Chapter 25
At dawn, Karl awoke and stepped out of his tent, sword in hand. For him, wielding a sword was as natural as breathing.
"Is that the swordplay of demons?"
The voice came from Simon, who stood beside Karl in the still-dark morning, before the sun had even fully risen.
"This is swordplay used by knights."
"Why do your people kill and pillage us?"
"Beats me. I wouldn’t know."
Simon was at a loss for words at Karl’s reply.
"Are you here to find the Star too?"
"Seems that way."
Karl spoke like it was someone else’s business, and Simon’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. But Karl simply continued his training until he gradually brought it to a close.
The sun was beginning to rise.
Wiping sweat from his brow, Karl approached Simon.
"Do you have any food left?"
Simon looked at him incredulously but eventually led him to a tent.
A simple meal was prepared, and the milk—likely from goats—was so rich and fragrant it took Karl by surprise.
‘Delicious.’
It struck him that the very feeling of enjoying a meal felt foreign.
Moments when food actually tasted good had been rare since he arrived in this world.
‘Why...?’
Something had changed—he could feel it. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
"When do you plan to leave?"
Mama Suna, now seated across from Karl, asked casually.
"Mind if I rest a few more days?"
"Go ahead."
"Mama Suna, our food stores aren’t exactly plentiful…"
"Simon, have you forgotten the ways of the desert? Sheltering a lost traveler brings you honor and prestige."
Simon fell silent at her gentle yet firm words. So for seven days and nights, Karl did nothing but eat, sleep, and train with his sword.
It was the most peaceful week he’d experienced since arriving in this world.
"Why are you teaching me swordsmanship? Aren’t you a child of demons?"
The strange thing was that Karl had spent a good part of that week teaching Simon.
"Just something to pass the time."
Karl smiled. And when Simon smiled back—
Clang clang clang clang!
Urgent bells rang throughout the village.
Simon’s nomadic group numbered around a thousand, with a militia of about a hundred warriors. And Simon was the commander of those warriors.
From the horizon, a massive dust cloud rose.
At a glance, it was a cavalry force—at least a hundred riders, kicking up sand and charging toward the settlement.
"Everyone, take up arms!"
Simon shouted as his warriors armed themselves and formed up outside the village. About 30 were mounted, forming their own desert cavalry.
"Lend me a horse."
Simon glared at Karl in disbelief as the enemy approached.
"Why would I lend a horse to someone who might’ve brought these devils upon us?"
"You truly believe that?"
"…"
After a moment’s silence, Simon tossed him the reins of a horse.
Thundering hooves.
The enemy cavalry had nearly reached the village. Their eyes were bloodshot and frenzied.
"Take everything! Leave nothing behind!"
The one leading the charge screamed.
‘They're skilled killers.’
Their aura wasn’t normal. Karl spurred his horse forward—riding ahead of Simon.
"Karl! What are you doing!?"
Simon screamed.
Even though his warriors were fierce, he knew that facing a cavalry force of that size was a losing battle unless something extraordinary happened.
"Captain! If there’s no other way, let’s charge out and at least take a few of them with us!"
"Alright then! Let’s go! Everyone, charge!"
The desert warriors bellowed and thundered after Karl. He didn’t look back. Charging straight ahead, Karl raised his sword as he met the enemy riders head-on.
‘Lighter…’
The enlightenment he’d recently gained made his entire body feel weightless—not physically, but in a deeper sense.
His Qi, free and fluid, supported his body like the wind.
And in a moment, as qi formed tangibly at his blade’s tip— a storm of blood erupted.
"What the…!?"
Karl cleaved through more than ten enemy riders in a single stroke, breaking their line—leaving the enemy commander watching in shock.
"Squad One! Spread out and surround him—kill him! Squad Two, charge! Squad Three, follow!"
Though bloodthirsty, the enemy were undeniably skilled killers. They quickly dispersed from their tight formation and surrounded Karl.
It was a classic maneuver: isolate the powerful knight and hold him down while the rest swiftly eliminated the weaker forces.
***
"Use slanted dense formations to deflect the charge! Don’t meet them head-on!"
The desert warriors knew how to deal with cavalry—they had experience.
A thicket of spears in front, riders behind—horses charging into it were forced to veer at an angle.
That’s when longer spears stabbed at their flanks. Fallen riders were swarmed by warriors crawling underneath the spears and finished with daggers.
Three enemy cavalrymen were killed this way—but the rest of the cavalry force remained formidable.
"More are coming! Brace yourselves!"
As the warriors steeled themselves, the lead enemy signaled— and their wedge-shaped formation spread wide like wings.
"Ugh…!"
A barrage of crossbow bolts rained down on the outer defenses of the desert formation. Several warriors collapsed clutching wounds. The loss was painful.
"Raise shields! Tighten the formation!"
Now all they could do was endure.
"Hold the line! The rest of you, follow me!"
Simon led his cavalry around the side to flank the enemy. Just then, one of the enemy cavalry units veered aggressively toward the warrior formation.
"They’re cutting the flank!"
Simon struck back by targeting the enemy’s own flanks. As they pressed forward, the enemy cavalry turned their backs and began to flee.
‘Now!’
Chasing fleeing enemies was instinctual—to ensure a cleaner victory and reduce future threats.
But after barely a hundred meters of pursuit, a barrage of crossbow bolts from the side caught them off guard.
"Turn around! That way—!"
Simon shouted and pointed, but it was too late.
The fleeing cavalry turned once more—and charged straight back.
Blood stained the sand.
A third of the desert cavalry had fallen. The enemy still had full strength.
***
‘They’re good… skilled.’
Karl had expected to break their ranks with a single charge. But the enemy's tactics weren’t so easily overcome.
As the cavalry surrounded him with surgical precision, he couldn’t cut down their numbers like before.
Wounds and blood loss dulled his senses.
His eyes scanned the battlefield—Simon and the warriors were fighting desperately.
‘They won’t last much longer…’
The enemy were trained cavalry. No matter how brave the desert warriors were, courage alone couldn’t close the gap.
Seeing this, Karl gripped the reins tightly.
"Let’s do this."
He spurred his horse, and the enemy cavalry surged toward him again. Spears, swords, and maces flew at him from all directions.
He twisted and dodged some attacks, created an opening—and lopped off two riders’ heads.
"Fall back!"
The enemy commander, finally joining the fight, charged in.
As the enemy's sword came flying like a streak of lightning, Karl launched from his horse and flew at the commander.
"What…!?"
An unthinkable move. But if this strike failed, Karl would be isolated.
The commander slashed upward with all his might.
Slice.
"…!"
His eyes wide, the commander’s head hit the ground.
In the same breath, Karl landed back on the saddle of his original horse.
The enemy cavalry froze at the sight of that monstrous display.
"Turn around and run. I won’t chase you."
But no one moved.
Karl, having given them fair warning, rode forward again.
And in that moment, one thought lingered in Karl’s mind—
He still hadn’t even seen the sword that was supposedly the cause of all this.