The western front plain had disappeared beneath a mixture of mud, blood, and debris.
There was no longer any way to distinguish allies from enemies.
Bodies from the North and Arkhel lay intertwined among craters torn open by the impacts.
The blood erased every border between the two armies.
At the center of that chaos—
Roven moved between the three ogres.
The twin blades appeared and vanished between monstrous arms and fists capable of shattering fortress walls.
Not a single strike was wasted.
Not a single step was taken without purpose.
Even so...
with every exchange of blows, the space around him grew smaller.
BOOOOOOM!!
One of the ogres' colossal fists crashed down onto the plain.
The earth exploded beneath the impact.
Rocks, mud, and blood were hurled into the air as a thick cloud of dust swallowed the battlefield.
Before the debris had even begun to fall...
Roven was already running along the creature's own forearm.
Every step matched the contraction of the ogre's muscles, while Roven used the angle of its arm to gain speed instead of fighting against it.
When he reached the elbow...
The two blades crossed in opposite trajectories.
SHRIIIIING!
One split the muscle open with a long slash.
The other deepened the wound, severing fibers and tendons.
"GRAAAAAAAH!!"
The creature let out a deep roar.
Its arm lost strength for an instant.
The other came immediately toward him.
The giant fingers closed to seize him.
Roven abandoned the wounded arm before the hand could reach him.
A single burst of force was enough.
His feet slid several meters across the mud.
The movement ended in a short spin.
To recover his view of the entire battlefield.
That was when he noticed the second ogre was already charging from the flank.
Its enormous fist traced a horizontal arc, trying to intercept the spin.
His single visible eye met the creature.
The fist that should have crushed his head drifted a few inches from its original path.
It was enough.
Roven slipped through the opening.
Without interrupting the movement.
The two blades carved an X-shaped slash across the ogre's exposed abdomen.
Blood erupted in a dark curtain.
Without breaking his advance...
Roven slid to the ogre's side.
The creature violently twisted its torso, trying to follow him.
It was exactly what he had expected.
As the giant's weight shifted direction...
The blade in his left hand sliced across the back of its knee.
SHRING!
The right struck the triceps of the arm that still sought to reach him.
SHRING!
Two strikes.
Two compromised joints.
"GRAAAAAAAH!!"
The creature let out a deep roar.
Neither strike was enough to bring it down.
But it was enough to delay its response.
The ogre lost its balance for an instant.
Roven seized the opening.
He propelled himself beyond the creature's reach before it could regain its footing.
His feet slid across the mud.
A short spin repositioned his body away from the creatures once more.
That was when he noticed the third ogre leaping onto his position.
BOOOOOOM!!
Both fists smashed into the ground.
The shockwave split cracks across the plain.
At the moment of impact, however...
Roven had already escaped to the side.
Using the very vibration of the ground to propel an even longer step.
He appeared behind the ogre's left leg.
The first blade sank behind the knee.
SHRING!
It wasn't meant to cut.
It was meant to lock the joint.
"GRAAAAAAAH!!"
The ogre completely lost the support of that leg.
Its balance faltered.
That was the instant Roven needed.
Turning together with the creature's falling motion, the second blade traced an ascending arc.
SHRIIIIING!
The steel sliced almost entirely through its neck.
Roven retreated immediately.
He never remained within the reach of an enemy larger than himself after attacking.
But none of them died.
Their muscle fibers trembled.
The wounds began to close.
New flesh grew over the old.
Tendons reconnected.
The mutilated neck slowly returned to its place.
The mangled arm regained its form.
The pierced knee once again supported the creature's weight.
Within a few seconds...
All three ogres had already regenerated.
Their eyes converged on Roven.
Then they charged again.
As the battle shook the plain once more...
From the North's rear lines...
Zion remained motionless atop his mount.
His eyes followed every movement Roven made in the distance.
The sound of approaching hooves broke the silence.
Tristan brought his horse to a stop beside him.
"All the wounded who could still be pulled back have already left the front."
Tristan kept his eyes on the battlefield.
"The rest..."
A brief pause.
"There was no longer any way to reach them."
Silence remained between them.
Far beyond the lines...
Roven vanished once again beneath another impact.
BOOOOOOM!!
Dust rose once more.
Even from that distance...
it was possible to see the three creatures forcing him to change direction every instant.
Tristan watched the battle for several seconds.
"Even fighting three..."
"He's still holding the line."
His eyes remained on Roven.
"I expected nothing less from one of the Five."
Zion did not answer immediately.
He continued following every movement of the twin blades.
Every dodge.
Every opening created.
Every cut.
Then he spoke.
Calmly.
As though he were merely arranging a thought.
"Lord Roven still controls the rhythm of the battle."
His voice remained serene.
"But that won't last forever."
Tristan turned his eyes toward him.
"Because of the regeneration?"
Zion nodded almost imperceptibly.
"They don't bleed to death."
"They show no fatigue."
"And every wound disappears as though it had never existed."
Zion kept his gaze fixed on the battlefield.
In the distance...
One of the blades pierced an ogre's shoulder.
The creature didn't even slow down.
Another ogre had its knee nearly severed by the slash.
Even so...
It kept advancing.
The third lost part of its neck.
Before its head had even finished falling...
The flesh was already rebuilding itself.
"Every strike Lord Roven delivers is enough to kill any known creature."
A brief pause.
"But none of the creatures before him remain dead long enough for that to matter."
The wind swept across the plain.
"Meanwhile..."
"His body will continue paying the price for every movement."
Tristan remained silent.
Zion continued.
"Muscles wear down."
"Reflexes slow."
"Breathing grows heavier."
"Even the Five of the North have limits."
In the distance...
Two of the ogres advanced toward Roven almost at the same time.
One closed off his front.
The other attacked from the flank.
The twin blades moved without hesitation.
SHRIIIING!
The first strike was deflected.
The second lost its force when it met steel.
Roven spun between the two giants.
He prepared to pass through yet another opening...
When his perception caught the third ogre's intent.
Too late.
BOOOOOOOM!!
The colossal fist emerged from his blind spot.
The twin blades crossed before his body by instinct.
The impact echoed across the entire plain.
Even blocking...
Roven was hurled several meters backward.
His feet tore through the mud.
Deep furrows scarred the ground until he regained his balance.
Tristan's eyes narrowed.
"They... changed their attack."
"Yes."
Zion's answer came immediately.
"At first, they attacked with nothing but brute strength."
"Now they observe."
"And they attack according to patterns."
His eyes remained on the ogres.
"With every exchange of blows..."
"they understand a little more about the way Lord Roven fights."
"Every opening he creates."
"Every distance he prefers to keep."
"Every response to their attacks."
Zion's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Adapting has always been humanity's greatest strength."
"Not even monstrosity was capable of erasing that instinct from them."
Another impact shook the plain.
Roven dodged by mere inches.
Tristan frowned faintly.
"So..."
"The longer this battle lasts..."
Zion finished the sentence without changing his tone.
"The smaller Lord Roven's advantage becomes."
A brief pause.
"Until they stop responding to his movements."
"And begin forcing him to respond to theirs."
Tristan struck the shaft of his spear against his bracer.
Clang.
Clang.
His eyes remained on the battlefield.
"I see you've observed enough."
A brief pause.
"What will our next move be?"
Zion looked away from Roven for the first time.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"From this reserve..."
"Take a hundred Knights of the Order."
"Head immediately to the southern front."
Tristan remained silent for several seconds.
His gaze shifted between Zion and the battle in the distance.
"If anything happens to Lord Roven..."
"There'll be no one left between you and those creatures."
Zion held his gaze.
"I'll handle what I can reach from here..."
"I still can't match you or Ryou when the battle demands brute strength."
His dark brown eyes began to take on a deep blue glow.
"But when it comes to controlling the flow of anima..."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Neither of you surpasses me."
With a calm movement, he reached behind his back.
His fingers wrapped around the ivory-white Longbow.
Its golden tips, engraved like dragon scales, reflected the light of the battlefield as he raised the bow.
His other hand slowly drew an arrow from the quiver.
A blue glow traveled along the shaft until it completely enveloped the tip.
Zion took a single breath.
His gaze remained distant.
As though he had chosen the target long before raising the bow.
One of the ogres pursued Roven closely.
The creature lifted its leg to take another step.
The string drew taut.
TWANG!
The arrow crossed the plain like a blue beam.
BOOOOOOM!!
The projectile pierced through the giant's knee.
Its leg gave way immediately.
The colossal body pitched forward.
Roven seized the opening.
He slid clear of its falling path while the twin blades severed the ankle tendon of the other leg.
The giant crashed heavily onto the ground.
BOOOOOOM!!
Before the other two ogres could react...
Roven had already abandoned that position.
Zion slowly lowered the Longbow.
"Our role now..."
Another arrow already rested between his fingers.
"...is to keep us from losing those who can still win this war."
Tristan's eyes narrowed.
He pulled on the reins.
"Try not to die before nightfall."
Zion's fingers calmly set the new arrow against the string.
"I'm only twenty years old."
A brief pause.
"Dying now would be a waste."
Zion raised the Longbow once more.
"Make sure you keep breathing until nightfall."
A faint smile appeared on Tristan's face.
He raised his spear.
His voice echoed across the rear lines.
"A hundred Knights of the Order!"
The soldiers immediately turned toward him.
"With me!"
"We ride for the southern front!"
The horses set off almost simultaneously.
The cavalry broke from the rear lines toward the south.
Behind them...
Another arrow silently left Zion's Longbow.
TWANG!
The blue shaft streaked across the plain.
Far ahead...
The three ogres had repositioned themselves.
This time, they did not advance in disorder.
One came from Roven's front.
Another from the flank.
The third sealed off his rear.
The three movements fit together perfectly.
Roven realized.
There was no space.
If he retreated...
He would be crushed.
If he advanced...
He would enter the reach of the other two.
His perception caught something else.
A different intent crossed the battlefield.
Fast.
Precise.
BOOOOOOOM!!
The projectile tore through the abdomen of the ogre sealing off his rear.
The creature fell.
At that very instant...
Roven slid his left foot only a few inches through the mud.
His torso leaned just enough to abandon the previous line of attack.
It was the only movement required.
FWHOOOSH!
The arrow passed exactly where his head had been an instant earlier.
The rush of displaced air pushed his hair back for a moment.
Without losing force...
It continued along the same line.
BOOOOOOOM!!
The projectile tore through the abdomen of the ogre blocking his front.
The explosion ripped away a massive chunk of flesh and hurled the creature several meters backward.
For a single instant...
The encirclement ceased to exist.
Before the remaining ogre could react...
Roven had already advanced.
The twin blades flashed.
SHRIIIIING!
One severed the tendons in its ankle.
The other struck the fist of the ogre reaching for him.
Both joints failed at the same time.
Without interrupting the movement...
Roven propelled himself backward before the creature could regenerate.
His feet slid through the mud as he regained his distance.
The two giants struck by the arrow had already begun rebuilding themselves.
Muscle fibers pulsed.
Flesh slowly restored the massive holes left by the shot.
But the formation had been broken.
And while they needed to reorganize the encirclement...
The rhythm of the battle once again returned to Roven's control.
In the distance...
Zion was already setting another arrow against the string.
His eyes never left the battlefield.
Every step Roven took.
Every change in the ogres' stance.
Every shift in the wind.
Everything was being calculated before it even happened.
Nothing escaped Zion's eyes.