The Indomitable Martial King

“Huh?”

After scrutinizing something, he suddenly called out to Bright.

“Captain Bright! An elf female is running this way!”

An elf! Moreover, a female! Bright turned his head in surprise, his eyes twinkling brightly.

“Wow! A fully grown female!”

From across the desert, a platinum-haired elf girl was sprinting towards them. She wasn’t quite a mature woman, but she had clearly passed puberty, enough to fetch a good price. It was evident why she was running towards them; she was holding a sword, seemingly charging to save her kin.

A scoff escaped him. Could she really be thinking of taking them on alone, despite the clear power disparity? Elves really were foolish wild creatures.

Drawing his sword, Bright exclaimed with excitement.

“Boys! A pouch of gold coins is running our way! Get ready to catch it!”

His legs pounded the sands, his eyes clearly viewing the figures beyond the sands.

Her kinsfolk, tied up like cattle or horses, dragged along in a pitiful state.

Tears welled up in her eyes. It was certain. These were the Dahnhaim tribesfolk who had lived in this wilderness for centuries. Her family had not been destroyed. They were still preserving their lineage.

At the same time, she could clearly see the humans dragging them away. A flame sparked in Siris’s eyes.

“Uuuuugh…”

Anger surged within her. This wasn’t the silent, icy cold anger she always felt while living as a slave. It wasn’t the sad, powerless anger that she had simply ignored and accepted as reality.

The heat of her entire body suppressed the desert’s hot winds. A scorching, blazing rage boiled within her chest. The boiled-over rage turned into flames, seemingly burning her entire body. Siris let out a fierce shout.

“Aaaah!”

Meanwhile, Bright’s group watched the approaching Siris with puzzled expressions.

Initially, they had been happy about the easy money. She was coming at them without the need for them to chase her, a stroke of luck they naïvely rejoiced over. But as the elf girl drew closer, her appearance seemed increasingly troubling.

Of course, Bright’s group wasn’t sharp enough to feel wary of Siris’s intensity. If they were that perceptive, they wouldn’t have picked a fight with Repenhardt in the first place. What puzzled them was something else.

One of them stared blankly and muttered.

“Hey, what’s up with her clothes…?”

The attire of the wild elves here was, to put it simply, only slightly better than that of beasts. Their primary garments were ragged clothes, crudely made from cactus fibers and charred wood, barely fit to be called sacks. Yet, the attire of this elf seemed like it could belong to a renowned noblewoman knight.

Moreover, the scimitar she carried was keenly sharp, unlike ordinary swords. It was a genuine piece, incomparable to the stone swords, bronze swords, or wooden swords typically used by the wild elves.

While this was happening, Siris had already approached right up to Bright and his party. One of the mercenaries, smirking, stepped forward.

“Well, she’s just an elf female after all.”

With a face full of scorn, the mercenary raised his axe threateningly. “Here we go, I’ll chop you down. Scared? Are you scared?”

At that moment, a blue flash struck the mercenary’s body three times.

“…Huh?”

Confusion filled the mercenary’s eyes as his body was sliced into four pieces. Siris had swiftly delivered four cuts in a single breath, gruesomely chopping him up. The head of the still confused mercenary flew high into the air, followed by blood spraying like a fountain in all directions.

Something warm splattered on his face. Bright uttered in a dazed voice.

“…Huh?”

Siris lunged again. With a low stance, she moved like a snake, taking swift steps left and right, charging fiercely at another mercenary. Just when the mercenary, startled, raised his sword to block, there was a cry.

“Ughhh!”

Clang!

With a loud metallic sound, the mercenary’s sword shattered. Unbeknownst to the untrained eye, the scimitar Siris wielded was a masterpiece forged by the master dwarf smiths of the Grand Forge, perfectly tailored to her physique. It was crafted from mithril and steel, and occasionally, Repenhardt, who had recovered some of his magical powers, had also cast supportive spells on it. No mass-produced sword by a human blacksmith could compare.

Crack!

Siris’s scimitar, having broken the mercenary’s sword, sliced directly through his chest. The mercenary, who hadn’t bothered to wear proper armor due to the desert heat, was easily cut through flesh and bone.

Splash!

Once again, a fountain of blood spread in all directions. The golden sands were covered with a spreading red sea. Bright’s eyes widened. He was suddenly alert. This was no ordinary elf!

“Shit! Catch her, everyone!”

Bright yelled furiously. Finally, the mercenaries snapped to attention and began to seriously engage Siris.

* * *

Under the desert sun, Siris’s platinum blonde hair sparkled splendidly. With her hair fluttering, she twisted her body and leaped into the air. The spinning scimitar scattered blades in every direction. The wrists of the mercenaries attacking from both sides were deeply cut, exposing stark white bones.

“Aargh!”

“Aaah!”

Screaming, the two mercenaries clutched their wrists and retreated. Still airborne, Siris swung her sword, shaking off the blood. The blood and oil of the human she had just sliced were scattered along the blade, falling off like water droplets on a parsnip leaf.

This was thanks to the moisture and oil-repellent magic that Repenhardt had cast for her. Although the sword was not yet enchanted with the essential Sharpness magic due to insufficient skill, the effect was still sufficient. The biggest factor slowing down a sword’s sharpness is human blood and oil. Siris’s scimitar, no matter how many people it sliced through, would not dull from the human oils.

Like a goddess of death scattering blood, one of the mercenaries exclaimed in awe.

“What the hell! Such ferocity for an elf!”

Even in this situation, it seemed he could not grasp the gravity. Holding her scimitar upright above her head, Siris landed and delivered a downward slash. One mercenary tried to block it with his axe, but her momentum-filled scimitar completely sliced through the axe handle and cleaved his head in two.

“Aargh!”

With a scream, gray brain matter splattered everywhere. Losing five companions in an instant, Bright’s party went berserk and charged at her. Siris’s movements grew even faster. Although she lacked the blessing of Sillan, her decades of sword training had already turned her into a beast. Her movements, reminiscent of a black panther, allowed her to dash through the mercenaries, scattering blood in all directions. Continuous screams followed.

“Gurk!”

“Aargh!”

Four more comrades lost a limb each and tumbled on the sand. The expressions on the remaining mercenaries’ faces no longer held any trace of underestimation. They had realized that they could no longer dismiss her as just another elven female.

As the mercenaries got serious, Siris’s movements also began to be restricted. Although they were the lowest of the low, they were mercenaries, having lived by the sword their entire lives. They were not simple adversaries who would blindly charge relying on sheer numbers like a peasant uprising.

“Haap!”

Three mercenaries synchronized their breaths and thrust their swords with a shout. The sharp stabbing attacks came from three directions at once. It was a moment when there seemed to be no escape, but Siris merely snorted in disdain.

“Hmph!”

In the past, she might have been injured, perhaps even losing an arm in such a situation. However, she had also gained considerable experience following Repenhardt around. Watching the battles of aura users had sharpened her judgment. Such a situation was no longer a crisis for her!

In that split second, Siris quickly gauged the speed of the three incoming blades. She lunged toward the closest sword.

Holding her scimitar, she blocked the tip of the opponent’s sword with the handle.

Clang!

The handle and the sword tip collided, sending sparks flying. Using the momentum, she twisted her body and blocked a stab aimed at her back with the blade of her scimitar. The relatively wide blade of the scimitar, if timed right, could serve as an excellent shield. After intercepting the attack from behind, she slid the blade along and reversed it to slash at the neck of another attacker.

Screech!

With a chilling sound, the neck of the last mercenary who had thrust at her was cleanly severed. All this happened in the blink of an eye. The attacking mercenaries were left stunned, not understanding what had just occurred.

Of course, Siris had no reason to wait for her opponents to comprehend what had happened.

‘Chance!’

Seizing the moment, she swung her scimitar left and right. The brief gap was all it took for the remaining two to spurt blood and fall to the ground.

Bright trembled and muttered,

“Ah, where did that come from!”

Then, a grave voice rang out from behind.

“Jahud Ron Keliphatina. Oh heat, come into my hand. Become the flame that strikes down the enemy! Fire Bolt!”

It was then that the mage Kronto, having just dismounted from his camel, cast magic towards Siris. A fiery missile cut through the air towards her. Startled, Siris stepped back and held her scimitar sideways. The fire missile struck the scimitar, causing an explosion.

“Ugh!”

Groaning, Siris kept retreating. She barely avoided a fatal blow, but even the aftermath of the explosion made her whole body shake, disrupting her stance. Then, Kronto’s incantation continued.

“Sephira di Krotel, oh earth, extend your hand and reclaim what originated from you! Iron Steel!”

Suddenly, Siris felt an extreme weight and dropped her scimitar. Kronto had cast a disarmament spell. Bright breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Siris weaponless.

“Phew, we’ve finally caught her.”

Just as Bright and his group were about to step forward, a majestic voice boomed from across the desert.

“Move and you die.”

As if on cue, Bright’s group froze like statues. Living as mercenaries, they had been accustomed to all sorts of curses and threats like lullabies. Yet, upon hearing this voice, an inexplicable chill seized them, and their bodies stiffened.

‘What, what’s this? Why am I reacting like this?’

It wasn’t any kind of magic, yet just a voice had this effect? Finding their own actions inexplicably strange, Bright and his group instinctively turned towards the source of the voice. And once again, they froze. The one who had shouted was ‘flying’ through the desert.

This was not a human-like action that could be described as ‘jumping’ or ‘running’. With every leap, he covered 20 to 30 meters, and with each touch of his feet, it was as though magic burst forth, sending pillars of sand soaring into the air.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Amid the loud noises, one of the mercenaries muttered dumbly.

“…A monster?”

However, Bright and his seasoned subordinates, veterans from the Chrome City Arena, could not afford to mutter leisurely like that. They knew all too well the inhumanly large young man approaching them.

“That, that’s…”

“Eeee?”

“Eek!”

As they each uttered strange noises, the young man swiftly closed the distance and landed among them. He then arrogantly surveyed his surroundings and smirked coldly.

“Well, well, what do we have here? An old acquaintance, perhaps?”