Chapter 155
Chapter 155
Long before the civil war erupted, rumors about the transcendent warriors of the Grandia Kingdom had been rampant.
No—perhaps because transcendent warriors rarely took to the frontlines or battlefields themselves, the rumors grew even wilder.
And among all those rumors, one question always piqued people's curiosity the most:
—So, who's the strongest among them?
Though it was said that even among Aura Users, there were differences in mastery, no one had ever dared ask a transcendent directly about their level.
Among the kingdom's transcendent warriors were also archmages, so even if one knew their rank, direct comparisons were difficult.
Because of this, debates raged for over a decade, but at some point, a consensus was reached—largely because, unlike previous rumors that had drawn vehement objections from the warriors themselves, this time, the transcendent warriors tacitly acknowledged it.
According to that consensus:
The half-giant Luther Kyle and the Stormblade Wicken Calria were considered roughly equal in strength.
Above them, the Flameblade Jordan Walterheim and the Freezing Wizard Juan Douglas were deemed too close to call.
And at the very pinnacle stood the Sword Duke, Felix Esperanza.
Now, those on the battlefield had no choice but to witness the truth of those rumors firsthand.
"Grip of Frozen Disaster!"
Juan Douglas, his face flushed red from channeling immense magical power, unleashed an instantaneous binding spell—one that was impossible to evade—locking down Felix's movements.
"Haaah!"
Wicken Calria, his body wreathed in white wind, unleashed a barrage of lightning-fast slashes, moving so fast they were invisible to the naked eye.
"Ugh!"
And then, the half-giant, cornering the Sword Duke, swung his massive warhammer with all his might.
BOOOOM!
The ground exploded outward in a ten-meter radius from the point of impact.
Amid the dust and debris, a streak of crimson light flashed.
And then—
"Kgh!"
"Damn it!"
"Are you even using magic properly?!"
Not only Wicken and Luther, who had been fighting up close, but even Juan Douglas—standing over twenty meters away—bore long, deep wounds.
It was impossible to believe that a single sword stroke could inflict such injuries.
Luther Kyle clicked his tongue in frustration.
"If it weren't for that, do you think you could even stand against him? Stay focused!"
Despite the deep gash on his hand gripping his staff, Juan Douglas radiated a murderous aura.
They weren't at a disadvantage.
Juan's earlier boasts hadn't been empty—the Sword Duke, too, was visibly exhausted, his face pale.
His presence had weakened significantly compared to the start of the battle.
Proof that he was nearing his limit.
But—
The expressions of the three transcendent warriors were filled with nothing but tension.
They had never imagined that the Sword Duke could hold his own against their combined assault.
And because of that, unwanted changes were occurring all across the battlefield.
Especially for Juan and Wicken, who kept anxiously glancing back toward their main camp.
"If three of you aren't enough, why not call Jordan too?"
Despite his obvious fatigue, the Sword Duke's voice carried a mocking ease.
He, too, had noticed the shifting tides of battle.
His meaningful gaze turned toward the distant south.
"Follow me!"
"Break through!"
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD.
After consecutive fierce battles, only about 150 knights remained.
And 1,300 crossbow cavalry.
With such meager numbers, charging into the enemy's main camp—still boasting nearly 30,000 troops—seemed like sheer suicide at first glance.
Even if the enemy lacked transcendent commanders, the MacLaine forces' advantage—their crossbow cavalry—couldn't be fully utilized in a head-on breakthrough formation.
But what should have been a suicidal charge began to work far too smoothly—thanks to a few key factors.
The first was Logan, leading the charge at the very front.
"Tah!"
With a mere extension of his sword, the horses of the charging knights stumbled, disrupting their formation.
Those strong enough to keep their mounts steady under such sudden pressure were swiftly beheaded by the golden Force Blade tracing elegant arcs.
And if there were multiple such strong opponents?
A golden giant's sword split the battlefield in half, annihilating the enemy knights in its path.
A monstrous presence far surpassing even the greatest High Knights.
After Balton Oil—Trumbell County's sole High Knight—was bisected in less than three exchanges, no one dared stand in Logan's way.
Wherever Logan's sword swept through—
First came Quorel's hail of arrows, raining down on the fallen and disoriented knights.
Those who survived that were met with MacLaine knights' blades or trampling hooves.
The second factor was the MacLaine knights following Logan.
"Die!"
"Drop dead!"
SLASH!
CLANG!
One knight's armor split at the ribs from a crossed slash, while another lost his life.
"Ghk... ghk... Crazy...!"
Ignoring enemy attacks, they struck with single-minded lethality.
Every MacLaine knight fought as if demanding their foes trade bones for lives.
Their relentless, sword-focused style synergized perfectly with the Iron Blood Sword Technique, producing results far beyond their individual skill.
And the third factor—
"What the—?!"
"Golems! Destroy them—! Aaagh!!"
"AAAH!"
Thirty golems, each wielding massive two-handed maces—unfamiliar to both friend and foe alike.
Three-meter-tall constructs, each possessing knight-level combat prowess, had suddenly appeared right behind Logan, ahead of the MacLaine knights, unleashing devastating force.
Ignoring enemy knights' attacks—their mace-like fists tearing into the golems' bodies—they swung back with crushing force.
Like offering their hearts to target limbs instead.
A crude, almost shameful combat style—
But when the combatants were heartless monsters with terrifying strength, that flaw hardly mattered.
BOOOOM!
Some veteran enemy knights tried countermeasures—
"Damn it! No core! Break their legs!"
"Agh! Dammit! Find the mage! They must be nearby!"
But they could never have guessed that the master of these regenerating monsters was far away, inside the castle.
'This magic is absurd...'
The golems, a godsend in this desperate situation.
Logan recognized Clayton's mana signature at a glance.
But even with his mana-sight, he couldn't fathom how such a feat was possible.
He could only assume something fortunate had happened to Clayton.
'Sixth-Circle—he's reached Archmage level. But what attribute did he gain to make this possible?'
Though the destructive power of an Archmage's signature spell should have been greater, the sheer range and persistence of this magic more than compensated.
Either way, Logan's task had become much easier.
"Pick up the pace!!"
Logan's voice boomed as he channeled more Force into his mount.
The Force, perfectly attuned to his will, strengthened the exhausted horse's lungs and muscles, pushing it beyond its limits.
The fact that stray spears only left shallow scratches on his toughened skin was just a bonus.
Unbeknownst to him, Logan had reached the pinnacle of Force Horsemanship, achieving this miraculous feat.
His horse, eyes blazing like fire, charged forward with renewed vigor.
Streaking through the enemy lines like a bolt of light, Logan allowed himself a smile.
The enemy camp split apart far more easily than he had expected—so much so that his earlier worries about exhausting Liberatio or losing knights now seemed laughable.
'Th-that...?'
Juan Douglas, concentrating mana to bind the Sword Duke, felt his gaze waver.
The MacLaine knights were carving through his main camp like kindling.
This unforeseen development left him conflicted—
SLASH!
"Kgh!"
But the Aura Blade grazing past his side snapped him back to focus.
Aura Shot—proof that the Sword Duke had reached the upper echelons of Aura mastery, and the reason they were struggling so unexpectedly.
"Focus!"
Even his insolent son-in-law's blunt warning couldn't be ignored in this crisis.
At the naming ceremony, he had sensed Logan's strength—but it shouldn't have been this overwhelming.
'The old man... He's been hiding his true power all along.'
One misstep, and his head would roll.
This was no time to worry about the main camp.
Besides, he was confident the worst wouldn't happen.
'Even if that brat is strong, without being transcendent, he can't break my barrier. No—he shouldn't even be able to see it. At least not for a day.'
If the prince was safe, then the knights who had forced their way into the camp would soon be surrounded and annihilated.
Juan reassured himself, deliberately ignoring the creeping unease.
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD.
After plowing through the frontlines, the path ahead suddenly cleared.
Proof that the First Prince's forces had completely shifted tactics.
Logan knew they were attempting to encircle and break his spearhead charge—but sensing an opportunity, he accelerated instead.
'I need to find the prince.'
He would be deep within the camp, under the heaviest guard.
Spotting the phoenix banner of the Grandia royal family and the crossed swords emblem of House Douglas, Logan charged straight toward them.
But now that the path was clear, the prince and his elite guards—who should have been at the very center—were nowhere to be seen. No—he couldn't even sense them.
'Even if Juan left, the prince should still be guarded by elite troops...?'
His heightened senses detected no concentration of strong presences—only enemy troops maneuvering to encircle them.
Frowning, Logan pushed his focus to the limit—and his transcendent senses caught something strange.
Immediately, he lunged forward, slashing violently at the space where he felt an alien energy.
BOOOOM!
To the naked eye, it was just empty air.
But Logan's sword rebounded with a deafening clang.
"Here! Smash it open!"
This had to be Juan Douglas's handiwork—some kind of magical trick.
But with Juan absent, breaking this barrier was only a matter of time.
...Or so he thought.
Until repeated attacks from his knights failed to make even a dent in the strange energy his senses had locked onto.
CRASH!
BOOM!
BAM-BAM-BAM!
"...Fall back!"
After ordering the knights back, Logan leapt into the air, golden giant sword forming overhead.
He unleashed his full physical destructive power onto the invisible barrier.
BOOOOOM!
HMMMMMMMM.
But the alien energy only trembled slightly—remaining otherwise unfazed.
"This is..."
Logan's face twisted in frustration—
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Suddenly, one of the golems approached and swiftly wrote on the ground:
[This is a Mana Barrier, reinforced by an Archmage's full power. Unless attacked with Aura or magic, it won't budge. Even I can't break it from this distance.]
"That's ridiculous—!"
The message was even more shocking than Clayton's newfound abilities.
[Since the caster isn't present, there must be a time limit—but given his deliberate absence, it won't be short. Retreat.]
"Absolutely not!"
Ignoring the golem's plea to retreat, Logan stepped forward again.
He couldn't waste this opportunity—one that had required so many factors to align perfectly.
And he still had one last card to play.
Ignoring the golem's continued writing, Logan raised his sword, focusing his mind.
'It's still unrefined, but...'
Even though he hadn't reached transcendent level, there was a power that had allowed him to momentarily cut through Jordan's flame aura despite his weakened state.
'I can do this!'
Divine Sword Secret Art: Fourth Form—Blazing Severance.
Unlike previous secret techniques, this one embodied the concept of severing the very source of formless energy.
As golden light erupted from Lux like flames, it blurred momentarily—
SCREEEECH!
The empty air split apart with a deafening noise, revealing what lay within.
"There...!"
Inside the rift, Logan saw dozens of panicked knights and mages—and a platinum-haired man with blue eyes.
His lips curled into a vicious smile.