Episode 124
They had likely chosen to surround him, expecting that he wouldn’t be able to leave his position with his back against the tree trunk serving as cover while he protected the woman, but to Ezekiel, it was instead an opportunity to disperse their firepower.
He immediately chose one direction and rushed in. If he could drag them into close-quarters combat, he was prepared to give up an arm or a leg.
To keep them from paying attention to Lizan, he had to move as conspicuously as possible. People’s eyes instinctively went toward whatever was moving. Moreover, due to the military nature that emphasized camaraderie, when a comrade was under attack, they would rush in together.
“Urk!”
Thankfully, the spy who had been ambushed shouted, disrupting his comrades’ attention. Perhaps expecting that Ezekiel, renowned as a crack shot, would fire to blow his head off, the bastard flinched and tried to defend his head and heart.
But vital points weren’t limited to the head and heart. Besides, using the rifle to take out the enemy right in front of him was too wasteful.
Ezekiel grabbed his jungle knife and slit the bastard’s throat. Wrapping his forearm around the nape of the enemy as a jet of blood spurted forth, he spun around and planted the bullet he had kept in reserve into the head of the spy behind him who had pulled the trigger aiming at him. The final bullet fired by the dying enemy had been fairly well-aimed. A heavy impact struck his forearm once more.
Bang! Bang! Two gunshots rang out in succession. It was Levion and his men firing to exploit the opening. However, both shots embedded themselves in the dead spy’s body.
“Drop the rifle!”
Judging that shooting no longer had any meaning against Ezekiel, who was using the dead comrade as cover, Levion and the remaining spy drew their knives and lunged.
Ezekiel immediately threw aside the corpse and met them head-on. He blocked Levion’s knife with the rifle barrel and slit the other enemy’s throat with his jungle knife. Since he had to conserve time and stamina, his hand speed grew even more relentless.
Levion’s face twisted at having all three of his subordinates slaughtered in an instant.
“The moment you hold a weapon, you’re no different from a vengeful spirit, you.”
Screech. Levion’s blade scraped against the steel barrel, letting out a chilling shriek. The weapons clashed with taut force and held for a moment, then the knife instantly shifted trajectory and came in aiming for the side. Ezekiel parried with his jungle knife. Clang! Sparks flew.
“Kuh!”
Ezekiel held the upper hand in strength.
Levion gritted his teeth and put strength into his forearms. Because of the gunshot wound to his shoulder, his arm kept losing strength. Each time the blades clashed, the hastily treated wound seemed to reopen, judging by how it grew wet.
If one tallied all the grazes and hits from blades and bullets he had taken until now, the Major was definitely more seriously injured—to the extent that the smell of blood was still overwhelming—so why did he seem completely unfazed?
The nightmare of those past days gradually came back to life—when he had been chosen as the leader to guide the spies across the border, only to be caught by Ezekiel and forced into an unexpected bloodbath.
Regret flooded him inwardly.
Should he have just captured the woman and crossed the border first?
Had he been too greedy, trying to catch a big fish to establish merit and save face?
Was Major Valdemara truly unbothered, or was he enduring because he had to appear unbothered?
Was love—was that woman—truly of such tremendous importance?
By the way, where had that woman gone? Because Ezekiel had stepped forward and so thoroughly dazzled the eyes, the woman’s presence had faded; and with her hiding like a mole, she was even less noticeable.
What was that woman doing?
Levion’s eyes, which had been glancing sideways searching for the woman, flashed with a strange gleam for an instant.
Lizan didn’t know how the battle was progressing.
During the several gunshots, Lizan struggled not to panic. She had wanted to watch, but she didn’t think she could endure the terrifying trajectories of guns and blades, the perilous scenes of flowing blood, with a clear mind, so she endured and endured with her face turned away.
She wished for the shootout to end as soon as possible, and for a stray bullet not to strike him.
But now that the noisy gunfire had subsided as she wished, not knowing what was happening was even more suffocating.
She had heard that human life was surprisingly resilient and didn’t break easily, but experiencing it firsthand, a human was a being who could die somewhere, at some time, somehow. She had also learned for the first time today that when people died, they usually couldn’t even let out a scream.
The two men scuffled back and forth, making the ground thump with their struggle. It was around the time she was pressing her cheek to the dirt floor, trying to suppress her racing heart.
Suddenly, her hair was roughly grabbed and pulled, and her vision spun.
“I simply don’t understand military men. Is it because they live huddled together with other men? They don’t bother using their heads and always resort to showing off their strength. I thought that Levion bastard was unusually smooth for a soldier, but I suppose a soldier is still a soldier.”
It hurt so much that tears sprang to her eyes. Lizan tried to twist her head free from Akenaus’s grip but failed.
“Come along. You’re coming with me. While those two are tied down fighting each other.”
Akenaus threatened in a low voice.
“Don’t even think of resisting needlessly. Even if I’m not a soldier, someone like you is no problem.”
The man’s grip was savage. He had wound her long hair around his fist to ensure she couldn’t escape.
A splitting headache rang through her skull. Lizan scratched at the dirt floor with all ten fingers, struggling not to be dragged away.
“This girl’s particularly insolent to me. You’ve got a rotten disposition. Do you think I’m easy?”
Akenaus kicked her back with dull thuds. Lizan gritted her teeth and endured the raining blows. She wished she had at least a dagger on her, but unfortunately she had nothing in her hands. A rifle had fallen near the dead soldiers, but it was out of her reach.
No matter how delicate he looked, a man was still a man. Once Akenaus put his mind to using force, Lizan could only be helplessly tossed about.
Her strength to endure was gone. It was the moment when Lizan, dragged several steps by Akenaus, steeled herself for the end and turned to look at Ezekiel.
She locked eyes with Ezekiel in midair, who had belatedly realized her peril.
Don’t come.
Lizan shook her head urgently.
Ezekiel shouldn’t worry about her. He should deal with the spies of Davis threatening him first. He had followed her to the north, watched over her safety all this time, and saved her from being dragged away by spies. That man had truly done enough. No, he had done his best. So what came after was simply her fate.
But at the crossroads of choice, Ezekiel did not hesitate.
“Close your eyes, Lizan!”
He grabbed the jungle knife, his only remaining weapon, and threw it with all his might.
The gleaming blade traced a straight trajectory through the air. Lizan squeezed her eyes shut.
Thud. A dull impact sounded. At the same time, Akenaus’s crushing grip on her hair loosened.
It wasn’t a thwack.
Could such a sound really come from a person’s face?
It was somehow an incomprehensible type of impact sound. The question that flashed through her mind made her open her eyes, ignoring Ezekiel’s warning.
The moment she raised her head and looked ahead, she was so startled that she staggered and nearly collapsed. The jungle knife was lodged crookedly in the center of Akenaus’s face—thrown with tremendous force. The blade that split his eyelids crushed the bridge of his nose and continued to his cheek. He had targeted the vital points of the face precisely to achieve a flawless effect with a single opportunity.
The unexpected blow Ezekiel had delivered stripped Akenaus of everything he cherished. His beautiful face, and with it, both his eyes.
Akenaus, eyes and mouth gaping wide in shock, slowly crumpled. The man who had inflicted a long, horrific nightmare upon Lizan perished in a ghastly state.
She had survived.
But Lizan could not feel relief.
She had survived, but it was not the end. Faced with her peril, Ezekiel had thrown away the only weapon in his hands.
With hair cascading down to obscure her vision, Lizan roughly pushed it aside and, still seated, fumbled against the ground to turn herself around.
— Ah.
— Ah…….
Lizan parted her lips blankly.
She wanted to scream that he mustn’t, that she had to shout, but her choked throat still showed no sign of bursting open.
Levion plunged his knife deep into Ezekiel’s abdomen. The scene flowed by terribly slowly.
She screamed silently.
“Finally.”
In a voice filled with rapture, Levion pulled at the corners of his mouth. He had intended to smile, but his face, drenched with blood and sweat, became an expression closer to a twisted grimace.
“I’ve finally won, haven’t I? I’ve won.”
He pulled out the knife. The war hero’s hot, fresh blood thoroughly soaked his hand.
“See, what was the point of throwing your life away for a woman like that?”
Had he gone blind and lost his mind as well? Was this man truly the officer who had commanded the king’s army? It was a pathetic, foolish choice.
He would never have done such a thing. Perhaps this man, too, regretted it the moment he threw the jungle knife.
With such speculation, Levion looked up at Ezekiel.
“……He’s smiling?”
He’s laughing? At this situation?
Even with his death before his eyes, the man wore an incomparably serene face. Levion didn’t feel like he had won, even though he had won. He thrust the knife roughly into Ezekiel’s stomach once more, piercing through the firm muscles.
“A war hero is nothing special either. No one would have expected such a miserable end. Isn’t that right?”
Mocking him, Levion cheerfully pondered how to prove Ezekiel’s death to his homeland. Honestly, he had no confidence in dragging a corpse larger and bigger-built than himself over this mountain.
Wouldn’t it be better to just cut off that neck and carry it?
Then the mistake of losing all his subordinates would disappear, and only merit would remain……
It was the moment he had been briefly immersed in anticipation, aiming for Ezekiel’s nape.