Chapter 60: The Reason

The longsword warrior is a rarity among armored fighters, for the longsword is a light weapon, and in battle, it is difficult to deliver a fatal blow to the insectoid creatures with it. Thus, unless one has reached the pinnacle of armored combat, no warrior would choose the longsword as their weapon. Yet, when an ordinary armored fighter attains mastery, how could they abandon the weapon they have always used and devote themselves anew to mastering the longsword? Such a shift would waste precious time and energy.

Only someone like Captain Froman, a mercenary who reached the peak of armored combat early in his life and was determined to enhance his strength by any means—accumulating wealth rather than fighting the insectoids, and focusing on battling his own kind—would dedicate himself to perfecting the art of the longsword.

Having absorbed the sphere of knowledge containing Captain Froman’s mastery of the longsword, David naturally inherited all of Froman’s expertise in its use.

“A true genius!” Daley swallowed hard, his voice dry as he spoke.

Earlier, when Myron called David a genius, Daley had remained skeptical. Though he had not become an armored fighter himself, he was still stronger than most common people. He and Jim were alike in this—they lacked the ability to enter the armored combat specialty at the university, but unwilling to give up, they relied on family connections and relentless practice, hoping to become armored fighters through sheer effort.

Though this path was many times more arduous than becoming an armored fighter during university, the military had many such examples to inspire them.

But today, for the first time, Daley felt the true gulf between himself and a real genius—a chasm as vast as that between heaven and earth.

None of the three believed David’s prowess was due merely to the second-level longsword in his hands. Surrounded by more than twenty larvae, without exceptional mastery of the longsword, he would already have been pierced by the spikes they could barely see.

Even if any of the three of them wielded a second-level longsword, they could not have withstood such an onslaught.

The fight became a massacre. David reveled in the thrill of combat; compared to a battle seen through a veil of illusion, real fighting made him feel utterly at ease, his strength unleashed to the fullest.

The larvae were so weak that he even incorporated techniques from various cold weapons into his swordplay.

If only Jim, Daley, and Dequincy had been true armored fighters who could see his movements clearly, they would have noticed David’s unique fighting style.

The long-suppressed urge to kill was released with each strike, making his twin swords even more lethal.

By the time the heavy armored hover vehicle arrived beside them, the battle was over.

Aside from the boulder where Jim and his companions had taken shelter, the area within a dozen meters was stained green with larvae blood; the stench of blood mixed with the foul odor of the creatures.

David emerged from his battle trance and looked at the corpses strewn across the ground, scarcely able to believe it himself.

Before coming to this world, he had been an ordinary man; yet in less than a month here, he could now face heaps of insectoid corpses without flinching.

This was nothing like the day he killed Mr. Ster with a remote sniper cannon; that had been at a distance. This was close combat—though his opponents were not human, it was all the more brutal.

Sensing the Shadow Servant above him in the sky, David knew all this change was thanks to its presence.

He withdrew his thoughts and looked at his twin swords. Their deep blue blades were untouched by the larvae’s green blood; there was no need to clean them. With a practiced motion, he sheathed them across his back.

“Jim, I’m sorry I was late!” Sergeant Boris leapt from the heavy armored hover vehicle, medical kit in hand, apologizing.

It was his responsibility to protect the group, but the larvae’s surprise attack from underground had rendered his heavy machine gun useless. Even when more than twenty larvae had erupted from the earth, the dust and chaos made him hesitate to fire, for fear of hitting his own people.

“Tend to Dequincy’s wounds, quickly!” Jim wasted no time, his voice urgent.

Sergeant Boris applied a tourniquet to the through-and-through wound, then injected a vial of medicine into Dequincy.

“I’ve given Dequincy an antiseptic shot. The poison from the larvae’s spikes won’t affect him for a while. I’ve managed to stop the pain and bleeding, but his wound needs further treatment back at base,” Boris reported, his actions swift—he finished in under a minute.

“I’m fine now. We made quite a haul this time. Quickly, gather the spoils—I can still hold on!” Dequincy, now medicated, forced a smile.

The heavy armored hover vehicle was right beside them, so they could resupply ammunition at any time. With the firepower of two heavy machine guns, they had no reason to fear for their safety.

But what reassured everyone most was David’s presence. Even in a sudden crisis, he could easily slaughter more than twenty larvae.

“Sergeant Boris, help Dequincy onto the vehicle. David, keep watch. Daley and I will gather the spoils,” Jim said, not one to shirk duty. Out here, rules were rules—the spoils must be collected.

Dequincy was injured; his treatment would be paid from the mission’s proceeds, as would any damaged weapons or other expenses.

Safety came first, but now that it was ensured, it was time to recoup their costs.

Daley and Jim, daggers in hand, quickly cut up the larvae corpses, stuffing strips of enhanced flesh into their pockets.

Perhaps David had killed all the larvae in the area, or perhaps his slaughter had frightened the rest away, for not a single new creature appeared as they finished gathering the spoils.

As they prepared to board the vehicle, Myron came running over, the imitation “Death’s Eye” on his shoulder.

“Myron, why didn’t you wait where you were told? Do you not understand the danger?” Jim snapped, his eyes blazing.

“Jim, besides your group, I didn’t see a single larva within a two-kilometer radius!” Myron retorted, unconcerned.

“We’ll talk in the vehicle,” Jim said, waving his hand.

They had only been out for dozens of minutes at most. When they returned to the southern gate, a group of “Ravens” was just driving out.

Once inside the city walls, the group, silent until now, finally breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Something was very strange today,” Jim said, halting everyone’s exit from the vehicle.

“Sergeant Boris, have you ever seen larvae behave like this?” Daley asked from the driver’s seat.

“Never,” Boris replied with certainty.

“Did you notice? After we split from David, the larvae stopped attacking us and went straight for him!” Dequincy, his wound now less painful, began to analyze the situation.

“Yes, I was worried the larvae would climb onto our boulder, but they ignored the three of us,” Daley agreed.

All eyes turned to David, glancing at his outer clothes and recalling what had happened before they left the city.

“There was something wrong with the water splashed on David,” Jim said gravely.

“We’ll find out who did it. To pull such a trick right in front of us!” Daley’s eyes flashed coldly.

“Sergeant Boris, take Dequincy to the medical unit. The rest of us will check the surveillance footage and find the one behind this,” Jim instructed.

Jim, Myron, David, and Daley jumped from the vehicle. Sergeant Boris drove Dequincy away.

Jim called over a soldier and handed him two bags. He didn’t need to worry about processing the enhanced flesh—the army had its own collection points. After deducting rental costs, the remaining credits would be transferred to Jim’s account.

“David, these spoils are almost all yours, but we need to deduct some travel expenses and Dequincy’s medical fees before settling up,” Jim explained once the soldier left, lest David misunderstand.

David nodded. He preferred fresh enhanced flesh, but knew everything had to follow the rules.

Fresh enhanced flesh was more effective than processed, but with so much, he couldn’t use it all at once and some effect would inevitably be lost, so he didn’t mind too much.

Jim was pleased with David’s attitude—powerful, yet not arrogant. Such a man was a friend worth having.