Ch.152Subjugation (4)

# Agility.

In this world, that name, known to few, was different from the typical understanding of agility.

Grim Darker’s agility was an ability that encompassed all senses.

It wasn’t just about dexterity but applied to all five senses, and those with high agility demonstrated truly beast-like sensory perception.

That’s why Llewellyn had spoken to Melody as if her reaction was an overreaction when he told her how he escaped.

If he could do it, so could she.

And that statement was true. At least as far as Llewellyn knew.

At that time, Llewellyn’s agility was 20.

The same as Melody’s current agility of 20. That’s why Llewellyn believed that what was possible for him would also be possible for Melody, who had the same level of ability.

And that wasn’t wrong.

20 is a superhuman level.

Exceeding 18, which is considered the human limit, it was a realm permitted only to humans who were masters of Netel.

Even Llewellyn, who knew nothing about architecture, could comprehend the entire fortress structure and plan an escape within a year at this level.

With eyes closed and focusing on senses, one could feel beyond walls. When the wind blew, one could trace it back to read what lay beyond hills, and map spaces through sound alone.

One could detect a starving beast crouched in the bushes by smell before seeing it.

Theoretically, Melody could do all this. Vision was just one of the senses. Having lost her eyes shouldn’t have been a problem.

The problem was that Melody was human.

Humans are creatures dependent on sight. And not just simple dependence.

Fierce dependence. That’s why humans who lose their sight usually become terrified.

Even after removing the sense of loss and extracting the pain, the remaining fear stems from this reason.

Because losing one’s eyes means losing so much.

Humans who lose their sight cannot maintain proper balance. While those born without sight or those who have adapted might be different, someone who has just lost their sight finds it difficult even to stand properly.

This leads to a loss of confidence.

They lack certainty and begin to doubt all their actions.

Whether they’re moving correctly.

Whether they’re doing things properly.

Whether they’re acting according to their intentions.

They can’t know. Because they can’t see. This becomes the unknown, and the unknown naturally becomes fear for humans.

When Felencia saw Melody lose her eyes and felt certain of victory, it wasn’t arrogance.

It was a cold analysis. Nevertheless, considering the possibility of being killed and Melody’s potential, she sent her soldiers first.

When blood sprayed from those soldiers’ necks, she thought she had made the right decision.

But she couldn’t understand. Felencia watched the girl with her hand gripping her sword so tightly it might break.

She rotated smoothly, as if dancing.

That rotation contained the decisiveness to deflect an axe aimed at her and immediately pierce a throat, and the meticulousness to flutter her cloak and avoid a spear targeting her back.

With a skill as if she had eyes on the back of her head, she completed her rotation and smoothly thrust her estoc.

The dark brown blade pierced through armor and into the spearman’s neck, and by the time the blade withdrew, Melody was already gone.

She walked confidently. Her light steps made no sound or presence.

Suddenly, she was close. Felencia, seeing the girl approach as if in a dream, hastily swung her sword.

Clang!

The meeting of blades was light. She couldn’t even push forward. Physically, Felencia had the advantage.

But why?

It was strange. A feeling of emptiness, as if facing an illusion. She felt it even as she slightly pushed away the blade, only to see another thrust coming.

“—Kuk!”

As she twisted her head to avoid it, her hat was pierced and torn. The strike had precisely targeted just below her chin.

Precise and smooth. Not particularly fast, yet difficult to avoid. She found herself breathless without knowing why. Felencia pulled her front foot back and thrust her estoc, but…

Clack, clang!

Melody caught the blade with her delicate hand and extended it, causing Felencia’s strike to flow along the blade and slip to the side.

There was no strength. No speed. And yet.

‘What is this? This swordplay…’

A sword thrust extending straight out. Targeting the eyes. Despite not being able to see, the precise strike didn’t waver.

Hesitation, anxiety. None of these were felt. The strike moved forward with certainty, intending to take life.

‘How? Can’t she not see?’

Humans who lose their sight cannot move properly.

Because they haven’t adapted like those born without sight, they can’t move as usual when they first lose their eyes.

Setting aside the sense of loss, in reality, that loss significantly impacts one’s fighting spirit.

Humans who lose their fighting spirit cannot fight. That’s usually the case.

But this?

Felencia struggled to withstand the rain-like barrage of strikes coming at her, yet still had to allow several attacks through.

Ingenious and smooth.

She moved as if she knew Felencia’s intentions and thoughts.

A sword strike that seemed to pass by the raised estoc gently curved to pierce her side, and when she twisted her body to barely block it with her breastplate, the trajectory visibly changed to stab her leg.

Being an estoc, the wound couldn’t be called light. Blood sprayed, and amidst it, Felencia stared at Melody with confusion and fear.

She saw a girl with her eyes gently closed. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her hair, disheveled by intense movements, shimmered in the moonlight.

Amidst sweat and blood, only the girl swam freely.

With certainty, not fear, loss, or anxiety.

Felencia couldn’t understand, and neither could Melody herself.

She had lost her eyes. Having had good vision before, there was no guarantee she could fight properly after losing it.

But to escape the situation, she had to. She had to fight.

That’s why she stood here now.

With a body that felt stiff and painful as if it might crumble at the knees, holding an estoc, exhaling breaths that quickly became labored, desperately trying to steady her body that wanted to stagger.

That’s how she swung her sword.

Naturally, she couldn’t see where her sword strikes were going.

Normally, she wouldn’t know if she was moving correctly.

She couldn’t see ahead, couldn’t see her enemy, couldn’t see her surroundings.

Just from losing her sight.

But her body moved as well as she thought it would. When she extended her sword, she felt the sensation of flesh being cut through her fingertips.

The swordsmanship she had practiced countless times during her adventures with Lucilla, its fundamentals.

It was unfolding exactly as Melody intended.

Despite the fear, anxiety, and distrust enveloping her entire body, her body was moving properly.

Despite having no time to adapt.

Melody found the reason in pain.

Pain that filled her entire body, with no place that didn’t hurt, making her feel even more vividly.

She moved with such a body. Two main senses guided her.

Touch and hearing.

Melody suddenly drew the scabbard from her waist and held it in her left hand.

As Felencia cautiously pointed her estoc defensively…

Tap!

The scabbard tapped the ground.

Melody thought of a certain creature. Monsters called giant bats.

They enjoy hunting prey in pitch darkness.

Echolocation, was it? Lucilla had said they make sounds and use the echoes to understand their surroundings.

Melody was the same. She vividly remembered the story Llewellyn had casually told her.

And his firm belief that Melody could do the same.

So Melody did just that. She tapped the ground with her scabbard.

The sound spread out. Like a net cast over the sea, she focused her senses to receive the echoes bouncing back from objects.

She could feel it. Felencia retreating in confusion, taking a defensive stance, and the people standing behind her.

Creak, the sound of wood crying. Taut. A bow. Then there were also groaning sounds from behind where Melody had passed.

Footsteps approaching with groans. A mercenary closing the distance, seeking an opportunity among the injured and dead.

Quick-witted. Sensing that she was using echolocation, he deliberately made groaning sounds while closing the distance.

But Melody’s senses went beyond that, opening a new horizon.

She could hear heartbeats.

Thump, thump, thump.

Or was it not sound?

Maybe it was touch. Perhaps vibrations transmitted through the ground.

It might be magical power, or perhaps an illusion.

But it didn’t matter. Melody wanted to do what she could.

She closed her fine lips.

Wheeeeeeee!

A sudden whistle. Bodies froze. Felencia naturally recalled the story famous throughout the continent.

The Golden Nightingale, Melody. The tale that her whistle could dismantle armies.

‘Oh no, magic…!’

As she reflexively drew up magical power, Melody leaped with a light push of her back foot.

The distance shortened. She hadn’t used magic. The whistle was part of her echolocation and a feint.

The soldiers who had memorized information about Melody also froze momentarily, as did the mercenary who had been waiting for an opportunity to ambush.

Only Melody moved. While everyone was drawing up magical power to counter magic, she alone extended her sword thrust.

Crack, clang!

The estoc that Felencia reflexively raised was split in two.

“I’m out of magical power. Sorry.”

A kind and beautiful smile. If only the dark brown blade wasn’t shooting toward her head.

Felencia let out a hollow laugh amidst her dismay, and her head was pierced.

Her body trembled, and when the sword was withdrawn, she collapsed to the ground.

She moved no more. She simply died, staring blankly at the ground with lifeless eyes.

Melody stood beside the man’s corpse and said:

“Since I’m busy, shall we keep this short?”

Melody had clearly lost her eyes.

Her body wasn’t functioning properly due to injuries, and even now she was barely moving, far from being whole.

Yet somehow…

The soldiers surrounding Melody suddenly sensed that they were at a disadvantage.

“I have someone I need to help.”

And that was the last thing she said.

Tap!

The scabbard in her left hand struck the ground once more.

And beneath the descending moon, everything turned red.