The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset
Chapter 97

The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 97

97. Were You That Guy?

I always try not to lose my smile.

Even my silly jokes could be seen as constant practice in honing my sense of humor. But even a first-rate smiler like me, who prides himself on not losing his smile in any situation, had a hard time this time.

The blade that was raised for the salute.

The reflection of my face in the blade that covered half of my vision was not something that could be complimented, even with empty words. The saying that those who smile are the most beautiful suddenly came to mind. If that’s true, then I must be the ugliest cripple in the world right now.

I couldn’t help but sigh as I glanced at the head of the survivor that I had cut off myself. Still, it’s fortunate that there’s another head rolling on the ground with me. It’s a relief to have a friend to share my misery.

As I gasped in relief, I rolled my eyes and glared at the pagan invader I was facing. I’m talking about the guy with the cute forked beard.

That pagan bastard…

He had been watching my reaction ever since I appeared.

His searching gaze was so eerily similar to the guys I knew that it made me feel a little ill. I’m not saying that all pirates are similar just because they’re pirates.

It’s more like the way he’s watching me, as if he’s judging how I’m treating the survivors. No, it’s exactly the same. Maybe all invaders who plunder other people’s lives and property have evolved to be similar.

Thanks to him, I remembered something I had forgotten.

I finished the salute and adjusted my grip on the sword, allowing myself to savor an old memory for the first time in a long time.

The reason why the knights never won a single battle when I was king, and the reason why I despised them and yet still praised them as honorable.

[Y-your… Your Majesty. I, I can’t. I can’t do it…]

I couldn’t punish the people who ran to me begging for their lives.

Even if they had run to our allies who were facing the enemy head-on, there would have been no malice in it. To raise a sword against people who were simply brought out as a shield to buy time is something that only a madman would do.

Looking back now, the invaders fought in a mean but rational way. Their tactics were simple, straightforward, efficient, and annoying.

Hostages.

They used hostages made up of civilians and captured soldiers as shields to break the morale of our army and, while our offensive was frustrated, they surrounded us and annihilated us in a melee. The invaders made full use of the knights’ oath to protect the weak.

No matter how strong-willed or skilled a knight was, they were helpless against such tactics.

I almost lost like that on my first day of battle.

The wavering eyes of the soldiers who couldn’t bring themselves to stab me still linger by my side. It was a dire situation to behold as I lifted my eyelids, soaked in cold sweat.

People screaming for their lives and running and being driven out. Soldiers falling one by one, unable to do anything as they stood in front of them.

The invaders, who watched the formation crumble from afar, laughing savagely.

Defeat.

That was the moment when the words I had always uttered so casually finally reached me. On that day, I truly realized the weight of the word ‘defeat.’

“Out of my way.”

“Your Majesty?”

And then.

“I will do what must be done.”

…How heavy the words I had always uttered so casually turned out to be.

I took a step forward and spoke to the soldiers and knights behind me.

“He was an apostate.”

He is a criminal who deserves to die for sacrificing others to stay alive.

“He had a chance to repent through resistance, but he fled, so he should be interrogated.”

He has committed acts that are strictly forbidden by the church several times over and has no value left to live.

“You follow the starlight of Ince, the one who promised the temple of Narva, to kill those who should die and save those who should live. The mark of apostasy has already been placed upon him, so do not hesitate!”

You don’t need to bear the burden of guilt because fighting alone is hard.

With those final words, I no longer exhorted the soldiers.

If they are tender and pure enough to feel guilty even after this, then there is nothing I can do about it. Instead, I kicked off the ground with all my might and charged towards the pagan with the braided beard before me.

And I felt it. This guy is definitely a little different from the guys in the woods.

Clang!

The ax blade and the sword blade clashed, scraping against each other with a screech. Then, with a large circular motion, I deflected the ax, and the pagan bared his teeth and began to growl like a beast.

The moment I raised my arm reflexively to counter it.

Clank!

From Noble mtl dot com

With a loud noise, the gauntlet was dented. Although the shock was not fully transmitted, it was an absurd sight. I frowned at the sensation of my arm being squeezed and readjusted my grip on the sword.

“Don’t you have any teeth left?”

“Heh heh heh… Ugh, ah, ah, ah.”

“But if you hang on me like this with your mouth on my arm, you’re going to lose.”

“Ugh?”

Thud!

I had planned to knock him over with my weight, but when I lifted him up, he couldn’t do anything. Of course, he wasn’t completely helpless and tried to stop his frantic growling, but…

This time, I shoved my arm into his mouth instead.

“aaargh!”

“You’re using your teeth too carelessly for someone who doesn’t have dental insurance.”

Finally, even the pagan’s strong teeth couldn’t hold out, and they cracked with a sickening sound.

I plunged my sword into the pagan’s mouth as he bled profusely, ending his brief suffering. However, even though I had stabbed him, the sensation was strange. I definitely felt something off about the guy when I first met him.

I aimed for his heart, but it felt strangely lifelike…

Let’s cross the stone bridge and see.

I recalled this beautiful proverb, got up, and stomped on the pagan’s neck with my combat boots.

Crack!

“T-that’s too much…”

I heard the pale knight, Husten’s voice, but I didn’t have the luxury to appease him.

“Don’t let your guard down just because you’ve stabbed him. Think of it as killing him at least twice.”

“?”

…too similar.

I gripped the hilt of my sword tighter at the unpleasant realization.

***

It was only natural to hear the clang of swords amidst warriors who were plundering.

Because the only way for those who fought over their spoils was to duel. Sometimes they fought for better offerings, and sometimes they fought to get a slave to warm their beds.

Since it was a personal matter and directly related to one’s honor, the other warriors tended to keep quiet. Moreover, they had no reason to care about others when they had their own plundering to do.

The fight was over, and it was time to quench their thirst with the sweet fruits of victory.

As the warriors scattered one by one and wandered around, indulging themselves in plundering to relieve their tension, a warrior who had been clapping while circling the burning house suddenly turned his head at the sound of footsteps.

“Hmm? What?”

And the moment he realized the identity of the footsteps, his confident expression began to turn ashen with horror.

“Th, the Landstealer…”

At the same time, a sword light flashed.

The blade pierced his neck faster than he could finish speaking. Narba looked down at the warrior collapsing while clutching his spurting neck, and raised his left hand.

“Follow my actions without complaint. Advance.”

The soldiers and knights were already overwhelmed by Narba’s martial arts and ruthlessness.

They moved with weary faces but trust, following Narba, who was at the forefront. At that moment, Narba and his special forces were transformed into an organized killing machine.

Narba’s appearance was like a thunderbolt to the warriors who were scattered and drunk with victory.

“The Landstealer, now?!”

“Ugh…”

The warriors boasted overwhelming force against the militia, but that was only when they were united. If they were attacked without being able to form a proper formation, even warriors had their limits.

Moreover, the one leading the special forces was Narba, and he had eight knights under his command. Even if a slightly skilled warrior voiced and tried to buy time, it ended up as a meaningless attempt in front of them.

Warriors collapsed with a thud.

In the shadow of the ruins where their corpses were facing, a sharp-eyed woman slowly raised her head.

That moment.

Bam!

A fierce kick broke the warrior’s cervical vertebrae.

Narba, the owner of the combat boot, looked at the woman raising her head in the shadow and put his index finger over his lips.

“Shhh…”

“….”

“Shh.”

The woman’s eyes widened in shock. The woman covered her bursting sobs with both hands and shook her disheveled hair incessantly. Only then did Narba smile and lift his combat boot.

If the warriors’ slaughter until now had been thorough but crude, Narba’s slaughter unfolded with a mechanical neatness, like rolling cogwheels.

Narba would cut their necks or block the enemy’s attacks in the lead, and the other knights would cut their tendons or deflect their weapons.

The incapacitated warriors were then pushed into the soldiers’ shield wall that followed them and trampled mercilessly. Narba’s sword light replaced the soldiers’ boiling groans and angry shouts.

Hustan and the knights had no choice but to feel awe as they watched the scene from the closest spot.

‘Black shoulder mantle. A symbol that the Holy See grants only to those with exceptional martial arts skills among its close aides.’

‘That is…’

Is that the skill of one who vowed to protect humanity?

Narba and the special forces slaughtered the warriors like that for a long time. Soon, when their number exceeded several hundred, Narba, who had been leading the charge, suddenly stopped.

The ruins were burning and collapsing.

Under the flowing river’s gurgle, a village where groans and screams were buried.

Before the alley where corpses were scattered, a warrior with a large physique and a kind smile blocked Narba’s way, the warrior chief Hart.

“My, oh my. I never would have guessed…”

“….”

“There really are warriors among these farmers!”

Thud!

The sound of an ax handle slamming into the ground was a kind of signal.

The unique boisterousness that had been sweeping through the entirety of Coveville slowly began to subside. Warrior Chief Hart raised his giant ax and smiled with a competitive spirit.

“Now, warrior! I shall ask for your name…”

And before he could finish speaking, Narba readjusted his stance.

-To a perfect fencing posture.

BANG!!!!

It was a fearsome momentum, so much that one could almost mistake it for a sound that wasn’t actually there. The moment they saw the sturdy Hart bounce back and collapse, the warriors standing nearby and the soldiers who had followed them all dropped their jaws.

Some of the soldiers even completely forgot the order not to open their mouths.

“Di, did we get him?”

“No!”

And the one who destroyed the hopeful anticipation before anyone else was Narba.

“Raise your shields, never stab first!!!”

“Wh, what…”

It was a side of him they had never seen before.

Narba had shed every bit of playfulness and was shouting desperately, with a serious attitude. The completely different, serious attitude rather left his allies unable to continue speaking, bewildered.

The moment the special forces unit looked at each other, wondering what was going on, Husten opened his mouth blankly.

“…He rose.”

“What?”

“He’s standing!”

“What’s that…”

Like an idiot.

The knights’ retort was swallowed before it could pass their throats.

Thud.

Hart, who had clearly been hit by the fencing sword and bounced away, was shaking his neck and getting up. They opened their eyes wide, wondering if he had somehow dodged it at that moment, but the result was even more shocking.

Hart was blankly looking down at the sword stuck in his abdomen.

He scrunched up his face for a long time as if scratching his cheek with his index finger, then licked the drop of blood oozing out over the slightly split gap with his index finger.

Lick.

“Well, well.”

He wasn’t satisfied with just smelling the blood, he even tasted it.

“…This is the first time I’ve seen a farmer who knows the protection of the war god.”

He began to glare at Narba as he calmly pulled the sword out of his stomach.