Chapter 110

Chapter 110
Chapter 110

Norbeck’s singular fixation was the demise of Lucian.

Nevertheless, as the supreme commander, Lucian was shielded by layers of elite protective details. Even in the face of a total rout, a high-ranking commander typically found a way to survive. Norbeck harbored doubts about whether his own steel could even get close to Lucian, even if they managed to spark a frantic, disorganized brawl.

‘And even if we manage to corner him, that presents a different obstacle. It would be a simple matter if his personal combat skills were lackluster, but isn’t he the same man who crushed Harald in a direct clash of strength?’

That victory hadn’t been won through cunning traps or using finesse to mask a deficit in power. Lucian had sent a heavy axe soaring through sheer physical dominance, exhibiting terrifying martial capability. A typical knight would likely be more concerned with keeping their own head on their shoulders than attempting to take his.

Yet, the individual standing in such an untouchable status had announced he would step into the fray of his own accord. It was enough to cause Norbeck, who was already teetering on the edge of madness from his vendetta, to lose his grip on reality completely.

‘But if we proceed with this, aren’t we merely performing according to the enemy’s script?’

Palmyr was uncertain which knight would emerge first, but they were bound to be a formidable adversary. Should the House of Calix endure a string of losses, the most catastrophic outcome might be realized.

“My Lord.”

“Are you going?”

The second Palmyr parted his lips to talk him out of it, a freezing spark ignited in Norbeck’s eyes. It was obvious that if Palmyr uttered anything other than a confirmation of the duel, Norbeck would order Palmyr himself to the front lines first.

After a long pause of uncertainty, Palmyr forced down the heavy breath gathering in his chest and spoke.

“…I shall deploy Sir Dane.”

“Grant it.”

Norbeck appeared to have no desire for further discussion and kept his mouth shut. Just as he had asserted earlier, he was indifferent to the number of lives thrown away, provided he could ultimately lure Lucian into the open.

Observing him, Palmyr choked back his own resentment and walked away. He was struck by an agonizing sense of grief for his brothers-in-arms, who were being used as mere fuel for a fire rather than meeting an honorable end as knights.

Buuuuu—

Shortly after, the resonance of a horn announcing the start of the single combat rolled across Crow Hill.

At that exact moment, a lone warrior emerged from Lucian’s ranks. Dressed in pristine white plate armor, their identity was entirely obscured by a visor.

Advancing to meet them, Dane, the knight chosen to represent the Calix side, stepped into the clearing.

“I am Dane Volkov, a sworn blade of the House of Calix! Declare yourself!”

“Hoo.”

A derisive snort leaked from behind the metal mask, which was nearly impossible to see through. The tone seemed young, but due to the echoing within the steel, it was difficult to pin down an exact age.

“Insurrectionist trash pretending at chivalry? Abandon this pointless theater and simply offer up your throat.”

“…!”

Dane fixated on the white-clad knight, his features turning a deep shade of scarlet. He would not dispute that the blame for this conflict rested with Calix. But was it not crossing a line to disparage a knight’s individual dignity alongside the crimes of the family they served? He was only doing his part for the master to whom he had pledged his life, yet he was being spoken to like a common thief.

“Let us discover if your blade is as sharp as your insults!”

Unsheathing his sword, Dane charged the white knight. No matter how regal the equipment appeared, if the hand wielding the steel was unskilled, it was nothing more than an expensive shell. He intended to shatter the opponent’s guard and then drive his point into the seams of the plating.

‘First, I will crush them with pure momentum!’

It was the very moment he sought to exert a heavy pressure so the adversary could not evade the opening blow.

Phut.

“…?”

As the white knight’s blade left its sheath, the sound of a dry reed snapping reached his ears. As Dane blinked, confused by the noise, his field of vision began to lurch sideways.

Why so suddenly… With that final realization, Dane Volkov reached his conclusion.

Thud. Splat.

His skull struck the mire first, followed by his torso, which collapsed and sent a spray of dirty water into the air.

Despite the fact that no crimson marked the steel, the white knight gave the weapon a sharp flick as if clearing away something repulsive. While everyone stood paralyzed, struggling to comprehend the event, the white knight spoke.

“Next.”

“…”

“…”

Both legions watched with open mouths at the jarring display. While Dane might not have been a figure of legend, he was undoubtedly a hardened fighter with years of battlefield experience. To have his life extinguished without even a single exchange of strikes…

‘They didn’t target the junction between the helm and the chest plate. They cut through the steel as if it were parchment.’

Palmyr felt a lump in his throat as he stared at the shard of plate that had tumbled alongside Dane’s severed head. It was a known fact that knights could achieve supernatural force by bolstering their physiques. However, while a reinforced body permitted swifter and more fluid movements, it did not naturally amplify the shearing power of the metal itself.

Yet, the challenger hadn’t merely reinforced their body; they had boosted the lethality of the sword to an impossible degree.

‘Is that the stage of manifesting mana to envelop the edge?’

It wasn’t solely about the increased cutting force. At the level where one could fluidly control physical mana during a fight, the accuracy of their strikes reached a different realm. Unless the opponent was a warrior of equal standing, anyone who stepped forward would be cut down like a straw mannequin.

“My Lord.”

“Deploy the next.”

“My Lord!”

“I believe I stated that I am indifferent to the death toll.”

“…”

“Regardless of their power, they are only a single individual. Employ toxins or whatever else is required. We have already traveled too far. You understand as well as I do that there is no path back. Therefore, do not cling to notions like pride.”

Palmyr gazed at the heavens with hollow eyes. The truth about their employment of sorcerers had been exposed, and the heir, Godfrey, had long since become a cold body. The downfall of House Calix was already a settled matter. Even so, he had come looking for a place to fall to honor his knightly vow, but…

‘Did I survive all these years for a transition like this?’

A profound sense of remorse settled in Palmyr’s soul. Even if he remained by his broken master’s side any longer, no good would come of it.

“I shall step out this time.”

“I am relying on you. I shall not forget your contribution.”

At his master’s flat, emotionless tone, Palmyr only gave a stoic nod. There was no purpose in investing heart and soul into a gesture that lacked any genuine feeling.

Seeing Palmyr calmly draw his weapon, the white knight inquired.

“Will you not proclaim your name?”

“It would be of no consequence.”

“…I understand.”

Detecting Palmyr’s state of hopelessness, the white knight shifted into a stance.

“I shall not provide mercy. Regardless of the conclusion, he was the master you selected for yourself.”

“I have no argument against that.”

With a pained grin, Palmyr launched his strike. Even in a condition of total resignation, his frame moved instinctively toward the most efficient path. Perhaps because he had abandoned all worries, the arc of his blade was more flawless than it had ever been during his years of hungry ambition.

The instant he sensed he had broken through a barrier, the opponent’s blade-light flashed. In that fleeting second, Palmyr felt a sense of awe at the path of the incoming steel.

‘How exquisite.’

With that final observation, Palmyr’s head spun into the atmosphere.

Splat.

“Hmm.”

Another skull tumbled into the sludge. The white knight, who had been methodically generating cadavers, let out a soft sound of annoyance for the first time. Because so many forms had accumulated, it was becoming tough to find a solid place to stand. While they weren’t people who earned much sympathy, the knight didn’t particularly relish stepping over the deceased.

“It appears we should shift the engagement area slightly.”

“…”

“Shall I relocate over there? Or will the next challenger approach me here?”

Norbeck’s tightened hands shook uncontrollably. On the mound of earth rising with the bodies of knights, the white knight showed not a single hint of fatigue. The quantity of mana required for physical reinforcement while maintaining these duels must have been immense; how could a mortal be capable of that?

“…Who are you?”

The eyes that had been glaring unblinkingly at Lucian finally shifted entirely toward the white knight. The white knight responded to Norbeck’s demand with composure.

“There is no requirement for you to be informed.”

“No, I must be told! I cannot endure watching a child bring in an outsider who isn’t even part of his household and behave with such insolence!”

“An outsider?”

“Eisen Brightner! As the Sword Saint, do you feel no regret?! To aid that child simply because he is the son of your master!”

“Ha.”

Unless it were the Sword Saint, such a performance was inconceivable. Seeing Norbeck leap to that conclusion, the white knight released a scoff. Then, without hesitation, the white knight reached for the fastenings of the helmet.

As the helm was pulled away, a cascade of hair fell down to the shoulders.

“The Sword Saint? Whatever gave you that notion? I am not my father.”

“…!”

“My name is Felicia Brightner. I am a knight in the service of His Grace the Duke. I am battling for my sovereign, so I fail to see where the issue lies.”

Norbeck gnawed at his lip. The female warrior he had initially assumed the brat had kept around as a mere ornament. It was only after the stories of the Sword Saint circulated that he discovered she was the Sword Saint’s ward and premier student.

Even so, he hadn’t been especially cautious. No matter how much of a once-in-a-century talent she might be, wasn’t she just a novice with nearly zero actual battle experience? He assumed they would keep her in the most secure location possible until she attained a certain level of mastery.

‘…Was her prowess already sufficient to butcher veteran knights? Curse it!’

The seasoned knights had already been executed by Felicia. The three who remained were men who would become corpses the second they were ordered out. Effectively, at this juncture, forcing Lucian into the open had become an impossibility.

“It is skewed. Calix is being annihilated, yet that child is to rule as the Conqueror of the North.”

“It is entirely of your own making, so what is skewed about it?”

“But if I take the Sword Saint’s student with me, I will at least have the satisfaction of seeing him strike the earth in sorrow.”

Norbeck disregarded Felicia and whispered to himself. Soon, as Norbeck lifted one hand, the infantrymen in front of him simultaneously pulled objects from behind their legs.

“Short bows?”

Felicia, who had refastened her helmet, murmured as she observed the tools the soldiers revealed. Due to the constant snowstorms, the North favored massive bows with heavy draw weights. Yet, these weren’t even standard military bows, but short bows compact enough to be concealed in one’s clothing by flexing them. This wasn’t a formation meant to suppress an army, but one fashioned specifically for an assassination at a gathering like this.

“To the bitter end…”

“Launch!”

Before Felicia could finish her thought, arrows were released in unison. It wasn’t a single wave, but a rhythmic firing sequence split into five stages. Even if one possessed the martial skill to parry all the arrows once, they would be unable to endure a relentless storm.

That was what Norbeck envisioned as he started to smirk.

T-t-t-tung!

“…?”

As the shafts impacted Felicia’s plating, they lost their drive and fell, accompanied by brief glimmers of light. It wasn’t that the wood had shattered against the steel. They had been turned aside by a meticulously cast Rune Protection before they could even make contact.

Norbeck let out a cry of disbelief as he saw that all five stages of the volley were completely ineffective.

“This is madness! What sort of armor is that…!”

“I anticipated you would attempt that. You never fail to live up to my low expectations.”

Lucian’s voice cut through Norbeck’s focus. Looking up, he saw Lucian, who had been standing at a distance with his battalion, slowly closing the gap toward Norbeck’s spot. The moment he saw that Lucian had moved within the effective range of the short bows, Norbeck’s eyes went wide.

“What are you waiting for?! Shoot! Strike him down! I ordered you to kill him!”

“Do you even possess arrows remaining to shoot?”

Norbeck ground his teeth at Lucian’s mockery. If they had brought full quivers, it would be a different story, but these were tools hidden in secret to avoid detection. Naturally, they could only fit enough for exactly one full sequence.

“Very well! Toss the bows and take up your pikes! All units, prepare for a breakthrough!”

“…”

“…”

Despite the command, the infantry wavered and did not advance. Norbeck’s expression twisted at the sudden lack of discipline.

“What are you doing?! Initiate the charge!”

“Yell as much as you like. See if they move a muscle.”

“What?”

“You utilized your knights as disposable objects right in front of the common soldiers; did you truly expect their spirit to remain unshaken?”

The soldiers were already treated with far less regard than the knights. Having witnessed the knights handled so heartlessly, it was natural they would assume they were next in line. There was no way they would submissively follow a command to go out and perish now.

“If the knights were still present, they would have compelled the men to comply somehow. But you used them all up. There is no one left to drive the infantry from the rear or set a terrifying example by striking down the hesitant.”

To be precise, roughly three knights remained, but that was an irrelevant number. They might manage their own squads, but the other battalions would still stay frozen. Without comrades to support them, any charging unit would lose heart before getting very far.

“The short bow unit was conditioned to act on your cues, so they reacted by instinct. But the other groups are different. It was over the second you stripped the mid-level leaders away from the men and gave them the chance to think for themselves.”

“You…!”

“Thanks to the incompetent Count, things have worked out in my favor. This many able-bodied men will serve as a fantastic workforce. If they bring their kin along, I will be able to gather quite a significant amount in tax revenue, wouldn’t you say?”

Norbeck turned to stone where he stood. Could it be that he had attempted to keep soldier losses to a minimum for the sake of the population and the treasury? Just to wipe out the knights devoted to Calix using the theater of the duel?

“It is finished, old man.”

As if validating Norbeck’s dread, Lucian’s mouth curved into a smirk. Driven to the point of hysteria by that look, Norbeck lunged toward Lucian.

“I will end you— urk!”

Thwack!

Before he could finish vocalizing his threat, Lucian caught Norbeck across the head with the length of his scabbard. Lucian stared down at the fallen patriarch of the House of Calix and gave the order:

“Secure him. We shall perform the execution after we relocate to Asagrim.”