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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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A hairless body with a beak like a sharp horn.
This creature was unfamiliar.
I had never seen or heard of anything like it.
The grotesque, long-headed birds flew low over the procession, then plummeted with startling speed.
In the blink of an eye, a sharp beak pierced the torso of a soldier.
“Gah!”
The bird soared skyward, carrying the impaled soldier, his upper body skewered on its beak. The gruesome sight made me recoil in disgust.
“Ugh…”
They were as repulsive as they looked.
The soldier’s blood splattered on the ground.
The sudden shift to combat put the surrounding soldiers on high alert.
Their numbers… roughly twenty?
Many or few, depending on the perspective, but the problem was their aerial mobility.
Most of the relief force were spearmen.
Dealing with airborne enemies using only archers… seemed problematic.
“Let’s go, lads!”
The other adventurers grabbed their weapons and hurried to join the soldiers.
While everyone else scrambled, I…
“Hmm…”
One of the grotesque birds near me glanced in my direction.
Even though my eyes were covered, it seemed to notice my gaze and turned away, circling elsewhere.
It wasn’t targeting me. But with their superior numbers, they weren’t fleeing either.
I had a rough idea of their positions.
In that case…
I notched an arrow and aimed at one of the birds.
The string creaked taut, and with a whoosh, the arrow flew.
Thwack!
Screech!
The bird, struck near its neck, simply flew away.
They weren’t particularly strong.
A stronger monster would have retaliated immediately, even after initially avoiding me.
Fleeing after being attacked meant they weren’t a significant threat.
Just… their flight and those horn-like beaks were troublesome.
“Intercepting them is fine, but the casualties are piling up.”
I muttered, watching the soldiers regroup.
Being picked off one by one was inefficient.
If a smaller group could distract the birds…
We could respond much more effectively.
…But who would do it?
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Belle gulped, hearing the screech of the grotesque birds overhead.
Her grip on her sword tightened, her palms growing sweaty.
She was used to dispatching wild dogs, but this was her first encounter with actual monsters.
And not low-level goblins, either.
These were airborne, clearly dangerous creatures.
“Aagh!”
Another soldier was snatched, carried away like a bee stinging its prey.
Each time the birds dove, spears thrust upwards, but the beaks always struck first, piercing flesh before a fatal blow could be landed.
Belle’s heart pounded as she witnessed another life extinguished.
‘This is real…’
This wasn’t practice against wild dogs.
This was a real battle, where mistakes meant death.
Monster extermination, the most dangerous of adventurer tasks.
High reward, but high mortality.
A job most avoided unless confident in their abilities.
And Belle was standing right in the middle of it.
‘My legs… won’t move…’
The scene was too vivid.
The airborne monsters, the spear-wielding soldiers, the splattered blood. In the midst of the chaotic battle, Belle was frozen.
This first taste of real combat was overwhelming for a novice like her.
“Ugh!”
Her legs trembling, Belle locked eyes with one of the circling birds.
The moment their gazes met, the bird turned and swooped down, heading straight for her.
Even as the distance closed rapidly, Belle’s trembling legs refused to obey.
Just as the bird’s beak was about to strike, someone grabbed the back of her neck and yanked her backwards.
Belle tumbled to the ground, the bird’s shadow passing over her.
“Stay back.”
“Z-Zeta…!”
Zeta, having pulled Belle to safety, stood protectively in front of her.
The bird circled back, preparing for another attack.
Zeta, shielding Belle, took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
The teachings she had received in Tillasden flashed through her mind.
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“Feel the wind.”
“……The wind?”
Zeta tilted her head at her master’s words.
Though she couldn’t see him, she sensed a hint of amusement in his tone.
“You should be able to feel it, however subtly. The shift in air pressure as something approaches, the wind currents around obstacles.”
“…….”
“Perceiving things through sound and vibration is a good method, but it has limitations. Try feeling the wind.”
His tone lacked conviction, as if he wasn’t entirely sure himself.
But Zeta had heard rumors of Iyerpol sensing the wind.
His words seemed connected to those rumors, but… for Zeta, feeling the wind was a rather abstract concept.
“How do I feel the wind?”
“How…? Um…”
He sounded as if he struggled to explain, as though he didn’t quite understand it himself.
Was it a sensation difficult to put into words?
Zeta wondered, but she attempted to grasp the concept nonetheless.
Closing her eyes, she tried to read the movement of the wind.
Closing her eyes, reading the movement of the…
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‘Read the movement of the wind…’
Zeta took a shallow breath, her eyes closed.
A torrent of information flooded her hyper-focused mind.
The shouts of soldiers, the screeches of the birds, the clang of weapons against flesh.
How far away each sound originated, what each sound represented.
A picture of the surrounding chaos formed in Zeta’s mind.
But the sheer volume of noise made it difficult to focus.
This wasn’t a sparring match; this was a real battlefield.
She was encountering her limits.
But Zeta didn’t panic.
The bird that had targeted Belle would return for another attack.
‘The wind…’
As if the world itself was distorting, Zeta’s focus intensified.
The cacophony of sound gradually faded.
Unlike before, when she had tried to perceive everything through her remaining senses, Zeta now shut them all down.
The only sensation she allowed was the faintest whisper of wind against her skin.
That, and only that, was what Zeta felt.
Her heightened focus honed in on every tactile sensation.
In the silence, a single feather landed on the still surface of her awareness.
Zeta swung her sword diagonally, putting all her strength into the motion.
A solid impact reverberated through her arm.
Swish!
Screech!
She had cut it.
The warm, sticky liquid splattering her face, the bird’s shriek, the weight remaining on her blade.
Zeta knew, with absolute certainty, that she had struck the bird.
Her closed eyelids flickered open.
Her unusually pale eyes, unlike those of most people, held a spark of triumph.
“I… felt the wind.”
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The grotesque bird swooped down towards Zeta.
Despite the obvious danger, Zeta remained motionless, shielding Belle.
Her unwavering stance, her two-handed grip on her sword, told Belle that Zeta was intensely focused.
Just as the bird’s beak was about to reach Zeta, she swung her sword.
As if she knew it was there.
Zeta’s blade sliced through the bird’s wing, sending it crashing to the ground with a screech.
“Zeta…”
The girl, having felled a monster several times her size with a single blow, stood impassively, her expression unchanged.
Sword lowered, eyes slightly open, she looked almost regal.
Belle’s hands clenched into fists.
The girl before her stood tall, a victor.
And she, Belle, lay on the ground, a helpless bystander.
Unable to move, pulled back by the girl’s hand, she had done nothing but fall.
The feeling swirling within Belle… was an unfamiliar blend of awe and frustration.
The other birds, seeing their companion fall, turned their attention to Zeta.
Two dove simultaneously, but one was struck down mid-flight by an arrow.
“Zeta! Cover fire! Fight freely!”
Her senior, having appeared from the supply wagon, was providing cover with his bow.
Both of them, blind, were fighting with an almost supernatural prowess, taking down the birds one by one.
Their blindness, their skill… it was beyond the realm of ordinary humans.
Watching their coordinated attack, the master and disciple working in perfect harmony, Belle gritted her teeth.
The feeling churning within her chest…
Was pure, unadulterated frustration.
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“Regroup! Form a tight defense where the birds are focusing!”
Nikolai’s narrowed eyes were fixed on the girl who had become the target of the birds’ attacks.
She had heard the girl was blind, a disciple of the Blind Swordsman, Iyerpol, who had come seeking his tutelage.
And in this chaotic battle, the blind girl was the most striking figure.
Her clean swordsmanship, her unwavering composure, even Nikolai, a knight, was impressed.
The girl, barely past her teens, was cutting down the birds one by one.
And behind her, Iyerpol provided support.
The two blind individuals were shining brighter than anyone else on the battlefield.
“Iyerpol…”
Nikolai murmured his name.
He had gone to the rear, claiming a bad feeling, and sure enough, the birds had attacked from the rear.
And the girl fighting so valiantly was his disciple.
The other adventurers had adapted, focusing their attacks where the two blind individuals were drawing the birds’ attention.
“……He’s definitely not ordinary.”
The image of the amiable young man had shifted.
Clerk Yordo’s assessment of Iyerpol had been accurate.
Nikolai’s gaze followed Iyerpol as he stood atop the supply wagon, bow in hand.
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Thanks for the chapter