Episode 239: It’s a Hunt. (6)
The Lord’s Castle of Beneta.
The opulent corridors, touched by the hands of dwarf artisans over countless years, were dyed into pools of blood in a single day.
Among them, the main passage leading toward the castle’s core.
At the entrance of a corridor wide enough for ten people to walk through side by side, a fierce battle was raging.
Kraang!
Sharp teeth and claws.
Beastmen in the form of wild animals swarmed together, pressing their enemy before them.
The ones blocking the entrance were the knights who had come with Harkman. They perfectly defended the passage, blocking the beastmen’s approach entirely.
It wasn’t just a few beastmen.
They were reinforcements sent by Fenry Chaser, numbering in the hundreds.
Their sheer numbers filled the entire entrance, but even their fierce onslaught couldn’t break through the twenty-man defensive wall.
“These monster bastards really don’t know fear.”
“They can speak, though. That makes them not monsters, doesn’t it?”
Despite being outnumbered more than ten to one, the knights remained relaxed.
A thick barrier shimmered before them—a mana shield was blocking the beastmen’s advance.
But only for a while. When the shield was torn by the beastmen’s claws, the knights, as if they’d been waiting, raised their shields simultaneously.
And then, combined magic brought forth a miracle. With one knight’s muttered incantation,
Bzzzzzt!
Blue lightning crackled from the tight shield formation.
The energy of thunder flowed across the floor.
Beastmen caught in its wake contorted in agony and froze up, and in that opening, the knights launched a counterattack.
Boom—!
Clatter—
A dark, dense flow of mana poured from the weapons they swung.
Magic artifacts crafted by Demtor.
As sharp magic burst from the knights’ weapons, the approaching beastmen vomited blood and fell one after another.
A magic knight order that fought with artifacts.
Mages referred to them as "Cleaners."
They were the ones who tidied up what Demtor found troublesome.
Grrr—
As the damage mounted, the beastmen growled but dared not approach their fallen comrades.
They couldn’t break through with brute force alone.
The knights, having secured the area, looked around with smiles.
“Thought it’d be tougher, but this is easier than expected.”
“Puny things like this wouldn’t have experienced magic, would they?”
“Still, conserve your mana. You can’t recharge here.”
Glowing runes engraved on their armor supplied mana to their equipment.
Although a decent amount of mana remained stored in their armor, since they were on cursed land, mana could not be replenished, so they had to conserve it.
They clicked their tongues as they glanced at the corpses around them.
“Would’ve preferred if the elves came. Instead, we just got a pack of furballs.”
“The Captain’ll drag out the finest elf from this region soon enough. Quit complaining.”
Behind the entrance they guarded, within the corridor-connected chamber, the targets they were hunting waited.
Dorneth Gader.
And Sharbadin.
By now, they would have reached the door.
Though they’d heard of Dorneth’s power as the Lord of Frost, the knights didn’t consider the possibility of Harkman losing.
Harkman Oleve, the Iron Knight.
He was one of the top "Cleaners" under Demtor.
His strength was the real deal.
“The Captain could probably rule this place like a king, don’t you think?”
“He could, sure. But there’s no mana here.”
Once someone grew accustomed to mana weapons, it was hard to part with them.
And Harkman was no exception.
“They say battle mages skilled in close combat appeared. If we can get our hands on their equipment, we could live like kings even in Hell Grime.”
“Wasn’t that just a rumor? Thought those mages got wiped out and the whole thing got buried.”
“I’m saying it could be true.”
Battle mages who excelled not only in magic but also in physical combat.
There had been an incident where the existence of Irregulars briefly surfaced and then disappeared.
“Enough chatter! They’re coming!”
More beastmen joined the fray, increasing their numbers, closing in with murderous intent.
“They’re flailing around like they want to die.”
If it were a Dwarf Knight Order, that might be different.
But these ones could never defeat them.
This fight would soon be over.
Though the real prey was Sharbadin, this battle would be won simply by capturing the lord of this land.
[It won’t take long.]
The Captain was confident, so their mission would soon be complete.
Just as they raised their shields again, envisioning the lovely elf they’d take as spoils—
“Huh?”
Through the beastmen collapsing in pools of blood, a conspicuous figure slowly emerged.
Small and frail, but familiar.
A human.
Among beastmen, that made him all the more noticeable.
More than that—
“Twin swords?”
In the human’s hands were two swords, differing in length and thickness.
Both a vivid crimson, matching the bloody scenery of the battlefield.
***
KWAHHHH—!
The crashing impact shook the entire corridor.
A massive silver greatsword flashed.
Harkman furrowed his brows as he retrieved his sword.
A heavily dented iron door came into view.
He was cutting through the castle’s center following the route Kamel Blazer had provided, but then the passages were suddenly sealed off by iron gates, isolating him.
No panic.
[When you reach the central area, the castle’s internal defense mechanisms will activate.]
He already knew that, thanks to Kamel.
And—
[Don’t even think of breaking through the outer wall. Just destroy the iron doors in front of you one by one.]
KWAHHHH—!
Once, twice, three times.
As the solid iron door gradually split open under the force of the steel greatsword, Harkman stabbed into the crack and twisted.
Crack!
The door split in two and tore apart.
[This method is only possible for you.]
“Kamel was right. Only I can break through this.”
The doors made by dwarves were sturdier than expected, but not enough to stop his greatsword.
Harkman destroyed the doors one by one, moving forward.
Then,
KWAHHHH—!
“Is this the last one?”
Standing before an especially thick and troublesome gate, he sensed the target lay beyond it.
His body gradually turned silver, glowing so brightly that his figure became hard to discern.
By combining his steel attribute with enchantments—Sharpness, Blasting, and Corrosion—he pushed the sword’s power to its limit.
It gave him the strength to destroy anything.
Weapon Breaker, the magic sword.
KWOOOHHHHH—!
With a charge, the massive sword struck the iron gate, sending cracks spiderwebbing across it.
Dozens of strikes.
The surface began to split, and light spilled through from the other side.
He could see it.
And feel it.
KWAAAHHH—!
The moment he broke through and charged in—
“NOOOOM!!!”
With a fierce roar, a dwarf clad in golden armor charged at him.
Harkman bared his teeth in a vicious grin.
Yes. That murderous intent—
“The dwarf’s making his last stand.”
But to Harkman, it only felt like the final struggle of a cornered rat.
WOOOONG—!
A hammer wreathed in icy blue came crashing in.
That white-frosted hammer had to be the Hammer of Frost.
An ancient artifact said to freeze one’s entire body and slow movement upon contact.
He already had a plan.
KWAANG—!
Harkman’s greatsword clashed with the massive hammer.
A flurry of clashes.
Dozens of blows exchanged in the blink of an eye.
A burst of frost rained down on Harkman.
White mist exploded in every direction.
Moments later, Dorneth was flung outside, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the hammer again.
Heavy, sharp, violent.
The moment they clashed, he felt overwhelmed.
No—what he felt was deep rejection.
The Hammer of Frost was screaming.
As a Grand Master Blacksmith, he could sense it.
It was the fear that it might break.
“So it’s similar to cold magic.”
Harkman emerged from the mist, unscathed.
His rune-engraved armor glowed, protecting his body from the cold.
Dorneth glared at the sword in his hand.
“The screaming of the blades is deafening. A truly monstrous sword.”
“You recognize this blade? Guess that’s what makes a Grand Master different.”
“It’s beyond my capabilities.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Harkman’s body began to glow silver again.
“At least, until they watch their weapons shatter in despair.”
He already knew everything about Dorneth’s abilities and equipment.
This was a battle he could not lose.
“...Damn it!”
The man’s aura intensified.
With a desperate expression, Dorneth burst with blue energy and shouted—
“Take her and run!”
He had thought he could hold out, that reinforcements would arrive if he just bought time.
But the moment they clashed, he realized—he had to get her out.
That composed expression—
There was no way he’d be so calm if he weren’t certain help wouldn’t arrive.
“Smuggling away the prize is cheating, you know.”
“Shut your mouth!”
As Harkman gave the signal, the knights who had been waiting dashed past Dorneth, heading deeper inside.
Dorneth moved to stop them, but the silver greatsword swept in from the front.
KAAANG—!
“...Kuugh!”
With each frenzied blow he parried, Dorneth’s face twisted in pain.
That cursed blade—
It held the predator’s power to destroy weapons within its monstrous hardness.
Sharpness to dig into the hammer,
Blasting to shake its tiny gaps,
And Corrosion to twist even the smallest cracks.
The Hammer of Frost screamed in agony.
It was breaking.
WOOOONG—
Dorneth reinforced the hammer with frost magic.
He had to protect it—without it, it wouldn’t last.
“Do you know why they call us the 'Cleaners'?”
KAKAKAKAKAKANG—!
Silver and blue auras clashed, turning the battlefield into a grotesque mess.
Everything caught in the clash was smashed apart.
“Because we clean up everything unnecessary, and collect all that’s valuable.”
“Shut up!”
“Kuhuhu. After dealing with the Black Stars, this is downright relaxing.”
Prime Root—a criminal city in Hell Grime formed in defiance of Demtor and the Mage Tower Union’s laws.
Compared to the Black Stars ruling that place, this dwarf was nothing.
Compared to the reward, this felt like a vacation.
KYAAAAH!
A scream echoed from behind the battlefield.
Dorneth’s pupils trembled.
That voice—unmistakable.
Had Sharbadin been captured?
Harkman didn’t miss the opening.
“KRAAAHHH!"
He struck with full force.
BOOM—!
Once.
BOOM BOOM—!
Twice, three times, four.
He didn’t aim for Dorneth—he targeted the handle of the hammer, which was barely moving anymore.
As expected of a dwarf-made weapon, its durability was second to none.
But—
CRACK—
“...N-No!”
TUNK—!
Every weapon has a weak point.
Cracks ran through the handle of the Hammer of Frost, and its head flew off.
“Execution!”
Silver slashes rained down on the disarmed opponent.
It wasn’t something that could be blocked.
Dorneth’s golden armor cracked instantly, and he was soon drenched in blood.
Harkman kicked the dying Dorneth in the chest and gave a signal—
A capture signal.
At the signal, the knights stepped forward and extended their bracelets.
From the bracelets, silver ropes shot out, binding Dorneth’s limbs and coiling around his neck.
Dorneth groaned as the noose tightened and writhed.
“I told you. We take everything that’s useful. Killing a Grand Master is a huge loss to Demtor. If we bring you in, we’ll receive a reward beyond imagination.”
A Grand Master, and the Dwarf Lord.
He was a hostage valuable enough to move even the dwarves.
They had planned to capture and drag him to Demtor from the start.
But—
“Your fiancée, however, will be left behind. That greedy old man won’t share, you know.”
“KUAAAGH!"
Harkman felt a deep thrill as he looked down at Dorneth’s wailing face.
This despair, from above—It was the victor’s right. A pleasure only the winner could savor.
If he played with her in this grand hall, he might enjoy the ultimate ecstasy.
He basked in the anticipation, indulging in his victorious imagination—
“Why aren’t they back yet?”
The subordinates sent to fetch her still hadn’t returned.