Iron Warrior
Knight Commander Agnar Balderte, the "Iron Warrior." In the Empire, renowned for having the world's greatest military might, he was counted among the top five knights in terms of pure combat prowess.
Of course, without pitting them against each other in single combat, there was no way to know for sure if they truly were the Empire's five strongest knights—but that alone spoke volumes about their exceptional skill and towering reputation.
Clarice knew his name and face well, even though she'd never met him before.
"It's an honor that the young lady knows my name."
Agnar flashed a light smile as he overpowered the duke's sword—which had been clashing against his own—with sheer force.
"!"
Elcarus staggered back, pushed by superior strength, but he nimbly adjusted his stance mid-retreat, leaving no openings.
Agnar, who had been probing for a gap, immediately recognized there was none and gave up with a leisurely chuckle.
"The old Duke Levatein used to have a sharper edge to him. Age really doesn't lie, does it? You're still seasoned as ever, though."
Unlike Agnar, who tossed out the half-joking remark with casual ease, Elcarus Levatein remained utterly serious.
It might have been a difference in temperament, but more than anything, there was a clear gap in their skills.
Even at the peak of his powers, Elcarus wouldn't have found this an easy fight—and now, past fifty, facing Agnar at the height of his prime was a tall order in itself.
"...Step back, Clarice."
Yet Elcarus refused to yield. If he retreated, Agnar would slaughter the soldiers—and more importantly, his precious daughter now stood behind him.
"I'll handle this one."
He absolutely could not back down. Steadying his breath and stance once more, he channeled the power of his spirits.
But Elcarus was mistaken about one thing.
"...You can't do it alone, Father."
Levatein's golden child, the baby girl so dear to Elcarus that he wouldn't let the dust touch her eyes, was no longer someone who needed his protection.
"I'll join you."
Levatein Ancient Sword Style, First Form.
⟨Blazing Flames⟩
Flames erupted around Clarice's greatsword with a whoosh. But these weren't ordinary flames—they were molten lava, bubbling and hissing.
The lava's heat ignited the lingering gunpowder dust on the battlefield, sending sparks bursting around Clarice like fireworks. It looked as if the flames themselves were guarding her.
"Oh ho."
Agnar seemed intrigued by Clarice, a pleased smile spreading across his face.
"I came expecting to cross swords with Duke Levatein, but now you're the one catching my interest."
"...You'd do well not to underestimate me."
With a sharp retort, Clarice leaped forward. She shot out like an arrow loosed from its string, wrapping her blade in seething lava.
KAANG!!
Her strike targeted Agnar's jaw from straight ahead, swung with such speed it was hard to believe she wielded a greatsword—it moved like a shortsword.
The sword strike unleashed a surge of lava that engulfed Agnar.
But the sound that rang out at the same moment was off. It was as if something had blocked it completely.
Clarice furrowed her brow at the sharp vibration traveling up her arms.
"...Much better."
Incredibly, Agnar had parried her blade effortlessly with his own sword. And he wasn't done—he began pressing down on Clarice's blade with overwhelming force.
"Youth brings spirit. Makes this fun."
Clarice panicked inwardly but kept her focus.
'The Empire's elite aren't all talk, after all.'
She immediately exploited her weapon's advantage. Her greatsword's blade was far broader than Agnar's arming sword—wide enough to withstand a stomp.
KAANG!
Clarice stomped hard on her own blade, shaking off Agnar's sword. No matter his superior arm strength, suddenly bearing the force of her leg was no easy feat.
Human legs were far stronger than arms, after all.
Agnar was momentarily overpowered, pushed back and unable to press Clarice further.
"...Not bad instincts."
But Clarice's move wasn't just about her weapon.
JJJEERRRNG!!
Pushed back by her clever maneuver, Agnar had to block a heavy incoming strike from the side.
"You can't focus only on my daughter, can you?"
It was Elcarus Levatein. Somehow surging with more power than before, he began bearing down on Agnar with greater force.
Agnar was surprised—and intrigued—that the Lion of Levatein still had this in him.
"...Father-daughter team-up? Now this is interesting."
Even in this disadvantageous position, Agnar didn't lose his smile. And he muttered something ominous.
"Guess I can get serious now."
Agnar adjusted his grip. He'd been holding the hilt normally, but now he lifted his thumb slightly atop it.
And then.
Spirit Manifestation.
KUGUGUGU—
The entire area trembled violently. Clarice felt it through her whole body and panicked inwardly in shock.
'Just from revealing his spirit power...?'
Agnar had summoned his spirit's power, manifesting it physically.
"Ruler of the Boundary."
⟨ Archspirit ⟩
The earth shook as a mighty spirit emerged. A colossal giant shrouded entirely in misty fog.
Clarice knew at once it wasn't an ordinary spirit.
'An Archspirit!'
The Archspirit of Mist, Ruler of the Boundary. That was Agnar Balderte's spirit.
"Now we're getting serious."
Agnar raised his sword.
"Try blocking this."
The giant raised its own blade in sync.
Jerugasias Style, Third Form.
⟨ Vermilion Sword ⟩
KWAGAGAAGAGAK!!
The Empire's most common sword style—and among its countless techniques, the most perfected. Created by Jerugasias Ellic, a genius swordsman of the Empire's past, it was a tremendously powerful and refined art, made by the man once called the greatest swordsman before Hakodate Karin the Sword Star appeared.
Composed of seven forms, mastering even one elevated a swordsman's skill by leaps and bounds, each fraught with trials.
Most could only handle the First Form, Red Sword, or Second Form, Blue Sword.
From the third form on, learning it meant you'd already reached a high realm. Even among senior knights, few knew the third.
Each form's power grew exponentially, and the third form, surpassing Red and Blue Swords...
Too fast to follow with the eye, it tore through the air with devastating force, slashing across the front in an instant.
Not just Clarice—even Elcarus Levatein couldn't react in time.
They'd braced for the swing, but the timing was wildly offbeat from their expectations.
That misstep came from Agnar's exquisitely precise feint. Normally, great power telegraphs through tensed muscles and heavy breaths—but Agnar had used that against them in a psychological ploy.
By fooling their senses with breath and posture, then striking on the unexpected offbeat, reaction was impossible.
"Clarice!!"
The misty sword qi targeted Clarice. She tried to block late, but having fallen for the mind game, it was too slow.
KWAAAAAAAAANG──────────!!!
The qi engulfed her, thick fog blanketing the area.
Unable to see through the mist, Elcarus's face hardened in dread. Even if she'd blocked his spirit-empowered strike at the last second, the internal damage would be catastrophic.
"I told you to block it, and you did."
Clarice's eyes widened at the scene before her.
"......!"
A young man stood in front of her. Holding his sword in reverse grip, he'd parried Agnar Balderte's blade without a scratch, a smile on his boyish face.
"What now?"
It was Seong Hyun-jin, who should have left Levatein territory by now.
When the Cloud Mist sword qi closed in, Clarice thought death had come. She'd reacted late, knowing it was futile.
It drove home how the world brimmed with the strong—far too many. Regretting her lapse into Agnar's psychological trap, she braced herself.
Or so she thought.
"H-How... Why are you here...?"
Facing death, only to be saved by someone who shouldn't be here—Seong Hyun-jin—left Clarice stunned in every sense.
Shock was natural, but his heroic arrival at this impossible moment, saving her life... it was straight out of legend. Like the Sword Star among the Palstar Heroes, whom she admired.
"Felt like you needed backup. Hope I didn't butt in."
"N-No, that's not—"
"Good."
Seong Hyun-jin lowered his reverse-gripped sword in a diagonal slash.
"I'll handle this guy. Clean up here with your father."
"A-Ah, I'll help too!"
"Appreciate the thought."
He turned to Clarice.
"Fighting guys like him? Solo's easier."
"...I see."
"You do your part. In a melee, the commander's role matters most."
Clarice didn't argue further, though frustration burned inside. He'd saved her life, yet she couldn't aid him—it stung, felt like failure. Especially since this war was Levatein's burden.
"It's fine."
Seong Hyun-jin seemed to read her heart, speaking first.
"I want to help."
His kindness left her speechless. All she could do was avoid getting in his way, fulfill her role as he'd said.
Trusting him.
"...Please."
Clarice moved to her father, and Elcarus Levatein, grasping the situation, began reorganizing the soldiers tangled in chaotic melee with the enemy.
Even as they turned away, Agnar couldn't spare them a thought.
'Where'd this monster pop from?'
His eyes flicked, and instinct screamed: Seong Hyun-jin's sword would be upon him.
After a moment's thought, realization dawned.
"...Ah, I get it."
Agnar addressed Seong Hyun-jin.
"You're the 'variable' who took down Godin."
"Godin? Oh."
Seong Hyun-jin smirked.
"That weakling?"
"...Ha."
Agnar let out a dry laugh at the unflattering remark but acknowledged it.
"Yeah, to you, Sir Godin was just a weakling."
His smile vanished.
"Considering you blocked that strike unscathed."
Unlike before, Agnar wiped emotion from his face, gripping his sword with deadly seriousness.
"Knight Commander of the Iron Warriors, Agnar Balderte. State your name."
Agnar recognized Seong Hyun-jin as a worthy foe, honoring the swordsman's code.
Seong Hyun-jin dropped his smile in turn. His master had taught him: even against enemies, honor a swordsman's etiquette with your own.
"...Seong Hyun-jin."
He kept it brief, no need for longwinded titles or affiliations. One simple word defined him.
"Swordsman."