he was a prince. He had risen through the ranks, from the deputy commander of the elite division to general over a long period.

The Emperor had endured every grueling training and arduous battle without showing any sign of fatigue.

He never showed weakness in front of anyone, and all the knights of the Imperial Palace respected and followed the Emperor.

But seeing the Emperor holding a small man in his arms, unable to move for a long time, made his nose sting.

He scratched his nose with his dirty hands and looked up at the sky again.

Was that man the one the Emperor was searching for, the one with the soul mark? No one had told him, but he had a feeling.

He must be the one the Emperor had been waiting for.

The Emperor, known as the strongest, had found an equally strong companion by his side. General Des couldn’t help but feel that even if he were to die now, he would have no regrets.

But it was too early to die.

With a groan, General Des rose from where he had been lying. It was time to gather the remaining survivors and head back.

Having won the battle, it was time, as always, to distribute the military supplies, throw a party, and rest in deep sleep.