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Soul Crown

"Born into this world with a bare soul, he embraced the bloodline of the werewolf, crowning it with glory."

Kevin_Cianci · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
100 Chs

Battle Under the Moonlight Part 8

"I've already won!" Rupert declared as he released an arrow, striking down someone attempting to approach him.

Under the influence of his emblem power, the closer they got, the more restricted they became. Without their weapons, their fate was sealed—they would be shot down.

Even without his emblem ability, Rupert had absolute confidence in himself. Though not permitted knight training, he practiced archery daily. With supernatural powers, he would undoubtedly become a master marksman.

Perhaps this fueled Rupert's extraordinary ambition, never feeling satisfied.

He watched Sam charge at Mansla, lifting his head slightly like a victor observing the defeated.

"It's not enough. Mansla might still rise again. Only by leaving him in this forest can I claim complete victory!"

"Aren't you going to act?" Purdore's strikes were light, leaving the creatures only lightly injured. "Your goods are about to be taken."

"Not yet. Wait a bit longer." Mansla watched the charging Sam with eyes full of disdain and contempt.

"Sam!" Sam shouted his name, raising his greatsword like a charging bull, stirring up dead leaves and dust as if to crash through everything in his path.

At that moment, the emblem on Mansla's hand began to glow.

The deeds of his ancestors flowed through Mansla's mind.

"Why can't I go to the frontline?" Viscally Lockway, before gaining his noble title, was already powerful.

The northern front needed strong knights like him, but a command assigned him to the south for so-called land development.

"At the core, it's distrust. Distrust of my half-blood heritage," Viscally lamented, pained by the looks of those around him.

Giants, though lacking Sin power, could still cause havoc in human society and were labeled as abominations.

Some intelligent species, though capable of communication with humans, were still widely considered monsters.

The northern front was a battle against such species. Viscally, a half-blood with considerable strength, was a liability.

His southern assignment was more a banishment, out of sight and mind.

He yearned for recognition of his loyalty to the country but harbored resentment for his mixed blood.

He desired glory on the northern front but was exiled to the southern wilderness.

He despised the monsters of the wild yet sometimes felt he was one of them.

A genius and a monster.

In the then-wild lands of Roia, he achieved nothing significant, save for leveraging his mixed heritage.

Unwilling to be defeated by reality, he ultimately conceded.

Using his heritage as leverage, he allied with nearby monsters, trapping and defeating them, thus earning his merit.

"Contradictory Bait"

Mansla's eyes turned blood-red, an inhuman aura emanating from him, his face twisted in rage.

"Sir Rupert, do you think you've won?"

"No, victory is mine! Only mine, Mansla!"

"We are friends." He didn't dodge Sam's attack, stating this calmly.

A force erupted from the emblem, an invisible wave encompassing all approaching creatures.

The attacking creatures and the charging Sam were simultaneously affected.

Even Purdore felt some impact, though rubbing his temples dissipated it quickly.

Purdore had no ill intent towards Mansla, hence the minimal effect.

The first effect of the "Contradictory Bait" was to charm creatures.

Any creature hated or despised by humans would instantly turn their hatred into affection for Mansla.

The half-giant, easily angered or charmed, had a simple mind. Under this power, even others, but especially Sam, paused in confusion.

"Sam's friend?"

"Yes, clear the obstacles for your friend!" Mansla said with suppressed disgust, his eyes filled with hatred.

Mansla was deeply contradictory. He prided himself on nobility but knew his ancestor's title came through treachery.

He scorned noble second sons who became monks as traitors, though his ancestor was one.

He mocked others' vile methods, yet his were often worse.

Reluctant to be bait, he avoided the forest during the day but had to drop his guard at night to lure enemies.

Inherited from his ancestor, Mansla was highly contradictory.

Even his fate was similar. To preserve his so-called honor, he had to rely on creatures' power.

Using this ability, Mansla quickly turned the tide. Led by Sam, the creatures roared as they charged at Rupert and his men.

The louder the creatures' cries, the darker Mansla's expression grew.

"I guess your ancestor felt the same as you now," Purdore mocked.

"Living in a human kingdom yet distrusted and exiled to the wilds, only to gain trust from creatures when rallying them."

"The monsters of that time probably also roared for Viscally, showing their trust in him."

Purdore laughed heartily. Viscally's story was a bitter irony.

Even more so because Viscally ultimately betrayed those who trusted him most.

Cold and selfish, he earned his so-called 'glory.'

"I didn't bring you here to mock me," Mansla's face twisted. He raised his hand, the emblem's light flickering.

"Now, let Sir Rupert reap what he's sown."

A force erupted from the emblem, not dispersing but enveloping Mansla. His bones creaked as his body grew taller.

If the creature charm was the "Contradictory Bait's" shield, this was its spear.

He harnessed the creatures' abilities, channeling natural power into the emblem bearer, without altering his bloodline.

Reflecting Viscally's use of creatures' power for his own ends.

"I am invincible!" Mansla relished the surging power, swiftly following the creatures.

Rupert's advantage vanished instantly, leaving him stunned.

"Right on target." His expression darkened, realizing his strategic mistake.

He had delivered his strength, countered by Mansla, to his enemy.

Killing a noble should be left to creatures for plausible deniability.

Rupert suspected Mansla's power was related to creatures, leaving Sam to confront him.

But greed got the better of him.

"Taking the goods wasn't enough; I wanted Mansla dead too."

Thus, he sent Sam after Mansla.

"Is this the fate of the Rupert family?" Rupert's ancestor secured supplies for the rear, earning merit, yet was not satisfied. He led an assault on the enemy, seeking greater glory but failed.

After a brilliant success, decline was inevitable.

"Ultimately, it's a lack of power. If I had enough, I wouldn't need creatures' help or send Sam against Mansla."

Rupert's hand trembled as he held his bow, his arrow veering off course.

"Retreat!" Forgetting his dignity, he turned and fled. This was just one failure.

Knowing Mansla's ability now, he still had a chance.