Chapter 269
Chapter 269
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 269
Chapter Title: Extermination (1)
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The overcast sky showed no sign of the sun. Pillars of smoke rising from various spots mingled with the dark clouds, thickening the murkiness. The sounds of clashing weapons, screams, and shouts tangled chaotically over the plain choked by siege towers.
“Don’t retreat!”
“If we break through here, the east is finished! Push forward!”
Amid the chaos, officers’ cries echoed. The allied forces gathered under the banner proclaiming the downfall of Nebula Klazie blanketed the plain.
At its center stood the impregnable Pancia Fortress, once called the horn of the east. Alongside the simultaneous assault on the distant Pelgrand Mountains in the north, it was one of the largest branches on Nebula Klazie’s side.
Two months into the purge operation.
Cornered, Nebula Klazie had shifted strategy, abandoning medium and small branches to consolidate forces at large ones for desperate resistance. Confirming soldiers wouldn’t advance despite orders, an officer shouted again.
“Form ranks! Don’t you officers want to drive these bastards from our lands?!”
“I-it’s impossible. How could we against that...!”
But the soldiers refused to move forward. Even in a situation where victory seemed assured, no confidence could be found among them.
Capable commanders and the trebuchets relentlessly hurling boulders at the fortress failed to bolster their courage. The defenders guarding the gate were simply too strong.
Strong individuals existed regardless of the Star’s Blessing. Though reliance on divine power had become prevalent lately, Nebula Klazie was an organization boasting ancient history. Beastmen in white heavy armor shouted provocatively.
“Come on, you cowards!”
“Is this all you’ve got to break the church?!”
It was the Archbishop’s personal guard. Only twenty strong, yet utterly impenetrable. As Nebula Klazie’s vanguard that had felled countless foes, they shone even in defense.
Troops who couldn’t withstand the pressure and charged were slaughtered the moment they crossed the defensive line. The most terrifying among them was Archbishop Fantasion. The massive were-deer at the defenders’ forefront roared at the allied forces.
“Ignorant fools, why can’t you comprehend that nothing changes in the end—?!”
The church had twelve particularly powerful figures, called Archbishops.
His booming voice swept the battlefield like ripples on a lake. Approaching soldiers hesitated and fell back. Around him lay hundreds of gruesomely dismembered corpses piled like mountains.
“M-monster.”
“How do we take down something like that...!”
Muscles bulging across his body seemed ready to tear through his armor. The deer head atop his massive frame resembled a god worshipped in some religion.
In Fantasion’s hands gripped a massive double-headed axe. Its two-meter blade still greedily scattered sharpness despite drinking the blood of two knight orders.
The Star’s Blessing had long vanished from the initial bombardment, but it didn’t matter. No one among the allied forces surrounding Fantasion thought themselves the ones ‘encircling’ him.
“Archbishop...!”
The supreme commander clenched his fist. Blood trickled from where nails dug in. The longer the fight dragged, the more unfavorable the situation grew. Though their numbers overwhelmed, troops were depleting without meaningful gains.
At this rate, demoralized soldiers might even flee. It was regrettable that nine more such monsters lurked ahead. Checking his pocket watch for the hundredth time, he twisted his lips.
“Still far off...!”
“Think you can win without divine power?!”
Fantasion shouted again. No trace of the were-deer’s characteristic gentleness showed as he swung the axe one-handed.
The allied forces only retreated, refusing to close in. Their utterly broken morale and loss of will were pathetic to behold. Fantasion eyed his subordinates.
“Looks like it’s time. Kill the commander, and they’ll crumble.”
“We’ve awaited your word.”
The guards smirked sinisterly. The moment had arrived. They’d held the designated defensive line without advancing further.
It was Fantasion’s plan for a counterattack. Strike when they grew careless and shatter their forces. Slaughter the command structure, and even a massive army would be helpless.
“Move when I signal.”
Fantasion murmured softly. Subordinates gripping weapons nodded. His gleaming deer eyes targeted the distant command tent. The instant he kicked off the ground to charge—
KABOOM!!! Suddenly, the gate behind Fantasion exploded.
“Gah! W-what’s happening?!”
“Aaaagh!!”
Rock fragments flew viciously. Several beastmen collapsed, struck in the back of the head or spine. Fantasion whipped around in alarm, eyes widening. From within the dust cloud, a massive black shadow strode forward.
“You...!”
“Haa... you made me tense, Sword Saint.”
The supreme commander sighed in relief. Fortunately, it ended before too late. Through the settling dust emerged a massive were-tiger. It was Jaifa Tergeung, renowned as the strongest Sword Saint in history.
“Washed off in blood, it’s better. Sewers are no place to walk.”
Jaifa muttered to himself. A dozen elite beastmen followed behind him. The special forces unit Jaifa led had infiltrated via the fortress sewer to demolish the west gate from inside.
“Blood...?”
A foreboding chill raised Fantasion’s fur. His gaze shifted inside the gate. The inner keep, which should have been evacuating, had become a blood-soaked hell.
Believers handling production and chores— so-called civilians— all lay slaughtered gruesomely. A trembling voice leaked from Fantasion’s gaping lips.
“You bastard... what have you done...!”
“Pulled some weeds.”
Jaifa replied indifferently. He’d cut down every believer he encountered, regardless of age or gender. Fantasion protested.
“Slaughtering the defenseless like that— and you call yourself Sword Saint?!”
“Catch.”
Instead of replying, Jaifa tossed something. Thud. The lump flew through the air and landed before Fantasion. Veins like tree roots bulged on his throat.
“Oh...! Ohhh!”
“Looked a lot like you. Useless skills, though.”
Jaifa shook blood from his glaive. Kneeling on one knee, Fantasion cradled the lump. A deer head with immature antlers. Fantasion’s only son, twenty this year. Jaifa continued.
“No mercy for trash like you. You’ve tasted hell alive— now off to the real one.”
“Jaaaifa—!!”
Fantasion roared. Jaifa silently gripped his glaive. The giants from both sides shot toward each other without warning.
Jaifa and Fantasion collided precisely midway. CLANGGG—! A deafening crack echoed as if splitting the sky.
“Kill them all!”
“Let none escape!”
Swinging weapons blurred. Each glaive-axe clash unleashed metallic shrieks. Jaifa and Fantasion wielded siege-engine-like colossi as lightly as daggers.
“M-my god.”
“That’s the Sword Saint...!”
Gasps erupted across the allied ranks. The battle between Archbishop Fantasion and Jaifa seemed unreal. All they could do was watch the legendary fight overwhelming them. After about twenty exchanges—
“Hmph!”
BOOM! Suddenly, Jaifa kicked off the ground in a leap. The axe targeting his neck sliced empty air horizontally. Fantasion retracted instantly, but for Jaifa, that split-second sufficed to end it.
“Your axe got heavier, deer!”
Jaifa spun forward, slashing with his glaive. The blade, hitherto blocked by the axe, finally bit flesh. Shlick! As he landed, Fantasion’s right arm soared into the air.
“Kuh...!”
Fantasion grimaced. Spurt! Gushing blood splashed Jaifa’s face. Joy and despair crossed the faces of watching allies and believers. Limb loss in a duel of equals was virtual defeat.
“Hm?!”
But that held only within common sense. Fantasion charged horns-first without retreat. Jaifa, struck squarely, flew like rammed by a battering ram. KABOOM!! His body crashed into the wall over a hundred paces away, booming thunderously.
“You...!”
“Die!”
Fantasion’s double-axe followed the same path. Jaifa, embedded in the wall, barely twisted aside. KABOOM! Thunder roared again. Glancing aside revealed the axe blade embedded, having shaved some beard. Jaifa chuckled delightedly.
“Tenacity’s useful.”
“I’ll chew and swallow your guts!”
Clank! Fantasion opened his palm, and the axe returned. Jaifa rose.
His spit mixed thick blood and several white teeth. Indeed, reason for allied struggles. Staring at Fantasion, he sighed.
“Pity.”
“Begging for life now is useless. I’ll grant you the most agonizing death!”
“Fantasion, was it? Wanted a longer scrap with you.”
Regret dripped from Jaifa’s voice. Fantasion furrowed his brow.
“What?”
“Can’t allow it. This is war, not a duel.”
Jaifa muttered cryptically again. Judging it a stall, Fantasion lunged— when a whistling sound pierced from his flank.
“What...”
Fantasion turned toward the noise. A human youth in dark blue uniform charged him, hand on sword hilt.
Small stature, but movements unnatural. As Fantasion turned his head then body— Shlick! Wind grazed skin, blood spraying from his side.
“Grancia!”
Fantasion’s eyes widened. Grazed by wind alone. He instantly deduced the attacker from that strike. Facing Schlieffen, he bellowed in rage.
“Punk—brat—!”
Fantasion raised his axe. One arm lost, yet unthinkable to lose to greenhorn. As he swung to cleave Schlieffen’s head— Crunch! An odd sound came from the earlier side wound.
“This...”
Inspecting the injury, Fantasion flinched. The slashed spot turned blue. Tissue that should self-repair and staunch blood froze and crumbled.
Schlieffen exploited the gap, slashing again. Shlick! Blue lines etched across Fantasion’s limbs, wounds freezing.
Only now noticed the sword in Schlieffen’s hand. The longsword’s blade, pale blue like glacier, bore ancient magic runes. Fantasion murmured ruefully.
“Pale Lord...!”
“Wasted on a brat, no matter how you look.”
Jaifa chuckled. No sword-for-life who didn’t know that blade. One of Doron’s seven masterpieces, the frost-infused Pale Lord— Grancia heirloom.
Schlieffen had received Pale Lord upon joining the purge. Regaining senses, Fantasion swung his raised axe down.
BOOM!! The blade sank deep, cracking earth. Yet Schlieffen dodged by a paper’s breadth. He thrust upward predictably, but slowed Fantasion couldn’t react. Pierce! Pale Lord softly entered under his jaw.
“Mmph!”
The blade tip protruding through the palate scattered cold blue glow. As Fantasion tried knee-kicking Schlieffen— Crack! Twisting the blade, Schlieffen shattered the frozen maw.
“Archbishop!!”
Guards cried in horror. Fantasion’s teeth tore from gums in chunks. Dozens of tongue fragments flew. Intruding chill eroded his brain via the cut surface.
“Ugh...”
Fantasion’s movements halted briefly. Schlieffen seized it. Gathering power swiftly, he twisted waist and slashed upward. Scraaape! Sword wind scraping ground engulfed Fantasion. As the blade ravaged innards, his eyes widened.
“...You.”
Fantasion froze. Looking down, Schlieffen’s face remained impassive.
Silence fell over the battlefield. The axe slipped from Fantasion’s hand. Spurt! From heart to left trapezius, the gash opened, blood fountaining.
Thud... The massive were-deer slowly toppled.
“We got him!”
“The Empire’s Rising Star felled that monster...!”
“Sword Saint Jaifa! Grancia forever!!”
Fantasion moved no more. Despair etched the guards’ faces. Allied cheers shook the heavens.
This marked Schlieffen’s second archbishop slain. Worth celebrating, yet he silently wiped blood from his blade. Turning to Jaifa, he asked.
“Any more enemies to handle?”
“Your eyes finally look usable.”
Jaifa grinned. The sword-blue eyes churned like a storm sweeping all. Astonishing growth.
Since major purge began, Schlieffen approached Sword Saint faster than any. Pointing at allied forces, he said.
“None. They’ve got work too.”
“Understood.”
“Good job. Prepare soon and formally challenge for Sword Saint. I’ll wait.”
Schlieffen nodded. Allied troops eliminating guards entered the fortress. Unceasing footsteps and screams heralded the long battle’s end.
“Damn. How much more to squeeze today.”
Ronan sighed. So much blood drawn his head spun. Beside him whirred a bizarre machine Didikan devised.
A small tube pierced Ronan’s right arm. With each machine pulse, red blood rose through it. As he lay staring at the dim tent ceiling—
“Pwaa...”
A familiar cry sounded. Suddenly the flap parted, a massive black head poking in. Ronan’s eyes rounded.
“Cita.”
“Pwuuung...”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”
Cita worriedly rubbed Ronan’s cheek. Ronan stroked Cita’s head. Even palm outstretched couldn’t fully grasp it now. In two months, Cita had grown to convincing small dragon size.
From guzzling blood everywhere. As Ronan soothed Cita vigorously—
“Ronan. You in there?”
“Yes. Come in.”
Suddenly the entrance flew open, pale men entering. Shadow Archduke and subordinates. Lifting only his head while lying, Ronan raised a brow.
“What’s up?”
“Sorry to interrupt when busy. Need you to step up.”