Chapter 139
Chapter 139
Honestly, sweeping them all away with a single area attack was far more convenient than dealing with each strike individually.
Unlike ordinary knights, Logan had secret techniques suitable for such situations.
Yet he deliberately chose to parry each of the cascading wind blades with his sword.
Partly because his transcendent senses allowed him to fully perceive the intangible blades flooding his surroundings—
'I need to conserve my strength.'
—and partly because Roger Bifros' madness foretold that this battle wouldn't be easily won.
But as Logan blocked Roger Bifros' storm of wind blades while simultaneously countering Aslan's relentless assaults, a strange inspiration struck him.
A more efficient way to defend against this chaotic onslaught.
Having experienced similar techniques firsthand multiple times, the idea came to him effortlessly.
'This might work.'
The vivid sensation of detonating over a hundred Liberatios at once.
The dazzling image of the Silver Force Blade deflecting comparable attacks head-on.
The inspiration tickling his mind soon materialized, unfolding within his grasp.
Whoosh—!
The golden Force Blade, which had previously only extended and retracted between 1 to 3 meters, suddenly compressed into a thin, whip-like form, stretching nearly 7 meters in length.
Then, bending freely at its master's will, it lashed out violently around him.
Swiish—!
"Got it!"
A bright smile spread across Logan's lips as he effortlessly dismantled Roger Bifros' magic by mimicking his enemy's technique.
This wasn't just about adding another variation to his Force Blade—it was proof that his skills had ascended to a new level.
He even felt like he was beginning to grasp the elusive Fourth Form of the Divine Sword Secret Art: Flame Severing.
But that smile—or rather, the whip-like Force Blade that had elicited it—also drove someone watching nearby into a blind rage.
"HOW DARE YOU?!"
Aslan's entire body erupted with a visible crimson haze, his eyes burning red.
Pushing beyond Overheat, he was now burning his very life force to amplify his power explosively.
Like lightning, he surged forward through the space where Roger Bifros' magic had vanished.
'Now's my chance!!'
His old friend's technique had just been resurrected in the hands of the man who killed him.
Rage aside, Aslan wasn't about to let this opportunity slip—hence his reckless gamble.
Yes, an opportunity.
That whip-like Force Blade his friend had created was highly practical and versatile, but it came with a fatal flaw: the cutting power of the Force Blade was fundamentally weakened.
Any point along the flexible Force Blade would snap effortlessly if struck with equal or greater force.
This flaw had made Flanz an overwhelmingly dominant force against weaker opponents but a crippled warrior against equals.
Flanz had struggled endlessly to overcome this weakness but ultimately failed. Even when he tried abandoning it to refine a new technique, he couldn't break free.
The unique Force Blade, born from a moment of transcendent inspiration, refused to change its nature.
And the same would hold true for that bastard now.
'Die cursing that genius of yours!'
The timing was perfect.
Instead of wind blades, the air around Logan suddenly solidified into chains, binding his movements tightly.
A brief opening created by his lord's magic.
Aslan unleashed a crimson lightning strike with his amplified power.
'No matter what trick you pull, I'll pierce through it in one blow!'
With that resolve, he threw his entire being into the attack.
And that became his fatal mistake.
As expected, Logan's golden Force Blade moved freely even while his body was restrained.
But unlike Flanz's version, it didn't snap under Aslan's crimson lightning—instead, it coiled smoothly around the attack, redirecting it just slightly off course.
'Huh?!'
The moment his life's strongest strike veered into empty air—
The golden Force Blade curved past his arm and sword, piercing precisely into the nape of his neck.
'A... snake?!'
A fluid, razor-sharp movement unlike anything his friend had ever demonstrated.
'How...?'
Even as his vision darkened, Aslan couldn't comprehend what had happened.
"Hup!"
Boom—!
With a light application of Wave-Cutting Slash, Logan shattered the binding spell Roger Bifros had wrapped around him.
Now free, Logan leaped over Aslan's collapsing corpse and charged straight at Roger Bifros.
Enemy knights fell one after another around him.
The MacLaine Knights, riding the momentum, stormed forward into the enemy ranks.
"BLOCK THEM!!"
Roger Bifros' scream was almost a shriek.
Knights hastily moved to shield him.
But inferior opponents crumbled helplessly under the golden whip that writhed and lashed unpredictably, clearing Logan's path effortlessly.
Against such weak foes, there was no need to waste energy on grand techniques like the Divine Sword Secret Art or the Iron Blood Sword's heavy strikes.
Calmly, Logan cut down each obstacle standing between him and the enemy commander.
Finally, when his long-standing nemesis stood barely a dozen meters away—
The once-composed blue eyes now flickered with madness.
"You... YOU ALONE WILL—!!"
A voice thick with eerie heat, followed by an overwhelming surge of power that began distorting the surroundings.
"M-My Lord!"
"Agh!"
"T-This can't be...!"
Twelve wind mages supplying Roger Bifros with mana suddenly withered, their mana turning from white to crimson as it poured into him.
The mingled red-and-white mana swirled violently within his staff before erupting as a tempest.
"DIE!!"
With a scream like vomiting blood, everything around Logan began to warp.
The very air itself became an extension of his enemy's will.
Breathing grew difficult as the surrounding atmosphere compressed his body, threatening to tear his limbs apart with opposing pressures.
Beyond that, transparent winds morphed into thousands of invisible fangs, raining down on him.
A single hit would punch holes straight through his body—but what shocked Logan more was the other sensation lurking beneath.
'This isn't... mana.'
A similar yet fundamentally different force—far denser and more alien.
Having recently experienced something akin to it, Logan recognized it instantly.
Magic Force (MF).
The exclusive power of 6th-Circle Archmages.
Roger Bifros had somehow bypassed his limits, even if through dubious means.
Now, Logan had no choice but to play his own hidden card.
'Lux!'
A warm glow emanated from his beloved sword, swiftly enveloping his entire body.
A masterpiece weapon, the kind a master-class dwarf might craft only once or twice in a lifetime—imbued with a soul of its own.
Legend had it that when such a weapon fully resonated with its owner's soul, it awakened a unique magic-like ability tailored perfectly to its wielder.
A Natural Artifact's power—unclassifiable, unpredictable.
Lux had awakened its trait during Logan's battle against Juan Douglas, blocking his magic.
And coincidentally, it was similar to a power Logan had experienced once before.
'Time Acceleration.'
A sensation akin to—yet distinct from—when he had wielded Aslan's Velocitas wrapped around his soul.
Unlike before, where only his consciousness accelerated, leaving him disoriented, this felt natural, as if it had always been part of him.
His body, not just his mind, accelerated seamlessly.
He still didn't understand why this was the ability Lux had granted him, but there was no time to dwell on it.
'Hah!'
Golden waves of Force erupted from his body, tearing through the wind's oppressive grip.
The Wave-Cutting Slash—sixteen layers of golden force forming a temporary barrier—was formidable, but it alone couldn't stop the thousands of wind fangs descending upon him: Exterminating Storm.
Yet breaking free for even a moment was enough for Logan.
'Ghost's Shadow.'
Combining Time Acceleration with the Boots of the Wind God, Logan executed the Sword Duke's secret technique—shortening space itself as he escaped the spell's range in an instant.
Boom—!
A golden Force Blade, now evolved beyond Flanz's original into a Snake Blade, slashed through dozens of wind fangs in a sweeping arc.
And there—right before him—was Roger Bifros' face.
Whether from the spell's backlash or sheer insanity, the once-composed noble was unrecognizable.
His blue eyes rolled back, showing only whites, while bulging veins grotesquely marred his twisted expression.
'So this is how our long-standing feud ends.'
A strange emptiness settled in Logan's chest at the sight.
'Let's finish this.'
A golden light, brighter than ever, shot toward Roger Bifros' forehead—
But.
Crack—!
'A barrier?!'
A transparent shield shattered, sending Roger Bifros stumbling back.
And worse—
"Lo...gan MacLaine!"
His blue eyes flickered back to life, sending a chill down Logan's spine—but he didn't stop.
The golden Snake Blade curved around the reforming barrier and bit into the pale-faced mage's throat.
Slash—!
Blood sprayed as the barrier flickered out.
Roger Bifros' fading gaze brought Logan some relief—but it wasn't over.
"LET'S DIE TOGETHER!!"
Hummm—!
Mana rapidly gathered in Roger Bifros' staff, binding Logan once more.
But—
"Die alone, Count."
A cold retort, followed by the golden blade severing the hand holding the staff.
"AAARGH!!"
The moment the staff fell, the madness in Roger Bifros' face twisted into rapid decay.
His golden hair turned bone-white in an instant; bulging veins darkened into fungal growths, aging him a hundred years in seconds.
"T-This can't... be..."
A half-corpse, barely clinging to life.
Even the blood gushing from his severed arm was blackened, lifeless.
Left alone, he'd die soon—yet Logan felt an odd hollowness at the end of their long feud.
"Any last words?"
Though scattered resistance remained, the battle was already decided.
Victory belonged to MacLaine.
"Kkh... khaha! Y-You...! If not for you...!"
"That's all?"
Even as Logan's sword gleamed gold, Roger Bifros tried to spew curses—
Then his dimming eyes flickered toward Logan's rear.
With his remaining hand, he pointed behind Logan and burst into hysterical laughter.
"Kkh... kkhaha! Don't think... this is over! You... your family... will follow right after me! HAHAHA!"
Logan whirled around—and his face twisted in fury.
An eagle emblem, wrapped in a whirlwind, soaring into the sky.
Five hundred knights charging forward, led by a single figure.
A curse tore from Logan's lips.
"Goddammit!"
"Kkh... You're all... finished—"
"Shut up!"
Slash—!
Logan severed Roger Bifros' head in one motion, then roared to his troops:
"Wicken Calria! The Stormblade's forces are here! Secure the battlefield NOW!"
Just as MacLaine thought they'd overcome one crisis—the real threat had arrived.