It was the battle destined to be the final and most cataclysmic chapter of the civil strife tearing through the Bestia Empire.
At the epicenter of the conflict, Gurgast brandished his twin battle axes with wild abandon, hacking through the ranks of the Subjugation Army. Every soldier within reach was cut down. Though he had already reached the status of an elder, his stamina remained inexhaustible; he rampaged with a savage power that could only be described as a localized gale.
"Oraaa! What's the matter? What happened to the vaunted Subjugation Army?! How is it that a single old man has you lot so completely helpless?!"
As he bellowed, he brought a battle axe down in a crushing arc, bisecting a soldier clad in leather armor. This was no surgical, elegant stroke of the sort Rei favored; the soldier was quite literally hacked apart as his life was snuffed out.
"General, General! It’s hard to take you seriously when you call yourself a 'feeble old man.' No one’s buying it... hup!"
One of Gurgast's subordinates shouted as he swung his halberd.
"Gyahahahaha! He’s right! If the Boss is an old man, then the world must be crawling with monsters!"
Another subordinate nearby, overhearing the exchange, swung his scimitar and sent a soldier’s head flying.
What was unfolding was an absolute massacre. However, unlike a typical slaughter, the side being decimated was the one with the superior numbers.
In terms of sheer manpower, the Subjugation Army was overwhelmingly larger and better coordinated. Yet, despite these advantages, they were losing the engagement on every front. They weren't just being pushed back; they were being systematically dismantled. The soldiers felt a chilling sensation—the realization that they had become the prey in someone else's hunt.
"Why?! How are we being pushed back like this?! They aren't even coordinating—they’re just fighting however they damn well please! Why can't we stop them?!"
"Because you're weak. It’s as simple as that!"
Gurgast’s right battle axe silenced the screaming soldier, cutting him in two with a single blow. Even though they were technically fellow citizens of the Bestia Empire, he didn't show a flicker of hesitation.
He scanned the battlefield, his lips curling into a predatory arc as he watched his men enjoy themselves. To an outsider, they looked like a band of thieves, and that assessment wasn't entirely inaccurate. The unit led by Gurgast was composed of individuals who ignored traditional coordination, preferring the thrill of individual combat.
Still, they maintained a shred of discipline. They ceased their attacks on those who surrendered, taking them as prisoners instead. Of course, those who tried to abuse this mercy by feigning surrender to launch a surprise attack were dealt with swiftly—their heads severed, torsos cleaved, or skulls crushed.
"Oraaa! Put some spirit into it! I’ve got no use for subordinates who let the enemy out-hustle them!"
His roar—or perhaps his scream—was punctuated by a strike that knocked a longsword out of a defender's hands. His other battle axe followed immediately, pulping the soldier's head.
"Boss! We’ve drifted away from Lady Vihera and her group! Should we wait for them?!"
"I don't care! Vihera will find her way to us soon enough! And stop calling me 'Boss'! I'm not a thief!"
Caught in the heat of the moment, Gurgast spoke the name of the princess he once served without any honorifics. He swung his battle axes again, his first strike parrying the tip of a cavalry spear and his second severing the legs of the horse. The rider tumbled to the dirt, but before he could even attempt to regain his footing, Gurgast’s boot came down, carelessly crushing his neck.
"Hmph. Trying to use the momentum of a cavalry charge in a congested mess like this? Idiots."
He spat on the ground and began searching for his next target when a voice called out.
"I think that’s quite enough. I can’t have you thinning our ranks any further, or I’ll have no way to apologize to His Highness Cabajid."
A figure emerged from the chaos, clad in leather armor designed for maximum mobility. It was clearly fashioned from the hide of a high-rank monster, far superior to anything used by the common infantry. He held a magic sword, not a standard blade, and his posture was that of a seasoned warrior of renown.
Gurgast narrowed his eyes, feeling a sense of recognition. After a moment, the name surfaced.
"You're Blatta, if I remember correctly?"
Blatta was a prominent figure within the First Prince Faction, a skilled combatant known for his flamboyant style. Gurgast had been slow to place him only because he had spent several years secluded in his own lands after Vihera fled the Bestia Empire.
Rumored to be an eccentric, Gurgast never visited the Imperial Capital. He had been content to seek out conflict within his own borders. Ironically, this had made Count Obrisin's Territory one of the safest regions inside the Bestia Empire; Gurgast and his men used every bandit and thief they found as "test-cutting" practice to keep their skills sharp.
Gurgast was a battle maniac, but he found no joy in bullying the weak. He also had no taste for luxury, keeping taxes significantly lower than those of his fellow nobles. Furthermore, his obsession with combat led him to provide generous subsidies to blacksmiths and weapon shops. As a result, his territory prospered and attracted people, which was precisely why Mercurio and Theoreme had chosen it as their base of operations for the civil strife.
"Yeah. I don't need to ask who you are; your reputation precedes you. But being famous doesn't give you the right to slaughter my men."
Blatta pointed his magic sword tip toward Gurgast. A thin veil of water began to swirl around the blade.
"A magic sword that manipulates water, huh? Annoying... but that's all it is!"
Gurgast didn't waste another breath. He lunged forward, battle axes gripped tight.
"Uooooooo!"
His right axe swung in a devastating arc. Blatta caught the blow with his magic sword, and at the point of impact, water began to slide up the axe handle toward Gurgast's hands.
"Hup!"
With a sharp grunt, Gurgast snapped his arm, the sudden vibration scattering the water before it could touch him.
"Tch. Impressive!"
"Did you think you could beat me with such petty tricks?!"
Gurgast unleashed a flurry of strikes, staggering the timing of his left and right axes to make them nearly impossible to read. Though Blatta held a magic sword, it wasn't durable enough to engage in a prolonged, head-on clashing match with heavy axes. The enchantment that allowed it to manipulate water seemingly came at the cost of its physical structural integrity. While still sturdier than a common sword when infused with magic power, it had its limits.
"Take this!"
Blatta lunged. The speed of the thrust was incredible. Gurgast was forced to put everything he had into parrying the blade upward with one of his axes.
However, that parry was exactly what Blatta had intended.
"Just as I predicted!"
Water surged from the magic sword tip, coalescing into a massive water ball. With the sphere of liquid hovering at the end of his sword, the weapon looked less like a blade and more like a liquid hammer. Realizing that his sword would lose a contest of strength against the axes, Blatta had used his magic power to weaponize pure mass.
The water ball, nearly a meter in diameter, was brought crashing down toward Gurgast. A sphere of water that size carried immense weight. To Blatta, the weight was irrelevant because the magic sword allowed him to manipulate its mass effortlessly. If the strike landed, it would inflict catastrophic damage, even on a veteran warrior like Gurgast.
The keyword, however, was if.
"You think an attack that sluggish will work on me?!"
Gurgast's voice thundered as he swung both axes simultaneously. With perfect precision and timing, he shattered the falling water ball. In that split second, he saw a victory smile ghost across Blatta’s lips.
Unfortunately for Blatta, while Gurgast could see the smile on his face, Blatta could not see the grin hidden beneath Gurgast's beard. Both men had viewed their exchange as a mere prelude to their true finishing move—but knowing whether the opponent realized that was the difference between life and death.
"Gaaaaaaaaa!"
"Uoooooooooo!"
The two warriors unleashed their sure-kill strikes in tandem.
"...Imposs...ible... I... I was... overpowered? I fled from Crimson... I abandoned my friends just to survive... I sought power at any cost..."
"Seeking your strength in others was your downfall. True strength belongs to oneself alone."
Gurgast stood with his axes buried deep—one in Blatta’s right flank, the other in his left shoulder. He stared into Blatta's eyes as he spoke. At Gurgast's own throat, the blade of the water magic sword had stopped just a hair’s breadth from his skin.
A fraction of a second. That was all that had separated them, but it was enough to decide the outcome.
"Da...mn..."
Blatta reached his limit. He whispered his final protest and collapsed. As the water magic sword clattered to the blood-stained earth, Gurgast let out a short, mocking laugh.
"Hmph. That’s what you get for relying on a magic sword instead of your own damn arms. ...Hey! Get over here! Take this guy to the Rear Unit and get him patched up. He's a prisoner."
"Whoa, Boss? You actually let him live?"
"He’s naive, but he’s got potential. ...And stop calling me Boss."
Gurgast sheathed one axe, pulled a potion from his belt pouch, and carelessly poured it over the unconscious Blatta.
"It’s rare to see the Boss take a shine to someone like that."
"It’s a whim. He has talent. With more experience, he might actually be worth fighting one day. ...Now, I’m telling you for the last time: stop with the 'Boss' crap!"
Gurgast looked genuinely annoyed, but his subordinate simply grinned.
"Understood! I'll have him at the Rear Unit in a flash, Boss!"
"...Sigh. Fine. Just get him out of here."
Realizing his protests were falling on deaf ears, Gurgast sighed and gestured toward the rear with his axe. The man hoisted the unconscious Blatta over his shoulder and vanished into the fray.
"Honestly. ...But still... that wasn't a bad fight."
Despite the irritation regarding his title, Gurgast wore a ferocious, satisfied smile. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed such a fulfilling bout. He looked around at the ongoing chaos, his excitement reaching a fever pitch as he gripped his battle axes.
"Now then... I need to do something about this boiling blood! Who else wants a piece of me?!"
He lunged toward a nearby Subjugation Army Soldier. The soldier, who had been trying to find an opening to attack one of Gurgast's men, thrust his spear out in a blind panic as the personification of death bore down on him. A spear was a logical choice for keeping an opponent at bay, but against a man like Gurgast who charged with a demonic grin and twin axes, it was utterly insufficient.
If the soldier had possessed elite skill, perhaps it would have been different. But a man with that level of talent wouldn't have been a common grunt, and against Gurgast, he never stood a chance.
"Don't try those cowardly back-stabbing tricks on my watch!"
With a roar, Gurgast’s axe sliced through the soldier diagonally, sending a spray of blood into the air. In the context of a frantic battlefield, the scent of copper and the sight of gore were nothing out of the ordinary.
With Blatta—one of the strongest combatants in the sector—captured, the tide of the local engagement shifted decisively in favor of the Mercurio Army.