Translator: CinderTL
Twilight descended over the desolate wilderness, shrouding it in an oppressive silence.
Nearly a thousand soldiers of the Golden Valley Kingdom stood motionless like bronze statues, their rough copper-striped armor absorbing the last rays of daylight and radiating a cold, suffocating aura.
The air seemed to solidify, broken only by the whistling wind that rustled through the withered grass and tightened the nerves of every soldier in the ranks.
The two sides faced each other silently across the open ground, the palpable tension almost suffocating.
Suddenly, a clear, deliberate clapping broke the stillness.
Clap, clap, clap.
The applause came from deep within the enemy formation, its rhythm mocking and arrogant.
As the sound echoed, the tightly packed ranks parted like living bronze water, creating a path.
A man in opulent robes, draped with an exquisitely embroidered shoulder cape, strode forward.
"Auston."
Roland narrowed his eyes, recognizing the familiar face and the massive bear crest embroidered in gold thread on the man's robes.
Auston, however, remained unfazed by the cold glint in Roland's eyes. A mocking smile stretched across his face as his gaze cut through the ranks of soldiers, locking precisely onto Roland.
"Magnificent! Truly magnificent!" the middle-aged noble declared loudly, his voice dripping with false admiration. "Decisive, ruthless, and with such keen perception! To think that someone like you could emerge from the 'fishermen' of the River Domain Nations... it's quite unexpected."
He deliberately emphasized the word "fishermen," his contempt unmistakable.
"A pity, though," Auston continued, spreading his hands as if stating an established fact. His tone suddenly turned icy, radiating bone-chilling coldness. "This desolate landscape may lack beauty, but it's spacious enough for a tomb. You ignorant fishermen, this is your final resting place."
Before the words could fully leave his lips, Roland moved.
Having confirmed Auston's identity and sensed his overflowing malice, Roland acted even before the noble could finish his arrogant declaration.
Another mithril short spear was drawn.
His entire body coiled like a fully drawn bow, gathering astonishing strength.
With a violent swing of his arm, the short spear transformed into a silver lightning bolt, tearing through the twilight with a piercing shriek as it hurtled straight toward Auston's face.
The strike was swift, precise, and merciless.
There was no pretense of negotiation, no regard for the difference in status, and no adherence to the etiquette of war. Only the most primal and efficient instinct for killing.
The arrogant sneer on Auston's face froze instantly.
His pupils contracted to pinpoints in terror as the lethal silver light rapidly expanded in his vision.
He had never imagined that anyone would dare launch such a decisive, ruthless, and fatal strike against him—a noble earl—while surrounded by his thousand-strong army.
The icy breath of death washed over him, shattering his sense of superiority and contempt into dust, leaving only primal fear.
He could even feel the razor-sharp wind pressure created by the mithril spearhead as it pierced the air.
The color drained from the noble's face, replaced by a deathly pallor of terror.
His earlier air of arrogant control vanished completely, replaced by a comical expression of horror and disbelief.
Just as the mithril short spear was about to pierce Auston's skull in the nick of time...
Boom!
A muffled, thunderous crash, like a heavy blow against leather, suddenly erupted.
A colossal figure, as sturdy as a mountain crag, materialized with blinding speed, positioning itself before the terrified Auston.
The mithril short spear, imbued with Roland's full force and hurtling with ferocious momentum, was effortlessly seized by a massive hand encased in a dark metal gauntlet.
The spear tip halted mere inches from Auston's breastplate, its violent impact vanishing as if swallowed by an abyss, dissipating into nothingness.
Roland's gaze sharpened, his keen eyes piercing the deepening twilight.
The newcomer was exceptionally tall and powerfully built, clad in heavy armor that appeared to be forged from a single piece of dark metal. Its archaic design exuded a mountain-like, oppressive aura.
His face was rugged, with a broad jaw and a scar bisecting his left eyebrow. His eyes remained as still as water, devoid of ripples.
"He is..." Roland murmured, frowning slightly as he studied the vaguely familiar face.
The giant lowered his head, examining the still-humming mithril short spear in his grasp, his gaze lingering on its faintly glowing surface.
"Exquisite craftsmanship," he remarked in a deep, even tone, devoid of emotion. "But..."
His tone shifted.
"The throwing technique, however, doesn't match the quality of the material. It's too direct, lacking variation... What a waste."
The burly man shook his head slightly, then raised his gaze and spoke in a deep voice.
"Drop your weapons and surrender. I might consider sparing your lives."
Before his words could fully sink in, Auston, standing behind him, shoved aside the guards and staggered forward.
His deathly pale face twisted with lingering terror, quickly replaced by a fierce rage.
"Leonard!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with residual fear.
"What are you hesitating for? Prince Lucius's orders were to slaughter them all, leaving not a single survivor! Do you dare tarnish His Highness's will here?"
Panting heavily, he pointed at Roland and the group behind him, his eyes venomous.
"These wretched fishermen must wash away their insult to the Golden Valley Kingdom's authority with their blood! Execute the order immediately!"
The man called Leonard stood with his back to Auston, his broad shoulders tensing imperceptibly for a moment.
His silent figure loomed heavy in the oppressive atmosphere.
His five fingers, encased in dark metal gauntlets, slowly tightened around the mithril short spear, the metal grinding together with a faint, teeth-grinding sound.
After a long moment, he turned around with deliberate slowness, his tranquil, water-like eyes sweeping over Auston's face, twisted with rage.
There was neither submission nor defiance in his gaze, only a profound, almost tangible weariness and resignation.
His jaw tightened, and the old scar bisecting his left eyebrow seemed to deepen in the twilight.
"I heard you, Earl Auston," Leonard's voice remained deep and steady, yet it carried an unspoken weight. His gaze flickered briefly over Roland and his companions, who stood ready for battle, before settling back on Auston's face. His tone was flat, but the suppressed tension was unmistakable.
"Then, as you wish."
"It's Leonard..." Reggie murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as Leonard and Auston spoke.
Reggie's words jolted Roland's memory. He suddenly recalled that this man was the Knight Academy mentor he had briefly met during his visit to the Golden Valley Kingdom's academy.
"Kid..."
Reggie slowly drew his longsword from his waist, his voice hushed.
"This guy's incredibly strong. He reached the Transcendent Realm years ago—a true powerhouse who's far beyond ordinary knights. He's on a completely different level."
"I sparred with him a few days ago while sightseeing... His defense is nearly impenetrable, and his strength is terrifying. That heavy armor feels weightless on him, and every punch and kick hits with the force of a mountain collapsing. Against him, ordinary attacks are meaningless... He's an extremely formidable opponent. I doubt I can hold him off for long."
"Once I engage him, you immediately lead the others to break through the encirclement. Understand?"
Roland shook his head slightly.
The surrounding encirclement of over a thousand soldiers was secondary.
More importantly, though the aura was faint, he clearly sensed it:
Another transcendent was lurking within the dense military formation.
Without completely eliminating both transcendents, there would be no chance of escape.
He quickly informed Reggie and his companions of the hidden transcendent's presence.
Before the others could fully process this information, Roland had already swiftly drawn the Mithril Longsword from his waist, its blade gleaming with a faint, ethereal light.
"Instructor Reggie!" he roared, launching himself at Leonard like an arrow released from a bow.
"That reckless brat!" Reggie muttered, but without hesitation, he surged forward, following close behind Roland.
"A futile struggle," Leonard said, shaking his head calmly as he watched Roland charge toward him.
Just as he prepared to counterattack, an anomaly occurred.
Leonard's brow furrowed as he felt an unusual sensation from the mithril short spear he gripped tightly.
The intricate patterns etched into the spear's shaft, which had previously seemed almost fused with the metal, suddenly began to glow without warning.
It wasn't a blinding light, but a cold, eerie blue luminescence.
Like a slumbering venomous serpent suddenly opening its eyes, the light surged along the pre-etched pathways, converging rapidly.
The eerie blue glow intensified in an instant, and a dangerous surge of energy pulsed from the spear's shaft, threatening to erupt.
(End of the Chapter)
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