The double life of a count’s bastard

Chapter 29

“This fight is won or lost by that old man!

I saw it.

I don’t know about the others, but the mercenary captain, Malay, watched Sir Coach more closely than anyone else.

A sense of urgency.

His years of mercenary experience and instincts naturally pointed to the seemingly unremarkable old knight as a danger.

And so it was.

With a single swing of his sword, he sent not one, not two, but five of Sahrtan’s servants flying.

The sight of the sword’s clean, uncluttered trajectory gave him goosebumps, and he had to swallow hard.

In his honest heart.

‘I don’t want to fight, but…….’

The situation was such that he knew he had to take down the old knight somehow if only to increase his chances of survival.

“Smith! Pineta! Sam! Omar! Larkman!”

Malay quickly gathered the strongest men in the mercenary army.

They were all fifth-ranked knights and mercenaries of equal skill and had spent enough time with him that they knew what each other wanted with just a glance.

“Servants of Sachtran, are they?”

At the sight of the mercenaries casually surrounding him, Lord Kochi didn’t blink an eye.

On the contrary.

“Mu, what kind of pressure……!!!

The momentum emanating from Lord Kochi’s entire body began to press heavily on the air around him, causing the mercenaries’ throats to gag.

‘You can’t be…… sixth rank?!’

Fifth- and sixth-ranked knights are completely different beings.

For example, a few years ago, during the Krasler Empire’s founding festivities, a battle between the Imperial Guard and the Knights of the Capital Defense took place due to the Emperor’s whim.

At the time, the Imperial Guard fielded a single rank 6 knight, while the Capital Defense Knights fielded 50 rank 5 knights.

The result was a lopsided victory.

The Imperial Guard Knight had single-handedly defeated fifty Knights of the Capital Defense.

It was a shocking result that no one had expected, but the Guard Knight who had fought in the duel had been called a genius and had been nominated to become the next head of the Guard Knights, so he was considered to be a world apart from the ordinary sixth-ranked Knights.

However, it was clear that the gap between a fifth-ranked knight and a sixth-ranked knight was far too wide to be easily predicted.

What if the old knight in front of you is a sixth-grade knight?

‘Today…… I’m not sure of my life.’

Malay believed that they should have more people surrounding the noh knight.

‘If my men are in trouble, I won’t be able to call on my spare time as I can now, and I’m getting older, so if I’m relentless in that area…….

It’s worth a shot.

Even if he was a sixth-ranked knight, it was clear that the weight of his years, the pressure of protecting his peers, and his impatience would prevent him from performing to his full potential.

“We just have to hold on!

Malay gestured to the mercenaries surrounding the old knight, giving them the plan.

Pretend, pretend.

The mercenaries all nodded, looking more serious than ever, and began pressuring the old knight and Sir Coach.

The mercenaries looked as serious as ever, and Sir Coach, like a veteran, recognized what they were aiming for.

“They seem to think they can win by holding me down. Well, it’s a good plan, but…….”

Sir Coach’s eyes, clouded over by his words, spat out another intense glow.

“Pineta!!!”

Mali shouted, barely able to follow the trajectory of Sir Coach’s sword as he swung it at a speed his eyes could barely follow.

The end of the sword’s trajectory was at the throat of Fineta, who stood to his right.

Ka-aaaang!!!

“Kwap!!!”

I blocked.

But a little too late.

He still lived.

Pineta couldn’t see for sure how the sword had been swung, but at the Malay’s cry, he instinctively raised his sword and jerked his upper body back.

Barely, the tip of Lord Coach’s sword grazed her throat.

The flesh gaped open and blood trickled down, but it was far from a serious wound, and Pineta jerked back.

“Damn it! Damn old man!”

“Don’t rush him, just keep your movements in check!”

“Sam! Block the left!”

“Omar! Take a step back and keep a gap!”

The rest of the mercenaries swung their weapons at Lord Coach as the nearly-dead Pineta stepped back and tourniqueted his neck.

“Bam! This is why mercenaries have no sense of style, all they know how to do is charge en masse like a pack of dogs and thrust their weapons at you. They’ve only been taught to fight, not to fight.”

Sir Coach, a knight all his life, frowned at the way the mercenaries fought, with no sense of discipline, no organized strategy, no so-called ‘angle.

“If you’re bothering me, let’s all go at once…….

Not one to fight like a pack of dogs, Lord Coach contemplated swiftly wiping out the mercenaries, but then his eyes lit up as he saw the others fighting.

Rousseau and Jason were fighting on either side of him, with Merlin in the center, but it was Hans up front who caught Ser Couch’s attention.

‘What you’re doing is unchivalrous…… but at least you can wield a sword!

Not just a compliment, but an extraordinary compliment!

If Earl Slater’s knights had heard Sir Coach’s thoughts, they would have narrowed their eyes and studied Hans once more.

‘He’s a priest of Nevatera, so he won’t die easily. Let’s see how long he holds out, shall we?

With a twinkle in his eye, like a child discovering a new toy after a long time, Lord Couch casually swung his sword at the mercenaries who were struggling to bind his feet.

* * *

With Rosita being a priestess of Sahrtan, it was to be expected that the Order she led would also be deeply involved.

Except.

‘I didn’t realize that all the members of the Order were servants of Satan.

Honestly, even like Rousseau, I was a bit taken aback, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Two things make Sahrtan’s servants terrifying.

Their ability to more than double their physical abilities through certain tattoos, and their fearless, frenzied way of fighting.

However, their enhancements were only by normal human standards, so they didn’t pose much of a threat to Rousseau.

“Just a bunch of heads, like a pack of dogs.

Sometimes numbers can make the difference between victory and defeat, but 30 men are no match for Rousseau’s current group.

That’s because of one man.

Sir Coach, a sixth-ranked knight.

Lord Coach was a man who could hold his own against dozens of fifth-ranked knights, so Rousseau was not worried about this battle at all.

But what?

“What are you doing?”

He scratched at the man’s robes in a futile attempt to get him to do his job, but Sir Coach, whom he had trusted for this situation, was not doing his job.

He was surrounded by a half-dozen mercenaries, unable to escape.

“Am I mistaken……?

Rousseau shook his head in disbelief.

The way he’d blown the heads off five of Sahrtan’s servants in one fell swoop had confirmed that he was no weakling.

But why?

It was Lord Couch who should have sliced through six or seven of those mercenaries with a single blow and cleared up the situation…….

“Is that old man getting senile?!

Rousseau’s eyes sparked as he caught sight of the sword swinging wildly.

Rousseau’s eyes lit up as he caught sight of the old man swinging his sword.

“What else is he doing that you don’t like?

Rousseau’s stomach churned as he fought off the mercenaries swinging their swords at him, still glaring at Sir Coach out of the corner of his eye.

Time is running out.

He didn’t know about anyone else, but Rousseau wanted to end this battle quickly, as the time limit on the Excalaeon was getting shorter and shorter.

‘What the hell?

“What the hell are you smirking at…… Hans?

Despite facing six mercenaries, Sir Coach’s gaze never left Hans.

There were small exclamations of admiration, light clicks of the tongue, nods, and smirks.

“Are you kidding me? You’re watching him play?

It was ridiculous.

Someone was fighting for his life (though, thanks to Merlin, he wasn’t even seriously injured, let alone killed), and someone else was leisurely watching.

But to his surprise, Rousseau, who had followed the coach’s gaze, found himself increasingly fascinated by Hans’s skill.

Hans was a genius, a genius of geniuses, and Rousseau knew it best.

He’d seen it firsthand in countless bloody, flesh-splattered, bone-breaking duels.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Hans was facing four opponents who were classically his equal, and he was no pushover.

Of course, some variables are working in Hans’ favor.

Chain Lightning’s damage was still in effect, so he wasn’t able to perform as well as he normally would.

Even so, it was still surprising that Hans was able to hold his own against four opponents of his class.

What’s even more surprising is.

“……What the hell is that guy?”

It’s starting to become clear that Hans is getting better with practice.

* * *

Bam!

He raised his sword at an angle to block the downward slash aimed at his collarbone, then immediately twisted his upper body.

Suk-!

As the blade that had entered through the space slashed past the place where his upper body had been, Hans slammed his right side with his shoulder.

Pfft!

The knight who had raised his sword above his head let out a loud ‘thud’ and staggered back, and Hans’ sword sliced through his waist like a thunderbolt.

Kagagak!

The armor prevented him from inflicting as much damage as he’d hoped, but the quick gash of blood served his purpose.

Barely able to contain the smile on his face, Hans lowered his head and raised his sword upside down.

Kaang!!!

Hans’ brow furrowed slightly at the force that made his wrist throb, but he kept his lower body firmly planted on the ground and thrust his upper body to knock his opponent off.

With two quick breaths, he swung his sword left and right, and sparks flew as steel clashed with steel.

“Whoosh!”

Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Hans looked up at his opponents, who stared back at him, their faces as rigid as stone.

“This is more fun than I thought it would be. Right?”

His opponents merely scrunched up their faces at the thought of Hans having fun in a life-or-death battle.

It’s a one-on-four match, and all four of them are rank-five knights and mercenaries of equivalent skill.

His opponent, on the other hand, is a knight who hasn’t yet grown out of his blue-blooded youth.

It was a fight that didn’t make sense from the start…… but surprisingly, unlike the four knights, who were all suffering from wounds large and small, the young knight was completely unharmed.

What’s even more surprising is that the knight is much harder to deal with now than it was at the beginning of the fight.

Was it the damage of the Chain Lightning spell?

No.

It was because the knight was smiling at them, his sword becoming sharper and sharper, his movements more lighthearted and fluid.

Was he relaxed?

Maybe, but…….

‘That bastard is fighting like he’s training against us!

‘Damn him, that little brat!’

My anger was rising, but more frustrating was the fact that I couldn’t do anything about the kid in front of me.

“How long are you going to have a snowball fight? If you don’t come in, I’ll come in, and if I do this time…… one of you can’t stand on your own two feet?”

“Cheeky!”

“You don’t know the world is scary!”

“Don’t talk long, just kill him!”

The grin on Hans’ face deepened as he looked at his opponents, who were now lunging at him in response to his words.

He swung his sword with a sense of urgency and extreme tension as if he could die at any moment.

He’d done it countless times.

Hans had endured a life so hellish that he could never survive without swinging his sword.

Hans raised his blade to face the four cold, flesh-colored swords aimed at him.

“Yes, this is what it tastes like. This is what it’s like to be…… alive.”

Hans’s expression grew more ghastly than ever as he stared at the dark flesh.