The look of delight was unmistakeable, even on its rotted face. As an overwhelmingly superior slaughterer, it savored the despair and terror of the pitiful humans who could not even survive a single one of its blows.
Nobody dared attack, though they had swords in hand.
At first, they had tried an attack, though they were afraid. But even those blades which had made it past their foe's defense could not strike a telling blow through the Death Knight's armor.
In contrast, the Death Knight did not use its sword, but sent Londes flying with a shield bash, and it did so without using enough force to kill.
It was clearly toying with them, given the way it did not use its full strength. It was plain to see that the Death Knight wanted to enjoy the dying struggles of these humans.
The Death Knight only dealt fatal blows in earnest when the knights tried to escape.
The first knight to run was Ririk. He was a nice guy but a bad drunk. His limbs were chopped off, followed by his head.
After seeing the two deaths, the other knights knew the score, so they did not dare to flee.
Their attacks were ineffective, and they would be killed if they tried to run.
The only thing they could do was wait their turn to be tortured to death.
Although there was no way to see their faces below the full helms they wore, everyone present was keenly aware of their fate. The wails of grown men reduced to children echoed throughout the village. These men who had always oppressed the weak had not thought that one day, they would be on the receiving end of that treatment.
"Oh god, please save me…"
"Oh god…"
After hearing these cries for salvation, the strength left Londes's legs and he almost fell to his knees. He loudly cursed the gods — or was it a prayer to them?
"You, you lot, go hold that monster back!" a desperate knight shouted. He knew that his fate was sealed. His words sounded like an off-key psalm.
The man who spoke was standing next to the Death Knight. The way he was stumbling back on his tiptoes to back away from the corpse of his comrade was quite comical.
Londes frowned as he looked on that man in his pathetic state. It was hard to tell who had spoken those words because their closed helmets covered their faces and their voices were distorted by fear. Still, he knew that only one man would speak like that.
...Captain Belius.
Londes's frown deepened.
Overcome by his lewd desires, he had tried to rape a village girl and then sought help from others after he got into a fight with her father. After he was pulled off the other man, he vented his anger by stabbing the father with his sword. That was the kind of man he was. However, his family was quite wealthy in their country, and he had joined this unit because of his family's riches.
Everything had gone wrong because he had been made their leader.
"I'm not someone who should die here! All of you, hurry up and protect me! Be my shields!"
Nobody moved. He might have been appointed their leader, but he was not popular at all. Nobody would throw their lives away for a man like this.
However, the Death Knight responded to his shouting, and it slowly turned to face Belius.
"Aiiiiiieeeeee—!"
The only thing praiseworthy about him was that he could make so much noise while standing in front of the Death Knight.
Just as Londes began to respect this odd quality of Belius's, he heard the man shriek in terror:
"Money, I'll give you money! Two hundred gold pieces!! No, five hundred gold pieces!!!"
Those were considerable amounts he was talking about. However, right now, it was like telling them that he would pay them to jump off a five hundred meter cliff.
Although nobody responded, one person — no, half a person moved as though in reply to him.
"Uboooooarrr…"
The right half of the bisected corpse gripped Belius's ankles firmly. The bloody gargling from its mouth hardly sounded like words.
"—Ogyaaaaaahhhhh!!!!" Belius screamed in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. The onlooking knights and villagers were frozen in fear, their skin covered in goosebumps.
Squire Zombies.
In YGGDRASIL, creatures killed by the Death Knight would become undead of comparable power, haunting the place where they were killed. According to the game's rules, those damned souls who fell to the Death Knight's blade would become its slaves for all eternity.
Belius stopped screaming, and fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut, facing the sky. He must have passed out. The Death Knight drew closer to the defenseless man and stabbed its wavy-blade flamberge down.
Belius's body twitched, and—
"Gu-Guwaaaaaaargh!"
Woken by the incredible pain, Belius screamed, "Leh, leh me guh!!!!! Ah beggehg yeh!!!!!! Ah duh anythuh!!!!!!!"
Using both hands, Belius desperately grabbed the flamberge that had already penetrated his body, but the Death Knight paid his futile struggles no heed and worked the flamberge like a saw. His flesh and armor were cruelly torn open, and fresh blood flew everywhere.
"—Aah—eeeh—ah gib ya munni, leh, leh meh guh—"
Belius's body shuddered, and then he breathed his last. Only then was the Death Knight satisfied, and it stepped away from Belius's corpse.
"No… no… please, no…"
"Oh god!"
Their screams came from seeing the ghastly sight before them. If they ran, they would die swiftly, but if they stayed, they would die horribly. They knew that perfectly well, but still, they could not bring themselves to move.
"—Get a grip!"
Londes's shout tore through their wailing. The world was filled with silence, as though time was standing still.
"—Fall back! Sound the horn for the horsemen and archers to come here! The rest of you, do your best to buy some time for the hornblower! I'd rather not die like that, if you don't mind! Now move!"
Everyone moved in an instant.
There was no sign of their earlier panic. Everyone moved in silent unison, like a raging waterfall.
Their mechanical obedience to their orders without thinking created a miracle. There was no way they could move so immaculately again.
The knights each did what they were supposed to do. They had to protect the knight who would blow the horn and signal the others.
One of the soldiers who had taken several steps back lowered his sword and withdrew his horn from his bag.
"OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The Death Knight charged, as though reacting to the horn being taken out. Everyone was shocked. Could it be that the Death Knight wanted to destroy their means of escape so he could kill them to the last man?
The flood of darkness drew closer and closer, and everyone knew that stepping forward to try and stop it was certain death. However, the knights still climbed over each other to block the Death Knight one after the other. Their fear was wiped away by an even greater fear and they surged forward to become obstacles.
Every time its shield moved, a knight was smashed through the air.
Every time its blade flashed, a knight was cut in two.
"Dezun! Morett! Behead the fallen! Hurry, before they come back as monsters!"
The named knights hurriedly ran toward their murdered comrades.
The shield swung, and a knight was thrown into the air. His body was bisected by the flamberge.
Four men had lost their lives in the blink of an eye. Though Londes was still gripped with fear, he readied his sword against the coming of the jet-black storm, like a martyr preparing to give his life for his faith.
"Ohhhh!"
It might have been a meaningless gesture, but Londes did not intend to wait for death. Giving voice to a battlecry, he swung his sword with all his strength at the oncoming Death Knight.
Perhaps it was because of his circumstances, but Londes's muscles broke their limit and surprised him. It might have been the best blow Londes had ever struck in his life.
The Death Knight swung its flamberge as well.
In an instant, the world before Londes spun—
And he saw his decapitated corpse collapse to the ground, as his sword swung through thin air.
Just then, at that moment, the horn rang out—