Ch.314Where is she?

Until now, Noah had been commanding the paladins, but with the enemy’s Champion on the wall, there was no time for leisurely command.

He himself had skills comparable to a Master. Having such a powerful fighter merely giving orders would be a waste of their already limited fighting strength.

Therefore, he too was fighting alongside Frider van Faelrun against the Champion.

“Calm yourself, Lady! You won’t defeat this enemy by fighting in a frenzy!”

Noah sighed in relief as he scolded Frider. The moment just before had truly been dangerous.

If not for the hastily cast protective miracle, “Mirror Image,” their commander would have died instantly.

Oleg thought he had pierced through Frider who had dodged to his right, but that was merely an illusion created by the miracle.

In reality, Frider had dodged in the opposite direction.

Having nearly died, Frider nodded and glared at Oleg again,

her face contorted like a demon, grinding her molars.

‘Well, she’s no different from a wild dog.’

Oleg let out a hollow laugh and charged at them again.

To face both the Master of Faelrun and a high priest of the Church of Menes, even he had to fight with all his might.

—-

Oleg wasn’t the only one engaged in fierce combat.

“Do you think you can defeat me by standing in my way? Once the battle descends into chaos, His Majesty becomes invincible!”

“That’s not my concern. I just need to kill you.”

Nazar’s greatsword and Leonore Wittelsbach’s longsword tangled in a chaotic dance.

Coincidentally, both were warriors who specialized in blocking enemy attacks and counterattacking.

While Nazar’s attacks were more powerful, Leonore had the advantage in technical precision.

With their evenly matched skills and defensive fighting styles, neither had drawn blood yet.

—-

While the powerful fighters from both sides clashed, Baryachrus warriors began climbing up the walls one after another.

Most had several arrows lodged in their shoulders or backs, and their fur was blackened from burns, but their ferocity remained undiminished.

“Ballistas! Open fire! Knock them back down!”

The ballistas that had retreated to the rear fired again at the Werebeasts who had reached the top of the wall.

Massive arrows pierced the beasts’ bodies, and the impact sent them plummeting back down.

“Imperial Knights! Now is the time to prove your honor!”

“Offer tribute to Menes!”

Knights and paladins wreathed in the Silver Moon miracle began engaging the warriors who had climbed up. Roars and battle cries covered the wall.

Blood washed away blood in the fierce battle. Human corpses fell, Werebeast bodies collapsed on top of them, and half-eaten humans piled on further.

The Werebeasts didn’t just wield weapons.

They slashed with their claws, pierced with their talons, and sometimes, when locked in combat, lunged forward to tear off their opponent’s head with their jaws.

Though the Imperial Knights had become somewhat accustomed to fighting Werebeasts from their experience at the North Wall, these attacks remained difficult to counter.

The casualties continued to mount.

—-

Lyudmila pointed at the battlefield and gently patted Abigeyl’s back with her other hand, as if soothing a child.

“See? Stop playing around and fight properly. You can postpone your fun until after we win. Wouldn’t the screams of captured women sound much better than those of men anyway?”

“That’s true… Alright. I’ll do as you say.”

Abigeyl nodded.

Despite her insolent personality, even Abigeyl knew it was better to follow Lyudmila’s words when she spoke this seriously.

After all, once Lyudmila became angry, she turned insanely ferocious.

“Good. I’ll leave this to you. Do your best. I have… some business over there.”

Lyudmila turned her head and looked toward the watchtower.

Her beast’s instinct whispered to her. The archer who had been shooting arrows from there was definitely watching her now.

‘Yes. Wait there. Let’s see your face.’

Lyudmila revealed her fangs in a smile and dashed toward the watchtower.

—-

Meanwhile, Rurik had literally become a massive threshing machine.

Behind the winter wolf sweeping across the wall, human remains scattered like spray.

“Where are you, Aishan-Gioro! Are you cowering in fear of the cold!”

Blood flowed like a river. It was impossible for knights or soldiers to withstand his attacks.

Strangely, not a single fighter with Master-level skills or above had appeared before him to stop him even momentarily.

“Aaaaargh!”

“Monster! It’s a monster! Run! How can we fight something like that!”

“Where has the Were Eater gone?!”

Soldiers screamed and tried to flee. But that was an impossible wish.

Their rear was already packed with other soldiers, and at the very back, knights with hardened expressions pointed their swords at them.

The only way to escape Rurik was to jump off the wall.

Though the knights looked displeased, they didn’t disobey their superior’s orders.

They hadn’t been told the exact reason why the Baron of Median wasn’t being deployed, but they were told this was the only way to defeat those monsters.

Soldiers were torn apart like weeds.

—-

Meanwhile, Haschal Median Aishan-Gioro, whom the soldiers were desperately searching for, had pulled her coat low to cover her face and was keeping her distance from Rurik.

Though she was extremely reluctant, according to the battle plan discussed earlier, she needed to eliminate the others first before dealing with Rurik.

Of the seven Champions, five had climbed onto the wall.

Coincidentally, excluding Haschal, there were exactly five allied fighters capable of facing a Champion.

Frider van Faelrun, Leonore Wittelsbach, Millia, Noah, and Demian.

Demian’s skills were somewhat insufficient to fight a Champion alone, and Millia’s chances would drastically decrease in close combat, but still.

If those five could each handle one Champion, Haschal would have rushed without hesitation toward Rurik, who was turning the battlefield into a slaughterhouse. Soldiers facing Rurik were dying at a rate of twenty per second.

However, unfortunately for Haschal, the battle situation wasn’t so simple.

“Damn it…”

Grinding her teeth and cursing, Haschal looked toward Frider.

Chain scythes and saw-bladed swords cut through the air, while silver holy light extended in streams.

“Twilight,” “Silver Moon,” “Blue Dream,” and “Mirror Image” – all kinds of miracles from the Church of Menes were being unleashed frantically.

A snow tiger roared fiercely, tearing apart everything around him.

The double-headed axe in his hands whirled like it was splitting the wall like firewood.

He was a Werebeast that Haschal recognized.

‘Oleg. So he was here too…!’

In her memory, a monster who had reigned as the king of Baryachrus.

Though he seemed weaker than in his prime, he was still not an opponent to be taken lightly.

He was not only holding his own but even gaining the upper hand against the Master of House Faelrun, who had made hunting Werebeasts his lifelong mission, and a high priest of the Church of Menes, which specialized in fighting Werebeasts.

‘Of all places to appear… Was he originally Rurik’s subordinate? It would have been better if they were rivals.’

Because of him, Haschal couldn’t go stop Rurik.

With those two tied up fighting just one Champion, the only one who could fill that gap was Haschal herself.

So for now, she had to let Rurik rampage.

Then who should she target first? Haschal’s gaze swept across the wall.

The fox fighting Leonore Wittelsbach. The hyena rushing toward Millia. The snow leopard and the black wolf slaughtering knights.

‘Ah…?’

Her gaze fixed on the wolf. A familiar appearance. For a moment, she almost mistook him for Boris come back to life.

Even the faint scent drifting toward her was similar to his.

The corners of her mouth curled upward.

She had realized who to slaughter first.

The Were Eater began approaching the black wolf, like a beast stalking its prey while hidden in the grass.

The soldiers and knights were desperately looking for her, but now was not the time to reveal herself.

If anyone saw her approaching a Champion, they would immediately understand her purpose.

Haschal hung from the back of the wall, carefully and naturally moving toward Valentin Ivanov, supporting herself by piercing the wall with her Karma tentacles and Frosting, crawling like a spider.

—-

“Hmm…?”

Valentin Ivanov, who had been slaughtering knights, stopped swinging his halberd and looked around.

The faint scent suddenly grew stronger, wetting the tip of his nose. Even after sniffing again, it was an incredibly familiar smell. As if he had returned to his homeland.

‘Homeland…? Why would I think that?’

Valentin stroked his chin, pondering the question that flashed through his mind.

Seeing this as an opening, several knights charged at him.

“Oh come on. I was just about to remember something.”

A sword wreathed in the Silver Moon miracle flew toward the wolf Werebeast’s vital point.

Clicking his tongue, Valentin swung his halberd again.

– Crash!

The longsword that collided with the halberd shattered into pieces. Even with the Silver Moon blessing, it was only meant to suppress the Werebeasts’ regenerative abilities. It didn’t provide enough strength to block a piece of metal swung with a Champion’s power.

“Ugh…!”

“Couldn’t you just die in advance instead of interfering?”

The wolf’s front paw flew toward the knight who had lost his weapon and hesitated. Sharp claws shot out with enough force to penetrate the helmet. Even if they didn’t penetrate, they had enough power to easily break a human’s neck. The knight’s life flashed before his eyes.

“—Well, that’s my line.”

A cold, sarcastic remark filled with killing intent. A woman who seemed to spring up from behind the wall intercepted Valentin’s claws.

Not by drawing a weapon, but merely by extending her left arm.

It was clearly a reckless act. Anyone could see that the slender arm would be severed and the body torn to pieces. The knights swallowed their gasps.

– Clang!

Instead of the sound of tearing flesh, a clear metallic ring echoed.

“What…!”

Valentin’s eyes widened. Astonishment flowed from between his open jaws.

The Champion’s strike, powerful enough to crush steel, had been stopped by a single slender arm.