Chapter 18: The Greatsword Warrior and the Always Hungry Saint

A warrior wearing a helmet was running.

In the midst of an ongoing battle, he had strayed far from his main force, bearing a heavy responsibility.

A warrior charging across a plain trampled by infantry and siege equipment during a war.

The tall grass, once lush, was torn and cut by the iron boots, and the torn pieces scattered, fluttering in the wind.

This took place in a field battle set in the country of Ishwalda, which had broken into civil war.

Both teams would fight under equal conditions, with no fortresses involved.

The warrior, wearing a helmet adorned with two horns, was the hero of the revolutionary army.

He moved alone toward the enemy lines, carrying only the prestige of the usurper, with no soldiers by his side.

His movement was so peculiar that the archers stationed at the hastily constructed tower of the kingdom’s army on the distant horizon didn’t notice his approach.

With the ability “Phonetic Walk,” Mohe’s mission was to assassinate the player preparing powerful magic in the rear.

“What was their nickname again…?”

As a streamer, the green user was forgettable, so there was no way to remember.

In truth, even if he had remembered, it wouldn’t have made much of an impact.

Not long after, Mohe’s character easily reached the first line of defense set up by the enemy.

The assassination of the mage.

It was originally a task meant for a rogue, but with Parfeccino, the only rogue in the team, dead in the middle of a team fight and waiting to respawn, the main order of the team had made the decision to assassinate the mage and weaken the enemy’s strength.

It was the “Saint’s” command.

Mohe briefly recalled the briefing from the Saint just before the game began.

{“Mohe, could you change one of your sub-abilities?”}

“Eh? Suddenly?”

“Since we have a rough idea of how the enemy will play, I’d like to have a backup plan, just in case.”

“A backup? But I’ve been practicing with my most comfortable sub-ability until now…”

“Hehe.”

“Uhuhu.”

“…Which one should I remove, and which one should I add?”

“Remove ‘Focus at the End’ and add something like ‘Phonetic Walk’.”

“Eh? ‘Phonetic Walk’ suddenly? I’m not a stealth rogue…”

“Haha.”

“Alright, understood.”}

Now, as the game progressed and things reached this point, Mohe could feel a chill run down his spine.

Wasn’t the “Phonetic Walk” exactly what he needed for this situation?

What was with her? It was as if she had predicted this would happen.

“No, this must be a coincidence…”

While muttering this to himself, Mohe noticed the team chat was updated.

[Saint: Break through to the right, there’s a trap ahead.]

Mohe was taken aback, quickly pressing his keyboard to change his position to the objective and typed a reply.

[Mohe: Can you tell me a bit earlier?]

[Saint: I’m busy too.]

Right. The Saint was the main order.

Even now, on Discord for team communication, her orders were still being issued.

But those voices didn’t reach Mohe.

That’s right, Mohe had left the team’s voice chat.

This was also part of the Saint’s strategy.

A strategy, huh.

Could this really be called a strategy?

The voice chat of a game where six players lead a team.

It wasn’t easy to quickly notice that the orders were directed at each individual.

Especially for Mohe.

He had often missed opportunities due to his inability to respond to orders directed at him.

After identifying the problem, the coach couldn’t find a solution, and the Saint casually said,

“I think I can solve it.”

The solution she came up with was…

This.

Mohe was not to participate in the voice chat.

Instead, he would only follow orders typed in the in-game chat.

The Saint, the main order, would assess the battlefield and strategize.

She would deliver the strategy to the team via voice chat through Discord, while issuing commands to Mohe separately through the in-game chat.

At the same time, she would also fulfill the role of a priest, providing buffs and heals to the rest of the team.

Unlike the other teammates, Mohe had taken on the restriction of doing three tasks at once.

Despite this, everything was handled flawlessly, and now even the coach and teammates were cautiously speculating that the Saint might actually be an alien with three brains.

That was enough reminiscing.

Mohe’s feet came to a halt.

They stopped.

It was because an enemy appeared in the distance.

A warrior with a gaunt frame, long hair tied into a ponytail.

A longsword hung from his skeletal wrist.

Just seeing the customization, Mohe could already guess his identity.

It was the longsword warrior, Hase.

Shocked by his sudden appearance, Mohe hid himself and messaged the Saint.

[This is a big problem.]

[Huh?]

[Hase is here. How did he find me?]

[Why is that a problem?]

[Huh?]

[We checked before the game started, right? That character has detection.]

[Then Phonetic Walk is useless.]

[Not useless. It can’t fully detect stealth units, so we’ll have to face them directly.]

[So I’m the decoy?]

[More accurately, it’s a strategy we predicted they would think.]

[Huh?]

[It’s just Hase alone, right?]

[41]

[Just as I thought. I figured he would come out alone instead of sending troops because he doesn’t want to swing his sword around.]

[??]

[It’s fine if you don’t get it. Mohe, your task is already set.]

[What, are you telling me to stall and at least tie up Hase’s feet?]

[No. Win.]

[Huh???????????]

Despite the urgent situation, the Saint’s chat message, with its kind punctuation, was the last thing Mohe received.

Mohe, who had been waiting for a reply, softly sighed when no response came.

The enemy was wielding the same longsword as him.

Just a character holding the same weapon, yet the name Hase and the aura emanating from that customization were putting pressure on Mohe.

“The enemy is Orange 3, damn it…”

He was Green 4. According to the ranks, he could never win against such a formidable opponent.

Since they were both warriors wielding the same weapon, without any type advantage, the outcome would be decided solely by skill.

In other words, he couldn’t win.

Frustrated, Mohe thought of one solution.

If he lost, he could just blame that devilish woman. It’s not my fault, right?

“Forget it!”

The warrior, who had been hiding in the shadows like the night, revealed himself under the blazing sun and charged.

『Baldness is a symbol of vitality: Yes. So, what’s this about now?

Saint: The Saint is loved by animals.

Baldness is a symbol of vitality: This person is bringing in weird settings again.

Saint: Is that so?

Baldness is a symbol of vitality: Just to clarify, I’m not really interested in anything like bestiality. I don’t even want to hear about it.

Saint: Tch.

Baldness is a symbol of vitality: Was that the kind of setting you added for that kind of talk…?』

The first match of the open tournament ended with a victory for my team.

Even though the opposing team fought valiantly by using their wizard to create a significant variable, Mohe, following my strategy, defeated Hase and killed the wizard, sacrificing himself in the process, which led us to victory.

He complained a lot, but he did it well.

If it had been something that shouldn’t have been done, I wouldn’t have asked him to do it.

After the match ended, everyone was taking a break, preparing for the tournament that would resume the next day.

In the brief moment of respite, I found myself walking in a park from long ago.

I just wanted to bask in the sunlight for a while.

And, you know, see if there was something to eat.

…I’m hungry.

From a distance, the image of pigeons pecking at food near a fountain kept lingering in my mind.

I’ve had dog food, but what’s wrong with eating birdseed?

It was a fleeting thought, but I genuinely felt that way, caught in hunger.

Apparently, pigeon roasting is considered a delicacy by some foreign folks. Should I just grab one, kill it, and roast it?

-Wang Wang!

I heard a dog barking.

I wondered if it was an illusion, but soon, a Shiba Inu had come up and settled at my feet.

The panting dog clung to my leg, so I bent down and scooped it up, lifting it under my arms, meeting its eyes.

Was it a Shiba Inu, or a Jindo?

I don’t care, that doesn’t matter.

What mattered was that food had practically come to me on its own.

Just like this, should I have some dog meat soup…?

“Ouch!”

How did it know I was having improper thoughts about it? The creature, too big to be called a dog but still not quite a puppy, scratched my arm with its sharp claws.

The pain hit me all at once, and I snapped back to reality.

If those animal rights activists could read my mind, they’d probably be trying to kill me for the thoughts I was having.

But I’m hungry…

Just as I was thinking that, a girl’s voice suddenly reached my ears.

“Doji!”

The pitch of the voice was somehow familiar.

Thinking back, it was the same voice I had heard when I had been shaking down some people in the convenience store before.

What did she just say?

The girl, having apparently run all the way here, reached me, panting, and, after noticing me, opened her big eyes wide and greeted me.

“Sister, I see you again!”

“What did you just say…?”

“Huh? …Oh. This dog’s name is Doji.”

“…You didn’t name it yourself, did you?”

“Oh, my older sister did.”

“….”

“I just took it out for a walk…! Sister, there’s blood! Are you bleeding?!”

The girl was panicking, but I didn’t really think it was a big deal.

It’s not the first time this has happened.

What made me dizzy more than the faint pain in my arm was the fact that there was someone who actually decided to name a dog “Doji.”

“I bet they’re probably a crypto addict…”

“Huh, how did you know that?”