Balmung explosively charged at the man standing in the rear guard.

― Kaang!-

The sound of metal colliding echoed out.

At the same time, Balmung’s brow furrowed. His strike had been blocked far more easily than he expected.

Sparks flew as Balmung’s scythe and the opponent’s sword slid against each other.

[… So there’s a warrior besides Hrung-ga who can block my attack.]

Balmung quickly revised his assessment of his opponent.

His plan had been to immediately cut down the man in the front and then charge at Hrung-ga right away.

That he was stopped at this very point was not in his calculations.

At this moment, Balmung instinctively sensed that his opponent was someone who could never be underestimated.

The weapon Balmung wielded was a scythe.

The mere fact that his opponent could so effortlessly block such a huge scythe—one he likely had little experience facing—gave Balmung a sense of the man’s skill.

[You all have a tendency to underestimate these people.]

Hrung-ga showed a sardonic smile from the rear.

After giving Hrung-ga a sharp glance, Balmung once again unleashed a flurry of attacks at the man before him.

― Kakang! Kang!-

The razor sharp scythe lashed out in an incomprehensible trajectory, coming at the opponent like a whip.

However, the opponent consistently twisted his sword, easily parrying Balmung’s assaults.

What’s more, the calm expression the man wore even as he parried the attacks began to make Balmung anxious.

‘… Why?’

Balmung felt an odd sense of discomfort.

It seemed his opponent had no intention of suffering even the slightest scratch from this scythe.

― Kwaaang!-

A powerful blow pushed the opponent back. Overcome by emotion, Balmung had put excessive power into his scythe.

However, the opponent—though pushed back—did not lose his posture in the slightest, simply pointing his sword at Balmung again.

It was defense as unyielding as a mountain—so sturdy that it could only be called unbreakable.

Balmung bit his lip quietly. Was it possible the man knew something?

‘Does he know about my ability?’

Balmung quickly shook off the thought.

It couldn’t be.

While Balmung’s ability was tricky, almost nothing about it was known.

Even among the barbarians of Ungrim’s camp, there were few who knew what kind of ability Balmung possessed.

And yet, his opponent maintained an ironclad defense as though refusing to be even slightly wounded by Balmung.

It didn’t even look like he had any intention to attack.

To attack is, by necessity, to forsake defense—if only a little—so as to succeed.

That’s why Balmung’s favorite strategy was to show the barest of openings, luring the enemy attack into them.

Whenever attacks were exchanged in that manner, Balmung’s position would rapidly improve.

[… Hmm?]

Balmung sensed that Hrung-ga and the other enemy group had moved away.

They were gradually backing off, widening the gap between themselves and Balmung.

As if luring them away.

Soon, Ungrim’s subordinate barbarians quickly gathered around Balmung, having leapt in his direction.

With agitated voices, they raised their weapons and shouted.

[… Attack them!]

Yet in that instant—

[Wait.]

Balmung quickly halted them.

The enemy intentions appeared highly suspect.

He carefully gauged the distance between himself and the enemies, as well as the distance to the dead.

‘… Is this a ploy to lure us away?’

Balmung quickly saw through their intentions.

They seemed to be trying to tempt him and the others away from the dead.

If there was an ambush waiting where they were being led, it would place Balmung—and all the barbarians following him—in grave danger.

But after a quick look around, Balmung let out a short laugh.

In the direction he gazed, he could see the enemy main force huddled together, not far from the dead.

‘No ambush. The enemy’s main force seems intent on attacking the dead.’

Balmung gripped his scythe again.

His contemplation lasted only for a moment. He instantly grasped the enemy commander’s intent.

The enemy’s main force would attack the dead, while this detachment lured his group away.

In the end, it was an attempt at a pincer attack. Balmung was not so dense as to miss this.

Noticing all this, Balmung charged the enemy once more.

― Kaaaang!-

With sparks flying at once, Balmung’s even fiercer barrage drove his opponent back.

But again, the man retreated, maintaining his defense. Balmung then shouted toward Hrung-ga.

[So you’re trying to lure us out, Hrung-ga! Such a petty warrior!]

Even as he said this, Balmung had to admit it wasn’t a bad strategy.

However, he was quite willing to allow himself to be lured.

More than that, the enemy seemed to have severely underestimated the dead.

‘… That black monster cannot be defeated. Not even Ungrim himself could.’

Ultimately, the enemy’s strategy would only lead to the destruction of their main force.

So all Balmung had to do was deal with the foe before him.

But that wasn’t all that Balmung was after. He harbored a strange sense of rivalry toward Hrung-ga.

‘Guardian Warrior.’

The highest honor a barbarian warrior could aspire to.

But not a single one among Ungrim’s camp was a former guardian warrior.

They were those who attended the Goddess and acted according to her will.

Yet Ungrim’s barbarians had forsaken the Goddess for the sake of a new cause.

Thus, to defeat a guardian warrior—the symbol of the old era of Goddess worship—presented a good opportunity.

It wasn’t merely about eliminating a guardian warrior; it would serve as a warning to those who still clung to the outdated Goddess.

And the chance to face Hrung-ga, unimpeded by enemy interference? That alone was reason enough to let himself be lured.

Thus, as Balmung and his barbarians were rapidly vanishing from before the dead—

The man who had been defensively receiving Balmung’s attacks—Barnes—curved his lips into a quiet smile.

*

From his hiding place atop a rounded ridge, Mikhail quietly spoke as he observed the situation.

“… It’s gone as you planned. The enemy fell for your lure.”

“They couldn’t help but fall for it.”

“What is it—’unfailing honor’ or something like that?”

Erich quietly shook his head. As he tightened the leather strap on his sword, he replied to Mikhail.

“Even so, Hrung-ga is iconic among the barbarians. I imagine Balmung would want to defeat him as the greatest warrior of Ungrim’s camp.”

“… So it’s symbolic?”

“Something like that. It’ll work as propaganda, too. In that sense, Hrung-ga is the perfect bait for them.”

“So, can Hrung-ga actually win? He doesn’t look like much to me.”

“That’s… hard to say.”

― Click.

Erich sheathed his sword, falling momentarily into thought.

Even if it was all part of the plan, could Hrung-ga really defeat Balmung?

‘If it came down to skill alone, Hrung-ga would be overwhelming…’

But Balmung had something beyond mere skill.

An uncommonly cold-headed judgment—something quite rare among the barbarians.

On top of that, a troublesome ability.

‘Especially that ability.’

If he used that ability, he could likely take down opponents with much greater skill than his own.

In the previous timeline, when Mikhail had died to Ungrim, Balmung’s ability had played a key role.

But that future was gone now.

‘There just weren’t many people back then who could handle guys like that, so Master had to face them all.’

But now, things were different.

There were several people here besides Mikhail who could stand against Balmung.

Even leaving Hrung-ga aside, Barnes alone could stall his attacks.

What’s more, Ungrim wasn’t present, so getting rid of Balmung—the greatest threat here—first was a huge advantage.

‘In the end, what matters now is whether or not we can defeat the Death Lord.’

Erich slowly climbed onto the top of the ridge and stared at the dead.

At that moment, they all turned white eyes toward him, emanating killing intent.

But among them, the loftiest presence—the ‘Death Lord’—had a subdued, almost indifferent air, as though he already knew Erich was there—nearly to the point of boredom.

The creature’s eyes glowed white, but in those pitch-black pupils, there was a depth of terror that seemed to pull one into the abyss.

Erich quietly averted his gaze from him, nodding toward Mikhail.

Then, the members in the rear, together with Ceres, stepped forward in unison.

Light shimmered from all around. Ceres and the mages had cast protective magic that enveloped all the members.

At the very least, this magic would shield everyone present from the ‘frost’ territory pressing in from afar.

Erich offered one more reminder to them.

“For now, don’t go on the offensive. We just need to reduce their numbers as defensively as possible.”

“Yes!”

The members’ voices rang out loud and clear, and the echo that struck the sheer cliffs of Haratakan rebounded back grandly.

Erich nodded resolutely at them.

And then—

― Pah!-

In an instant, Erich and Mikhail darted out from among their ranks like arrows.

At the end of their assault path, death knights and necromancers radiated an intense killing intent.

Their murderous intent locked sharply onto Erich, tightening as if ready to attack him at any moment.

But as crimson light flashed in his eyes, the strings of killing intent suddenly snapped.

― Kwagagagagagak!-

A powerful slash split the space between Erich and the enemies. Several were struck directly and split clean in half.

Mikhail had unleashed his power at nearly full output.

― Chaaak!-

At once, Erich stormed into the dead’s ranks, charging straight for the Death Lord.

‘First… I need to gauge the Death Lord’s skill.’

Up until Erich was almost in front of him, the Death Lord didn’t move quickly.

He simply rested his hand slowly on his massive greatsword.

The blade in Erich’s hand radiated golden brilliance.

A golden line sliced through the air as a wave of sword energy cut toward the Death Lord.

― Kwaaaang!-

A powerful shockwave spread out in all directions. The snow piled about vaporized instantly, spewing steam and smoke.

― Tstsutsu-

Within the blast, the skin of the nearby dead melted, releasing a foul odor.

But Erich did not press forward, instantly creating distance between himself and the creature.

Then—

― Kwaaang!-

Right along the path Erich would have taken had he pressed forward, a massive explosion resounded.

Out from the smoke emerged black chains, writhing with the energy of corrosion, their terrifying shapes revealed.

Erich curved his lips into a quiet smile. The Death Lord—certainly not an easy opponent.

Even Erich’s aura had failed to injure him in the slightest; instead, he had counterattacked.

Realizing he had failed to land a hit, the Death Lord’s lips twisted.

Whatever he was muttering, it seemed he was finally taking an interest, judging by the shift in his expression.

― Chrrrrk-

With that change, waves of corrupting energy spread out, melting not just the ground but even the rocks revealed as the snow receded.

Soon, the black chains writhed like serpents in every direction.

At this moment, Erich recalled memories of the Death Lord from before his previous regression—the terror, and the faces of comrades who had fallen beside him.

But—

A faint smile touched Erich’s lips.

Though even in the past he had never soloed the Death Lord, it was Erich himself—after so many sacrifices—who had ultimately severed the Death Lord’s head.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep