The Storm (3)

Outside the collapsed wall caused by the appearance of the giant, the knights of Strange formed a semicircular formation and waited for the enemy.

"The ones we will be facing now are seasoned warriors from battlefields you have never experienced," said Diberie, drawing a thin rapier like a rose stem.

"Never underestimate them and show no mercy," he commanded.

The knights responded in unison, "Yes!"

Regardless of whether the enemy was strong or weak, they were to fight with all their might. This was something drilled into them from the time they were apprentices until they became intermediate knights.

Clank, clank, clank.

The sound of the knights forming a wall with their shields filled the air. Diberie looked at their determined eyes and smiled with satisfaction.

"I know that most of you have not yet set foot on a battlefield."

Diberie planted the flag bearing the Strange family crest in the center of the formation with a thud.

"Take this opportunity to feel the weight of death!"

The knights responded again, "Understood!"

Diberie signaled to the commander of the knights. The commander pulled down his helmet and raised his sword above his head.

"Prepare for battle!"

The knights responded in unison, "Prepare for battle!"

Strange never submits to the enemy, no matter how strong they might be.

The ground shook.

Hundreds of enemies began to appear, running from within the walls. They wore different uniforms with various emblems, indicating their affiliation with different units: wolves, cows, sheep, or skulls, representing the unique characteristics of their regions.

The knight commander positioned a large tower shield that covered his entire body and drew his sword behind him, preparing to thrust as they awaited the enemy.

"Prepare for combat."

The Strange knights waited silently, only their faces peeking over their shields, awaiting the next command.

"Charge!"

At the moment the Bourbon mercenaries began to emerge from the walls, the Strange knights closed their formation and charged.

"Uraaaah!"

Their battle cries filled the battlefield. Led by the knight commander, the Strange knights collided with the enemy, not with their swords but with their shields.

Thud!

The enemy soldiers fell without even swinging their weapons properly. In retaliation, the mercenaries fired arrows and bullets from the rear.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Bang! Bang!

But all were blocked by the shields, rendering them useless. Only their fellow mercenaries were hit by the stray arrows and bullets.

"Hey, watch where you're shooting! Are you trying to blow off our heads?!"

"Those crazy bastards, they're just shooting wildly because they're in the back!"

"Stop yapping and get up! If you keep lying there like idiots, we can't advance!"

Diberie, observing the flow of the battle from the rear, smiled. He had already anticipated the mercenaries' chaotic tactics and had prepared the knights accordingly. The enemy was skilled in individual combat but fell apart in unit-based battles.

'As expected, the blood of Strange runs thick in the young master.'

Even at such a young age, Verdin quickly grasped the situation and saw through the enemy's movements. Diberie was impressed by how everything was unfolding exactly according to Verdin's plan.

"Plug the gaps!"

Diberie shouted loudly. The knight commander echoed the order, "Plug the gaps!!"

The knights responded with a war cry and charged at the fallen mercenaries with their shields.

Thud, thud, thud.

They thrust their swords through the gaps in their shields, stabbing the mercenaries.

Crack!

They then used the corpses to block the path.

"Push!!!"

The central mercenaries, unable to even get into a proper stance, were pushed back the way they had come.

"Whoa, whoa, don't push! There's no more room behind us!"

With the frontline secured, Strange shifted from defense to offense.

"Rox, we are ready," a voice whispered to Rox from behind.

"Don't mess around this time, okay?"

"I got it!"

"If you disobey me again, you won't descend ever again."

"Hah… damn it. Why don't you trust your guardian spirit? Just leave it to me. I need to attack those mercenaries and the knights of Bourbon over there, right?"

"…That's right."

"Okay, let's go. Here we go!"

Despite his mistrust of his guardian spirit, Rox had no choice but to raise his hands above his head.

"Come forth."

Flash!

Rox and his guardian spirit began their descent. This was a sight even Verdin had never witnessed. Rox's hair turned red and shot up towards the sky as if struck by lightning.

"Hah! It's been a while since I've had a real fight!"

* * *

"Save meee!!!"

Screams echoed throughout Legion Castle as giant insects suddenly appeared, attacking the Bourbon knights. Outside the castle, dead mercenaries rose again and began attacking their own allies.

What on earth is happening? The imperial forces guarding Legion were thrown into chaos.

'Who is the enemy and who is an ally?'

In normal circumstances, it was obvious: monsters were the enemies, and knights were allies.

"All troops, do not engage in combat and observe the situation!"

The commander of the imperial forces guarding Legion chose to remain neutral.

And for good reason: the knights, who were supposed to protect the citizens, were instead attacking them.

Conversely, the insects assaulting the castle only fought the adventurers who attacked them, not the citizens.

"What on earth is going on?"

The imperial commander swallowed hard.

"Monsters have invaded, so why aren't we helping?"

One of the men, adorned with a feathered helmet, asked the commander.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"Who our allies are."

"Are you serious? Of course, the monsters are the enemy!"

"Is that what you think? Then let me ask you one thing. That knight who dragged a woman out of her house and assaulted her—"

The commander pointed to a fallen Bourbon knight.

"Is he an ally or an enemy?"

"What…?"

"All the knights currently fighting the monsters have done the same. They claimed they were searching for something, but they killed and trampled innocent people."

"But that's—"

"And those insects protected the citizens."

The deputy commander opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Then, what should we do?"

"I already told you. Watch the situation."

"...If things go wrong, you will have to take responsibility."

The commander raised an eyebrow at his remark but then turned away and answered.

"I will. But if my judgment is correct, you won't remain in my unit."

The deputy commander clenched his fists.

"Very well."

Time continued to pass, and the tide of the battle began to turn.

Unable to withstand the fierce assault of the mutant ants, most of Bourbon's knights either fled or fell.

The giant insects, having subdued them, burrowed into the ground and vanished without a trace.

* * *

Clang! Clang clang! Clang!

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of clashes.

How many strikes had we exchanged? I fought Baron Moncl until my breath was ragged.

Huff-

"Not bad."

He looked at me with a satisfied expression. He must be just as exhausted.

"A youngster with a sharp tongue."

"That's you. Which of us should show respect?"

"Ha! Obviously you! No matter how direct you are, the age difference is significant."

"If age dictates hierarchy, then you should bow to the beggar at the market entrance."

"...You're quite eloquent for someone about to die. This time, I'll take your leg."

Moncl positioned his sword behind his back, ready to strike. Both of us had inflicted wounds on each other from countless exchanges. Up to now, it was hard to say who was superior.

'In terms of pure swordsmanship, I, who once held the title of Sword King, am better.'

Unfortunately, my current young body lacked the ability to fully unleash all my techniques.

My hands and feet were still too short.

Even though I anticipated Moncl's moves and attacked first, his counterattack always reached me sooner.

'It can't be helped.'

Baron Moncl was a semi-sword master. In my previous life, I was called a Sword King, with only a slight difference in level.

The limitations of my yet-undeveloped body closed the gap between us.

'But.'

Regardless, I would win this fight.

'The difference between direct and collateral lineage is absolute.'

Even if his swordsmanship currently surpassed mine, his potential aura was far below mine.

'So.'

The sure strategy to defeat him was to draw the battle out until he exhausted himself.

"Shall we begin again?"

Moncl approached first.

Judging by the aura emanating from his entire body, I could tell he was going all out this time.

'He's coming strong.'

Swoosh!

He leapt off the giant's shoulder, swinging his sword upward.

Whoosh- Fwoosh!

"Where are you going?"

I stepped back, bringing Mistletoe down from above.

Clang!

The two swords clashed in mid-air. Black and red auras swirled around us, pushing against each other.

Screech.

"Today, I will kill you and your father, and take the throne of Strange."

Moncl's eyes were full of determination.

"If you can."

I smirked at him, concentrating mana in one hand and chanting.

"Lacrimis Phlema."

In an instant, tear-shaped mana gathered in my palm and burst.

Bang!

Simultaneously, the dispersed mana droplets enveloped Baron Moncl.

"?!"

As expected, he was impressive.

He reflexively swung his cloak to block my magic.

Flutter.

Sizzle!

'Lacrimis Phlema.'

Also known as 'Tears of Flame,' this spell was an ancient magic taught by Brunhilt.

Unprepared for the spell and its power, he involuntarily retreated.

"Did you just use mana...?"

Moncl's eyes darted around.

Using both aura and mana confused him.

I didn't miss the opportunity to launch another attack, swinging my sword at him.

'His judgment is clouded.'

Now is the chance.

Shing-!

Moncl quickly read my movement and countered.

Swoosh-

Our swords crossed in a split second, black and fiery auras clashing violently.

Thud!

The battle was over.

The outcome was decided.

One of the swords pierced the opponent's heart.

The duel between a former Sword Master and the current one concluded.

"...Well done, Monestiere."

Baron Moncl smiled at me before dropping to his knees and collapsing forward.

Thud.

* * *

Two men who had been watching Verdin and Moncl's fight began to converse.

"So, should we help?"

A tall man wrapped in bandages asked. The elderly man in black training clothes nodded.

"Moncl was right. My judgment was wrong. It seems we need to deal with him today."

"Alright, let's finish this quickly and head to the tower. Taking care of Lois will take some time."

"Okay."

Monestiere's former comrades prepared to ambush Verdin.

The black-haired elder, who had intended to watch Verdin's growth, changed his mind after witnessing the fight.

'We must cut the bud before it grows.'

Nurturing him for fun was not an option. His talent was on a different level, capable of surpassing them in a day or two.

With that thought, the black-haired elder and the bandaged man moved to kill Verdin.

"Stop."

"...!"

An unexpected figure appeared before them.

Caw, caw, caw!

The Strange family's arbiter, known as the Crow of Judgment.

Valentine de Strange.

"Take one more step, and you'll lose your heads."

She had come directly to Legion.