Chapter 892

Chapter 892

Ragna advanced without the slightest attempt at concealment. His stride remained steady, neither hurrying nor lingering, entirely indifferent to the eyes watching him. Given that he was trekking through the heart of hostile territory, it was inevitable that the opposition would take notice.

“Hold it, what are you supposed to be?”

A soldier within the ranks called out, shifting only his head. His unit had just completed their final preparations for a full-scale assault.

“Just someone passing through.”

The reply was delivered with such composure that it left the soldier momentarily stunned. It wasn’t a fabrication, yet the sheer audacity of the tone was disorienting. The soldier blinked, his mind racing.

*Is he one of ours? Some secret asset the Great Emperor deployed? He doesn’t look like a commander, though.*

Such theories flashed through his brain. A high-ranking officer would usually be distinguishable by ornate attire or specific shoulder markings, neither of which this man possessed.

“Should we let him go?” the soldier whispered to the man beside him.

“I haven’t a clue.”

His comrade was just as perplexed. They both shared the same nagging doubt: could they truly afford to ignore a man walking with such leisure through a war zone?

In the meantime, Ragna continued his stroll. Nobody moved to obstruct him. The army was locked in a rigid formation, and the soldiers, bound by strict discipline, remained in their rows, tracking him only with their gazes. Besides, he was a lone individual. The idea of a knight simply wandering into the center of their ranks was too absurd to contemplate. Why would an enemy be here? It defied logic, but Ragna was the exception to every rule.

“Hey! Which battalion do you belong to? You missed the call to assemble! And what’s with that pathetic equipment?”

An officer positioned near the rear of the vanguard finally barked at him. Stuck in his position, the officer could only shout through the gaps between his men.

Aside from his travel-worn cloak, Ragna bore no visible insignia identifying him with Naurillia or the Border Guard. The fabric hung limp against his back, hiding its secrets. Even within the Great Emperor’s vast host, not everyone recognized one another. It was common to see allies in unfamiliar plating or foreign garb. There were even monstrous creatures fighting on their side, though they generally kept a distance from the human infantry.

Seeing a soldier in strange gear wasn’t necessarily a red flag; it was simply Ragna’s casual pace in such a high-tension environment that drew the eye.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Ragna replied with flat indifference, never breaking his stride. The questioning officer went silent. Ragna continued padding forward until he came to a halt before a massive creature that appeared as though it had been hewn from solid gray rock.

*Enormous.*

The beast was staggering. Even a man of Audin’s stature would have looked like a child standing in its shadow.

*Even for a giant…*

This creature was three times the size of a standard giant. Standing at its base, Ragna had to crane his neck just to see its head.

A low, vibrating rumble echoed as the beast moved. A heavy mass of metal was tethered to the end of its long, swaying trunk—a living siege engine. Each time it shifted its weight, the earth shuddered as if a minor quake had struck. Given its sheer mass, the impact was only natural.

“Watch it, kid, you’ll get crushed. Move along!”

The warning drifted down from above. A rider perched atop the elephant looked down, his voice dismissive.

“Who is this guy?”

“Probably just some wanderer who lost his way and stumbled into the camp.”

“Ha! Imagine being that much of an idiot.”

Five riders manned the beast’s back. Three were armed with long spears, while two carried shields broad enough to serve as portable walls. Each had a sword at his hip. Even from a distance, Ragna could see the worn leather of their hilts—a sign of men who lived by the blade.

*Veterans.*

These weren’t mere observers. They were a specialized unit that had spent years mastering their craft. Ragna could already visualize their tactics: the shield-bearers would provide cover while the spearmen rained down javelins. The swords were reserved for anyone fast enough to try and scale the elephant’s massive legs.

Ragna, however, dismissed these details. He focused his mind, his hand ghosting over his weapon.

*Can I take the head in a single swing?*

The height was significant, but a well-timed leap would put him within reach.

*One hand? Or should I use both?*

He wondered about the density of the beast’s hide. Did it truly possess the hardness of the stone it resembled? He calculated the necessary force. He had never encountered such a creature before. That gray skin looked more like a protective carapace than flesh, appearing tougher than the hide of most high-rank monsters.

*How many of them are there?*

Ragna surveyed his immediate surroundings. Three of the behemoths were close enough to be a threat. He imagined a standard infantry unit trying to hold the line against them. Those three alone would turn a battlefield into a slaughterhouse.

The future was fluid, but some outcomes were certain.

*If I leave these standing, they’ll be a nightmare later.*

That was all the justification Ragna needed. To him, they were simply obstacles that would eventually hurt his comrades.

As he watched, two of the elephants began to move.

*Thump. Thump.*

The ground groaned, and plumes of dust kicked up as high as a man’s chest. If they were to charge in earnest, it would be a literal earthquake. Ragna reached his conclusion.

*Both hands.*

The grip of Sunrise was long enough for a two-handed hold. A more efficient plan than a single decapitating strike formed in his mind, and he immediately moved to execute it.

A few nearby soldiers watched him curiously. One rider on the beast’s back scowled.

“Hey! Are you deaf? Get out of the way!”

The man was becoming a nuisance, blocking the path of the war beast. If they were delayed any further, the officers would start screaming. The rider decided to simply trample past him.

At that exact moment, Ragna adjusted his footing. He sank into a deep, stable stance. His cloak caught a sudden gust of wind generated by his own sudden surge of killing intent.

*Snap!*

The dark-green fabric flared out, momentarily shielding him from the rising dust and exposing the heraldry on his back. It was a stepped pattern of lines—the architectural symbol of a fortress wall.

A few lower-tier officers from Rihinstetten recognized it instantly. The elephant rider, holding a similar rank, had also been forced to memorize enemy crests before the campaign began. While they were used to seeing the royal colors of Naurillia or the crimson of the Red Cloak Order, they had been specifically warned about this one.

The symbol of the fortress. The mark of the Border Guard, the defenders of Naurillia’s greatest stronghold.

“An intruder?” the rider gasped.

Before the word had even fully left the man’s lips, Ragna moved. He followed the mental blueprint he had already drawn.

“I told you, I’m not lost. I’m just passing through.”

It was the same calm reply. He genuinely believed it. To Ragna, he was merely traveling from one point to another; he just happened to be killing the things that annoyed him along the way.

*Zing—.*

The sound of the greatsword Sunrise leaving its sheath was so sharp and fast that most soldiers missed it entirely.

Ragna drew the blade in a wide, horizontal arc. From their high vantage point, the riders saw what looked like a small, concentrated cyclone. Without a single breath or a blink, a dark-green whirlwind erupted, a localized disaster that seemed to materialize out of thin air. Ragna felt the wind-whipped cloak at his back, almost as if it were propelling him forward.

His blade sought the elephant’s leg.

*Sever.*

The fusion of his focused Will of Severance and years of tireless training culminated in a single strike. The blade bit through the massive limb with a clean, effortless hiss. A thin, perfect line appeared across the gray “stone” of the beast’s leg. It was a formidable creature, but not as indestructible as its appearance suggested.

Ragna followed through with the swing, bleeding off the momentum with practiced grace.

Then, the air was shattered by a scream.

**GRAAAOOOOO!**

Pain is a universal language. When a limb is detached, the body reacts. The elephant shrieked, its massive frame beginning to tilt precariously to one side.

*Even at half-strength…*

The resistance of the leg told him everything he needed to know. The neck would be more vulnerable. Whether beast or man, the biological weaknesses remained the same.

Ragna adjusted his footing, tracking the elephant’s neck as it began its slow, heavy descent. He lunged forward, bringing the sword down in a powerful vertical stroke. An expert observer would have been mesmerized by the flawless arc of the blade. However, there were no experts here—only terrified soldiers.

He darted beneath the falling gray mass, his blade snapping through the nape of the beast. He spun away to the side as the momentum carried him through. The fluid speed of his movements was borderline supernatural.

“Aaah!” a rider shrieked in terror.

“Crap! You—! What the—!”

Soldiers who had been watching in stunned silence finally found their voices. They were on the verge of a charge. Even if it meant breaking ranks, this intruder had to be dealt with immediately. But when faced with something so outside the realm of experience, human reflexes falter. They stood there, mouths agape, shouting curses that lacked any real conviction.

“Kill him now!”

One officer managed to break the spell. He possessed a sharp mind and quick judgment—the hallmarks of a capable leader. He didn’t care who Ragna was; he saw a threat and reacted.

In truth, they should have attacked the moment he appeared. But Ragna’s sheer normalcy—the way he walked and spoke—had lulled them into a fatal sense of security.

Five soldiers under the officer’s command broke formation, drawing their blades as they charged. These were no amateurs; they were members of the Horseshoe Infantry, the pride of Rihinstetten.

Yet, skill is a relative term. Against a knight of Ragna’s caliber, they were nothing. Ragna didn’t even slow down. He sprinted toward his next target, and in a single passing motion, he opened all five of their throats.

To the officer, it looked like a glitch in reality.

He saw nothing. He heard nothing. There was only a sudden flash of steel, and then five heads were reeling back as blood sprayed into the air. He couldn’t comprehend the level of violence required to achieve such a result.

A knight was a walking natural disaster. And among them, Ragna was a freak of nature—a monster that even other knights would fear. At that moment, the officer probably would have preferred a meteor strike to the man standing before him.

**GRAAAOO!**

A second elephant lashed out with its trunk. Ragna, fresh from his five-fold kill, saw the massive limb swinging toward him like a falling wall. He gauged the speed, calculated the impact, and accelerated.

**BOOM!**

The earth beneath his boots exploded as he pushed off. Had his footwear not been crafted from the hides of high-tier demonic beasts, the soles would have disintegrated under the pressure of his takeoff.

Ragna didn’t just dodge; he drove himself straight into the beast’s guard.

**CRASH!**

The iron weight at the end of the trunk slammed into the dirt where he had stood a millisecond prior, leaving a crater twice the size of the elephant’s own footprint.

Was it a force one could block? For a normal man, no. But Ragna had traded blows with Audin; this was child’s play by comparison.

Having closed the distance, he brought Sunrise up and then down in a punishing cleave. Even a fraction of the technique embedded in that simple movement would have marked him as a master.

**WHAM!**

The sound of the blade breaking the sound barrier preceded the impact. The armored shell protecting the beast’s vitals split wide open. Ragna slid beneath the elephant’s belly, dragging his sword in a long, continuous line. It was a maneuver he had adapted from Oara’s style—using his legs to drive the momentum, creating a cutting path far longer than any stationary swing could achieve.

The second elephant’s underside was torn open. Blood and viscera spilled out in a hot, stinking deluge, soaking the mud. The metallic scent of slaughter filled the air.

Ragna immediately pivoted toward the third behemoth. The rider on top was waving his arms frantically, screaming something unintelligible. Ragna didn’t need to hear the words to understand the sentiment.

The giant beast, once an unstoppable force, was now backing away in a visible tremor of fear. The rider made the desperate, foolish choice to flee. But Ragna had already proven that he was faster than any animal.

Running was the worst possible move.

Ragna took a step to give chase, but then he froze. He didn’t ignore the sudden jolt of his instincts. His skin crawled with a familiar dread—the same sensation he felt when that coward Rem would try to bury an axe in his back from the shadows.

His senses flared. His Will took over. Before his conscious mind could process the threat, his body was already in motion.

Mid-step, Ragna slammed his foot down to anchor himself and brought Sunrise up in a sharp, diagonal parry.

A heavy thud echoed as the earth was disturbed, sending a cloud of dust into the air. To an untrained eye, it looked like Ragna was fighting a ghost. But to those who occupied the realm of the elite—those who could sense the intent behind a strike before it landed—it was a move of pure necessity.

**CLANG!**

As Sunrise swept upward, it collided with a heavy, hexagonal club.

Ragna instantly shifted his weight, twisting his torso and arms to deflect the massive kinetic energy. Had he tried to take the blow head-on, his arms would have been shattered. The attacker wasn’t finished. He dropped low, swinging the club in a vicious horizontal sweep aimed at Ragna’s shins.

If he didn’t move, his legs would be pulverized. Ragna flipped his grip on Sunrise and drove the blade vertically into the ground.

**KWAANG!**

This wasn’t a strike he could simply deflect with finesse. He used the sword as a pillar, funneling the opponent’s overwhelming strength directly into the bedrock.

The collision of the club against the greatsword produced a deafening roar. A shockwave rippled outward, invisible but physical.

“Gah!”

Soldiers standing too close collapsed, clutching their ears as blood leaked from their drums. Some fell into fits of tremors, their nervous systems overloaded by the sheer pressure of the clash.

“What are you? Where did a freak like you crawl out from? How did you even get past the lines?” the attacker demanded, his voice strained.

Ragna looked him in the eye and gave the only answer he had.

“I’m just passing through.”