Count Shedil was the heir to a venerable knightly order that had pioneered the Demonlands for hundreds of years, since the days when the Arman Empire still stood and House Hasra had been no more than the grand dukes of the east. The magic sword he handed over had likewise accompanied his family through centuries of pioneering.

Among the relics unearthed in the Demonlands were many magical devices more powerful than this sword. Yet its long history with the family made it something special, beyond its actual capabilities.

Naturally, then, Shan took it as a loan rather than a gift. Sir Gowell himself had only borrowed the sword from the count whenever he needed it. The way the count had turned stern when Shan once casually asked for it as a reward for sparring said all there was to say about how highly he treasured the weapon.

"I will take good care of it and return it to you."

Shan bowed respectfully in thanks. The count let out a sharp sigh.

"Never mind that. If you succeed in cutting off the ogre's head, the sword is yours outright. Keep using it long after I'm dead, until you're so old you're smearing shit on the walls. And if you have a son, pass it on to him."

"What? But... this is your family treasure."

At Shan's puzzled response to the unexpected offer, the count gazed far to the west, where the capital, Hasra, lay.

"Have you ever met that son of mine?"

"Yes, briefly, at the send-off..."

Unlike his father, who had made his name as a knight in his youth, Count Shedil's son had spent his entire career as a bureaucrat in the capital. The young noble Shan had glimpsed during the send-off banquet had a slender build and rather irritable eyes, quite unlike his father. They had no particular connection, and the son had shown no sign of acknowledging him, so Shan had not gone out of his way to approach him.

"I didn't want people calling him an ignorant country noble, so I sent him to the capital as a boy to see the world and learn. But at some point his letters grew infrequent. When I told him it was time to come home and inherit the domain, he started making every excuse he could to stay away. Doesn't want to leave that splendid, safe capital to rot in this backwater, does he?"

Certainly, conditions in Shedil were inferior to Hasra's in many respects. As the current situation demonstrated, its proximity to the Demonlands brought disasters like this every few decades to a hundred-odd years.

Nor was the count's son alone. Plenty of landed nobles sent agents to their domains to collect taxes while they lived in luxury in their capital mansions on the proceeds.

"He's still young. I can understand that much. But being too frightened to show his face when his own domain is in danger? That's another matter. He could easily have come with the expedition, but all he sent was a letter full of rambling excuses... This sword is wasted on a coward like that."

Looking at the count's gloomy face, Shan began to understand why he wanted to give him the sword outright.

Count Shedil had all but given up. The domain he had spent his life tending was half devastated. The son he had sent to study in the capital from a young age, hoping he would receive a good education and make connections, lacked even the courage to come protect his family's lands.

With things as they were, he was throwing the damned magic sword away: take it, so long as you kill the ogre. Perhaps this, too, was a way of expressing his resentment toward his son.

After a moment's hesitation, Shan fastened the sword at his waist and nodded.

"I will kill it."

"Please do. My life is already half a failure. And that's assuming I drive the creature off and save my domain. If I can't even do that, it will have been a complete failure."

An invasion by an ogre horde lord was closer to a natural disaster than a consequence of Count Shedil's incompetence. Yet he seemed deeply ashamed that his domain had fallen to ruin in his generation.

Shan started to offer some comfort, then closed his mouth and silently nodded. He had a feeling nothing he could say now would console the old man.

* * *

After parting with Count Shedil, Shan left the castle with Lug and headed into the residential district through the steady drizzle. Roden and Shan's hired Altoan mercenaries were staying at an inn in the city. Considering that most soldiers were lodging in houses left empty by those who had died or fled, it was quite a luxury.

When Shan opened the door and entered the inn, the elderly proprietor recognized him and bowed deeply, his face lighting up. Shan had stayed here during his days as an explorer.

"Oh! Sir Shan! The others are inside. Shall I bring you some cloths to dry yourselves?"

"Thank you."

Shan accepted the man's kindness, taking a bundle of cloths and handing half to Lug. Before they parted for their respective rooms, Lug clenched his fist.

"Until tomorrow, Sir Shan. Fortune in battle!"

"Fortune in battle."

As knights, they would each be sharing one of the largest, most expensive rooms with their attendant. Back when Shan had been an explorer, he had considered such a room too extravagant. He had never imagined he would one day use it as a knight.

He opened the door to find Roden putting their belongings in order so that he could rest.

"You're back? Took you long enough. How did the meeting go?"

"As you'd expect. We're going out to fight tomorrow. Once the rain stops."

Shan removed his helmet and rubbed his rain-damp hair with a cloth, then shook it out. As he gave a rough account of the war council, Roden wiped the inside of his helmet with a wry smile.

"So that's how it turned out. You could tell at a glance they were short of food... Oh, that reminds me. I ran into Zerpo earlier."

"Huh? What's Zerpo doing here?"

Zerpo had been the mage of Green Eyes, the expedition the two of them had once founded. Why would a man who had retired after earning enough money suddenly be in Shedil?

"Mages need monster materials for their research. Apparently he came to a big city like Shedil to buy supplies and got trapped. The mercenaries who escorted him here ran off without him."

"That's rotten luck."

"He might be lucky, actually. There's not even any news of what's happened to the city where his school is based."

"Oh."

That, too, must have contributed greatly to the gloom hanging over Shedil. Many of its citizens would have relatives in the neighboring towns and villages.

At least there was a good chance that Vent, the priest who had traveled with them, and his monastery were still safe. The monastery was about three days' walk west of Shedil, putting it in an area still safe from the monster invasion. Of course, it was some distance from their marching route, so they had not visited to see for themselves.

"So, starting tomorrow, we have to find a way to kill that ogre. Whether it's for revenge or so people can go on living... But what's that sword? I haven't seen it before."

"Oh, this? Here."

"Urk."

Shan drew the sword halfway from its scabbard to show the curious Roden. Roden flinched and froze at the blade suddenly appearing before his eyes, then gaped as he realized what it was.

"... That's a magic sword, isn't it? Looks like a very fine one, too. You didn't steal it or take it off someone in a duel, did you?"

"Count Shedil gave it to me."

Roden's expression grew grave as Shan told him of Sir Gowell's death and how he had inherited the knight's will through the sword.

"I see. Sir Gowell..."

"He offered me the sword, so I took it. Could that cause trouble?"

"You said Sir Lug was there as a witness, so I doubt it'll be a problem. You'll have to keep a close eye on it, though."

Unlike A Thousand Forms, Count Shedil's magic sword was a precious treasure of the sort a renowned knight might reasonably own. Of course, as Roden had said, Shan would have to put up with the flies it attracted.

With a slightly trembling hand, Roden traced the letters engraved in the blade.

"Count Shedil... If it's House Kurt's magic sword, I think it was called the Guardian of the East."

"Yes. That's what he called it."

The magic sword Guardian of the East contained a small amount of trueiron, one of the three great metals. It was a legendary metal said to be almost impossible to damage by physical means without special methods. Thanks to that, the sword ranked among the most durable magic swords in existence. Its enchantments also enhanced its cutting and thrusting power, making it ideal for slaying powerful monsters.

"One weapon of truesilver and one of trueiron. Now all you need is something made of truegold to complete the collection."

"Truegold isn't much good for weapons, though."

"That depends on how you use it. Anyway, this is a relief. I wasn't comfortable with you having just the one lance."

The magical device Sherin had made for him, Heart Destroyer, was certainly an excellent lance. But the nature of the weapon made it worrying to depend on it entirely. However much magic strengthened it, its shaft was still wood, and there was a substantial risk of it breaking in combat with enormous monsters.

Having a sturdy sword to fall back on in such a situation was immensely reassuring.

Nodding at Roden's words, Shan unfastened the sword, set it beside the head of his bed, and sat down by the fireplace. For now, he needed to dry himself and his clothes thoroughly so he would not catch cold, and prepare for tomorrow's battle.

* * *

The next morning, the clouds that had scattered rain all night had blown away, leaving a brilliantly clear sky. As planned, the expedition assembled northeast of the castle, in the direction the monster army had disappeared the day before.

Count Shedil had gathered his troops as promised and raised his banner among the expedition's ranks. His men would help in the fighting, but their familiarity with the local terrain would make them even more valuable as scouts.

"Is that the famous Sir Shan?"

"That's him. The champion of Green Eyes. The cockatrice hunter."

"He really is young... I can see it. He's going to be a legend someday."

"Being the first Altoan knight says it all."

Most of those whispering as they watched Shan were explorers. Spotting a few familiar faces among them, he gave them a small wave. Despite their fearsome looks, it was rather endearing to see them squabble over which of them the great Sir Shan had acknowledged.

He had only a short while to chuckle at their antics before everyone assembled. Count Kram, who commanded the expedition's strongest contingent, gave the order to march on everyone's behalf.

"Follow their tracks, and we'll find them before long! Move out!"

Just as he said, the monster army had left an unmistakable trail. Their footprints were impressed in the earth softened by the previous day's rain. The tracks of large monsters such as trolls and owlbears were especially clear, as were the prints left by the ogre's feet and two fists. There was no mistaking them.

"Damn, this road's a mess."

"It's so wet..."

The resulting muddy track, however, also proved a considerable obstacle to the expedition's advance. Sensing Arwin's irritation at the squelch of mud getting into her hooves, Shan stroked her neck.

"There, there. Bear with it a little longer. Save your strength for the fight ahead."

She should not have been able to feel his touch through the barding, but she calmed as though she had noticed it. Perhaps merely hearing Shan's voice had helped.

To their surprise, the expedition found its quarry after only a couple of hours of struggling along the rain-soaked road.

"The ogre is up ahead!"

"There aren't many monsters around it, unlike yesterday!"

"It's still fleeing northeast!"

According to the scouts, the ogre had only three or four large monsters and forty or fifty assorted lesser ones with it. Had retreating in fear of the human army cost it control of its followers?

Either way, they would have to reach it before they could fight. Realizing they were close to their target, the lords immediately ordered preparations for battle.

"If you would, Father."

"This is a battle to protect humanity in accordance with the Goddess's will. It is only right that we serve her purpose. Have no fear."

At the courteous requests, the priests accompanying the expedition bestowed blessings on the knights and soldiers: courage for the soldiers, so they would not falter before large monsters, and tireless vitality for the knights, whose own spirit could overcome such fear.

"It is done, brother."

"Thank you."

Shan and Arwin likewise received the blessing of vitality from a New Faith priest. As strength surged through them, belligerent smiles appeared on the knights' faces.

"Good. Let's go!"

Bolstered by courage and strength, they advanced swiftly and soon came face-to-face with the ogre's monster army. The monsters stood at the entrance to a gorge some thirty meters wide. Their numbers had indeed dwindled pitifully from the previous day.

"It's the ogre!"

"It's enormous..."

Without exception, the expedition members approaching it shuddered anew at the sight of the ogre in the flesh. Looking down from a wall or hill was one thing. Facing a giant over four meters tall on level ground was another. The pressure it exerted was immense.

Watching the approaching humans, the ogre opened its mouth wide, exposing sharp, crooked teeth. Unlike the cries of other monsters, the roar that welled up within it had a deep, heavy resonance, reminiscent of a wind instrument.

[────────────────]

Perhaps because it exceeded the range of human hearing, its roar felt less like sound than vibration. Hundreds of soldiers who had not received the blessing of courage because there were too few priests collapsed where they stood, their legs giving way.

"Good heavens..."

A roar that powerful, even at this distance.

The startled lords smiled when the ogre merely roared once without charging. Resistance to a monster's roar built up readily; the creature had just wasted one of its important weapons.

As time passed, the fallen soldiers began to rise one by one.

"Good. A monster is still just a monster! The path is narrow, so the vanguard will charge first! Both wings, support them from—"

"Y-Your Excellency! Look behind us!"

Count Kram turned and saw monsters pouring out from behind the eastern hill they had just passed. Banshees, werewolves, gnolls... Moving nimbly, the monsters appearing at their rear blocked the best route of retreat.

And that was not all. Water ghouls, kelpies, lizardmen, and other waterside monsters swarmed out of the western marsh, while harpies swooped down from above the gorge behind the ogre. Taken together, their numbers roughly matched the army that had surrounded Shedil the day before.

'We're surrounded...'

Surveying the area from Arwin's back, Shan knew instinctively that the ogre had deliberately lured them onto its chosen battlefield. Its roar just now had probably been a signal to summon the monsters hiding behind the hill.

Despite the blessing of courage, confusion filled the faces of the surrounded expedition members. The blessing merely provided resistance to monster roars and other mental attacks. It did not help them overcome their own fear.

"W-What do we do?"

"There are monsters everywhere!"

"Stay calm! The ogre! We only need to kill the ogre!"

"We need to pull back and reform first! This position is terrible!"

While the expedition members shouted over one another, the monsters' encirclement rapidly tightened. Then, acting on someone's decision, the vanguard began charging straight at the ogre. Presumably, they reckoned that killing the horde lord would cause its mixed force of monsters to collapse.

Shan briefly considered joining them, then decided against it. Even setting aside the political trouble of abandoning his agreed position, the ogre stood at the narrow entrance to the gorge, making it difficult to exploit their numerical advantage. In this situation, he was better off doing what he could.

If the vanguard fought the ogre and the right wing engaged the force at their rear, the left wing would have to confront the monsters emerging from the marsh. Finishing his calculations quickly, Shan tapped Lug beside him to get his attention.

"Let's move. At this rate, we won't even have room to charge."

"Ah, yes!"

"Roden! Form a defensive line and hold, even if it's just our men!"

"Understood!"

At Shan's order, Roden moved inside the defensive formation of thirty Altoan mercenaries, as they had agreed beforehand. He might somehow endure the blades and spears carried by his own side, but with so many armed monsters roaming the battlefield as well, he could hardly function as a fighting asset. His role in the battle was therefore to direct the mercenaries under him as a mounted commander.

Having given his orders, Shan rode out of formation with Lug and began charging the enemy.

"Damn..."

"Follow Sir Shan!"

Only then did the other knights assigned to the left wing grasp the situation and spur their horses after him. Since Shan deliberately kept Arwin from running at full speed, twelve knights soon gathered into a wedge.

Shan pressed his helmet firmly into place with his free left hand and shouted.

"Charge the water ghouls ahead!"

"Charge!"

At the head of the formation, Shan felt a strange bond forming between himself and the knights around him. It was as though all of them had become one long, sharp lance...

He understood now why knights were said to pledge their lances to their lords, why they themselves were likened to lances.

["Kieeeek!"]

A water ghoul's desperate scream mingled with a thunderous crash as the knights slammed into the monsters. Laden with spirit intent on driving the enemy back, the lance charge instantly reduced some fifty water ghouls to bloody pulp and hurled as many more in every direction.

While the monsters recoiled before that savage momentum, Shan spotted several knights with broken lances or obvious signs of exhaustion and shouted.

"Anyone who needs rest, to the rear!"

Knights possessed explosive power unmatched by any other kind of soldier, but lacked staying power. They needed to rest in the safe area provided by the infantry, replace broken lances, and change to fresh reserve mounts.

Of course, none of that applied to Shan. The lance Sherin had made was far too sturdy to break after a single charge, and Arwin had only just warmed up.

Having ordered the others back, Shan immediately urged his horse forward into the disordered monsters. Perhaps keeping pace with the other horses had irked her; Arwin now raced ahead in high spirits, running as though she could fly.

'Ah...'

The sight of hundreds of monsters all around set his mind boiling. His heart pounded as though it might burst, pumping blood through his body. Every color before his eyes blurred together, leaving only the outlines of things with an almost chilling clarity.

"What in the world is that speed?"

"It's too dangerous, Sir Shan!"

The nearby knights shouted, astonished by a speed their own warhorses could not begin to match and appalled by his reckless charge. However skilled a knight might be, he still had only two arms and no eyes in the back of his head. What was he thinking?

But Shan proved for himself that his actions were not reckless.

He drew in a sharp breath, gripped his lance in both hands, and began thrusting like a madman at every enemy he encountered.

Heads, eyes, throats, chests...

He aimed only for vital points where a thrust would kill. With such a fine lance, his spirit needed to lend only a little assistance.

From water ghouls as swift as wild beasts to lizardmen covered in hard scales and the half-spirit kelpies with their horselike upper bodies, not a single monster could withstand Shan's attacks. As though he had eyes on the crown and back of his head, he even countered ambushes from behind while unerringly skewering the harpies diving from the sky and bringing them down.

Everyone on the left wing stared wide-eyed at a rampage that seemed to grind the enemy formation to pieces.

"What the hell is—"

"I'll join you, Sir Shan!"

Lug shouted from behind and moved to cover Shan's exposed rear. His lance had broken in the earlier charge, so he now wielded an elongated longsword, almost a greatsword.

"Hyaaah!"

Though he fell short of Shan, Lug's prowess was terrifying in its own right. His already long arms, combined with his lengthy sword, allowed him to control an even wider area than Shan with his lance. His sweeping cuts severed three water ghouls' heads at once and split lizardmen lengthwise from head to crotch.

With his rear—the direction that most demanded his attention—securely protected, Shan began tearing through the enemy even more aggressively.

Thrust, thrust, and thrust again...

Every spray of monster blood and flesh sent elation surging through him. An overwhelming sense of omnipotence, as though he were the absolute master of this battlefield, or even a god.

Waging war with hundreds and thousands of enemies and allies all around produced a different kind of pleasure, one no small skirmish could offer.

Yet unlike other knights who grew drunk on that excitement, overused their spirit, and exhausted themselves, Shan carefully regulated his expenditure even now. He used only as much as the blessing of vitality could sustain.

"Let's go!"

"Raaaaah!"

While the two knights, one tall and one shorter, tore through the enemy, the other knights recovered some of their strength and launched another coordinated lance charge, ripping apart the enemy ranks as they began to close. They might not match those two, but they, too, were warriors among warriors, men who had trained their entire lives.

"Shoulder to shoulder, everyone! Kol! Avik! Don't move forward! Break formation and we're all fucking dead! Archers! Shoot the harpies coming in from the right!"

The knights were not the only ones playing their part on the battlefield. In the middle of the defensive formation, Roden shouted himself hoarse, urging the mercenaries on.

Besides providing a safe place for the knights to rest, the infantry's role was to prevent the enemy from reaching the expedition's reserve warhorses, supplies, and priests. With Roden and the Altoan mercenaries at their core, the left wing's infantry formed a reasonably solid line and held the monsters at bay.

Fortunately, being mounted hid the way Roden's legs shook at the blades swinging all around him.

Just as their combined efforts were close to finishing off the monsters from the marsh, an anguished cry came from behind.

"Retreat! Everyone, retreat!"

Why now, when they were winning? Turning toward the voice, the left wing's soldiers realized the speaker was one of the lords who had been at the front. Missing an arm, he screamed in despair.

"The vanguard's been wiped out! That thing is a monster!"

As though answering his cry, the ogre gave a mighty roar and thrust its two enormous, mace-like fists high into the sky. Beneath those fists, thickly coated in blood and flesh, lay the scattered remains of knights and warhorses, their bodies crushed beyond recognition.