Chapter 49
A thousand monsters approached, defiling the earth.
The monsters made no war cries, so all that could be heard atop the walls was the anxious murmur of frightened soldiers.
Even so, Tarmin was certain the monsters hundreds of meters away were making sounds.
He remembered the monsters’ peculiar, strangled, grotesque cries.
His father was discussing their plans with the garrison captain.
Captain Giran had been furious after receiving word from the city’s council of elders.
“Do you think I call you an elder just to listen to that kind of nonsense?”
The elders had suggested that, since it would be dangerous if the monsters reached the gates, the soldiers should go out and fight them.
Still, when Tarmin looked to his father as if to ask whether it might work, his father firmly shook his head.
“You took my words too literally. Giving up our positional advantage to fight a war of attrition is foolish. We’d be wasting soldiers instead of arrows.”
The captain nodded grimly.
Having confirmed the city’s leaders had no particular plan, his father spoke.
“The most realistic option is to take out those centaurs luring the monsters. Pass that on to the archers. We should do what we can. Is it all right if they fire at their own discretion?”
“Yes. Of course. Please do, Mr. Alchin.”
His father took the bow from his shoulder and glared at the centaurs with sharp eyes.
The centaurs were guiding the monsters from between them and the city.
Some of them had already come close to the walls, but after taking suppressive fire from the defenders, they were now wandering just outside bow range.
They were adjusting their timing, waiting for the slower monsters to approach.
The garrison captain and the old hunter continued discussing the strategy.
“Monsters never tire, but they have no proper siege equipment. The city itself is quite sturdy. The harvest is over, so the granaries should be full. Let’s bar the gates, hold out, and call for reinforcements. How many days can we last?”
“I’m not sure. The nearest city is Berazik, only two days away, but reinforcements…”
Tarmin knew little about military strategy.
He shook his head and stepped away, approaching Enya.
Lise was nowhere to be seen; perhaps she’d gone down after hearing Giran’s words. Enya silently gazed at the monster-filled grassland.
“Enya, monsters are your specialty. Is there any way you can help?”
Enya didn’t seem to hear him.
Without answering, she stood there anxiously, her face drained of color.
Tarmin had expected the Hero to look eager for a fight, so he was surprised and reached out to her.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Only after Tarmin put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake did Enya startle, come to her senses, and hurriedly grab his hand.
“Ah, yeah, ah, Taal. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I-I’m fine.”
When Tarmin silently held her gaze, Enya flinched and unconsciously took a small step back.
Tarmin sighed.
“You’re lying.”
“Urk…”
Enya was about as far from a liar or swindler as anyone could be.
Looking at Enya, who was flustered and unable to meet his eyes as if she’d done something wrong, he thought for a moment.
What was she worried about?
This city?
An ominous tension hung over the top of the walls.
Soldiers and officers murmured as they watched the grassland swarming with monsters.
Behind him, the city’s exotic buildings spread out beyond the walls.
Soldiers and men hurried to their positions in confusion, while women screamed and led their children home.
The centaurs, who hadn’t intended to plunder the city, had now brought the monsters themselves.
If the citizens of Tariq were suffering because of the Hero, what did the Hero herself think of that?
If the holy sword he’d seen that day wasn’t all-powerful…
After gathering his thoughts, he asked Enya.
“Enya. Are those centaurs chasing us?”
He’d deliberately said “us” instead of “you,” indirectly asking on the Hero’s behalf.
Enya gave a small nod.
**
After entering the tower and hearing Enya’s explanation, Tarmin sighed as if the ground had given way beneath him.
“So not just wicked humans, but demi-humans are after us too?”
“Y-Yeah.”
“Good grief. Why didn’t you tell me? No, if you’d known they’d go this far, you wouldn’t have come here either.”
Enya nodded earnestly.
The Enya Tarmin knew wasn’t someone who would deliberately put innocent civilians in danger.
Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little hurt.
“I said I’d wait until you told me in Quaalid, but, Enya, you idiot. How are we supposed to fight when we don’t even know exactly who the enemy is?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
Even as Enya fidgeted, unsure where to put herself, she kept glancing toward the grassland, though it wasn’t visible from here.
With thousands of citizens effectively held hostage because of her, she probably wasn’t in her right mind.
The question of why the demi-humans were attacking remained, but this wasn’t the time for it.
Tarmin asked about what seemed like the simplest way to solve the problem.
“Enya, I’m just asking. Couldn’t you use the holy sword like you did that night at the Garden Festival? You know, make it flash, and all the monsters back off?”
Enya blinked her big eyes, then shook her head.
“Well, I figured.”
Tarmin hadn’t expected much from the idea either.
If the solution were that simple, Enya wouldn’t need to be so anxious.
“Stop getting so worked up. The monsters haven’t charged yet, and the citizens aren’t in danger.”
“But…”
The city gate hadn’t even been breached yet, but Tarmin was worried Enya would collapse from anxiety before it came to that.
If she stumbled around like that, she might get hurt on the steep stairs.
He wanted somehow to help her relax.
After briefly checking their surroundings, he stretched both hands out, prepared to take a slap or two.
“Hey! Snap out of it! If you keep spacing out like that, I’ll grab your boobs!”
Imitating a pervert, he reached out with his fingers curling and uncurling lewdly.
He’d expected her to glare at him and ask if this was really the time for that, but Tarmin’s hand reached Enya’s breasts without meeting any resistance.
A soft, yielding sensation filled his hand.
“Ah…”
Instead of angrily pushing him away, Enya let out a quiet moan, closed her eyes, and leaned against him.
The soft sensation grew stronger, and his fingers seemed to melt away as they sank into her.
“Uh, huh?”
Tarmin was flustered by Enya’s movement, almost as if she were drawing closer to him.
Enya raised her right hand and placed it over Tarmin’s hand on her breast.
When she took hold of his hand, Tarmin was the one whose face turned red.
Feeling as if he’d done something wrong and was about to be scolded, he hurriedly pulled his hand away.
No, he had done something wrong, actually.
Freed from Tarmin’s hand, Enya slowly opened her eyes.
“…Haa.”
Enya let out a strangely regretful, almost sensual sigh.
Tarmin cleared his throat and turned his head away.
Enya opened her hazy eyes and said,
“Tarmin’s hand is warm. It calms me down.”
“R-Really? That’s good… No, you idiot. This isn’t the time for that, is it?”
Tarmin was the one who’d reached out at a completely inappropriate moment, yet somehow he was also the one pointing that out.
Seeing Enya chuckle at the ridiculous situation, it seemed his original goal of helping her relax had more or less been achieved.
Tarmin sighed, then asked,
“Well, never mind. Feeling calmer?”
“Mm-hm. Thank you.”
**
The centaur gritted his teeth when the halberd in his hand reacted.
He’d thought he would at least meet his final battle with honor, but the Hero was moving away from him again.
As if he didn’t matter at all.
‘You’re running away to the very end!’
The next moment, the centaur charged toward the city gate in a rage.
Humiliation engulfed his whole body, and his resentment flowed from his fingertips into the halberd.
The spear glowed with dark crimson demonic energy and began to emit an ominous vibration.
The hunting spear he’d received from the Witch of Curses.
A spear said to have been made to hunt down the Hero.
It was an utterly vile object the witch had crafted from monster parts, but thanks to it, he’d crossed the continent and finally come face-to-face with the Hero.
The humans shouted.
“Stop him! Shoot!”
He heard the startled shouts of his subordinates behind him, thrown into confusion by his sudden charge, but paid them no mind.
He entered the archers’ range. Arrows began striking his armor and the ground around him, but he paid them no mind.
He knocked aside a single arrow that curved toward his throat.
There was someone atop the wall wielding a power similar to his.
A power that acted on things outside oneself.
The power of monsters.
His subordinates belatedly began returning fire.
A great many archers fell, screaming.
“Aaargh!”
The more resentment it consumed, the stronger the spear became.
He poured all his resentment into it and hurled it toward the gate before him.
-KRA-BOOOOM!
With an explosion like a bolt of lightning, the gate was torn apart like a sheet of paper.
He continued charging and raised his hand. The black halberd that had smashed the gate flew back into its master’s hand at his call.
He cut down several soldiers stunned by the blast, trampling and smashing through the barbican inside the gate as he charged onward.
Toward the center of the city.
Behind him, a thousand monsters followed at a slow pace.
The centaur galloped down the main road, spotted a girl with scarlet hair, and let out a roar.
“Benoa!”
The girl calmly drew her sword in an instant.
Spear and sword collided, and another explosion rang out.
*****