Chapter 21: Child of the Wind

Hogg’s gnoll followers had been slain or scattered; he was at the end of his road. When he found himself surrounded by a ring of human soldiers, the powerful gnoll chieftain slowly rose from the grass, baring his cold, razor-sharp fangs. His stature, far more imposing than that of any other gnoll, sent a ripple of unease through the soldiers. Since there was no escape, he would let his claws rend the flesh of his foes, let his fangs savor their blood and flesh—this bloodthirsty urge set a red haze over his emerald eyes.

“A berserking gnoll? None of you interfere—leave this one to me. Its head is worthy to hang in my collection room. Bruce, don’t you dare try to compete with me,” declared Baron Eskri, clad in dusky blue-black armor, laughing as he strode toward Hogg.

Stepping past the slowly retreating soldiers, Eskri struck his shield with his longsword, the clang ringing out as he halted ten meters before Hogg, his gaze steady and intense.

Hogg regarded this formidable man of iron before him. This was the one who had destroyed his tribe, driven him into a corner; despair and hatred ignited his blood, and a power he had never known before awoke within him, searing his senses. Now, he had only a single thought: to tear this damned human to shreds.

“Bloodrage?!” Bruce’s brow arched as he saw the rabid gnoll’s eyes flare red, its already robust frame swelling even larger.

With a long howl, Hogg charged at his enemy with unprecedented speed. The tough wild grass before him was crushed and swept into the air by the wind trailing his body, making his charge seem unstoppable.

Eskri’s eyes betrayed not a flicker of fear in the face of this ferocious onslaught; he stood unmoved, as unshakable as obsidian.

At the moment of contact, Eskri blocked the gnoll chieftain’s slashing claws with his shield. The tremendous force drove the knight four meters back, his iron boots gouging two deep ruts in the earth.

“Now that’s strength!” Eskri tossed aside his now-mangled shield, a smile curling at his lips—he relished such a powerful foe.

“Again!” Eskri spun his longsword in a flourish and charged at the gnoll.

Emboldened by his own might, Hogg roared, rushing the knight once more, this time intent on wrenching off his enemy’s head.

Eskri sidestepped the claws, his sword carving a savage wound beneath the gnoll’s ribs.

A side cut!

Yet the knight did not pause after wounding his foe. Planting his legs, he changed direction in an instant, his whole body like a loosed crossbow bolt as his sword thrust straight for Hogg’s chest.

In his blood-crazed state, Hogg ignored his pain, spinning to launch another wild attack—but the knight’s sword plunged through his heart.

A thrust!

The battle was over. As Eskri drew his sword from the gnoll’s chest, Hogg froze as if spellbound—this was a mortal wound.

Blood gushed from his mouth and nose, but his powerful frame and indomitable will refused to yield. Straining his muscles in an attempt to close the wound, his undimmed fighting spirit moved Eskri.

With a knight’s salute to his foe, Eskri charged Hogg once more.

If it had been Sir Bruce, he would never have rushed a dying gnoll bent on a last desperate attack. He would have wiped his blade and left the beast to die slowly.

But Eskri was different. If Bruce was a noble among knights, Eskri was a knight among nobles. To slay one’s opponent at the height of life’s flame—what ecstasy!

As Hogg gathered the last of his life and will for a final strike, Eskri delivered a sword cut—the very first his father had taught him at the age of four, a cut he had practiced thousands of times each day without fail. The blow severed the gnoll’s sharp claws and swept across its neck; blood and head soared together.

A clean slash!

Now! Fangbreaker made his move.

Fangbreaker had long observed that the sharpshooter on the slope required a soldier to load his heavy crossbow after every shot. The fierce melee in the valley had drawn everyone’s attention, and at this moment, the crossbow was empty.

This was the very chance Fangbreaker had been waiting for!

He charged at Victor on the hillside. The slope and the wind posed no obstacle; he moved like a gust of wind.

By the time Gru and several guards noticed Fangbreaker, he was less than ten meters from Victor.

But Nicole also sprang into action. Seeing the gnoll bearing down at terrifying speed, the beautiful squire reacted instantly.

She tossed aside her heavy shield, raised her gleaming longsword, and charged to meet Fangbreaker.

A brilliant arc of sword-light swept toward the gnoll as it leapt, aiming to slice him in two as he soared through the air with nowhere to dodge.

The ferocity of the strike chilled Fangbreaker to the bone. In a flash of desperation, he let out a piercing howl. His bristling mane stood on end, and the swirling breeze about his body suddenly intensified. The moment the sword touched him, the currents of air checked the blade’s momentum, allowing Fangbreaker to slip left, riding the force to safety.

The blade grazed his right flank, sparing him from being cleaved in half.

The slippery sensation through the sword warned Nicole of trouble. As she turned to pursue, she saw Fangbreaker already within arm’s reach of Victor, his sharp claws slashing toward the archer’s throat.

“No!” Nicole cried out in anguish. She wanted to hurl her sword, but feared hitting Victor; she lunged desperately, but it was too late.

Fangbreaker was exultant. Nicole’s sword had wounded but not killed him, and his target was now within reach. One swipe, and his claws would rip out the sharpshooter’s throat—then he would escape.

He could almost smell the blood on his prey’s neck. Just as Fangbreaker believed victory was his, the human sharpshooter’s stunned expression shifted into a smile.

Victor had long since spotted Fangbreaker lurking below the slope, but with guards and Nicole nearby, he had not considered the small gnoll much of a threat.

But the sudden burst of speed—and the swirling wind about the beast—had taken everyone by surprise.

The X-3 chip gave Victor real-time data on Fangbreaker’s movements, but his ordinary body could not react quickly enough.

When Fangbreaker broke past Nicole and lunged for him, Victor sensed the breeze that wreathed the gnoll. Suddenly, the world changed in his eyes.

Everything slowed down, every detail etched into his mind. He saw Nicole’s look of despair, Gru and the guards jabbing their spears at the gnoll in panic, the gnoll’s hungry red eyes and flashing claws.

Most importantly, he saw the wind.

The joyous wind swept through him, conveying its delight. The sensation filled Victor with elation, and he could not help but smile.

In that instant, he truly sensed the omnipresent wind element, merging with its carefree spirit—he was the child of the wind.

Victor spun lightly aside, evading the claws aimed at his throat, drew Gru’s dagger from the sheath at his thigh, and struck at Fangbreaker’s neck.

There was no resistance. The dagger slid easily through the gnoll’s neck and pierced his spine.

The stroke was light, precise, and deadly.

When Nelson and the guards arrived, they found Victor gently holding Nicole as she wept and trembled in his arms. Fangbreaker’s corpse lay not far away, his lifeless eyes still clouded with bewilderment.