Translator: CinderTL
The atmosphere in the manor's drawing room was completely different from usual.
Behind the mahogany table, Baron Forslin's usual calm expression was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Darco's brow was furrowed in deep concentration.
Faintly from outside, the sounds of fighting at the manor gates mingled with the frantic shouts of servants rushing to put out fires. These sounds, like invisible hammers, pounded relentlessly against the young noble's taut nerves.
Finally, Darco rose abruptly.
The flickering flames in the candelabra cast his restless shadow across the oak floor, twisting and distorting with each step he took.
As he passed the fireplace for the third time, he stopped abruptly, grabbed his sword, and strode purposefully toward the door.
"Young Master Darco!"
Just as he pushed open the oak door, a stern voice halted his progress.
Old Butler Charles, though his hair was now entirely silver, stood as erect as the century-old pine tree in the courtyard.
The old man hurried forward, his gaze fixed on the young man's tightly clenched sword hilt. Worry lines deepened on his wrinkled face.
"Captain John is coordinating the war effort. There's no need for you to get involved, Young Master Darco."
"Uncle Charles."
Darco cut off the old butler, his knuckles white from gripping his sword hilt too tightly. The family crest on the scabbard left a deep imprint on his palm.
"While our warriors are bleeding on the front lines, I refuse to cower in the drawing room like a coward!"
The old butler's aged hand hung suspended in mid-air, his lips trembling.
"But..."
Darco shook his head, his gaze passing over Charles. His voice dropped, tinged with self-mockery.
"When Father was my age, he was already wielding a sword in the Border Legion, personally slaying countless invading barbarians..."
He slowly lowered his head, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist. His face flickered in the candlelight, half-lit, half-shadowed.
But when he raised his face again, all hesitation had vanished from his eyes, replaced by steely determination.
"I may never measure up to Father, but I will not dishonor the Collins Family's legacy!"
Before the words had even faded, Darco strode forward, his boots clicking crisply against the marble floor.
The Old Butler's outstretched hand failed to stop him. He could only watch Roland's upright figure disappear at the end of the long corridor.
The giant's thunderous collapse didn't end the brutal battle, but it was like a spark, reigniting the guards' nearly extinguished fighting spirit.
They looked at Roland, drenched in blood.
Standing atop the giant's corpse, he raised his sword and struck it against his other blade. The clash of steel and cheers echoed across the battlefield.
"The battle is far from over!"
Roland straightened from his crouched position, his booming voice cutting through the chaos.
"Everyone! Immediately execute Captain John's previous battle plan!"
"Yes, sir!"
The response was so unified it was chilling.
These battle-hardened veterans paid no heed to the fact that the one giving orders was merely a blacksmith apprentice.
On the battlefield, titles and ranks were mere formalities; only strength held true authority.
And Roland had proven everything with his sword.
Seeing the guards plunge back into the fight, Roland shook the blood from his sword, the acrid stench of blood filling the air.
Perhaps due to the comprehensive enhancement of all his attributes, the aftereffects of the Momentum Slash had significantly weakened, while its power had noticeably increased.
Thus, even without activating his focus trait, the blow that had slain the giant surpassed the peak state he had achieved before becoming a warrior, even with focus activated.
"Huu..."
Roland exhaled deeply. The exhaustion he had felt after using the Momentum Slash had dissipated by more than half in an instant.
He glanced around, his gaze finally settling on the ruins of the collapsed wooden hut.
Captain John was leaning against it, covered in blood.
"Captain John!"
Roland rushed forward, his voice filled with concern.
"Are you alright?"
"Cough, cough... not dead yet."
John coughed heavily, using his iron sword to struggle to his feet.
Whether it was Roland's stunning strike or the veteran's tenacious vitality, John, who had been on the verge of collapse, had recovered significantly.
Yet his eyes remained wide with barely concealed shock.
"Roland, just now... you..."
As a veteran who had fought alongside Forslin, John recognized the technique instantly.
The Collins Family's ancestral combat technique: the Momentum Slash.
Yet the same technique wielded by different hands could vary drastically.
John vividly remembered how Forslin, then nearly thirty years old, had spent a decade battling on the border and enduring over a hundred life-or-death struggles to hone the Momentum Slash to the level Roland had just displayed.
But this young man?
He was barely eighteen.
When they had fought together against the Aberrant Kobold a few months ago, Roland's strength had been roughly equal to his own.
Now, in just a few short months, this young man had left him far behind.
It was truly incredible.
Roland noticed the shock in John's eyes, but the battle was too urgent to offer explanations.
In truth, none were needed.
The Momentum Slash had been personally taught by Baron Forslin. As for his rapid progress? That could easily be attributed to talent and relentless training.
The entire manor guard had witnessed his daily sweat-drenched efforts on the training grounds.
"Captain John, the battle isn't over yet."
Roland cut off the veteran's hesitant words.
"Y-yes, of course," John snapped back to reality, his brow furrowed as he surveyed the battlefield.
The sight of the kobolds wielding farming tools made him hesitate before continuing.
"There are just too many of these... monsters. Even without any combat skills, their sheer brute force and numbers alone..."
He paused, turning to stare at the manor house at the center of the estate, his jaw clenched tight.
"Roland, we'll cover you. Get Young Master Darco out of here! Lord Baron's troops should still be nearby, heading east along the Dawn Territory border. You need to ride fast."
"No, Captain John."
Roland strode to an intact water basin, carefully washing the blood from his hands. His voice was grim.
"I think I spotted the commander of this monster army on the wall just now."
"Commander?" John frowned.
"Yes." Roland wiped his hands with his still-relatively clean inner lining, nodding gravely.
The frenzied mob of rioters slaughtered friend and foe alike, behaving like monsters themselves. The giant from earlier had clearly surpassed human limits.
The black-robed figure standing unharmed amidst the chaos must be the mastermind behind this massacre. If they could eliminate him, this nightmare battle would end.
With that thought, Roland pressed two fingers together and whistled sharply.
Whoosh!
The urgent sound of hooves grew louder, and a sleek black stallion burst through the swirling dust, coming to a halt beside Roland.
"Roland, this is too dangerous!"
Seeing the horse, John immediately understood Roland's plan and urgently tried to dissuade him.
"Don't worry, Captain John."
Roland took a deep breath and waved his hand.
After this bloody battle, he had gained a clearer understanding of his own strength.
In his normal state, his physical strength had reached the peak of human limits, surpassing even the seasoned veterans of the manor and rivaling aberrant demonic creatures like the Bloodscale Kobold and the Winged Kobold.
When using Momentum Slash, he could even briefly break through mortal constraints.
If he were to activate Battle Frenzy, with attribute stacking from prolonged combat, he should be able to completely surpass human limits and enter the extraordinary realm.
While such power still fell far short of the divine power wielded by the legendary transcendents, it was more than enough to deal with this rabble before him.
Though the rioters had been able to hold their own against the guards, they would crumble before him like fodder.
Even the giant would only require a bit more effort.
Moreover, with his current traits and various additional buffs, even if he were to lose, he could still retreat unscathed.
It was far better than sitting here waiting to die.
"Sir..."
With this thought, Roland turned to a passing guard.
"Could I borrow your spear for a moment? Later."
Before he could finish speaking, the guard respectfully offered his spear.
"Take it, Lord Roland!"
With that, the guard drew his sword and rushed toward the front lines.
"Lord Roland?"
Hearing this sudden honorific, Roland raised an eyebrow. He hefted the spear, preparing to activate Sprint and charge forward on horseback, when a cheer erupted from the city walls.
Looking up, he saw the mob that had been surging forward like a tide suddenly begin to retreat. Within moments, they had vanished into the vast darkness of the night.
"We won!"
"We defeated those monsters!"
"It's all thanks to Lord Roland!"
"That's right! We owe it all to Roland!"
Seeing the mob retreat, the surviving guards erupted in a frenzy of cheers, banging their weapons together in celebration.
The clang of metal echoed across the battlefield as all eyes turned toward the young figure standing before the shattered gate.
Roland, mounted on his horse.
"Roland!"
"Roland!"
"Roland!"
Amidst the deafening cheers, Darco finally rode up.
The young noble, gazing at the blood-soaked ground and the carnage, then turned to his familiar friend, momentarily stunned.
"What... exactly happened?"
As Darco struggled to comprehend the scene, deep within the distant forest, the black-robed figure Roland had noticed earlier stood motionless.
Silver moonlight outlined his gaunt silhouette. His golden, spectral eyes pierced through layers of shadows, past the fragmented walls, and finally locked onto Roland in the center of the crowd like a deadly arrow.
A complex storm of emotions churned within that gaze.
First, a sharp, assessing scrutiny.
Then, a hesitant bewilderment.
Finally, it settled into a chilling, ravenous desire.
(End of the Chapter)
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