Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 10

Walm was struggling against the adventurer’s unpredictably accelerating sword and body, but as his comrades were injured one after another, the man’s movements slowed noticeably, and a decisive moment seemed imminent. The adventurer, known as Al, was pinned to a large tree by Walm’s halberd, deeply embedded in his shoulder.

“You’re not used to killing, huh? I envy you.”

“Aaaaargh!!”

The man in front of Walm, obviously a kind and compassionate person, wasn’t cut out for the battlefield. Walm pitied him. As Walm tried to pull out his halberd, but sheer determination wouldn’t make it budge. Stepping back, Walm drew his longsword, aiming to decapitate the man in a single swing. With this adventurer down, the rest would fall like dominoes.

Walm’s exposed skin caught the wind, an unnatural sensation. Then, his instincts took over. Leaping aside, Walm barely escaped a violent gust of wind. The power and density of the wind, created from magic, was incomparable to anything else. Though he managed to turn around, sharp pain shot through his right arm. Tiny cuts covered his armor, and numerous wounds on his exposed fingers and joints bled profusely.

“What is this magic?!”

Realizing there was a hidden card at play, Walm looked for the caster and found the young girl he had almost killed. Her previously frightened face was now glaring at Walm with fierce determination.

“It was you?”

As Walm closed in, the girl unleashed a second strike without hesitation.

“This is no joke.”

Walm dove behind the trees. Trees were cut, and other soldiers caught in the blast bled profusely. The power of the attack was absurdly high. Whether she could rapidly fire such attacks or not, the winds were indiscriminately ravaging the forest.

“Spread out! It’s an area attack!!”

Following Duwey’s command, the soldiers sought cover. Walm was no exception. As the winds ceased, Walm noticed the adventurers and a few soldiers starting to flee. The adventurer Walm had pinned to the tree had also disappeared.

Picking up his blood-soaked halberd, Walm realized he had failed to kill the adventurer, judging by the amount of blood around.

“Such a powerful attack, she couldn’t have kept firing it for long.”

Wilart commented, brushing off dirt and branches.

“No kidding. We’re letting a few slip away, huh?”

Squad Leader, carrying his war hammer, looked displeased.

“Squad Leader, what about pursuing them?”

Jose, accompanied by Nohl and Barrit, emerged from between the trees.

“Call it off. We’ve decimated the enemy’s main force. What’s left are just remnants of the Mayard soldiers and adventurers. That’s for other squads to handle. We don’t need to overdo it.”

“Understood. We’ll gather the wounded and the remaining enemies. Come on, you guys, you weren’t much help in the fight.”

“That’s not fair!”

Barrit protested but was nudged into silence by Jose. Nohl, wisely choosing not to resist, followed suit. Walm, bandaging his arm, surveyed the forest. The rest was up to the other squads. If lucky, those adventurers might even escape. Walm tested his numb arm, opening and closing his fingers. The blades of wind were sharp, each blow heavy.

The saving grace was that the adventurers weren’t accustomed to killing people or seeing their friends get killed. If they had been, Walm might have been the one lying dead. The words of the girl adventurer replayed in his mind.

“I don’t enjoy killing either.”

Muttering to no one in particular, Walm reflected on the irony. No one in the forest of corpses would believe him. If only he had to fight monsters, Walm wouldn’t have to face such internal conflict. But as a soldier of the Highserk Empire, it was pointless to ponder such things.

Four more years.

In four years, Walm could choose to be discharged. The soldiers started businesses with their wages and loot, bought land back home to settle down, continued as soldiers, or became adventurers. Too preoccupied with surviving, Walm had never thought about the future.

“Is it strange to think about oneself just after killing someone?” Walm wondered if he was abnormal for not mourning the wounded and dead like the adventurers who were full of rage and grief. The more skilled a soldier became, the more his humanity faded. Walm was aware of that.

Could he remain himself until he was discharged? The thought worried him. He sighed softly, wiped the blood from his longsword, and picked up his halberd. The forest was returning to silence.

◆

“Run, Leetia! Do you plan to die too?”

Fleck was carrying Al and Amy. Despite losing his right eye and being covered in countless cuts, he was the least injured in the party. He ran through the forest with the two on his back, knowing they were weighing him down heavily. But he couldn’t leave them – they were his only chance of survival.

“Everyone’s dying, Lefty is…”

“I know! Lefty’s fine. He always saves us.”

Fleck’s words barely masked the imminent danger, as the shouts of Highserk soldiers grew closer. Thankfully, the two soldiers who had severely wounded Fleck and Al weren’t pursuing. Lefty was risking his life as a decoy to let the remaining party members and a handful of Mayard soldiers escape.

Lefty might’ve come off as callous and quick to judge gain and loss, but Fleck knew him as a man who would risk his life to save those who could be saved.

“He’s going to be alright.”

Fleck reassured himself as he ran, blood flowing endlessly from the two on his back, their lives slipping away. Fleck’s blurred vision was driven by sheer willpower. He had to get them out of this alive.