The Last Dainv-Chapter 61

The Last Dainv-Chapter 61

Traces of battle littered the meadow everywhere. Broken peasant weapons like pitchforks and shovels. Mounds of thralls scattered throughout torn earth. Deep furrows carved by the knight's blade cut through grass and soil.
Gale picked up one of the pitchforks right beside his feet. The thralls themselves would just abandon them right after turning into a ghoul. He followed the trail of broken peasant tools. It was where he cut their threads connecting them to Elliot.
He stopped, wincing at what was below. Dark blood stains covered the grass. Rachel fell onto the knight's sword here. Squinting at the residue, he used analyze on it.
[Analyzing biological residue...]
[Sample identified: Blood type AB+]
[Blood test results truncated.]
[No vital organ content found in blood.]
[Conclusion: Non-fatal.]
So it was right. Had he seen the grace in his movements? Now it was loud and clear. The knight had struck with no intent to kill. Even throughout all of that chaos, it managed to strike her right through any vitals.
Could he have done that? He was just a little lamb after all.
Walking around the perimeter where they fought, the footprints of Gale and the knight had clearly faded. If it can analyze his own fighting style and also analyze blood that's already darkened, can it analyze and show him what happened?
Gale crouched down, activating the skill while staring at each slash mark and footprint that littered the broken grass.
[Analyzing combat patterns...]
[Knight's movement grid mapped.]
[Attack sequences reconstructed.]
[Tactical analysis in progress...]
A slight numbing feeling enveloped his tongue, touch, and eyes. Data flowed into his mind.
The knight herded him away from the others, precisely positioning its drop point to the maximum point of influence over the battlefield for the single purpose of isolating him.
Each attack seemed random with clear intent to kill. Through the data, none of the strikes seemed random. Knowing now about the Sword Arts, none of those that furrowed along the soil were random. The weight of each strike was precisely calculated to allow him to defend. Every step the knight had taken formed part of a circular pattern that defended the area with Gale trapped at the centre.
[Analyzing combat...]
[Identified 2 main entities.]
[Assigned Entity 1.]
[Recognized Entity 2 as user.]
[Analyzing Entity 1 as primary.]
[Pattern identified: Circular containment strategy.]
The first strike, that overhead slash Gale had barely blocked, wasn't meant to kill. Analysis showed the exact angle of the blade as a hologram. It showed the blade funneling him in one direction. Had he dodged the other way, it would have led to another series of strikes that would funnel him in the specific direction regardless.
"Son of a… " Gale shouted. "Throw her away."
[Strike pattern: 15° offset from lethal trajectory.]
[Secondary strikes: Positioning control.]
Looking back at how the knight had fought in the ship, it made sense. The hologram showed him a different fighting style than the usual. A wide upwards swing to force launch him upwards that failed. A wide sideways cleave aimed at him but cleaved through tens of ghouls at once. Wild swings that weren't wild at all. Every round of swings was different, making it hard for Gale to calculate when the next one was. It was all for show that made their battle look grander than it should've been.
[Attack frequency: 0.8-3.2 second intervals]
[Purpose: Disruption of target's natural combat flow.]
The knight had played him. Those pauses in between attacks kept him on edge, almost as if to emphasize its own insanity. They weren't random, though. The rhythm had done its job, making Gale rely on reaction rather than prediction. It kept him off balance.
"Shit. Fucking knight."
If he had learned to forget orientation, he would have stood a better chance.
The knight had also used the landscape itself. Small rises in the ground, patches of longer grass, scattered debris. All of it meant to suppress Gale's options. From the marks on the soil, it was clearly obvious a linear trail that forced him further and further away until that final moment. The knight had his sword overhead like an executioner doing its job. Its actions were painfully slow.
Was Rachel saving him also planned by the knight?
Gale sighed. All of this because of some stupid tide they wanted him to fight against. They could've just asked. Probably. Actually, probably not. He sighed again.
[Primary objective identified: Isolation.]
[Secondary objective: Force confrontation.]
[Tertiary objective: Minimize casualties.]
He was incomparably young compared to the knight, that's for sure. His experience in comparison wasn't that of a child against an adult. It was like a newborn against a veteran of veterans. Vianne and the knight called a soon to be 18 year old a child. In Earth standards, that's no child. That's a full grown adult!
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
But maybe… to them, to the Dainv, he was young.
A glint of metal caught his eye. Half-buried in the dirt lay a fragment of the knight's armour, knocked loose during their exchange. Gale picked it up, turning it over in his hands.
[Error: Unknown alloy detected]
[Corruption levels: 0.87/MiS]
The metal felt wrong. Deep down, he knew that this thing that ate at the metal shouldn't exist. Within that metal contained the familiar signature of the knight's own essence that fought against the foreign entity.
He dropped the fragment and stepped back, watching as it rolled down the meadow.
[Corruption spread rate: 0.002384 millimetres/day]
Dark inky substance tainted the grass around the fragment. The corruption worked slowly, tainting what it touched. The grass it touched had its leaves turn dark brown, similar to what was inside the dark forest.
Gale walked to where the rift had closed. The air still rippled faintly, ghost images of the portal flickering in and out of existence.
[Analyzing rift residue...]
[Rift stability: 12%]
[Time dilation: Detected. Unstable, cannot be calculated.]
Science, physics, and chemistry were never his strong suits. Those textbooks almost made him fall asleep in class. Time dilation? If he found a way back to Earth, then would he just be gone for months? He'd still need to get his stuff from his room. Ms. Molly would probably nag him about why he disappeared.
The thought alone made a shiver go down his spine. Not another one of those multi-hour long lectures. Would they even know he was gone though? Gale wasn't exactly sure about that one.
Turning away from the remnants, his eyes tracked the path where the convoy marched towards the rift. Scuff marks and broken grass told him everything he needed to know. He didn't even need Analyze to read what happened. Here, a torn piece of fabric snagged on a bush. There, a discarded bone spear, most likely from one of the blue haven survivors. Each detail told its own story.
He paused at a spot where multiple footprints converged. The grass had been trampled flat, forming a rough circle. Signs of a brief rest stop, maybe. Or a moment when someone needed help.
Annett's voice rang from this place. He remembered the sound of her voice throughout the chaos. Each of her shouts directed at everyone to stay together, taking charge while he and Rachel fought to keep the line of defense. The footprints were closely packed together, looking more like a jumbled mess. Regardless, it was a smart move. Harder to pick off stragglers.
The ground told more. Deeper impressions showed where a person fell. Annett's footprint picked up the person while probably still carrying the sick survivor from Blue Haven. The drag of her feet towards the rift was evidence of the fatigue, but she never stopped.
Dried blood dotted the grass nearby. Not much, just drops. The claws of a ghoul had ripped through the grass around the area they ran at. At the tree nearby, the corpse of the ghoul lay with a head smashed open by the impact of being thrown against a rock.
Shell casings glinted on the grass. They were everywhere, telling him that Ollie had remained mobile. He was no longer holding back on ammo after all.
Gale continued backtracking the escape route. Places where grass had been crushed showed where Ollie had positioned himself between the threats and civilians. Empty magazines and dozens of shell casings scattered around higher grass mounds.
Small details jumped out. A torn makeshift cloth ration pack strap where someone had grabbed another person from falling. Scuffed earth where feet had scrambled for leverage on the slope. Smears in the dirt where hands had helped others climb.
Annett's prints appeared regularly beside the stragglers. She was one that would stay with the slowest of members, that's probably why Rachel usually put her in the middle. No one was left behind.
The high ground offered Gale a better view of their overall movement. The convoy's path resembled a river, flowing around obstacles, finding the path of least resistance. But it wasn't chaos. Structure emerged from the pattern.
The ground sloped down toward where the rift had opened. The final stretch. The convoy's tracks showed more purpose here, less fear and more of a dash to the exit. They had smelled safety ahead and found their second wind.
But they hadn't gotten sloppy. Ollie's firing positions continued their regular pattern right up to the rift. No letting guard down, not until the last person was through. He remembered the gunshots while he was fighting the knight. Pot shots directed at the thralls that surrounded Rachel.
Near the rift site, Gale found a child's shoe. Small, worn. He remembered the girl. Hailey. The print beside it showed she'd kept going on one shoe. Probably didn't even slow down. Tough kid.
Gale picked up the shoe, his fingers tracing the worn edges. Something red caught his eye beneath where the shoe had lain. His heart skipped a beat. A small sphere, no bigger than a marble, rolled slightly in the depression left by the footprint.
He bent down and picked it up, recognizing it instantly. Ollie's navigation tool.
"You idiot," Gale whispered, a smile tugging at his lips. "Leaving this behind for me."
Ollie must have dropped it here on purpose. Probably hoping Gale would find it.
[Object identified: Red Marble]
[Object Type: Ether Spatial Navigation]
[Effect: Uses momentum to point to the place where the user wants to go.]
[How to use: Flick upwards. Go in the direction where the red marble drops to.]
[Essence Cost: 0.0001 (Converted from Ether)]
The analysis confirmed what Ollie had already told him about the device. Seeing it spelled out right in front of him, this was basically a life saving device for literally anything he could think of. Water, food, fruits, other people. It would guide the user to where the user desired. It was cheating.
However, Ollie said it cost a car. A car was around 60,000 Canadian. At most, he probably got $50 every month from the orphanage. It would take him forever to save up for one of these.
Goddammit.
After coming back, it probably wouldn't hurt to tell Ollie he lost this marble, right? No. Definitely not. Ollie's been with him through thick and thin. If he wants it back, he'll get it back as long as he asks for it. That's it.
"Thanks, Ollie," he said to the empty air, though hearing him tell him when he's not here felt empty. There was no one in this meadow but him.
He'd pushed Ollie away too, just like the others. Kept his distance even when Ollie tried to joke with him, and Ollie still had left him this gift.
A lifeline.
All 3 of them were competent. There was no doubt about it. Rachel had held the group together and forced this mission upon everyone. Annett's strength and utility kept everyone alive. Without her, they would've been all dead from the monsters that were way out of their level. Ollie had scouted ahead safely and was the one who found the exit rift. Everyone played a part.
All Gale hoped for was that they thought of him the same way. That he played a part in all of it. That he wasn't just a ghost this time.
The marble warmed up in his palm. Its shine still visible between his fingers. It responded to his essence, and it would help him find his way.
"I did it again," he muttered. "I'll try my best… to not push anyone away again."
The marble pulsed. Essence filled. Placing the red marble on top of his thumb, he thought of Elliot, that son of a bitch. He wanted to wipe that crazy smile off that crazy man's face so much. He flicked the marble upwards. The red marble stayed in the air for just a second, spinning, then dropping forwards away from the forest. It pointed to the castle beyond, where the walls were even darker than the night. The clouds beyond looked like eyes that watched the castle, unblinking.
Stand tall, Gale. No more hiding. No more blending. Just go there and make that asshole pay. Maybe even survive in the process.

Chapter 61