Chapter 211: The Giant's Roar
With each step the giant took, the battlefield shuddered and sank in on itself.
Thud.
The tip of the spear trembled. His hand trembled with it. The soldier gritted his teeth and forced more strength into his wrist. The vibrations traveled up through his very bones—it felt as though even the soup he'd eaten yesterday was shaking inside him.
"Form up! Hold your positions!"
Amidst the scattering whistle blasts, the voices of commanders drove into every section of the front line. The shield wall had formed, but without conviction. The giants were not alone. Countless footsteps were advancing toward them.
"How are we supposed to stop ‘that’……"
A veteran soldier muttered. The recruit standing beside him didn't dare reply. His mouth had gone bone dry, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He pressed the arm slotted behind his shield harder. Through the shield, the sound of his comrades' breathing came through as clearly as if it were his own.
Thud.
The vibrations drew steadily closer. A pebble at his feet rattled and rolled forward. He could visibly see the shins of the man in front of him trembling.
Then—the shape of a giant broke through the mist. The largest of them stood at the vanguard.
"……The Great Gromchi."
The rumor that had spread from the southeastern reaches of the continent had taken form before them. It resembled a living fortress. A body wrapped in armor, iron chains, and the skulls of beasts took one step forward.
Beneath its feet, the Corrupted surged like a flooding tide. Trampled and kicked by the giants, they shrieked without the slightest trace of fear.
Behind it, giants of comparable size followed in succession. None, however, stood as tall as Gromchi. One could see at a glance who led them. Among any horde, the one that stood out was always the largest.
"Prepare to charge! Form up!"
The knights of Niboria assembled into assault formation. Heavily armored cavalry gripped their reins and dressed their lines. They had to act before the giants collided with the shield wall.
The Mountain Rabbits were among them. The veteran mercenaries patted their horses on the neck, shaking off the tension.
"We'll have to target the ankles."
Volga said, almost to himself. Zahira, standing beside him, added shortly,
"The number of The Corrupted is no small thing, either. The moment our speed drops, it's over…… Be careful."
Volga just grinned. Then he wrapped both hands around the hilt of his greatsword. The Mountain Rabbits' resolve was already set.
Somewhere between fear and courage.
Thud.
"Enemy approaching! Five hundred paces!"
The giants' position drew nearer. Enormous enough that you had to crane your neck to look up. Beneath them, the army of The Corrupted advanced like a swarm of ants clinging to everything.
Beyond that—winged things in the sky, Tunnel Worms ready to erupt from underground at any moment. Every one of those vile creatures moved quietly beneath the giants' feet.
"Four hundred paces…… three hundred……!"
Hadiya's voice cracked.
At that moment, Royce stepped forward. Instead of a shout, he conveyed his meaning with a whistle. A method that had grown familiar not only to the Mountain Rabbits but to the allied knights as well.
Phweeeee—!!
"Charge! Sweep them away!"
"Cut through the wind and drench yourselves in enemy blood!"
Thousands of cavalry launched at once. Filling the horizon, they drove their hooves down in unison to a steady rhythm. A smooth start, a gradual build of speed—and no slowing down again.
The giants' footfalls and the thunder of the cavalry's hooves intermingled. As the vibrations crossed one another, Adrian led the follow-up forces.
"Latia! Ready! We cannot afford to be late!"
From behind, a harsh string of curses rang out as chains rattled and heaved.
The sailors laughed roughly, as though meeting a sea wind, and raised their harpoons. Iron heads aimed for the legs of giants. The sailors' prayer spilled rapidly from their lips.
CRASH!!
In an instant, a tremendous roar erupted from the front. With the first collision, the battlefield opened.
* * *
The allied knights drove into the enemy lines without a moment's hesitation. After the hooves crushed through the Corrupted horde, the blades followed.
The monsters attempted to block their path, but not one succeeded. Mana surged violently as the air quivered in waves. Flames erupted along the blades.
Ksheee—!!
Like a boulder brought down upon an egg, the enemy line crumbled. Tunnel Worms burst from the ground moments later, but only a handful of riders were unhorsed. The horses shifted course with sharp intelligence, and the knights focused on piercing through the enemy lines rather than engaging them directly.
"Make room!!"
Royce cried out, his eyes fixed upward.
Simply eliminating The Corrupted wasn't enough. They had not come to seize the battlefield's momentum. Their true intent lay further back.
The second wave.
Following the path carved by the knights, Latia's sailors began their charge. The key was to stop the giants' march.
"Throw!"
Swoooosh—!!
With a piercing shriek of metal, the first harpoon flew.
The iron head aimed for a giant's ankle, but glanced off its thick skin and was deflected. Still, Latia's sailors did not despair. As though prepared in advance, they looped chains and hurled again. If the harpoon couldn't be embedded, it could be lashed and dragged.
When five or six lines of chain combined with the weight of dozens of bodies, even that enormous leg faltered briefly.
"Charge! Close in tight!"
In that gap, those who could wield mana straightened the points of their blades. If the harpoon cannot pierce through, then make a hole that can be pierced.
A sword wreathed in flame drove its way into the giant's skin.
Grooaarr—
"One's stopped!"
Someone cried out. The second harpoon flew immediately after—not to be embedded directly this time, but to be delivered beneath the giant's feet.
Adrian snatched the harpoon mid-flight as it crossed the air. In the next instant, he drove it into the wound he had opened in the giant's ankle. The inverted serrated blade bit deep into the tough flesh and locked itself fast.
The same scene played out across the front lines.
"Good! If we can just keep it bound like this……!"
Before those hopeful words could finish, the giant's thick arm swung down toward the ground.
Whoom—BOOM!!
A simple sweep of the arm. No weapon even held. But that single swipe across the area was enough—the soldiers nearby were swept away. Shields and all, men in full armor were ripped away in an instant. Five or six sailors who had been holding the chains spun through the air, then slammed into the ground.
The sound of bones snapping was so vivid that the surrounding area fell momentarily silent.
"Don't let go of the lines!!"
The front-line commanders screamed until they tasted blood. With the sight of comrades dying before their very eyes, the sailors refused to release the lines to the last. Their feet were dragged, gouging furrows in the dirt, and blood burst from their palms.
"Additional anchoring! Prepare the second harpoon! Take it down fast!"
Latia's vice-captain issued orders in a raw, hoarse voice. Shortly after, dozens more harpoons flew. Lines crossed, and dozens of chains applied force simultaneously.
At last, the giant's footsteps came to a complete stop.
"We've got it!"
"It's going down! Clear out!!"
Cries erupted from every direction. A brief but unmistakable surge of achievement swept through the allied camp.
Then.
Thud.
From a different direction, another giant's foot fell.
* * *
Calix surveyed the entire battlefield from above. They had managed to slow the giants' advance, but in the end, could not prevent them from reaching the main body of the formation.
A giant stepped toward the shield wall. Shields flew in every direction as earth and dust erupted. People were swept into the air along with them.
"Hold! I said hold!"
The front-line commanders screamed until their throats tore. Beside one of them, a new recruit was kicked by the giant's foot and went airborne. He didn't leave so much as a single word—he struck the rocks behind him and crumpled. The half-shattered spear fell moments later, and by then the soldier's body had gone limp.
The soldiers fell silent. He had been a comrade they'd shared warm drink with, someone they'd sung alongside. A friend they'd sharpened spearheads with, laughing and cursing the wicked things. He had been crushed, in an instant, in the most literal sense of the word.
"Fill the gap!"
The veteran soldiers forced their arms out and dragged others forward. The soldier standing across from the gap was nearly pulled bodily into place as he took up position in the shield wall.
Calix quietly bit his lip.
‘He knows the gap cannot be filled. Yet he cannot give the order to fall back.’
"They're pressing hard from the very start."
Someone said in a low voice. It was Gregor. He stroked his horse's muzzle and continued.
"Still—they were bound. It stopped near the edge of the shield wall."
"……Yes."
Calix's voice trailed off. His gaze was not on the restrained giant but on the ones still walking, entirely unimpeded. Beneath their feet, men and The Corrupted alike were torn apart. Friend or foe, it seemed to make no difference to the giants.
Calix turned his own choices over in his mind, while the old man silently watched the Silver Shield Legion.
They had accepted a merciless reality.
Everyone knew. The continental alliance had chosen sacrifice—to face the Legion Commander, and to decide the outcome against De Generitum. To debate the rights and wrongs of that choice would therefore be an insult to the warriors who made it.
And so Calix said, composedly,
"I'm not sure how long Latia's sailors will be able to hold on."
Gregor's gaze moved to the front line. Each time a giant raised its leg, the number of people hanging from the harpoon lines was cut in half. Just now, another group had been swept by the giant's arm and gone—fluttering through the air as though severed from the world.
The old man answered with a bitter expression.
"Perhaps not. But one thing is certain."
Calix turned his head to look at him. Gregor—the old man who had lost his memories. And yet, among all the people Calix knew, the wisest.
"The iron will remain."
"The iron……"
"Those harpoons, I mean. Men may die, but the iron stays. That's what matters right now."
For a moment, he was struck silent.
Gregor's words were that cold—and that real. Though his old comrades were on the battlefield, he did not let slip even the faintest trace of concern.
And through it, he gave Calix something to hold onto.
"Cook Comrade—do not let their deaths wash away from you. They are things that must not be spent in vain. Aren't they?"
"……They are."
Calix barely wrung out an answer. His throat had gone dry, and the sound came with difficulty. Even so, the old man nodded, seemingly satisfied.
Those words were a vow.
A promise not to forget the weight of the responsibility resting on his shoulders. That promise was the last thread that would hold this battlefield together.
That was when it happened.
CRACK.
A resonance different from anything before spread across the field. Alongside the sound of air being split, the earth gave a low groan.
"……What's that?"
Far at the head of the vast horde—a shape a great deal larger even than the giants halted its advance. The enemy's march broke. Even the monsters trailing behind it seemed to have stopped breathing all at once, their movement cut short.
"What in—"
Before the flood of questions could erupt, The Great Gromchi raised its head.
The armored ribcage swelled and expanded, and from within it, air was forced outward. It was too heavy to be called a breath, too low to be called a roar.
Then, the shriek tore loose.
ROOAARRR—!!
At a sound unlike anything else, the earth cried out. The plain ahead lurched and split as though swept by a shockwave, and fine cracks radiated outward, carving through the allied forces.
Men and beasts alike lost their footing and fell.
Then the two feet of Gromchi brought the ground crashing down. From within it, mana of darkness surged upward. A force that spread like mist smothered the cracks, and a specific expanse of space hardened into the shape of a circle.
"……It's his Domain."
In the next instant, Gromchi's eyes locked directly onto Calix.
The rearmost part of the human formation—the space before the command tent where the Masters and heroes had gathered. It had identified that precise location exactly.
"So it's finally come!"
Gregor's lips moved as he beat his shield.
Then, someone called out the young man's name.
"Calix!"
The Masters had their hands on their sword hilts, waiting for Calix's command.