The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate

Chapter 77

In the end, Greenwood managed to reunite with the remaining knights. It was a relief, to say the least. Including himself, there were eight people gathered at Assembly Point Two. All had made it, except for Sir Eugene, who had fallen to Caron's sword, and the commander, whose fate remained grimly uncertain.

"Greenwood! What did you mean by what you said earlier?" one of the knights asked.

"Explain properly!" demanded another.

The knights who had arrived first required answers, but Greenwood had his gaze fixed on the path he had just come from, exclaiming with urgency in his voice, "There's no time for this. Form the defensive formation. Quickly! Caron Leston... Caron Leston is coming!"

He couldn't shake the image of Eugene's head hitting the ground, having been severed so effortlessly. A 5-Star knight, slain as if he was no more than a nameless soldier on the battlefield... Even though it had been a surprise attack, there was no denying that an overwhelming gap in strength made it possible.

He's at least 6-Star, Greenwood estimated grimly. If it was true that Caron had killed the commander, perhaps he was even past that.

Finding out the reason why Caron was hunting them wasn't their priority; surviving was. At the very least, the situation wasn't entirely hopeless, because the knights gathered there had fought alongside each other frequently when they were hunting beastkin and elves. They had trained together using an united strike formation, also known as "Formation Four." It was a tactic often employed by the Reben Knight Order, where multiple knights worked in tandem to bring down a single target. They had faced formidable opponents before, warriors strong enough to be considered 6-Star knights. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"We have to assume Caron Leston exceeds 6-Star," Greenwood warned, his voice full of urgency. "Do not let your guard down. Sir Eugene and the commander... They're both dead."

The desperate tone in his voice silenced the others. There was no need for further explanations. Greenwood's expression told them everything. This wasn't a joke.

"...Have you confirmed the commander's death?" Io, the second-in-command among the knights present, asked in a low voice.

"Caron Leston himself said that he killed him," Greenwood replied, his voice tight with fear.

"Damn it. No wonder we couldn't reach him," Io said.

"Io, we don't have much time! I'm sure Caron Leston is—" Greenwood began.

Just then, a voice interrupted. "The moon is dim tonight, but here you all are, gathered so nicely. One, two, three... Eight. Perfect. Saves me the trouble of searching for everyone."

Greenwood turned slowly, trembling.

A young man stepped out from between the trees, with a grin on his face. There he was, the devil with the dark blue sword, approaching them slowly under the faint glow of the moon.

When Io saw Caron approaching, he quickly shouted to the knights around him, "Formation Four! Now, get into Formation Four!"

At his command, the knights swiftly got into their positions with precision. However, Caron simply laughed, his smile mocking as he walked toward them.

"That formation looks a bit sloppy. Are you sure it'll hold? Even the recruits from the Oceanwolf Knight Order could do better than this," he said as he raised his sword.

The strategy they'd chosen, the united strike formation, was designed to allow weaker groups to overpower stronger opponents. In theory, a group of 5-Star knights could take down a 6-Star knight with it. The Oceanwolf Knight Order had dedicated entire training sessions to the technique, as it was proven to be highly effective. But, as Caron knew all too well, theory didn't always translate well into practice.

"Have any of you even fought real knights with that formation?" Caron sneered.

Although the knights were stationed at the border city, the empire hadn't waged war against the southern kingdoms in recent times. This formation required countless real battles worth of experience to master, and the Reben Knight Order had mostly been fighting slaves. While it would have been effective against those who lacked the tactical knowledge to exploit its weaknesses, it was a different story when the enemy understood how to counter it.

Whoosh.

A soft hum filled the air as Caron channeled his mana into his sword, Guillotine. He exhaled slowly while analyzing the knights' formation. There were three in the front, two on the sides, two at the rear, and one in the center. Their strategy was clear. The front three knights would block his attacks, while the others would exploit any opening that appeared. It was the most basic form of the united strike formation.

Even if I break through the front line, the knights on the sides and rear will immediately fill the gaps. It seems like a classic tactic, Caron mused.

They were trying to force their opponent to tire out, then overwhelm them when they were weakened. It was obvious that their training had focused more on capturing slaves than engaging in real battle.

"Your efforts have been so impressive," Caron remarked mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Perhaps that basic formation was good for capturing enemies, but it had one fatal flaw: It only worked when the enemy attacked directly. Which meant that the knights were completely exposed to Caron's long-range attack.

"What are you going to do if I attack from a distance?" Caron remarked.

Boom!

A massive wave of dark blue energy surged from Guillotine, cutting through the ground as it roared toward them. It was Oceanwolf Sword Arts Form 4: Raging Tide.

"Move, now—!" one of the knights shouted, but his warning was too late. The tidal wave of energy struck the knights' formation with merciless speed.

"Urgh!"

"Gah—!"

Two of the three knights standing at the front of the formation coughed up blood and were violently thrown backward. They crashed into trees with a sickening crack, both collapsing to the ground with their necks broken. It was clear to anyone watching that they were dead.

Because the two knights at the front had absorbed most of the attack, the ones behind them were spared from severe injury. But the horror of watching their comrades die so suddenly left the remaining knights visibly shaken.

"We... We can't beat him... How are we supposed to fight a monster like that?" one knight muttered, his voice trembling.

Fear spread quickly. That single whispered statement was enough to set off a chain reaction. The others began to shake as their courage crumbled. The sight of their fallen comrades didn't stir revenge in their hearts. Instead, it was overwhelming fear that seeped into every corner of their minds, including that of Io.

Blood trickled down Io's forehead from a cut made by the remnants of the wave. He was getting dizzy. He wondered if there was any way out of this situation, some path of escape from the grip of this monster.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Caron asked with a smile as he stepped forward. "No need to stress yourself. I've got a solution right here."

The formation they had set up was already in disarray. The knights, gripped by terror, abandoned their positions. Some even started stepping back. This battle was lost, and it didn't take much thought to realize that.

Flash!

Caron vanished from sight, and by the time Io's vision caught up, it was already too late.

Slash!

The knight standing beside Io dropped to the ground, and his severed head rolled away. Caron landed lightly after the strike, glancing around at the remaining knights.

"How's that? That should solve your little dilemma," he remarked with a sinister grin.

One of the knights, driven mad with fear, screamed as he charged at Caron. "Aaaaahhh!"

His strike was wild and uncoordinated. It was a desperate swing. Caron easily parried the attack with a simple flick of his sword.

Clang!

Their swords collided for a brief moment, and the knight's sword shattered into pieces.

Shwick!

Guillotine devoured the broken blade and went straight for the knight's throat, tearing it apart in one clean motion. That made four dead already, and only three remained.

With a trembling voice, Io shouted, "Everyone, run in different directions!"

At this point, their honor as knights didn't matter anymore. Everything was over. From the beginning, they should never have tried to fight this monster. When there were seven of them, they should have split up into seven directions and run away. That would have been their only chance.

Whoosh!

Using all the mana he could muster, Io overcharged his mana channels, forcing it into his legs as he bolted away. Greenwood and the remaining knight fled in different directions, each choosing their own path.

"Hah! These worms..." Caron muttered, frowning as he watched them scatter in three directions.

"They're putting up more resistance than expected," Guillotine grumbled.

"Well, what can't you do if your life depends on it?" Caron sighed, gathering mana into his sword once more. Quickly taking aim, he hurled his sword at Io's retreating figure.

Swish!

The dark blue streak of energy tore through the air, striking Io in the back.

Thud!

Io fell to the ground, and his body twitched a few times before finally going still.

Caron calmly walked over to the fallen knight's body and muttered, "I guess there's only two left."

The hunt was nearing its end.

***

Greenwood bit his lip hard as he ran. He bit it so hard that blood trickled down. But there was no time for him to look back. Perhaps that monster wasn't even chasing him, but he couldn't afford to stop.

Why do I have to die? Greenwood thought.

He wondered if it was because of something as trivial as capturing some runaway slaves. He had so much ahead of him; he couldn't accept that he had to die for something like that. They weren't even human!

Sure, he had captured runaway slaves before, but they were all the same. They were wretches with miserable lives. They were nothing like him, someone who was destined for a glorious future.

...For now, I just need to reach the village outside the forest, Greenwood thought.

The village of Luka, located near the Tirisfal Forest, was a large settlement; it was a waypoint for those traveling from the empire's central regions to the south. The village was guarded by a sizable militia, and no matter how mad Caron Leston was, he wouldn't be able to extend his rampage into a place like that.

It was truly a shame that his comrades had died, but their deaths didn't matter right now. What mattered was survival. Greenwood had to live. He had to be the one to tell the world what Caron Leston had done. Only then could there be hope for vengeance.

Once Marquis Leandro hears of this, he won't stand by, Greenwood thought.

An heir of the empire's greatest hero, leader of a prestigious noble family, had committed such a heinous massacre. If he could get the word out, there would be plenty of ways to exact revenge.

"Ah!" Greenwood gasped as he caught sight of the forest's edge. The trees, which had formed an almost impenetrable wall, were thinning. And ahead of him, faint light from the road's luminescent stones shone. He was almost there. He just had to keep running down that road and he'd reach Luka Village soon.

"Hah..." he panted, barely able to catch his breath. He had no idea how long he'd been running. He'd burned through most of his mana, and the energy that had filled him earlier was nearly depleted. Just a little more. He only had to hold on for one more minute—sixty seconds more and he'd make it.

"Ugh..." His lungs burned as his breath caught in his throat. His mana ran dry, no longer able to support his legs. His muscles felt as if they were going to tear apart. He couldn't remember the last time he had pushed himself this hard, but now there was hope in front of him.

The glowing stones of the road that had previously looked so far away began to shimmer just ahead. The endless stretch of trees had disappeared. Just twenty more steps, only twenty more, and he would escape this nightmare of a forest.

"Ha..." Greenwood felt a small sense of relief as light greeted him, as if the darkness itself was retreating.

I made it... he thought. Greenwood was just five steps away from freedom.

But he couldn't walk into the light.

A man was standing at the exit of the forest, gripping a sword that glowed with a dark blue hue. And that man greeted Greenwood with a wide smile.

"How does it feel, tasting hope?" Caron asked.

At that moment, Greenwood's legs finally gave out and he collapsed to the ground.

"...Ha... Haha... Ha..." Greenwood began to laugh, a broken, hysterical laugh. It had all been a game from the start. That demon had been toying with him the whole time, letting him run away only to crush him in the end.

"Why... Why are you doing this...?" Greenwood asked, his voice filled with despair.

Caron stepped forward slowly and said, "It's so you can feel what it's like to be a slave before you die. The slaves you hunted down probably felt exactly like you do right now."

"But you... You're no different, aren't you? How would a slave feel? You were born into a prestigious family. You've lived comfortably your whole life! You hypocrite, you—" Greenwood began.

"In this life, yes, I have," Caron interrupted, "But not in the previous one."

"...What?" Greenwood asked, confused.

"You don't need the details. Just think of it like this. You all deserved to die. If you make others shed blood and tears, you'll pay the price," Caron explained.

With those words, he raised his sword high, looming over Greenwood, then said, "It's time to die."

Guillotine plunged into Greenwood's neck.

There was no paradise waiting at the end of this escape.