A Knight Stands Alone Against Forty Thousand
The Barriantus Kingdom forces awaiting the Ether Empire Army numbered a total of fifty thousand. They had thrown every ounce of the nation's military might against the Ether Empire Army. Yet even so, their strength was far from formidable. Most were poorly trained conscripts. Still, they had no choice but to fight this way. The Ether Empire Army still had hundreds of thousands back home even if they lost here, but for Barriantus, defeat meant the end.
From the start, the Ether Empire Army took the offensive. It wasn't some brute-force all-out charge. Instead, they used small elite units to rip through the Barriantus lines like a slime devouring water-soaked prey.
Three of the Ether Empire's Seven Swords—renowned Masters—had come here. Argin hadn't even stepped forward yet, but the mere sight of a Master on the battlefield was devastating for morale, regardless of their actual prowess. When those Masters pierced the lines, claiming hundreds of lives in a single foray before withdrawing unscathed, spirits plummeted.
As deserters began outnumbering the fallen from Ether Empire attacks, Barriantus could endure no more and launched a counteroffensive. Roughly forty thousand strong advanced—only to be blocked by a lone unknown young knight named Argin Tempest.
To those who didn't know him, it looked utterly mad. But what about those who did? I watched leisurely from Akasha Territory. In truth, I was the one who proposed this tactic. Argin needed to rack up major achievements this time. He was probably going along with it thinking it was just my orders, but he'd have a rough idea by now.
"You cannot pass here alive."
It wasn't a loud declaration, but Argin's low, resonant voice halted the Barriantus vanguard. It wasn't mere hesitation—hundreds were stricken with terror, rendered combat-ineffective on the spot.
"What are you doing? Get up!"
Conscripts from the rear, oblivious to the truth, raised a clamor, but the front lines couldn't advance a single step.
Finally, a vanguard knight, fed up, spurred his horse forward with a shout. "I'll sever that head of yours..."
He never finished. His head tumbled to the ground. Even from over a hundred meters away, the sight sent the Barriantus front reeling backward in shock. No one knew how Argin had done it. He'd merely swung his sword through empty air.
A few more knights charged, only to meet the same fate. "He's just one man—charge!" Officers in the rear drove the conscripts forward after some relayed command.
"Move, and die."
Argin's pressure erupted again. The vanguard's legs buckled, collapsing in place.
While Barriantus stalled against this single foe, the Ether Empire Army observed from a distant high vantage.
"A monster, through and through."
Mallus, standing beside Empress Shartia, shuddered. "A monster on our side? Mind your words, Sir Mallus."
"My apologies... Your Majesty."
Mallus apologized at once, and nearby knights consoled him. "He's not wrong, Your Majesty. We've faced Sir Argin ourselves—we know his skill best. He's beyond human limits."
"To think one man could best all seven of us at once. And even then, he wasn't at full strength."
"Thank the gods he's ours. If he were the enemy... chills."
These were three of the Empire's Seven Swords—Masters all.
"Do you gentlemen know?"
Shartia scanned them, puffing out her chest proudly. "I've heard Akasha Territory has several even stronger than Sir Argin."
Not something for her to boast about per se, but since I was her patron, maybe it fit? The Seven Swords saw it differently.
"What nonsense is—"
"Stronger than Sir Argin? Who?"
Despite the empress's words, their reactions were explosive.
"Well, there's Howard for one."
Shartia had heard from Jayke and glimpsed Howard herself during her time in Akasha Territory. Of course, she hadn't believed at first that the loafer slinking around town or boozing at the tavern—a middle-aged vagrant—was the legendary Howard Callista.
"Sir Howard Callista?"
"Yes, he's in Akasha Territory. My teacher said he's friends with Viscount Akasha. I've met him a few times myself."
The Seven Swords' jaws dropped. Howard Callista was practically a myth now.
"And Sir Argin's father-in-law, Uncle Eltis, is stronger too. I saw them fight once—they went at it all night, nearly killing each other."
To earn marriage approval, Argin had taken a beating from Eltis till dawn—Shartia had watched. It was more thrashing than fight, but each move transcended ordinary martial arts; she'd been mesmerized from afar all night.
"Who's this Eltis?"
"Hm... the local tavern owner?"
The Seven Swords' brows furrowed. Shartia's tales defied their common sense.
"Your Majesty, that's too much jesting."
"Why would I joke with you knights? Ask Sir Argin later if you doubt."
She spoke plain facts, utterly confident.
"And I've heard Viscount Akasha himself is incredibly strong."
There, the Seven Swords nodded. He'd shown world-shaking power once, artifact-aided or not.
"My teacher mentioned a few others too, but I haven't met them."
"What is Akasha Territory?"
Humans stronger than legendary Grand Masters scattered like roadside pebbles? Their heads spun.
"The best place to live in the world. If I become Nebra's ruler, I'll make my nation just like it."
In her short stay, Shartia had learned and felt so much beyond swords—not things she'd imagined as Nebra's princess.
As Shartia chatted with three of the Seven Swords, Argin clashed fully with Barriantus. When the vanguard froze, even their knight orders advanced—but couldn't breach Argin's wall.
Then Argin moved. From afar, it was like a shark plunging into a pond of loaches. He shattered Barriantus's front line in under ten minutes, with over two thousand casualties.
Argin Tempest was recreating Howard Callista's ancient legend. Two thousand from forty thousand seemed minor, but terror spreads fast—especially among conscripts, not elites.
Having witnessed slaughter, not battle, they dropped weapons and fled en masse. Beheading deserters did nothing; even zealots fled the horror.
Argin pierced the layered human wall, severed the Barriantus supreme commander's head, and returned—like a child popping into a candy shop for a treat.
As Argin claimed that head, trouble stirred at the Ether Empire's rear: Barriantus's desperate gambit. Their elite suicide squad of two thousand struck from behind.
"They're here at last."
Empress Shartia looked as if she'd been waiting.
"Sir Argin's tactical insight is remarkable."
This was exactly as Argin predicted in briefing—though I had scouted and informed him of Barriantus's plans. All countermeasures were set. A small raid against a prepared host was suicide.
Yet Barriantus's squad didn't falter upon confirming defenses. They had an ace.
The archmage who'd crushed Nebra's royals. His magic had enabled Barriantus's standout victories in Nebra's civil war. By my rankings, ninth strongest human now—diminished from peak, but formidable. Jean Kales, the Perfume Archmage.
Unlike most mages, he'd long researched scents, fusing them with spells into a unique theory.
Jean Kales's wide-area Perfume Magic unfurled over Ether lines. A floral scent wafted from nowhere.
Soldiers inhaling it lost strength, succumbing to irresistible sleep.
"Block your noses!"
Knights resisted, shouting orders—but too late. This was how Barriantus had triumphed before. Jean's Perfume Magic struck before noses could seal, even if anticipated.
And fighting with plugged noses? Hell for vigorous combat.
Before Ether's front crumbled, two figures appeared at the suicide squad's rear—not Shartia's old guard, but newcomers.
They sliced through like wind, splitting the rear, then charged straight for Jean Kales.
"Stop them!"
The startled commander bellowed, but their breakthrough mirrored Argin's—hundreds of blocking knights felled in minutes.
Then an overwhelming scent engulfed them. "Impressive, Ether Empire. I didn't expect knights this strong. But today, you'll pay with your lives."
Jean Kales loved Barriantus deeply. He'd rejoiced at Nebra's civil war rebirth, aiding greatly—earning founding hero status, wealth, position. Now, he feared its end. As last resort, he'd joined to assassinate Empress Shartia, nearly succeeding.
But these two were too powerful—stronger than the Seven Swords, he thought. His ultimate trump card activated: a scent lethal to any human on inhalation.
Yet the pair pierced it unfazed. Before Jean's wide eyes could blink, his head soared.
Magic dispelled, Ether forces encircled and crushed the remnants effortlessly. But the two slayers had vanished.
"Did you see those knights?"
The Seven Swords hadn't fought but watched it all.
"Who didn't?"
"That realm... right?"
"Yes. They've surpassed Master."
"Empress said they were sudden guards—loaned from Akasha Territory."
"How many Grand Masters does Akasha even have?"
No answer came. But chills and cold sweat ran down the Seven Swords' spines at Akasha's might.
Those two were Ben Bezarel's loaned modified humans—optimized for the Perfume Archmage. Mission accomplished.
Thus ended the first clash with Barriantus. They'd expended their greatest forces. Nearly defenseless, their lands fell swiftly; Ether reclaimed old Nebra capital in just seven days post-war declaration.