“Hah! Die already, you old Elf!!”
With a desperate strike fueled by his dwindling energy, Eliwood managed to stab and kill the Heavy Cavalry. From behind the fallen titan of steel, a young man with red hair appeared, raising his spear.
A fierce blow was coming—Eliwood, fully aware, found that his exhausted and blood-drained left arm could barely raise his shield in defense.
“—Tiger Piercer!!”
A brilliant red magical aura ignited at the tip of the spear, which was twice the size of a normal one. It was only through the cracked shield that Eliwood managed to catch a glimpse of what lay ahead.
In the next moment, the spear transformed into a blinding crimson flash, crashing into him with immense force.
“Ugh!?”
The shield was knocked away; was it an unfortunate turn of events or just a natural consequence? The ‘Golden Taurus’, which had protected Eliwood from the storm of Halberd strikes thus far, finally slipped from his grasp.
“Not yet—Wolves of the Pack, Slash!!”
“Slash!”
Without missing a beat, the man unleashed his martial arts technique as Eliwood barely managed to respond with a similar sweeping motion using his spear.
Despite their differing techniques, both wielders were casting bright red magical auras. However, there was a stark difference in power between the spirited man who had just begun fighting and Eliwood, who was completely spent.
“Ugh…”
He was close to being disarmed, with his spear poised to be flicked away. Losing both shield and weapon meant instant death.
Yet, he realized that the familiar grip of his right hand felt almost non-existent.
A man who seemed to overwhelm with explosive power had struck Eliwood squarely, sending a shock that entirely numbed his right arm. Moreover, fresh blood burst from lacerations running down his shoulder and upper arm.
The precious life force remaining in his body was seeping away, bit by bit.
“Is this… the end?”
He was only a few dozen meters away from the caster, his target. But that small distance felt infinitely far.
The wall of Heavy Cavalry was still unbroken, and the red-haired man standing before him was no novice. Defeating him in Eliwood’s current condition would be a near-impossible task.
A glance around revealed that the Samurai and Golem were also struggling against formidable foes. This time, no help could be expected. It was even less likely that reinforcements would arrive from outside into the thick of enemy lines.
He was cornered from all sides. It was clear that he lacked overwhelming numbers for a successful charge. While Eliwood was fully aware he was engaging in a desperate strategy, the thought of imminent annihilation brought a flicker of emptiness.
“This is where I throw away my life.”
However, Eliwood had no intention of wasting the efforts of the knights and adventurers who had risked their lives to bring him this far. It had nothing to do with his duty as vice-captain; it was simply a resolve from one man to another.
With his mind made up, Eliwood focused sharply on what he deemed to be his final assault.
“Heh, you’re panting, old man. They say Elves live long, but it seems age doesn’t play nice, huh?”
Before the cocky young man who wore a combative grin, Eliwood would usually have roared back and delivered a punch. Yet now, he didn’t even flinch; his brow remained still.
What was in his mind was not anger at the overconfident brat, but a simulation on how to ensure the success of his next attack.
And in the next moment, he executed the plan as envisioned, initiating what he deemed his last battle.
“Hah!”
With a burst of spirit, he unleashed a strike—nothing but a feint.
A sharp and speedy attack, yet lacking any weight, he aimed it right at the young man’s face.
He likely recognized it as not being the real deal right away. He simply leaned back, sidestepping easily, showing no particular surprise.
But that was just fine. If he could step back even a single inch, even slightly out of range, it would mark the first phase’s success.
Transitioning to the second phase was swift. He quickly switched back to his spear, and this time aimed the tip downward at the ground.
“Whoa!?”
Eliwood used the spear’s tip to kick up earth, creating a mixture of melting snow and mud as a smokescreen aimed directly at the young man. A tactic like that would fit a thug from the Slums. Only an overly proud Avalon Knight would scoff at such a tactic; the Spada Knights recognized it as a legitimate technique.
In fact, the young Eliwood never imagined he would use such a dirty tactic in real combat, a trick taught to him just after joining “Brave Heart.”
“—You think that would trip me up!”
Judging by his cocky demeanor and gear reminiscent of a thief’s, the red-haired man wasn’t an upstanding knight, after all, and he easily countered the obscuring tactic. Without facing cold dirt to his face, he swiftly tilted his body to the side and avoided the attack.
But this, too, was anticipated. The second phase was complete.
Because of the feint and the smokescreen, the red-haired man had distanced himself, closing the gap so that Eliwood’s spear could no longer reach him. He needed to take at least one more step in to make contact.
That tiny delay was absolutely necessary for Eliwood to succeed with his final strike.
The plan had now reached its final step.
“Ooooooooh!”
A roar that seemed to resonate from the depths of his belly compressed the dwindling magical power within him, and he focused his energy into a powerful breath. Without chanting or invoking any spell name like a reinforcement magic, it simply granted his body explosive power.
Eliwood raised the ‘Vermilion Pilum’ overhead with both hands. It wasn’t a standard stance; instead, he held both arms high above his head, raising the spear higher than before.
Indeed, it was the stance for “Javelin Throw.”
“—What!?”
The red-haired man opened his eyes wide in shock. He must have instantly grasped Eliwood’s intent.
The mightily raised red spear was now aimed directly at the young girl he was meant to protect.
The distance between them was roughly thirty meters. It was well within effective range.
However, the problem was the throng of bodyguards standing in the way. The red-haired man was already a barrier, and even if he were bypassed, the Heavy Cavalry would obstruct the path to the solitary knight who stood unwavering by the girl’s side.
Yet it was fortunate for Eliwood that, among the enemy ranks, the target girl was the only one mounted. Normally, she would be completely surrounded by large men, but because she rode a pure white unicorn, she was actually a head taller than them.
It was almost as if she was asking to be targeted. They may not have been prepared for someone to close in this quickly.
But such underestimation could be fatal.
Eliwood aimed for the gap between the soldiers protecting the girl, targeting a space as narrow as a needle’s eye, releasing his deadly shot.
“—‘Inferno Throw’ Oooooooh!!”
The spear enveloped in blazing crimson flame soared through the air.
With all the ephemeral strength from his martial techniques focused into this one throw, Eliwood’s javelin shot forth like an arrow released from a drawn bow—no, even faster. The destructive velocity was more akin to shattering than piercing.
In reality, Eliwood intended for any soldier who stood before him to be blasted aside, piercing entirely through shields, armor, and bodies to reach its target. In the worst case, even if it missed or was intercepted, it carried with it an explosion powerful enough to be troublesome upon contact.
The ‘Vermilion Pilum’, with high resistance to both shock and heat, would retain its functional capabilities even while performing the typical ‘Inferno Throw.’
However, Eliwood, seeing he could no longer wield it himself, made the audacious choice to make the spear his companion on his journey to the next world, pouring more explosive power into it than it could endure.
The javelin, transformed into a more dangerous flame strike than any advanced attack magic from a skilled fire mage, soared toward its target—the girl before him.
The awaiting blonde knight drew forth a beautiful silver rapier that shimmered like starlight, stepping forward—but at this point, it was too late. If it struck him, the spear’s power would either impale him or engulf them both in the fires of hell.
Eliwood, feeling both the satisfaction of his plan’s success and the relief of facing death without regrets in battle, finally witnessed the fierce flames erupting thirty meters away.
“—That was close!? I seriously thought I was going to die!!”
A voice echoed from the girl, filled with concern.
The roaring explosion had thundered, and the turbulent winds brushed past. Eliwood’s shot had struck true, without anything standing in its way.
However, among the scattered black smoke stirred by the breeze, there she stood. A beautiful girl with black hair and black eyes, dressed in pristine white robes without a single scorch mark, completely unscathed.
“Th-This can’t be…”
The thought of impossibility was quickly dismissed by the faint white light flickering in sight. The truth was simple; it had merely been blocked.
Yes, it was the ‘Sanctum Barrier’ that had trapped them in a sealed space. By extending it anew, she had completely nullified Eliwood’s ‘Inferno Throw.’
With such a robust barrier, even the most concentrated martial strike would not, could not, pass through its tip, let alone the massive explosion.
As Eliwood watched the girl yell about something in a cheerful manner without a hint of tension, alongside her young knight, he instantly recognized the logic behind it all.
Even when he understood it, he still returned to the conclusion of “impossible”, especially considering she had already deployed such a massive barrier yet still constructed another one in an instant to counter the incoming attack.
It was they who had underestimated her. A gigantic barrier that could entirely sever castle walls would require a full concentration of magical power; any normal mage wouldn’t be able to use another spell during its casting. Eliwood held no doubts about such common knowledge amongst magicians.
However, the reality proved otherwise. She had easily intercepted the threat bearing down on her. Perhaps this enormous barrier was just a trivial exertion of effort and power for her.
Yet even understanding the depth of her magical prowess, it was already too late.
“Hey, you!!”
Eliwood, still in taunting amazement at his futile, desperate strike, had his instincts and body react reflexively to the sharp murder intent wafting from right in front of him.
“—You dare to touch my Lin!!”
The red-haired man, looking furious, launched his spear with ferocity. The pure rage radiated from him manifested in the form of a vibrant red aura enveloping both spear and wielding arms.
Deprived of his shield and having thrown his spear, Eliwood was left only with the dual-edged sword ‘Gladius’, a traditional Spada weapon hanging at his waist. He drew it fluidly, parrying against the incoming crimson slash.
“Ugh!”
Even right after unleashing his all-out attack, Eliwood managed to counter immediately. A lesser knight would have earned a deadly blow right there.
But he had no strength left for a counterattack.
“I won’t forgive anyone who hurts Lin; absolutely won’t forgive!”
His anger seemed to stem directly from the girl’s targeting. He clearly treasured her deeply or perhaps, in youthful fashion, simply felt infatuated.
Regardless of whether his emotional reason was justified, Eliwood’s fate was still the same—he would be tormented to death by the raging red-haired man. The once confident expression disappeared, replaced by an expression of fury as the man roared and slammed his spear down upon Eliwood repeatedly.
Before the storm of blows, Eliwood’s protective red armor crumbled easily. With every strike from the flame-like aura, the plates shattered; the thickest chest plate was pierced, and his golden right gauntlet ‘Light Hand Glory’, marked with a name of pride, finally cracked.
His body and armor were on the verge of collapse. Yet, he still managed to prevent a fatal blow with Gladius, embodying the Spada knight’s pride to never give up, even to the last moment.
If only, he thought, even just taking the furious red-haired man with him—this wish of Eliwood’s would not be realized as he stood on the threshold of death.
The word “wasted death” crossed his mind.
All that filled his heart was a profound sense of “I’m sorry.” He felt guilt for helplessly running out of strength at this point, apologizing.
To his revered parents who had raised him as a fine Spada, to the instructors who had taught him the ways of the spear and sword, to the superior who taught him how to survive on the battlefield, to the comrades and subordinates who had trusted him to this point, and to King Leonhart, to whom he had sworn to dedicate a victory.
And to the wife who loved him, a boring man who only knew how to fight, and his beloved daughter born into this world.
“…I’m sorry, Elina.”
“Lin, I will protect you!!”
With a wide defensive stance, Eliwood faltered, his throat exposed and a brutal thrust arrived at the next moment.
Should he be struck, it would mean instant death. The final image that flashed in his mind was that of his daughter’s smile, the most adorable in the world.
“—If she’s that important, don’t bring her to a place like this.”
In the battlefield that should be filled with chaotic clamor, only that chilling voice reached his ears with unsettling clarity.
Who was it?
At that moment, he heard a sickening crunch as a body was crushed.
Had he died?—No.
That denial came from the vision of his daughter still smiling in his mind, “Papa, I love you.” Was this heaven? No, different—he was still in the midst of battle.
And there he lay, foolishly staring into the bright blue sky above.
“What, what happened…”
After a long moment of daze, Eliwood, despite his near-death state, shot up sharply.
At the same time, the red-haired man, who had been frozen in the act of raising his spear before him—fell. With a dull thud, he landed on his back just like Eliwood.
“Ah…W-Why…Lin, I…”
The red-haired man mumbled incomprehensively before life faded from him. Those once fiery eyes, bright with anger, now lost their light, staring aimlessly at the sky.
The ground, muddied from their fierce battle, was soaked red with the massive amount of blood he had shed.
A gaping hole punctured his chest. It was a massive wound, clear enough to see right through. The cause of death was indisputable.
“What… who did this…?”
Eliwood asked no one in particular, and he received an answer immediately after his whispered question.
“Are you alright, Vice-Captain Eliwood?”
Before he knew it, a man in black stood beside him. Not the Samurai—this man was taller, larger, and even gave off a sense of foreboding.
A shiver ran down his spine, but looking up at the familiar face filled him with recognition.
“Adventurer Chrono, why are you here…?”
“I found a reliable Mage, so I left the rear guard with him. More importantly, you’ve taken a severe wound; I’ll apply a High Potion.”
With an unnaturally sharp grin, he spoke in a calm tone that made Eliwood almost forget they were in the heart of enemy territory.
He was not a normal man.
This was the honest thought Eliwood had at that moment. He was courageously abnormal; it was something beyond the usual bravery or guts.
However, he was also aware that Chrono had saved him from certain death. Thus, Eliwood accepted the healing from the High Potion with gratitude.
As the eerie black tentacles oozing from Chrono’s shadow deftly opened the potion bottle and dumped it over his head, he didn’t complain.
“You’re overdoing it, you fool…”
Eliwood thought he heard Chrono’s bitter muttering, though he couldn’t be sure.
“I truly thank you… I can fight a bit longer now.”
The High Potion, appearing as amber liquid like distilled liquor, was likely a high-quality recovery potion circulated in Spada. Its recovery amount and speed were a stark contrast to a common potion that even rookie adventurers might carry; there was a real reason it carried the title “Advanced.”
Instantaneously, it revitalized Eliwood’s nearly dead body, allowing him to stand back up and wield his sword once more.
“No, there’s no need for that.”
Chrono resolutely denied this, but he wasn’t looking at Eliwood anymore.
His gaze was fixed straight ahead, and with certainty, those black and red eyes were piercing sharply toward the girl who was still standing dozens of meters away.
His focus was entirely on the original target—the caster—but the weapon in Chrono’s hand was aimed elsewhere.
One was a magical weapon of iron and wood that he gripped in his left hand. Given Eliwood’s hobby of browsing weapon shops, he recognized it as a “gun,” an esoteric magical staff. It must have been this that had pierced the red-haired man.
And the cold, dull shine from the iron displayed the twin barrels aimed once more at him, despite the man now being silent.
A heavy, resounding bang sounded as two shots fired simultaneously. The force of black flashes surged forth, causing the man’s body to twitch slightly. The bullets struck his abdomen, but it wouldn’t matter where they hit; a corpse was still simply a corpse.
Eliwood couldn’t understand why Chrono would bother shooting a dead body.
Was he perhaps wary that it might rise and attack? Did he harbor such hatred against the Crusaders that it led him to entertain such thoughts, or was it a trait common to a warrior known as a Berserker?
“The rest—”
With fluid motions, Chrono swung the large cleaver he held in his right hand. At first glance, it was obviously a cursed weapon of extraordinary power. Using such an item, Chrono further dispatched the corpse.
The cursed blade, radiating a malevolent red-black aura, cleaved through the man’s neck. Even if the man had exerted all his strength utilizing the ‘Iron Body’ technique while still alive, he would have been easily severed.
Of course, merely beheading a corpse was trivial when facing a blade renowned for its terrifying sharpness.
Chrono kicked the severed head away toward the enemy ranks. Suddenly, a comically undignified scream echoed from the group of infantry who encountered the red-haired head flying toward them.
“—Leave it to me.”
Chrono declared boldly, as if completely unbothered by the insane follow-through he just executed on the corpse.
Eliwood simply held his breath, unable to utter a word towards Chrono’s back. It was no surprise. Right now, he was truly transforming into the Black Nightmare Berserker.