Chapter 95: Gazing at the Red Sky

Lutz attached a long handle to the newly created axe, creating what is known as a poleaxe.

When examining Dross’s axe closely and unwrapping the leather handle wrap, there were traces of it being cut shorter. Lutz speculated that it had a longer handle during battles.

A poleaxe would be powerful on the battlefield, but it would be inconvenient to carry during a nomadic lifestyle and difficult to use in forests or caves, so they likely shortened it for practicality.

…How did he feel when he cut the handle of the poleaxe and turned it into a hand axe?

I don’t know. It’s all just imagination.

Lutz went back to the riverside and continued swinging the poleaxe.

It took time to get used to the unique balance. The weight, centrifugal force, and sharpness of the axe. If used skillfully, it could become a lethal weapon with a single blow. The long reach was also a significant advantage on the battlefield.

On the first day, Lutz was constantly overwhelmed by the poleaxe. He even stumbled and fell due to being pulled by the centrifugal force of the tip. He deeply felt that it was fortunate to practice in a place where no one was around.

On the second day, he managed to control the unruly axe to some extent, but he lacked confidence in accurately hitting his targets.

He continued practicing for the third and fourth day. The physical exhaustion from swinging it was intense, and his grip strength started to weaken.

However, he also felt a sense of familiarity gradually growing. What used to exhaust him in ten minutes now continued for twenty or thirty minutes. He became so absorbed in training that his hands blistered and calluses formed, and there were times when Claudia scolded him for it.

After about ten days, the poleaxe finally started to listen to him. Although he couldn’t say he had mastered it, he felt like he had stepped a little closer to what Dross and the others had seen.

While practicing, Lutz was considering whether it was time to return to his main work when a man in a dirty robe approached him, wearing a fixed smile on his face.

“Hey, you seem to be full of energy.”

Lutz didn’t recognize his face from the town. He sensed something dangerous about the man’s demeanor and raised the poleaxe, shouting at him.

“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll bash your brains out!”

“Hey hey, no need to be so hostile. I just wanted to talk about martial arts…”

“Before we talk about martial arts, why don’t you explain the bloodstains on your robe?”

The man fell silent for a moment, then his forced smile twisted unnaturally. His laughter turned into something that seemed to ridicule others.

“Well, well, you got me. Surprisingly clever, blacksmith boy.”

Lutz didn’t respond and looked around cautiously. There didn’t seem to be any ambushes nearby.

The man snorted in boredom at Lutz’s unresponsiveness.

“I just thought of something. What if I told you I’m an adventurer, and this blood is from a monster?”

“It still sounds suspicious. I suggest you leave.”

“You really are a boring guy.”

The man sneered and flipped his robe. The thing hanging from his waist was a scabbard, and the handle had a distinct wrapping of thread. When drawn, a blade with a visible pattern appeared. It was undoubtedly a sword.

Lutz didn’t recognize it, and it didn’t seem to be his creation. It was probably the work of the blacksmiths from the Count’s territory. It certainly wouldn’t be cheap. Could he buy it from this shabby-looking man?

No, the bloodstains on the robe were connected to the sword.

“…Did you kill a merchant and take it?”

“If you want it, kill. That’s what the royal family taught me.”

The man answered without remorse. Moreover, he seemed to be enjoying the act of taking things by force.

“I understand everything now. You’re one of the survivors of the Kill Code Squad, or rather, a man who escaped alone.”

“Don’t say bad things about me. I’m desperately trying to survive to take revenge. It’s harder than death itself. Once a person dies, they can’t do anything. Even those strong captains are nothing once they’re dead.”

“They left behind their will. You’re defiling their will.”

“That’s right! That’s it! I can’t stand you bastards who twist the desires of the dead to your advantage!”

The air was filled with a murderous intent that made it tremble. Although twisted, Lutz realized that this man was also a member of the Kill Code Squad.

“I’ll take it back, the death of the captain.”

“There’s nothing to take back. Their desires are being honored by the princess!”

“What can that little girl do? What does she know!?”

“You’re presuming things without knowing the princess’s determination!”

They no longer had words to exchange. The man raised his sword, and Lutz held his poleaxe, creating a reverse situation from before.

After clashing blades a few times, they distanced themselves and stood still, waiting for an opportunity, with their blade tips trembling.

When the strength of the opponents is evenly matched, they sometimes reach a stalemate where neither can make a move to gain the upper hand.

The upper hand meant a counterattack, a move made when the opponent’s slashing posture couldn’t be adjusted. In close combat, gaining the upper hand was considered overwhelmingly advantageous.

Of course, it was all based on being able to respond to the opponent’s movements. If you tried to gain the upper hand against an opponent far superior in skill, you would just stand still and be cut.

They couldn’t keep staring at each other forever. Lutz had the heavier weapon. There was a possibility that fatigue would slow down his movements.

Lutz noticed something strange when he stared into the man’s eyes.

…He’s not looking at my face.

Then where? The edge of the axe? No, a little lower.

Lutz predicted the man’s intention to some extent. He was aiming to cut off the handle of the poleaxe. The handle was made of wood, and if the sword’s blade was skillfully positioned, it might be cut. If that happened, Lutz would undoubtedly lose.

Lutz took a step back, luring the man in.

The man stepped forward and swung his sword downward. If Lutz received it, the handle would be cut, and if he didn’t, he would be hit with a diagonal slash from the shoulder.

Lutz slid the handle slightly shorter and clashed the blades together. Sparks flew, and the sword was cleanly cut in half.

How foolish. The man had a moment of blank thought.

He immediately dropped the sword and tried to grab Lutz. He was a first-rate warrior who didn’t lose his fighting spirit. However, that moment of hesitation was too painful.

Lutz twirled the poleaxe and struck the man’s abdomen with the opposite side, the pommel.

The tip was reinforced with iron and sharpened. The pommel tore through the man’s skin, pierced his flesh, and dealt significant damage to his internal organs.

Coughing up blood, the man bent over, and Lutz mercilessly struck his chin with the removed pommel, as if following up.

The man looked up at the sky. Although it should have been blue, it appeared red and black.

He fell to the ground in an “X” shape and couldn’t even move a finger. Although the wound in his abdomen should have been excruciatingly painful, he only felt a throbbing sensation, pulsating with his heartbeat.

He was going to die. That was the only thing he clearly understood.

“You… won… It’s all thanks to… that weapon. Don’t mistake it for… your skill…”

“I’m a blacksmith. I’m happier to be praised for my weapon rather than my martial skills.”

“You’re a damn unpleasant guy…”

Lutz swung the poleaxe down on the man’s head, splitting it in two like a watermelon.

Blood and brain matter spilled out, and Lutz looked down at the gruesome corpse with cold eyes.

He couldn’t bring himself to neatly sever the head and give it a proper memorial.

He was killing merchants for his own desires. This time it was a different person, but there was no guarantee that Claudia wouldn’t be attacked. That’s how he felt, and he couldn’t forgive someone who acted like a bandit.

Even if he had his own sense of justice or convenience, he couldn’t forgive those who took away the wishes of the dead.

“I understood the feeling of cutting a person with a famous sword. I’ll thank you for that.”

After saying that, Lutz wiped the blood off the axe with the man’s robe and called his leisurely grazing donkey.

The donkey’s relaxed and easygoing face slightly eased Lutz’s mind.

“Do you think humans are foolish?” Lutz asked while gently stroking the donkey’s head, and the donkey replied with a foolish “Buumoo.”

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