WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 769: If You Ask What We Can Do

──────

"Information control."

Ruagarne murmured the words. It was what she had asked Jaxon to do.

The so-called castellans of the Cursed Ground seemed to have left their posts, trusting the Demon Creatures under their command to hold the line.

It would be nice if it worked, and no great loss if it did not, but the measure had proven appropriate and effective. The enemy's response was not out of the ordinary.

Even with the group pressed this close to the wall. Which meant what was about to happen was nothing special, merely a response within expectations.

"The next one's coming."

Sinar whispered from behind Enkrid. The wailing of the thorn-wood wall's vengeful spirits was deafening.

From the darkness on either side of the fortress wall, Demon Creatures came lumbering forward as if they had been waiting.

Four-armed werewolves and werebears, and the like.

The werebears were unusually large, and some held jet-black clubs in their hands.

Four clubs wielded by four hands looked considerably threatening.

More than that, every one of them radiated a more dangerous energy than anything the group had fought outside. Right. This was the Cursed Ground, after all.

"Hold and break through."

Ruagarne spoke.

Sometimes the simplest tactic was the sharpest spear.

With this much firepower, why bother climbing walls or hunting for doors that could not even be seen?

Jaxon had his tricks, moving like he was flying across the top of the wall while assassinating targets to control information, but the rest of them had no need to do that.

No. More precisely, there was no need for them to bother.

Besides, what had that bastard said earlier? What could they do?

Ruagarne wanted to give that bastard the most impressive answer possible.

Beyond the Demon Creatures swarming toward them, the moment the group drew close to the wall, structures lined up across its top began to move on their own. Their bodies were made of bone, and the projectiles they fired were thick arrows fashioned from bone. They were ballistae inhabited by Evil Spirits, each one a Demon Creature in its own right.

Kreeek.

A bowstring made from twisted purple tendon coiled and warped on its own, loading an arrow before releasing it.

Thoom.

The string snapped, and a heavy arrow flew toward the center of the group.

The moment they entered range, the wall reacted as though guarding itself.

Defensive Demon Creatures protecting the thorn-wood wall, one might call them.

Enkrid's gaze swept over the top of the wall just before the arrow reached them.

Even inside the Cursed Ground, they have everything they need. They turned siege-defense weapons into Demon Creatures and left them here.

At this point, their effort was almost commendable.

His hand rested on Duskforge's grip, but Enkrid had no need to step in.

Someone ahead of him sprang upward and swung a sword.

Tong.

A quick blade moved and deflected the arrow. The ballista bolt that took the blow was made from twisted bone. The deflected bolt struck the ground with a tong and skipped toward one of the approaching werewolves.

The creature had patches of fur missing all over its body, but its forearms were unusually thick.

If those forearms caught and constricted someone, an ordinary human arm would snap like a dead branch.

Of course, there were no ordinary humans here.

The werewolf blocked the rebounding bone bolt and gripped it as though it intended to use it as a weapon. It swung the improvised bone club through the air in wide circles.

A Demon Creature that could improvise weapons on the spot had to possess considerable intelligence.

Judging by how it growled and dripped pus instead of saliva, though, it looked less intelligent and more like a human-faced dog's penis.

The one who had deflected the arrow was Fell. With both hands gripping the sword's hilt, Fell spoke without changing the extended posture of the swing.

"I'll handle above."

Fell considered this a fine environment for practicing a sword that blocked anything. The ballista bolts were heavy, but to a Knight's eye, they were not particularly fast, so it was not a difficult task.

"Please do," Audin said. He stood at the center of the group.

Krrrr.

The pack of Demon Creatures, werewolves and werebears among them, closed the distance further. Not one rushed in. They all ambled forward, and though their pace seemed slow, their large bodies brought them close in an instant.

The sight of Demon Creatures pressing in from both sides might have inspired fear, but every face in the group was calm. Fell watched the sky. The others watched the Demon Creatures. Everyone quietly steadied their breathing without the slightest tremor.

Shhk.

Teresa drew her sword. In her hand, it looked like an ordinary longsword, but it was a greatsword comparable to Ragna's Ilchul.

The fact that she swung it one-handed without a second thought was proof enough that Giant blood ran through her veins.

Aaah.

She softly sang a hymn. As the melody, closer to humming than song, rose from her throat, white light shimmered over Teresa's entire body.

Divinity was the most visible supernatural power in this land.

It would take considerable enlightenment to do something like that with Will alone.

Well, Enkrid knew better than most that every power had its own characteristics.

Divinity, however, lacked offensive power. It was fundamentally a force for healing and embracing rather than destroying. To make up for that weakness, Audin repeatedly trained beyond the limits of the flesh.

No, the entire Holy Knight Order did. Audin had merely gone further than the rest.

'Strength makes up for what is lacking.'

Seen that way, divinity might have been a perfect fit for someone of half-Giant blood.

Provided they possessed faith and natural talent, of course.

The corner of Teresa's mouth twisted upward. If the Teresa who had been humming her hymn a moment ago was Teresa empowered by divinity, then the Teresa now was a half-Giant who craved slaughter.

The white light hovering around Teresa as she hummed was not a force for healing or comfort. It was the manifestation of martial power that supported her innate monstrous strength.

Bang.

Her greatsword came down on an approaching werebear's skull. The creature's head did not split.

Dark blood burst out, but beneath its skin, the creature was as solid as iron. It was an Armored Bear, a werebear-type Demon Creature with a hardened outer shell.

With Teresa's strike, the fighting began again.

Thoom.

Fell deflected an arrow. Ropord stood guard over one flank. Ragna's Ilchul cut and burned through whatever it touched without pause.

Tsssss.

White smoke curled from a severed werewolf's neck. That was the mark Ilchul left behind. Ragna drew one long arc and cut through the throats of six Demon Creatures in a single sweep.

Aoara's flowing sword.

There was no room to conserve Will here, so everyone used their strength.

A Knight cuts down a thousand alone. That saying meant one Knight could kill several hundred Demon Creatures alone.

With several of them fighting side by side, it was only natural for the approaching Demon Creatures to be carved apart and strewn across the ground like meat in a butcher's shop.

Pressing forward through it all, Audin eventually reached the vomit moat. What some of the vengeful spirits had disgorged lay on the ground, giving off a foul stench.

The stench alone was filled with poison, but it was useless against Audin. He had not joined the fight against the Demon Creatures.

He left the Demon Creatures attacking from both sides to everyone else.

Guaaah.

The vengeful spirits in the fortress wall cried out. Audin looked at them and took his stance, left foot and left hand forward. He twisted his ankle and waist, and the right fist he drove out shone white.

The rotational force running through his entire body gathered into a single fist, and that rotation carried into the divinity as well.

"Lord."

With that brief murmur, the air around him seemed to roar inward with Audin at its center. The gathered divinity moved the air, and a small whirlwind surged upward around him.

Frrrrr.

His hair lifted and scattered overhead. From that position, Audin extended his arm. Wind, white light, everything coiled around the path of his arm and drove outward together.

Whooom.

White light spun along the path of his outstretched fist and met a vengeful spirit wearing a thorn shroud.

Bang.

A thunderclap rang out, and pressure exploded where the fist landed. The material composing the thorn-wood wall flew apart in every direction, accompanied by the shrieks of vengeful spirits.

Dozens of vengeful spirits were sent to heaven in a single blow.

"Lord, it is Yours to decide whether these souls require forgiveness or judgment. I will only send them to Your side."

Audin pulled his fist back and prayed. What the vengeful spirits thought of that prayer offered toward heaven was anyone's guess. It was difficult to know whether any reason remained in them at all.

As a result, one punch left a person-sized indentation in the fortress wall.

The vengeful spirits woven into the thorns had not watched quietly, and there had been no shortage of resistance, but none of it reached him.

The rudimentary Sacred Light Armor covering Audin's entire body rejected and shook it all off.

The ground where the broken wall met the earth trembled.

"The foundation is soft," Audin said pleasantly, stepping a few paces to the side. The vengeful spirits' screams, which had grated against every ear, paused for a moment.

They almost certainly did not think that way, but if reason still lived inside them, they might well have been screaming, "What the hell are these bastards?"

The War God's Apostle, who believed no curse could dare harm him, pulled his fist back again.

"Quite the knock," Enkrid said, watching. It was a throwaway remark. Strangely, it reminded him of the time back at Border Guard when they had raided Gielpin's guild and found the underground entrance.

Someone had called it knocking then, too, and smashed down a door. Nothing much had changed since.

Except that the target now was the fortress wall of a stronghold planted in the Cursed Ground.

Kwaaang.

The second punch cracked out another thunderclap. Two full-force punches opened a hole in the wall. The indentation was already starting to writhe and repair itself, as though the wall itself were a living thing.

Sinar watched it and furrowed her brow. The displeasure on her face was plain to anyone looking.

"Is it imitating an elf city?"

Her city, or more precisely, the city she had lived in and which bore her name, was composed of living, moving trees. The foundation of that city was alive. What the Cursed Ground's fortress was doing was imitating that, and she found it deeply unpleasant.

It clearly meant someone had taken part of the elves' knowledge and used it here.

The rate of repair was not slow, but one thing was clear. Audin's punches were faster.

And with two punches, there was at least a gap, barely as large as an eye socket, through which the space beyond the wall could be seen.

"The door's open," Teresa said quietly. She had just grabbed one of the werebear's clubs and thrown it aside. Before that, she had beaten an Armored Bear to death rather than cutting its throat, crushing its body with sheer force. She spoke while briefly catching her breath.

"Shouldn't you say it appeared rather than opened?" Fell said while deflecting a bone ballista bolt. While airborne, Fell deftly knocked the arrow aside, using rotational force to swing the sword despite having no footing to push from. It was a wonder Fell could pull off such a feat without any footing at all.

Enkrid thought Fell was right, but did not argue. What did it matter? What mattered was that a path had opened.

And from a quick glance, it looked like he could lend a hand.

Jing.

Duskforge seemed to be asking why it still had not moved. Enkrid took a step forward as though soothing his sword.

Up on the wall, Jaxon was moving, taking down the bone ballistae one by one.

The number of bolts being fired was steadily decreasing because of it.

Then there was no need to stay behind to stop anything Fell might miss.

Enkrid launched himself forward.

Werewolf claws. A black club dropping from above. A foot shooting toward his ankle while four arms braced against the ground, its claws like daggers that looked capable of shaving away chunks of flesh with the slightest graze.

High, middle, and low, all at once. Every one of them knew how to fight.

Enkrid moved with Duskforge in his right hand and Penna in his left, advancing with light taps.

No thrusts, just a succession of alternating slashes. That alone was enough. Demon Creature limbs fell away and hit the ground.

Before their attacks could reach him, Flash born from optimized thought severed their arms and legs.

As that Flash continued in succession, it became Lightning.

Zzzt. Krraaaboom.

The sword broke through sound again and again, unleashing thunder.

A long trail of dark blood marked the path he walked.

Something like this was easy now. It was growth earned from the constant intention to draw the best sword possible, anywhere and at any time.

'It is people who wield swords.'

No matter how swordsmanship was divided into five, people were always the ones who wielded it.

An extension of a thought that had come to him before. Only the barest thread was visible so far, a path of the sword whose connections he had yet to understand.

He cast the thought aside.

Enkrid sheathed Penna once he was within arm's reach of the fortress wall.

The tension in his muscles was exactly right, and the Will cycling through him was more than sufficient.

Enkrid felt as though he had woken from a deep sleep, fully rested and overflowing with energy.

On a day like this, it felt like anything was possible. One could call it a surge of omnipotence. That did not mean he would foolishly attempt what could not be done.

"Hello, vengeful spirit friends."

With that brief greeting, Enkrid raised Duskforge level with the ground. The blade shed sky-blue light and trembled with a soft jing, as if it had seen Enkrid practically bursting with excitement.

In truth, the sword's trembling was simply resonance with Enkrid's Will, but that was up to the one holding it to interpret however they pleased.

Audin was breaking through with divinity. Adding his own strength would help.

Will surged and poured into the blade. This was the Cursed Ground, and what stood before him was a fortress of the Cursed Ground.

All of that was already in his head. So what? What had that bastard said earlier? What could they do?

Krrrumble.

"Insane."

He thought he heard Ruagarne muttering behind him. Enkrid's face carried no smile. He was completely serious.

What could he do right now?

This was the answer to that question.

Footnotes:

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried