SOTBW - 14

The holy sword Maximón gave her was extraordinary. No matter how many larvae she cut down, she couldn’t feel the resistance of flesh and bone that was usually present when slicing through a living creature’s neck.

Najane held her ground firmly, picking up a shield that had been dropped by one of the soldiers. The boy soldiers who had been surrounding her had already fled somewhere.

How long had she been fighting? Perhaps an hour. The chill of midnight seeped into her limbs, and her thighs had gone completely numb. No matter how much sweat poured from her, it cooled immediately in the cold wind, leaving her shivering uncontrollably. To avoid succumbing to frostbite before being devoured by the Serith, she had no choice but to keep moving.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the Serith continued to flood over the great wall and into the field. She had lost count of how many larvae she had cut down.

Najane barely kept her balance as a Serith larva charged at her head-on. Though she mustered all her strength, the creature’s force was so immense that her feet sank deep into the soggy ground.

When the larva’s claws raked her shield, a horrific screech of metal echoed. She didn’t give the creature any chance to swing its arms like weapons. She slashed at the bulging veins under its jaw, and blue blood gushed out like a fountain.

As the head of the Serith, as large as a grown adult’s torso, flopped backward, another larva lunged at her. Najane was struck by the sharp claws of the Serith and toppled into the muddy ground. She could hear the sound of raindrops pattering on her helmet.

Just before she fell, she had managed to stab the holy sword into the Serith’s chest. Blue blood dripped from the blade.

Gritting her teeth, she swung the sword upward. The sword cleaved cleanly through the Serith’s upper body and half of its face. The larva screamed and collapsed to the side. Najane didn’t miss the opportunity, grabbing a dagger from the ground and stabbing it into the back of the creature’s neck.

Her breathing was so labored that her skull seemed to tremble with each gasp. Dizzy from the impact of her fall, she groped at the blood-soaked ground and barely managed to stand up.

At her feet, she saw the body of a dead soldier with his eyes wide open. He appeared to be around her age.

The soldier’s back was torn open, his spine and internal organs exposed. The larva had been feasting on him.

A wave of revulsion, hatred, and terror surged through her.

Najane picked up a random shield and looked forward again. Even the slightest turn of her head would reveal soldiers having their necks torn apart and dying at the hands of the Serith. She needed to focus. She couldn’t lose her composure. No matter what happened, she had to remain…

Suddenly, screams erupted nearby. Not just one, but several voices. Instinctively, Najane turned toward the source of the sound. There, a Serith adult stood, clutching a dead soldier in each hand, taking turns devouring them.

She stared blankly at the mangled corpses of the soldiers being ground up like sawdust in the Serith’s jaws. Red blood streamed endlessly from its massive cross-shaped mouth.

Daniel had said that adult Serith wouldn’t reach this area. If the knights did their job… he was sure of it.

“Which order is defending the third wall tonight?”

“Regrettably, the Amberon Order.”

Najane’s face turned pale. The Serith adult wasn’t feeding on soldiers—it was feasting on the knights of Amberon. The other soldiers, realizing this, began panicking and fleeing one by one. The rear line quickly broke apart, giving the lurking larvae the opportunity they had been waiting for.

The larvae howled as they hunted down the terrified fleeing soldiers. The ground, which had been frozen hard, grew increasingly soft as it became soaked with the blood of the fallen.

Najane didn’t know what to do. There was no way the rear-line soldiers could handle an adult Serith. They needed help.

From a knight—one of Romsoa’s knights.

“I don’t care about your opinion. I’ve made my decision. From today onward, you’re a knight of Romsoa.”

At that moment, Najane stared blankly at the adult Serith, as though she’d been struck by something. The only knight of Romsoa who could resolve this situation was…

Herself.

She looked down at the holy sword tightly bound to her right hand, her gaze distant and vacant. In this situation, the only person capable of fighting an adult Serith was her. But how? How could she possibly fight such a creature?

This was her first time confronting an adult Serith. Even looking at the massive beast from a distance was suffocating. The sheer presence of the creature overwhelmed fragile humans.

Najane’s breathing trembled. The ground quaked with each step the adult Serith took as it hunted soldiers. The clever larvae coordinated their movements with the adult’s, quickly surrounding the inexperienced soldiers. The desperate cries of the doomed soldiers seemed to echo in Najane’s ears.

As she watched a soldier wildly swing his sword to fend off the larvae, her thoughts turned to Luna. To Luna, who had been betrayed by trusted retainers and sold to slavers. To Luna, who had become a helpless slave, broken by the cruel drug they’d forced upon her.

And to herself—who had failed to save anyone.

Back then, drunk on the fact that she could wield sword energy like Nellis, she had been arrogant. She thought she could do anything.

No more regrets, she resolved. She had promised herself to hide her identity and abilities, to live quietly, and to search for Luna. She had learned the hard way that these hands of hers could protect nothing.

Najane clenched the holy sword in her hand. The name Emaydis meant “noble hero.” She had realized only after losing Luna that she was unworthy of that name.

“I want to ask you the same thing. Why are you so desperate to hide your skills? Are you afraid of fighting the Serith?”

Maximón’s words were true. In fact, Najane was afraid. She was afraid of the Serith, of the reality of losing Luna, and of her own ambiguous abilities.

But she knew one thing: only she could save them. If she ran away like everyone else, she would never be able to forgive herself.

Najane squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. As a knight, it was disgraceful to abandon her position while the Serith were still out there. Once she became aware of her role, her mind, which had been filled with fear, gradually calmed down.

Taking a steady breath, she watched as her breath formed a mist in the cold air. Slowly, cautiously, she focused her energy on her sword, tightening her grip.

She hoped that everyone would return home safely, that the inhabitants of the fortress wouldn’t have to mourn the loss of their loved ones, that someday they would all reminisce about this night while drinking, that children wouldn’t fear the night and sleep soundly, and that no one else would have to die.

In the dim light of the torches, Najane’s holy sword began to glow brighter and brighter. It looked like a crack in the dark, with light pouring through.

The soldiers, fighting with all their might, looked back without realizing, as the surrounding area brightened.

Najane was terrified, but no longer hesitated.

With all her strength, she took a step forward and swung her sword toward the Serith. As the sword’s aura shot through the air, the entire battlefield lit up as though the sun had risen.

The crescent-shaped energy of Najane’s sword tore through several Serith attacking soldiers and cleaved half of the Serith’s massive face.

The sword’s aura soared into the sky, scattering in dazzling flashes. The area returned to darkness once again. The battlefield, which had been filled with the sounds of combat, suddenly fell silent.

For a brief moment, every being in the field focused on Najane. Humans instinctively sensed the birth of a hero, while the Serith, with their undeveloped intelligence, stared at the silver fragments scattered across the night sky in confusion.

“Haah.”

Najane, steadying her swaying body, fixed her gaze on the Serith. The creature slowly turned around, its movements clunky, like a rusty gear forced to move. Its face, where Najane’s sword had struck, was melting like candle wax.

Seven bright red eyes glared at Najane. She instinctively realized that she had become the Serith’s target, and immediately corrected her posture. An overwhelming fear washed over her.

The Serith suddenly crouched, bellowing like a bison preparing to charge. The walls of the fortress trembled from the force of its roar.

The Serith, once far away, now dashed toward her like a predator sensing its prey. It was unbelievably fast. Najane barely managed to roll aside to avoid the charge.

In that instant, a scorpion-like tail stinger flew above her head. She barely blocked it with a fallen shield. However, the crushing force was so great that she felt her insides twist.

The unimaginable strength made Najane gasp in pain. She could hear the shield, made of metal, slowly cracking against her head. Clenching her teeth, she braced herself for the inevitable and swung her sword.

The white trail of her sword slashed through the Serith’s torso, and it screamed again. Najane seized the opportunity and crawled out from beneath its tail. The pressure was so great that her vision blurred from the dizziness.

The Serith, half-split in two, wrapped its arms around its body and screamed like a child. Najane’s attack seemed to have had an effect, but it was far from enough. The Serith’s regenerative abilities were astounding. In the blink of an eye, its wounds healed, and it growled like a beast as it charged at Najane once more.

Najane could not avoid it. The distance was too short. Clenching her lips, she raised her holy sword like a shield, its blade glowing white with the blue blood that stained it. This time, she intended to cleave the Serith’s body in half.

Just as she was about to release another sword strike, a sharp pain shot through her ankle. She looked down to see a Serith that had not yet been decapitated, biting her ankle. Its tentacles dragged her foot toward its mouth, throwing off her balance.

Staggering, Najane looked up with pale eyes. The Serith was looming over her, its mouth wide open, filled with the flesh of humans.

“Duck!”

In that moment, a familiar shout rang in her ear. Najane obeyed instinctively, lowering her head and bringing her holy sword down on the Serith that had bitten her ankle. She heard something burst as the blade sank in. The disgusting smell of the Serith’s flesh splattered across her armor.

The Serith collapsed to the side, a massive sword that had flown from a great distance striking it directly in the head.

It was impossible to gauge how far the sword had traveled, but the Serith’s head was completely obliterated, as if it had been hit by an explosive force.

Najane gasped for breath as she looked in the direction from which the great sword had come. Maximón, having quickly recovered from his wounds, severed the Serith’s neck with his sword as it tried to rise. The blue blood spurted out, staining his sword and armor.

He drove a torch into the Serith’s neck and then turned to look at Najane. She stared at him, her helmet crooked and battered.

“...How did you...”

“The weather’s clear, yet lightning flashes.”

“...”

“You thought you called me.”

Maximón casually knocked the deformed helmet aside. The heavy helmet fell to the ground and rolled away with a loud clatter.

“So this is the face I’ve been wanting to see.”

At those words, Najane quickly wiped her eyes. She thought she should calm down, but the surge of emotion made it difficult to control her expression. They were still in the midst of battle. The knights on the front lines had quickly handled the situation, but there were still Serith crossing into the field.

If it were the usual Maximón, he would never have tolerated a knight shedding tears. He would have shouted at them to get a grip, or perhaps thrown them out of the field for being weak. Anyone who knew Maximón would have expected that.

But Maximón only silently watched her. He hadn’t forgotten that they were in the middle of a fight. Originally, he had planned to check the rear situation and then return to the front lines. At least that was his plan until he saw Najane’s tears.

Watching Najane quietly weep, her nose turning red, strangely made Maximón’s chest ache. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Maximón crushed a Serith attacking Najane with his boots and glanced at her. Fortunately, Najane’s expression had calmed a little. He wiped the blue blood off his sword and said softly,

“You held on well.”

The simple praise made Najane stop crying. It was an unexpected compliment. Najane pulled her hand away from her face and looked at Maximón in surprise. By the time she did, Maximón was already walking away toward the soldiers who were struggling to regroup.

She watched his retreating figure, feeling embarrassed for crying, and began slashing at the remaining Serith. She had unknowingly started crying. Feeling ashamed that she had shown such weakness, Najane clenched her mouth shut and fought on.

“You held on well.”

Without her helmet, the winter wind tangled in Najane’s hair. She mulled over Maximón’s words while actively assisting the young soldiers. The more she thought about him, the more her chest tightened, as if something was stuck inside her.

She thought it must be the curse etched deep in her heart. It had to be.

If she had only felt moved by those few words...

Having used her sword energy to cut down several Serith at once, Najane let out a deep sigh. There was likely no special reason for Maximón’s kindness. She tried to convince herself of that as she watched the direction Maximón had gone. The night sky above was cruelly filled with stars.

At that moment, a command was heard from afar to reorganize the ranks. Najane slowly took a deep breath and faced forward.

The battle continued until dawn.