Chapter 47 : Duel Between Commanders

Chapter 47: Duel Between Commanders

“Is this what they call the difference in caliber?”

Haarun spouted nonsense that didn’t make any sense.

“You really fought well. But you can’t defeat me.”

He raised his hand and casually gestured toward his army.

“Look. I’m a king. But you, what are you?”

I suddenly grew curious.

A king?

That word had always been far too heavy for me to bear. But what did it mean to that man?

He kept rambling on.

“A king doesn’t walk alone. You can’t go far alone. Even if you’re a Grandmaster, if you face a mountain, you’ll have to turn back. But a king is different. If he wills it, he can pierce through even that mountain and race straight ahead.”

What did he mean by that?

I unraveled his pompous nonsense to confirm it for myself.

“So what you’re saying is, you don’t like one-on-one fights, right? You’ll wear me out with your subordinates first, then come in and land the stylish finishing blow yourself? Am I right?”

Why say it in such a roundabout way?

Haarun laughed.

“If you only look at the situation right now, yes.”

Was that the signal?

Clatter.

Ten of his ‘royal’ guards, standing behind him, urged their horses forward.

They were all High-grade Experts — formidable men, no doubt…

‘He’s throwing his personal guards at me as bait?’

I couldn’t understand it at all.

Did that bastard… see his own vassals as nothing more than convenient tools?

At Haarun’s command, the ten guards charged.

Honestly, they weren’t much of a burden.

‘A sly bastard….’

The real problem was Haarun himself, sneaking closer behind the guards.

The moment my hands faltered, his cavalry lance would be aiming for me.

But still,

‘It’s not like I didn’t expect this.’

I loosened my shoulders and waist, then tightened my grip on the cavalry lance.

From the start, when I charged at an entire unit alone, I hadn’t been expecting a fair one-on-one fight.

I dug my heels into the horse.

Clatter!

The horse pierced through the wind as it accelerated in an instant.

Squelch!

I thrust my cavalry lance into the chest of the leading guard and flung him away.

My forearm bulged with strength.

It wasn’t a difficult move — all I had to do was pour out my aura — but I deliberately conserved it.

Because right behind them was Haarun, radiating an aura even more monstrous than that vampire, Kxias.

I dodged, stabbed left, swung right.

My muscles heated up in an instant.

When I had knocked down three guards like that—

Boom!

With a thunderous sound, Haarun, behind them, surged forward, as if folding the ground beneath his feet to charge straight at me.

The timing was utterly unexpected.

He had clearly been blocked off by the guards, but in the blink of an eye, he tore open a faint path and unleashed a supersonic assault.

Haarun’s aura surged into his Ailun White Horse, scattering a faint golden light in every direction.

I couldn’t help but click my tongue.

‘A divine beast, truly a divine beast.’

For a mere animal to surpass the speed of my charge technique, [Tempest]…

A hollow laugh slipped out at the absurdity, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Haarun’s cavalry lance was already right in front of me…!

Claaang—!

“You blocked it?”

Haarun was shocked, and—

“…How are you this fast?”

—so was I.

Even with the Stage of Sword Support, I had only barely managed to block it?

It was the first time something like this had happened.

Clang-clang-clang!

Chaaang!

In the blink of an eye, countless exchanges of strikes flashed between Haarun and me.

My deep blue aura and Haarun’s faint golden aura shattered and sparkled like fireworks.

A chill shot down my spine.

‘I’m… being pushed back?’

Even using Sword Support, I couldn’t pierce Haarun’s guard. No, worse — my own guard was trembling precariously.

But Haarun, too, seemed surprised.

“…Seeing it with my own eyes, it’s even stranger. How are you moving like that? From the looks of it, you haven’t even gone through Transcendence.”

Transcendence!

So he had indeed done it.

It was also called Rebirth of the Flesh.

When a Swordmaster reached the pinnacle, the overflowing aura would transform the body itself.

Swordmasters who underwent it were often said to have “shed their skin.”

It was a realm akin to the gateway toward becoming a Grandmaster.

‘So after Transcendence, you become this strong?’

It wasn’t like his sword was moving by itself, like mine…

Reaction speed that converged on zero,

movements that seemed to ignore inertia—

‘So aura could achieve even this….’

And then—

Kwah-boom!

Crash!

That utterly absurdly powerful Aura Blade.

Each time they clashed, my Aura Blade shattered.

The fragments sliced me in several places.

‘I really am being pushed back.’

Even the cavalry lance I held — not an ordinary lance, but an ancient armament retrieved from the ‘Tomb of Glory’ —

was ringing zhiiing, zhiiing, straining as if it would snap at any moment.

“Hah, so I couldn’t finish it. Your Aura Blade is really strange. Its density isn’t high… so how is it so sharp?”

It was clear that I was being overwhelmed, yet—

Haarun clicked his tongue and stepped back.

“This isn’t any fun. Let’s try again.”

He withdrew, and the royal guards who had been waiting immediately pressed in to attack me again.

“…Hah?”

He retreated?

And sent his guards in again?

A hollow laugh escaped me.

“What the hell are you?”

“What about it?”

Haarun grinned annoyingly.

“So you’re saying you don’t want a fight where we test each other’s limits, trading blows until the end? You just want the kind of fun fight where you rush in and kill in one sweep?”

“You’ve got it.”

I was dumbfounded.

“Are you even a warrior?”

“Nope. I’m a king.”

“What kind of king fights like this?”

My insides boiled.

I swallowed down the rising irritation and glanced back.

The battlefield raged fiercely behind me, where my younger siblings and vassals were fighting. I wanted nothing more than to tear this ridiculous bastard Haarun apart quickly and rejoin them, but with him fighting like this, it was clear it would take time.

“A king is not someone who sacrifices his subordinates. A king leads and protects them.”

“You’re wrong. That’s why you’ll lose.”

Haarun, refusing to back down even in words until the very end.

Fine. What use were words? I would prove it by crushing him with sheer strength.

I clenched my teeth and raised my lance high. One last time, I cast a glance over the raging battlefield.

Until the moment I took this bastard’s head,

please, all of you — hold out…!

*         *         *

“Keuhhuk!”

Katrina’s orange hair scattered into the air.

Blood was smeared all over her, blotchy and thick.

The blood she had just spat now dyed the horse’s mane and her chest anew.

“Woman. Are you not even afraid of dying?”

Barkan felt a sense of curiosity toward the warrior before him.

The feeling was unfamiliar.

At first, he had only enjoyed her because she was a toy that didn’t break easily, but now he found it fascinating.

“That last deflection of my blade. If your timing had been even a bit slower, your head would have flown.”

Katrina was gambling endlessly with her life as the wager.

It was as if she had five lives to spend.

That was why she, a Peak Expert, was still able to hold on.

“Afraid, you say?”

Katrina spat out a bloody lump with a ptooey! and grinned.

“In the past, I would’ve been afraid.”

Back then, she feared dying first, leaving her siblings behind. She had to protect them. In Ransen’s stead.

“But now, I’m not afraid at all.”

“Why not?”

“Why else, you idiot? Because Ransen oppa came back!”

Ransen was here. That meant there was no need to worry about her siblings.

Now, all Katrina wanted was to fight to her heart’s content.

She no longer cared if a mistake led to a meaningless death — Ransen had already engraved those lessons into her body.

“Hyaah!”

Katrina spurred her horse forward with a sudden charge.

“Hah, really.”

A hollow chuckle slipped from Barkan’s lips, but a deep smile clung to them as well.

Because it was the first time.

The first time he faced a warrior who didn’t just scramble to block, but instead charged at him first.

*         *         *

“That idiot. All the better for me.”

Rivera drew back his bowstring again and slipped back into the crowd of soldiers.

“Stay out of it! He’s mine to kill alone!”

Far off, Jedark was rampaging.

So this was the so-called Jedark the Gambler — a complete madman.

‘So he really thinks this whole situation is a game, huh?’

That man Jedark was playing by himself in the middle of a war.

To bring down Rivera alone.

To cut through every obstruction by himself and sever his neck — that was the “duel” Jedark had decided upon.

Rivera couldn’t stop a bitter laugh from rising.

‘If he had just used the surrounding warriors, pushing forward in a wedge formation…’

That really would have been troublesome.

But since he insisted on doing everything alone—

‘Thanks. Truly, thank you.’

Creak.

Rivera nocked another arrow and drew the bowstring.

‘Thanks to you, I’ll be able to prove myself to my lord.’

Thwung!

He twisted the bowstring, imparting a spin to the arrow.

It didn’t fly straight. Instead, the arrow turned sideways in the air, carving a wide arc as it curved between the soldiers.

Thunk! Thunk! Thwutunk!

From left to right, right to left, up to down, down to up — the arrows bent and stretched, each one silent as an assassin, lunging suddenly for Jedark’s vital points.

Pik! Piiik!

Crash!

But they didn’t land.

Even if he was insane, Jedark’s skill was real. He dodged or deflected every single one.

And the ones he couldn’t avoid, he took with the barest of scratches, minimizing the damage as he pressed forward.

“That’s it! That’s it! Come at me! I’m stronger!”

Grinning wide enough to split his cheeks, he kept butchering soldiers and pushing closer.

“Come on! Come on! I’m right here now!”

Rivera loosed arrow after arrow while slipping between the soldiers, but before long, Jedark had closed the distance.

Drenched head to toe in blood, Jedark grinned ferociously and launched his final leap.

“Move! Get out of the way!”

The formation had already been thrown into chaos because of him.

Rivera frowned.

He wanted to protect every one of the soldiers, but he knew his own limits — it was impossible.

‘My lord. Even so, I’ll make sure I finish this bastard here!’

Twung, thwung, twung!

Rivera ducked into the ranks of soldiers and, in just a breath, fired off more than five arrows.

And his last shot, he aimed carefully at the sky.

Screeech!

Thunk!

An arrow’s power only grew stronger the closer the target was.

At this range, even Jedark had no choice but to accept the hit.

“Grrhh…!”

Jedark blocked Rivera’s arrow with his left forearm, then immediately split open a soldier right before him.

Splaash!

With the spray of blood, Rivera’s form was revealed, crouched behind.

“Got you!”

What did a bowman have left once the distance was gone?

Jedark was certain the only answer was death, and he lunged forward with a great step.

“You’ve got it completely wrong…”

Baaam!

Rivera, instead of retreating, leapt forward. He soared diagonally past Jedark, nocking his bow midair.

“What I’m best at, in fact, is close-range rapid fire.”

Papapang!

Unlike the silent arrows he had fired until now, these new ones all burst forth with sharp cracks like splitting leather drums.

A rapid-fire barrage focused solely on power.

Clang! Crack! Crunch!

Jedark deflected, dodged, and even caught the arrows in his hands and teeth, snapping them apart.

His instincts were like those of a beast.

Reaching toward Rivera as he passed overhead, Jedark’s eyes gleamed with ecstasy.

No matter what tricks that archer tried, his hand would reach him first.

“I’ve won!”

“Nope, you haven’t.”

Swooosh!

One arrow.

The very arrow Rivera had shot earlier, high into the sky for a long arc, returned from its journey and dropped right in front of him at that exact moment.

Which meant—right on Jedark’s crown.

Crunch!

The arrowhead pierced through the underside of Jedark’s jaw and jutted out.

Because the close-range rapid fire had made such a noisy distraction, Jedark hadn’t noticed that arrow’s approach — and so, with his eyes still wide open, he became a corpse.

Thud.

He collapsed forward.

Rivera looked down at him and drew another arrow.

“My close-range rapid fire isn’t all that great, honestly. My nickname once was ‘the Trickster,’ after all.”

Spin—

Twisting an arrow around the back of his hand, Rivera loosed rapid shots through the broken formation of his allies.

Each arrow buried itself in the temple of an enemy who had pushed into their ranks.

“Everyone! Pull yourselves together and reform the line!”

“Yes, sir!”

Thanks to Rivera’s intervention, the broken formation was quickly restored.

‘My lord! I did it!’

Only now did a hot surge rise in Rivera’s chest.

Both of them were Peak Experts, but Rivera had been just a name known in a backwater like Kushan, while Jedark was a warrior renowned across all of Norberju.

And yet, he had brought Jedark down!

His spirits soaring, Rivera lifted his head — and his gaze found Ransen.

Ransen was still tearing through the enemy cavalry archers, darting in and out, with Haarun and his royal guards close on his heels.

But—

Yes, he was fighting, but…

From any angle, it looked like Ransen was barely enduring, fleeing, and scraping by.

‘…Is the situation worse than I thought?’

A chill of dread flickered through him, but Rivera quickly shook his head.

Ransen had been clear. He said not to worry about his fight. Not to interfere. To help with the others instead.

‘I have to trust him.’

Forcing down his worry, Rivera’s gaze shifted elsewhere—

toward another warrior, locked in a precarious battle.

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