It was a scene so unbelievable that it was hard to trust one’s own eyes.
A man was charging forward all by himself.
Countless masses of flesh stood in his way. Each time he approached, blood burst forth, painting a trajectory of crimson.
He crushed, smashed, and sometimes even leaped over the obstacles in his path.
Even as he cleared innumerable hindrances, his speed never faltered.
It was far too impressive for a mere swordsman.
No matter how experienced one became, there were always limits.
Unless they were the monsters known as ‘Masters’, a single individual could not hope to confront an army. Even physical strength and magical power had their limits.
But there was something fundamentally different about this man’s approach.
Every living being possesses the instinct for self-preservation.
Even for a highly skilled martial artist, this remained true. In fact, the higher one’s status, the more adept they were at protecting their own body.
Thus, it was impossible for an individual to face a legion.
Evading and counterattacking against the assaults coming from all directions was the only option. The effort required to keep one’s body intact was immense.
Yet, this man seemed eager to reach his limits.
It appeared as though he didn’t care what happened to his own body.
Blood seeped from his scraped and torn wounds.
His clothes had long since become tattered, and he was drenched in blood, making it impossible to distinguish where he had been injured.
The skilled individuals in the evacuation convoy remained silent.
As they heightened their awareness, their superhuman eyesight came into play. They all watched the man’s reckless charge in unison.
Of course, some were moved by this desperate struggle.
However, the majority felt quite the opposite.
“What a madman…”
It was unclear whether it was an expression of admiration or a lament.
Raymond found himself cursing for the first time in a long while. The scene he had just witnessed made him question his own eyesight.
Is he out of his mind?
This question was shared by everyone observing the man’s actions.
In battle, victory and defeat were not determined by resolve or willpower.
If the world were so simple, everyone would have written their own heroic tales.
At crucial moments, the difference in mental fortitude could determine life or death. After all, the battles of masters often had outcomes decided by the thickness of a piece of paper.
But the foes this man faced were not human.
They were monsters straight out of myth, and they weren’t even a single entity.
Soon, the resurrected corpses would rise.
This meant a legion composed of these flesh masses would form. It was not a scale that could be confronted alone.
It was akin to a suicide attempt.
If someone else were doing this, Raymond might have mocked their audacity. But the issue was that this foolish man was Ian.
He quickly glanced around.
The skilled individuals leading the convoy halted their steps, and soon the refugees also stopped, murmuring amongst themselves.
All they could see was the blood spreading in the distance.
Nevertheless, they quickly sensed the overall situation.
The atmosphere had been too somber.
Someone was challenging an impossible feat.
As this realization struck the refugees, voices began to speculate about the identity of the poor challenger.
They did not even realize that their beloved second young master was in such a dire situation.
It was fortunate that the refugees had not figured out the identity of the man.
In contrast, those who realized who he was immediately reacted.
“Master!”
It was a heartbreaking cry.
The source of this voice was none other than Elsi, who was accompanying Raymond.
She already had her eyes wide open and was on the verge of running out.
It seemed as if she would burst forth at any moment.
Raymond closed his eyes tightly as if he expected this situation.
This situation was no different elsewhere.
“Ian!”
The Lady Virgin Saint shook off Yulen’s hands that held her back and took a step forward.
Yulen also placed her hand on her forehead, looking vexed.
The Lady Virgin Saint’s face showed a worried expression.
It seemed she wanted to rush out immediately, glancing around nervously.
Celin was even ready to sprint with her sword in hand.
The one trying to stop them was the Empire’s administrator, Arthur.
“…Stop!”
The hesitant steps of the women halted in unison.
As their gazes turned to him, Arthur spoke in a bitter voice.
“Are you all out of your minds? You can’t possibly want to join that fight, do you?”
“No, but right now, Master is…!”
“He will return soon anyway.”
Arthur’s words were filled with assurance.
And confidence has a way of being persuasive.
The group’s eyes momentarily turned to him.
“Lord Ian is not a fool. Even though he appears to be rushing towards that monster right now….”
With that, Arthur covertly shifted his gaze somewhere.
A massive body, towering over dozens of meters, was stomping forward.
It seemed rather pleased by the presence of the challenger.
The head, composed of hundreds or thousands of faces, suddenly let out a monstrous roar.
A strong wave of fear washed over Arthur’s eyes.
That grotesque creature alone invoked a terror in the living just by being seen.
It was a primal, instinctual reaction.
Arthur swallowed dryly and continued his words.
“…Soon, he’ll realize the reality.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
It was the sharp retort from the Lady Virgin Saint.
She, who was usually gentle, transformed the moment her beloved man was involved.
A chilling light flickered in her rosy eyes.
She asked Arthur again.
“What if he doesn’t give up and continues to fight?”
“That’s not possible. There’s no reason to throw one’s life away for a fight without a chance of victory.”
Arthur continued, almost pleadingly.
“Instead, we must secure an escape route so that Lord Ian can flee safely. It’s not about abandoning Lord Ian, we need to move more efficiently.”
“…My brother Ian is not the kind of person to do that.”
It was a blunt statement.
Arthur’s gaze followed the speaker. There stood Celin, with her black hair swaying slightly.
She was the one among them who knew Ian best.
“Right now, my brother Ian looks sincere… I don’t think anyone can stop him now.”
“How can you be sure?”
Of course, Arthur did not take Celin’s words lightly.
He wanted to get out of there immediately.
In fact, if Ian weren’t the owner of the Blood Mark, he may have even suggested fleeing.
He was just an ordinary administrator, lacking great ambition or a steadfast heart.
It was hard to maintain composure in such a crisis.
“Lady Haster, can you see Lord Ian’s figure clearly right now?”
“W-well, not really…”
Celin blushed in embarrassment and looked down.
It seemed she was the only one among the group who could not see Ian.
Her abilities were not yet sufficient to capture his figure.
Feeling her inadequacy laid bare for all to see, Celin cast her gaze downward.
In contrast to Celin’s sudden gloom, Arthur let out a sigh of relief.
“No matter how close we are, it’s difficult to guess Lord Ian’s feelings from this distance. If we need opinions, we should ask… Sir Raymond.”
Raymond’s indifferent gaze turned toward Arthur.
He was a formidable being, having reached the status of Archmage.
Naturally, he had the best view of Ian’s struggle among them.
Elsi and the Lady Virgin Saint could only capture a general outline of the scene, but Raymond had a vivid image of Ian’s determined expression.
If the power the Lady Virgin Saint possessed had been magical power rather than divine, it might have been different.
However, the Virgin Saint was specialized in healing and support, and her inherent power was not strong. Even now, she was only able to catch a glimpse of Ian through enhancement spells.
Raymond pondered for a moment, casting his gaze.
Ian had already reduced the distance to the Corpse Giant to less than half of what it originally was.
It was clear he wasn’t in a mood to give up halfway through.
However, there was a strange feeling lingering.
Was he aiming for something?
His fighting style was recklessly bold, and he didn’t have the look of someone who had given up his life.
At this point, Raymond deeply contemplated.
Should he trust in Ian’s strategy or not?
If he chose the former, it would be right to concentrate all available resources immediately.
Conversely, if he chose the latter, it would be more prudent to support Arthur at this juncture.
If this continued, Ian was undoubtedly heading for death.
Raymond was not such a bad person as to watch the death of a young man with a bright future.
But even more than that, he had been through the tribulations of time.
Hope and resolve were far too old-fashioned concerns for him.
They had been forgotten alongside a woman he had truly loved.
And above all, Raymond was a member of the Rainelle Clan.
Count Count Rainelle would not wish to sacrifice precious strength at this point.
Upholding the wishes of the clan head was a noble’s duty.
Even if it meant adding small lies for that purpose.
He internally smiled bitterly and said,
“…It seems he’s charging in out of sheer will. Already, I can see signs of hesitating. It’s better to dispatch a small elite force to secure the escape route.”
What if they didn’t return even after securing the escape route?
That was not worth considering.
He was a man who had lost his territory and was entangled with the Dark Cult.
While his strength could be acknowledged, the Rainelle Clan had no reason to suffer losses if he willingly chose to die.
Raymond’s statement softened the women slightly.
Though they might have accepted him had he been Arthur, the battle-hardened Raymond appeared trustworthy at first glance.
However, it didn’t take long for that atmosphere to flip again.
Wooooooooo-!
The Corpse Giant, which until just now had been moving slowly, unexpectedly broke into a run.
Dozens of flesh masses were crushed beneath it, but the Corpse Giant didn’t care at all.
It merely ran and stopped right in front of Ian.
And then that massive fist came crashing down onto the ground.
It was a scene comparable to a meteorite impact.
The group’s eyes widened in shock.
“…Master!”
With Elsi’s cry, the world shook.
The man was standing alone against the monster of myth.
