Chapter 86. Consecrator of the Beast Hide (2)

I have no hobby of being led around by the enemy's voice.

It's not good for tactics, and certainly not for the morale of our troops.

However, if the opponent's proposal aligns with our intentions, the story changes a little.

The chieftain of the beastmen, Grok-Tau, proposed a duel.

A duel, regardless of victory or defeat, takes time.

In fact, the key to this operation is time.

We need to buy time.

Until the card I've prepared for this fight is ready to be played from my hand.

And above all.

“I’ll be back after tearing apart three beasts in no time.”

We have an invincible warrior on our side.

“Don’t win too quickly. Stall for enough time.”

“Hmph, understood.”

I led about half of the troops and revealed ourselves in the clearing.

The other half was hidden in the forest.

Of course, given the beastmen's developed senses of hearing and smell, they would surely know.

Still, the rain that had been pouring for days would hinder them from grasping our exact numbers and deployment.

The fact that there are more of us than meets the eye would in itself apply silent pressure, and

“Human Warchief! Do you accept the challenge!”

“Yes.”

Of course, we weren’t the only ones hiding our cards in the bushes.

On the other side of the clearing, behind the group of beastmen.

An ominous shadow was wriggling deep within the forest.

If you looked a little closer, you could easily see that the shadow was made of tree trunks, vines, and leaves.

A ‘fortress’.

One that was alive, moving, and growing.

“Choose three! Send one out first!”

The Consecrator of the Beast Hide, Grok-Tau.

He has a trait called [Wild Consecrator].

It’s not an insane trait that buffs the entire battlefield like the [Chosen of the Moon] possessed by his fellow hero, the ‘Beastpriest of the Full Moon,’ but that one too is a tricky ability to deal with if left alone.

Because a fortress completed in exchange for labor and sacrifices is truly worthy of the word impregnable.

A fortress where living vines ensnare intruders.

Where leaves defend against projectiles.

Where thorned seeds are scattered upon the enemy while the ground is shaken by roots from below.

‘Master, it’s just a bunch of grass. If you have enough firepower, you can more than burn it down.’

‘Tick-tock!!’

Kkumteuli’s argument wasn't wrong either.

Except for the fact that the standard for ‘sufficient firepower’ is extremely high.

To bring down a completed fortress, an artillery corps of at least a brigade's scale is needed.

Or a high-ranking mage who can freely spam high-power spells of 7th-level or higher.

“Viscount, I’ll be going.”

The interesting thing is that the reason Grok-Tau requested a duel is also because of that fortress.

Seeing it in person makes it certain.

The fortress is not yet complete.

It would require many sacrifices and a lot of labor to finish the half-built fortress.

It means he is reluctant to suffer losses in this fight.

“Battalion Commander Randal!”

“Go beat the crap out of those beast bastards!”

Of course, another basis for his confidence would be the fact that in one-on-one fights, beastmen usually overwhelm humans.

We are human, but on their side, at least something like a Minotaur would come out.

“That goat-like… what… huh?”

“What is that……?”

Thump. Thump.

The soldiers' cheers subsided.

A Minotaur really did come out.

Four meters tall.

The head of a bull and the body of a giant.

Crudely woven metal armor worn over muscles that looked ready to burst.

Moreover, it wasn't just any Minotaur.

It was an elite fighter with four horns.

A 5th-level unit, a superior version of the Minotaur warrior.

The beast opened its maw.

Uwoooooo-!!!

The already bursting muscles swelled even tighter.

The beast, holding an axe the size of an adult man in each hand, snorted.

For me, the Minotaur is one of the main subjects of my nightmares.

It’s not because I’m afraid of them.

It’s because of the dead soldiers.

I once told Karen.

That I have nightmares too.

In fact, I have them almost every night.

One of the main repertoires is the scene from the battle in Gunterburk's square, where soldiers were torn to shreds by the Minotaur's axe and fists.

In reality, before the Princess of Blood intervened that day, half of the one hundred Imperial soldiers who followed me had died.

Thump-! Thump-!

The snorting Minotaur began to run.

The distance was fifty meters.

It was as if a freight truck was charging to run over a person.

Although Randal's height and build are about two heads taller than others, in front of the Minotaur, he was no different from a dwarf.

“Gasp…!”

“B-Battalion Commander!”

While some soldiers gasped, Randal stood askew, one hand on his belt, watching the Minotaur.

Thirty meters.

The bull lowered its head, leading with its horns.

Twenty meters.

For the first time, Randal moved.

The hand that was on his belt blurred.

And-

Craaaack-!!

A fountain of blood spurted in all directions.

Thud…!

The Minotaur Elite Fighter pitched forward.

The beast rolled on the ground a few times like a thrown doll and came to a stop.

The clearing fell silent.

Half of the bull's head was gone.

Randal leisurely walked over and rummaged through the pulped head.

What he pulled out was a blood-soaked axe.

The very axe he had thrown at me before.

“……”

After wiping the blood on his clothes, he said.

“Next.”

***

[[Warrior’s Binding] is deployed.]

[The slain enemy has been bound.]

[Minotaur Elite Fighter (1)]

***

In life, you can see people become wretched countless times.

But how many chances do you get to see a beast become wretched?

“Wait! Just a moment! Wasn't that a spell just now! A spell in a duel between warriors!”

“……”

“Even if it wasn't a spell… right, it’s one-on-one! Since there are three, each one must face an opponent! You! Great warrior! Your turn is over! Go back inside!”

“……”

Grok-Tau.

Was he this kind of character?

I knew he had the [Distorted Conscience] trait, but.

How should I put it?

Seeing a beast-faced beastman become wretched like a human, should I say it's a new experience?

“Shouldn't we give the next warrior a chance! Hurry and go back!”

“……”

Randal looked back at me.

His eyes asked, ‘Shall I split him with my axe?’

I shook my head.

I beckoned for him to come back.

I accepted this duel to buy time in the first place.

If we end it in one blow like that, the plan will go awry.

As I'm watching with [Battlefield-Overlooking Gaze], the rangers I sent earlier have not yet arrived to deliver my orders.

It's not like Randal is the only hero who can step up to the challenge.

“I will go.”

Olif stepped forward.

Squeezing the water from his drenched white hair, he drew his sword and walked forward.

The opponent had not yet emerged.

He must be pondering.

After all, he saw the Minotaur Elite Fighter, whom he had put forward as his first contender, fall in one blow.

As I was quietly watching the beastmen murmuring with beastly cries, old man Brol scratched his bandit-like beard and said.

“Isn’t that guy a complete human scoundrel?”

“Human?”

“I know a few guys who are swindlers at gambling dens. They act all confident, but when things go wrong, they backpedal. Looking at his actions, he’s a spitting image.”

“Old man… you had friends like that?”

Karen, who had been listening quietly, chimed in.

Old man Brol waved his hands dismissively.

“N-No. They’re just guys I happened to get to know. I’m not saying we’re close.”

“…Right.”

“Phew, anyway, doesn’t that guy look human-like too? As if he’s wearing a beast mask.”

It’s understandable to think so.

Grok-Tau’s moniker, the Consecrator of the Beast Hide, wasn't created for nothing.

The skull of the beast, which has a deformity, has a somewhat receded lower jaw and a grotesquely protruding upper jaw and front.

As if a person is wearing an ill-fitting, exaggerated beast mask.

Of course, his backward-jointed legs and six fingers are unmistakably beastmen.

Karen summarized.

“Mutations are common among beastmen.”

As it happens, the next contender is also a mutant.

A Centaur Marauder.

That half-man, half-horse monster had three arms.

The beast carried a container full of javelins on its side.

Walking out slowly, the beast pulled out a spear.

Olif raised his sword.

The javelin flew.

The knight shot forward.

Clang! Clang! Crack-!

[[Warrior’s Binding] is deployed.]

[The slain enemy has been bound.]

[Centaur Marauder (1)]

“Wh-What was that just now?”

Old man Brol’s jaw dropped.

Looking only at the result, the horse-man had become a horse/man.

With one large step, he cut the javelin.

With another step, he parried the throwing axe, the real trick, that the Centaur had hidden behind its back and thrown with its second right arm.

And with the final step, he split the half-man, half-horse's waist with an aura that extended his blade to about twice its length.

“Could you see that?”

Anyway, it was truly a fight decided in an instant.

Olif, catching his breath, slowly retreated while keeping an eye on the beastmen.

To be honest, we still need a little more time.

Still, this much should be fine.

Looking at the dazed Warchief, I gave a slight nod.

“Isn't it over if we win two rounds first?”

“No! It’s until one is left standing.”

“?”

“They fight once each, and then the remaining warriors fight again! How about it? Human Warchief, will you give up the fight now and surrender?”

“……”

‘Master, I don’t think this is the kind of beastman I know. Isn’t that level of shamelessness in the realm of talent?’

I agree.

***

“Please be careful, Your Lordship.”

“I will.”

The final contenders from both sides were the commanders.

I checked my equipment out of habit and stepped forward.

Sword. Staff. Dagger at my waist. Potion in my breast pocket. Tighten the armor straps and retie the robe.

In the subspace, a skull staff, smoke bombs, and Kkumteuli are ready to be drawn at any moment.

For reference, the smoke bombs were items I asked William to make.

His skill in handling gunpowder was beyond what I had seen in Gunterburk.

He could not only set simple explosives or connect fuses but also handle the composition and manufacturing of the gunpowder itself.

This operation, too, would not have been possible without him.

As I was finishing a simple equipment check, Randal placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Viscount Ash, don't think too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let your heart, not your head, wield the sword. Your movements don't seem as stiff anymore.”

I don't know.

I still don't understand.

But for some reason, I felt a sense of knowing.

A strange, ticklish feeling in my chest.

The feeling I had occasionally recalled since sparring with Randal in the Imperial Capital.

When I nodded, he smirked and patted my back once.

“……”

With cheers at my back, I stepped into the clearing.

“Your Lordship, go knock him down!”

“Viscount Ash! Viscount Ash!”

“The Hero of Wolfskrig!”

“The Finisher of the Civil War!”

The contender from the other side was also the commander.

The Consecrator of the Beast Hide, Grok-Tau.

He is a Minotaur.

Holding a staff and an axe, wearing a crude helmet with holes drilled for his horns, he approached me.

It's unexpected.

I was planning to step up from the beginning, but I thought he would send out another subordinate.

The pettiness he had shown so far was of that kind.

What is he thinking?

Is it confidence that he can kill me and defeat Olif and Randal?

Or does he have some other ulterior motive?

“Human Warchief, I will give you one last chance. Will you surrender?”

It probably doesn't matter.

There's only one outcome anyway.

Kill him and destroy the half-finished fortress.

Drive the beastmen out of this forest, secure the safety of the fief, and secure the most crucial resource for my fief development plan.

[[Holy Aura] is deployed.]

[[Imperial Knight Swordsmanship] is deployed.]

I raised my sword.

He grinned.

At that moment, the ground shook.

I instinctively looked behind him, at the forest behind the beastmen army.

The forest was moving.

“Human Warchief, you have fallen into a trap yourself.”

Rumble rumble rumble…!!

The forest moves.

The trees. The vines. The roots. The leaves and stems.

Giant roots dig into the ground, vines sway like tentacles, and the middle of a tree splits open, revealing thorns packed tightly like teeth.

It is a living fortress made of twisted plants, created with [Wild Consecrator].

Did he plan to forcibly move it even in its half-completed state?

I can hear the sound of soldiers assuming battle stances behind me.

I didn't turn my head.

Because right in front of me is one of the legendary heroes of the beastmen.

Grok-Tau's jet-black eyes shone triumphantly under his helmet.

“I know you. A Warchief who uses sorcery.”

“You do?”

“You defeated Rishubak in Gunterburk. Your spells might burn my fortress. But not your warriors. Can they withstand the wrath of the forest with a single sword?”

The beast's mouth gaped open.

“My victory, having tied you down… hmm?”

The beast raised its head.

His ears perked up.

Did he hear it?

It seems the beastmen's senses are indeed excellent.

[The Mortar Squad deploys [Suppressive Fire].]

To think he heard the sound of cannon fire that even I, with the [Sensitive Ears] trait, couldn't hear, buried by the distance and the sound of rain.