Chapter 244 - Not You, Not Even If I Died

As Beastmen grew, they developed elastic muscles and an ability to track moving objects far superior to humans', allowing them to move well beyond human limits. Just as Dunbachel did now.

The instant her charge met the speed of the horse demonic beasts rushing toward her, she drove her left big toe into the earth. Pressing down, she twisted. Her golden eyes had caught the narrow gap between the two beasts; it took boldness to plunge into it.

["Aren't you a beast by nature?"]

Be bold. Be daring. That was one of Rem's lessons, and Dunbachel followed it faithfully. She slipped between the two demonic beasts. The slightest mistake would cost her head, but her daring gave her room to spare. Turning sideways, she used her exceptional physique to squeeze through the gap, tightening her grip on her scimitar.

Held parallel to the ground, the scimitar's blade met a demonic beast and made music.

KRRRRUNCH!

The strain bore down on her right arm, but she had expected it and braced herself. Clasping her right wrist with her left hand, she held firm. Passing the beasts took an instant, and so did her response. No, she had fixed her scimitar in position from the moment she began running. The effect was unmistakable.

The blade sliced horizontally through the beast's body. It had held up remarkably well for a weapon without magic. This could easily have broken it, but Dunbachel had expected this outcome.

'Keep the blade horizontal. Put the force along the edge, where it can withstand it.'

Her scimitar had a thick blade. Like most mercenaries' weapons, it favored durability over sharpness. At this tremendous speed, a less-than-keen edge hardly mattered. The blade cut through the beast and emerged on the other side.

SPLRRRRT!

It had been running so fast that its black blood and entrails stretched out like a road as it collapsed. Guts, flesh, blood, and fragments of bone lay strewn across the ground. Someone could have called it a work of art and almost fooled her.

"Whew!"

Dunbachel released her pent-up breath, drew another, and immediately turned. Horses were not animals that could easily reverse direction. Becoming demonic beasts did nothing to change that anatomy.

She planted her right foot, spun around, and sprinted back. Realizing it had missed its target, the beast that had passed her wheeled in a wide arc.

NEIGH!

The beast cried out, turned left, and charged again. Dunbachel cut across its path and swung her scimitar downward, putting the spring of her entire body behind it. From a distance, the slash would have looked aimed at empty air. But the beast ran straight into its path, turning it into a blow that cut cleanly through its neck.

THWACK!

PATTER. THUD! THUD!

The headless body rolled a couple of times across the ground. Its head flew backward and fell. Black blood scattered through the air and rained onto Dunbachel's head, spotting her white hair as though with black water.

She flicked her scimitar clean and charged again. After she slaughtered the two horse demonic beasts, a pack of human-faced hounds came at her. Without slowing, she sent her scimitar dancing.

WHOOSH! WHUFF! WHOOSH!

The crescent-shaped weapon swept savagely from side to side, each stroke severing a hound's neck, foreleg, or part of its head.

["What weapon are you holding?"]

Rem began with questions and ended with violence. Somewhere between the two, Dunbachel had to find her own answers. Once, using her scimitar to stab had brought her to the edge of the river of death and back.

["Don't you ever think about what your weapon's good for? Is breeding really the only thing in a Beastman's head? For the record, if you come at me stark naked, I'll split you with my axe."]

Even that breeding business required attraction. Not Rem. Not even if she died. The memory brought a battle cry from her throat.

"Not you, not even if I died!"

Not who? Not what? The watching soldiers looked bewildered, but what did it matter? With that cry, her curved crescent blade danced a dance of slaughter.

Pieces of the hounds' heads and torsos flew through the air. The soldiers could not even see the blade move. A line appeared in the air, and severed monster flesh rose into it. They saw only the results, the process missing entirely. Those frightened soldiers might have breathed a sigh of relief, but instead...

"Formation!"

They were soldiers of Border Guard's standing army, trained by Encrid. Do your best where you stand. He was always saying that. They did just that.

At the shout from their acting commander, they quickly formed up. As it happened, they all carried spears. Standing in a single line abreast, they leveled them forward. Any horse demonic beast that charged would be skewered. So long as it was three or four rather than dozens...

'We can handle it.'

That was confidence, not arrogance. Just who were the instructors they had been facing all this time? Dunbachel, right before their eyes, was one of them.

"Goddammit!"

One soldier shouted as he spotted two horse demonic beasts charging toward the appetizing cluster of men. They could not do what Dunbachel did. Instead, they braced themselves with their spears extended. Trusting in the toughness of their bodies, perhaps, the beasts plowed straight in.

"Tuuurn!"

Their acting commander timed his shout precisely, just as a heavy impact traveled through the spearheads and their arm muscles felt ready to twist apart.

From the center outward, the soldiers shoved their spear shafts to the left and right.

CRACK!

The shafts embedded in the beasts snapped. Holding only half a shaft, one soldier pitched forward into a roll.

Taking a head-on impact at its full force was foolish.

["Would you face a cavalry charge like that?"]

Instructor Ragna's words. He did not teach them properly, but every word cut like a blade. Blades utterly at odds with his languid eyes and manner. The soldiers took them to heart. No, they would have died if they hadn't. What else could they do with Teresa the half-Giant charging straight at them? They gave it everything they had.

Without their regular training, it would have been impossible. But they stopped the two beasts' charge. Rather than absorb the force after sinking their spears in, they turned it aside. Of course, that required considerable strength to begin with. Audin had drilled and hardened their bodies. That was what made this possible.

"Fuuuck. It actually worked. Ptooey."

A soldier spat on the head of a beast thrashing on its side, the broken spear shaft buried halfway into it.

HREEEIGH!

As though it had gone mad, the horse demonic beast bared its fangs even with more than half the spear shaft lodged in its chest. Tears of black blood streamed from its crimson eyes. The soldier's knees weakened at the sight.

This was not his first fight with demonic beasts or monsters. If not for their numbers, a mere demonic beast would hardly scare him into wetting himself. Yet the beast before him was not normal. Something was different. Naturally, there was no time to think, no chance to question the oddity.

"Damn it! No time to stand around watching!"

Another soldier drove his spear into the beast's skull. The forcefully thrust spearhead struck home.

CRUNCH!

Now came the human-faced hounds. There were too many for Dunbachel alone. The soldiers had to fight as well. They would not die. They could withstand this much. Encrid's training had tempered them.

Before, they had been well-drilled troops. Now they were formidable warriors. Setting tactical ability aside, their individual prowess had grown to an astonishing degree.

Of the three soldiers who had lost their spears, one drew a shortsword, another an arming sword. The third held his half-broken spear shaft. One soldier even swung his bow like a club.

"Damn it!"

They fought well despite their constant swearing, battering, stabbing, and striking the approaching hounds dead. They formed a circle to protect one another, inching backward as they fought. If they held a little longer, someone would see the commotion and send reinforcements. They considered the battle as good as over.

Dunbachel fought better still. Her scimitar seemed to have become a crescent-shaped guillotine. She was quite literally running wild. Once she finished off the horse demonic beasts, only the human-faced hounds remained.

She cut wherever she saw an opening, punching and kicking any that approached in the meantime. Every movement was tremendously fast and powerful, her muscles springing with a light, elastic grace. Yet she did not look particularly tired. Such overwhelming might. The name Lunatic Company came to mind all on its own.

Had she killed about half the hounds by then? The rest should have been frightened enough to retreat, yet they kept attacking as though cursed into a frenzy.

KRAAH!

GRRRRR!

The hounds' grating cries filled her ears. As she fought, Dunbachel heard a strange rumbling from the forest.

THUD-THUD! THUD-THUD! THUD-THUD! THUD-THUD!

There was weight to that sound. Hoofbeats?

A black shape shot out of the forest. It seemed twice as fast as the horse demonic beasts. More importantly, it was not a horse. It resembled one, but it was something else. Horses had no hands with which to hold weapons.

The huge figure swung a club fashioned from a cut log.

WHOOSH!

The heavy wooden club swept over her head. Would it have burst her skull if she had not ducked on instinct? At the very least, it would have broken her stance. Already bent low, she rolled forward into the pack of human-faced hounds.

Delighted, the wrinkled-faced hounds lunged with sharp teeth. She struck, shoved, and battered most away, but one finally slipped through. It opened its maw. Dunbachel offered it her bracer, seized its head, and swung it like a club.

WHOOSH!

THWACK! THUMP! THUD!

Driving three or four back that way, she stabbed her scimitar into the hound clamped onto her arm and sliced downward. Entrails tumbled out, wetting the ground with black blood. Even then, its teeth remained embedded in her bracer.

'What a nuisance.'

Meanwhile, her attacker wheeled around and came back. She had wondered if it was a mounted soldier, but this, too, was a monster. Half man, half horse. A centaur.

Its lower body was a horse's, its upper body humanlike. Hard pectoral muscles stood out on its bare torso. The sight of them rippling made her nauseous.

"What a fucking mess," Dunbachel muttered.

It charged ferociously again, thick wooden club in hand.

THUD-THUD-THUD! CRACK! WHAM! CRUNCH!

It barreled through the hounds blocking its path, heedless of their bursting skulls and shattering bones.

WHOOSH!

The club cleaved the air again. Dunbachel leaned backward to avoid it. A narrow escape. No, it was not beyond her ability to dodge. At least the creature had knocked the hounds aside, giving her a moment to breathe...

"Oh, shit."

No, it hadn't. There was more than one. Several more were emerging from the forest.

"Kiyoyoyoot!"

Several centaurs let out battle cries. Crimson eyes with no discernible pupils stared straight at Dunbachel. A few of them looked toward the soldiers.

'I want to live.'

She wanted so badly to live. A yearning. When had that yearning taken hold? After she met Encrid, it had suddenly overflowed like water through a burst dam. That was the yearning for life, wasn't it? It bound you at the most unexpected moments.

Encrid. She had to see that man's face again. Should she just run? Could she? He would not reproach her. But...

'Those men.'

Encrid had memorized every soldier's name. She had yet to learn even five. Was it right to leave them to die when she could save them? Was saving herself right, or risking her life to save theirs? There was no answer. As with everything in life, there was only a choice.

Was surviving alone the best choice? Encrid, Encrid, Encrid. His name repeated itself unbidden. She wanted to join that pack. She wanted to be someone who belonged there.

Then was eking out a lonely existence really what he wanted? Was that what a member of his pack would do? Was that her best? The human called Encrid always sought the best he could do and acted on it. After watching him, what had she wanted to do?

Now was not the time to judge her choice right or wrong. She only had to act. Clearing away her stray thoughts, Dunbachel focused on just one.

'Did I ever thank him for taking me in?'

She did not think she had. She would live and thank him. Not merely survive, but survive in the way he would want her to, and then say it.

The train of thought was long, but it took little time. The mind grew more active in moments of crisis. Having chosen and reached her conclusion, Dunbachel acted.

"Look at meee!"

Dunbachel shouted as she triggered her unique transformation. An intense presence swept out in every direction. Her golden eyes fixed on the centaurs. Fur grew in an instant, and, taking on a lion's appearance, she loosed a low, deep growl.

GRRRRRR.

With a sound that would grate on any enemy's ears, she leaped in front of the nearest centaur and swung her scimitar.

WHOOSH!

A centaur was a better rider and cavalryman than even someone praised for being one with their horse. It twisted its upper body, its lower body turning with it to evade the blade. No mounted soldier could dream of such a feat.

Dunbachel had swung her scimitar with her right hand. The moment it dodged, she reached out and raked with her left. Claws jutting like blades swept across the centaur's eyes.

"Kraaagh!"

A scream rang out.

"Come after me, you sons of bitches!"

Was that meant for the human-faced hounds or the centaurs? The watching soldier had no chance to ask. Dunbachel ran straight into the forest, and the centaurs pursued her. The hounds followed them as well.

The soldiers were saved. Centaurs were among the most troublesome mid-tier monsters. Especially in a colony, they were widely considered more dangerous than flying monsters.

"... We're in trouble," one of the surviving soldiers said.

* * *

"So it's been four days since Dunbachel disappeared into the forest?"

Four days after Dunbachel vanished, Border Guard sent reinforcements directly. The swift vanguard arrived first: a single, small Company. At its commander's question, the soldier nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"And the centaurs have now formed a colony and taken over the plain in front of the forest?"

"That's right."

This time, the answer came from Martai's new lord, the former border defense captain. Everyone studied Encrid's expression. His face was as impassive as ever. Why, then, did he look so angry?