Chapter 156
Chapter 156
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 156
Chapter Title: Defeating the Sword Master
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Paaaat!
Reflexively summoning mana, Prabow coated his longsword with it. He predicted the trajectory of the spear flying straight at him and struck down hard at one point.
Shiiik!
The moment the sharp sword light drew a cross-section of light like a waterfall and fell, the spear twisted to the right as if it were alive.
“……!?”
As Prabow recoiled in shock, the spear embedded itself in the shoulder of an elf knight standing behind him.
“Keuk!”
“Lerdel!”
The elf knights were horrified to see the spear pierce straight through the tough, sturdy chain mail from front to back.
Shuuuak!
“Huh!?”
The elf knights' shock didn't end there.
They watched, mouths agape, as the spear that had made a fist-sized hole in their comrade's shoulder flew back to where it came from on its own.
“Magic spear!”
Prabow cried out upon realizing the spear's true nature. At the same moment, the spear was sucked into the hand of the knight charging on the black horse like a gale.
Kuaaa...!
Vampire bloodlust surged from Eugene's entire body as he gripped Madarajika, which had transformed from a throwing spear into a long spear.
The distance between Eugene and Prabow was about ten meters.
Tutu-tutu-tu!
Closing the gap in the blink of an eye, Eugene released the reins of Silion, spun Madarajika in the air, and brought it smashing down.
Kwarrak!
The spear strike, combined with Silion's charging speed, fell precisely toward Prabow's helmet.
A ferocious blow that would chill even a Sword Master like Prabow to the bone!
Yet Prabow proved his skill by raising his mana-coated longsword at an angle.
Block and deflect, then sidestep and thrust.
It was basic swordsmanship, but timing it perfectly was an advanced technique.
For a Sword Master like Prabow, however, it was easier than scooping stew with a spoon—and he had a history of sending dozens of knights and warriors to their graves with it.
‘Aim for the armpit gap!’
The instant the spear and longsword were about to clash, Prabow envisioned the sequence of events in his mind. The elf Sword Master had no doubt his strategy would succeed.
Kwang!
An unbelievable explosion erupted from the clash of spear and sword.
Overwhelming power.
Before it, even the pinnacle techniques of a Sword Master and the pure mana control of a pure-blood elf were rendered meaningless.
Cheeeeng!
The mana-coated longsword shattered into dozens of metal fragments, scattering remnants of mana.
And through the falling metal shards and mana sparks, Madarajika descended upon Prabow's helmet.
Cheeeeng!
Intense pain transmitting from inside his skull caused Prabow to lose consciousness and slump forward over his saddle.
“Huhuk!”
“Sir Prabow……!?”
The elf knights froze in unison upon seeing Elan's proud Sword Master defeated in a single blow.
“Kwoooar!”
“Come at us! Grass-eaters!”
In that moment, Beowulf warriors charged in.
Even so, the elf knights, having lost their Sword Master and their will to fight, couldn't even think of facing the Beowulfs.
“Disarm them all and take them prisoner. Beat anyone who resists.”
At Eugene's command, the Beowulf warriors reluctantly dragged the elf knights down from their horses.
Prestige, profit, honor.
The battle ended without the elves gaining any of them.
* * *
“Ughhh…….”
After being unconscious for a full half-day, Prabow finally opened his eyes.
“Kuk!”
For a moment, the excruciating pain at the crown of his head made him grimace and grit his teeth. It felt exactly like a large nail had been driven into his forehead.
“Master, master! Elf uncle woke up!”
“I know.”
Hearing the cheeky voice and the cold one, Prabow turned his head.
“……!?”
A frivolously appearing spirit and a red-eyed young man with long, jet-black hair entered Prabow's view.
A spirit and a vampire.
Stunned by the unimaginable combination, Prabow momentarily forgot his pain and stared blankly at them.
The spirit then began laughing mischievously.
“Kihehehe! Not elf uncle, but unicorn! Horn on your head! Kekekeke!”
For an instant, Prabow forgot he was an elf and felt an urge to smack the spirit.
“Hmm. It does look a bit off. Still, you're in one piece, so that's a relief.”
Though he couldn't understand the foreign tongue, the vampire's tone annoyingly grated on him. Prabow adopted a dignified voice.
“Who might you be, sir? You appear to be a knight from a prestigious house. A knight of honor should surely show the proper courtesy…….”
“Nonsense, still the same. Head not cleared yet? Another hit to straighten you out?”
“W-what?”
“I'm Yan Eugene Bartla. Courtesy—who shows it first?”
“Eut.”
Eyes widening, Prabow soon placed his palm over his right chest and bowed politely.
“My apologies for the rudeness in my haste. This knight is…….”
“I know. Elan's Sword Master, Sir Prabow.”
“…….”
Prabow bit his lip hard, hesitating.
Hearing the title of Sword Master from the man who had felled him in one strike.
Never had that honorific felt so shameful.
But before being a Sword Master, he was a high-ranking noble representing Elan, well aware of his responsibilities.
“Your Highness Bartla. If I may be so bold, what of the other knights who came with me?”
“All fine. Treating them honorably as prisoners. Ah, one’s in bad shape. The one pierced by my spear. Fed him mana crystals—didn't die.”
“Mana crystals? Your Highness! Our pure-blood kin must not consume mana crystals. Impure ones disrupt the mana in our…….”
“Pure ones. My mage made them.”
“Your Highness's mage…….”
“Got one like that. Anyway, the pierced one’s still breathing.”
“Phew~ I deeply thank Your Highness's mercy. You truly know honor, a splendid lord. I'm impressed.”
Elan's Sword Master bowed sincerely once more.
His preconceptions from dealing with nobles like Baron Mondelio were completely shattered.
Though of the night clan and not Brantia, such honorable knights were exceedingly rare regardless of race or nationality.
But that was only because he didn't know Eugene at all.
‘Hmm. Keeping them alive makes ransom way easier. Two mana crystals for big gains. Anyway, for backstabbing from behind, he's got some class.’
From what the captured elf knights said, Prabow was among Elan's top ten nobles.
Born of noble blood, a Sword Master with exceptional swordsmanship and lofty spirit, popular among other nobles too.
‘Elves with no foothold in Brantia proper—clashing now just hurts me. Treat 'em well till I squeeze the ransom. One Mondelio's enough to kill outright.’
With that thought, Eugene softened his gaze a bit.
“Then, Sir Prabow. A few questions.”
“Already defeated by Your Highness. I'll answer faithfully, save betraying Elan.”
“Good. Bartla ducal house—sending mercenaries disguised as bandits. Elan's doing?”
“We funded Mondelio and condoned his actions, so I can't claim no responsibility.”
“Hmm. Bartla ducal house—driven to a dead end. That right?”
“Yes. However…… It may sound like an excuse, but we told him not to occupy. Elan needed the Bartla ducal house's cooperation, not subjugation.”
“Hm.”
It matched what that knight Roberi had said—seemed truthful.
Yet doubts lingered.
“Even if the plan succeeded, they wouldn't cooperate. The ducal elders are arrogant fools. Of course, much improved now.”
From the way Eugene patted Wolfslaughter, Prabow could guess the circumstances.
With that monstrous power, the elders and all couldn't have breathed.
“We didn't think mere rescue would make the Bartla ducal house cooperate with Elan either. So we prepared a gift they couldn't refuse.”
“Gift? What?”
“That is…….”
Prabow hesitated briefly, then sighed and continued.
“Phew! You're already Bartla's new lord, so hiding it is pointless. Elan's gift was… one of Bartla's four great heirlooms.”
“What? That armor?”
“Huh! How do you know of Armis, Your Highness!?”
“Armis?”
“……?”
To the widely surprised, head-tilting Prabow, Eugene showed Wolfslaughter, Madarajika, and Paracletus in turn.
“Got three heirlooms already. Obviously know the last one's armor.”
“Th-this!”
Prabow was shocked to his core.
In that moment, he realized why a night clan figure from the continent had ascended as the new Bartla duke—and knew the identity of Elan's last remaining heirloom.
“Fate. This is fate. Haa……!”
Letting out a long sigh, Prabow straightened and spoke sternly.
“We planned to demand Elan's support in exchange for returning Armis, one of Bartla's four great heirlooms, to the ducal house. But fearing outright refusal or later backtracking, we bribed Mondelio.”
“Hmm. Probably— no, definitely would have.”
Given the shameless attitude the ducal elders had shown him, it was believable.
“But that armor. Not a waste to give? These are all top-tier.”
Even the least among the three, Wolfslaughter, was a master sword any knight Eugene knew would thumbs-up.
Few swords forged from star iron existed in the world anyway.
“If 'top-tier' means Armis's defense and functions, yes. Superb. But for us, it's practically useless.”
“Hmm?”
“Armis is a demonic armor that drinks the wearer's blood. That's why every past Bartla duke died young.”
“……!?”
Stunned by the unheard tale—not even from the ducal elders or druid Pitamoras, the living history book.
“While Armis was with the ducal house, Bartla dukes wore it only in dire straits. Unaffected by mana-coated strikes, nullifies all curses and spells—truly the strongest artifact. But ordinary humans exhaust their blood in one wear.”
“Then. Don't they just die?”
“Humans have mana crystals. Top-grade ones let them endure. But crystals have little effect on elves. No one could master Armis.”
“Hoo. I see.”
“Yes. But Your Highness is night clan. Far less blood than other races. So probably even you…….”
“I'll be fine.”
“Yes?”
“Got something for that. Don't worry about me.”
Eugene flashed a confident smile.
Can't wear due to low blood?
One of his awakening abilities was absorbing nearby blood mist.
With that, no demonic armor would ever lack blood.
And.
‘If desperate, suck the blood of the fools in front anyway.’
Battlefields overflowed with enemies ripe for draining—what's the issue?
Good thing I'm a vampire.
(To be continued)