Chapter 156
Chapter 156
"Damn it...!"
The platinum-haired young man—Rohiter von Grandia, the First Prince—watched as the knight beside him moved first.
Though the knight had a youthful face, the radiant crimson Force Blade he wielded marked him as one of the Second Prince's hidden trump cards.
But in this situation, he wasn't strong enough to be a game-changer.
"Crush them!"
At Logan's cold command, the knights nearby hurled fist-sized red stones into the fractured space in the air like a hailstorm.
BOOOOM!
Dozens of magic bombs—barely used during the breakthrough—detonated simultaneously with an earth-shattering roar.
Though unintended, the collapsing barrier absorbed most of the shockwaves that should have scattered outward, amplifying the explosion's force as the blast ricocheted within the confined space.
When the transparent barrier finally dissipated, revealing the ruined tent in full view, Logan locked eyes with the First Prince—still alive, though barely, with only minor burns.
The knights and mages must have shielded him with their lives, but in this situation, their sacrifice was meaningless.
"You're tougher than I expected."
"Y-You dare...! You bastard, disappear already!"
Logan briefly considered mocking the prince's absurd reaction, but enemy forces were already shifting to encircle them.
Swish.
Without wasting another second, Logan swung his blade—decapitating the First Prince in a single stroke.
The prince's head rolled lifelessly across the ground.
Logan skewered it on the tip of his sword and raised it high.
"I have slain Rohiter von Grandia!"
No further words were needed.
The First Prince's faction, now leaderless, would descend into panic at that declaration alone.
But then—
"KILL HIM! Bring me Logan MacLaine's head! On the honor of House Douglas, I offer a bounty of ONE HUNDRED MILLION GOLD!"
A furious voice, amplified by magic, echoed across the battlefield, plunging the entire warzone into stunned silence for a brief moment.
An astronomical bounty—one that defied reason.
"What a stupid proclamation."
Logan scoffed, clicking his tongue.
Anyone with half a brain could see the flaws in that offer.
Would House Douglas even survive this war after losing the very figurehead that started the civil war?
Even if they did, would they have the resources to pay such an exorbitant sum?
And even in the best-case scenario—would the Duke truly be willing to part with that fortune?
No matter how you looked at it, Juan Douglas' outburst was nothing more than a desperate, rage-fueled tantrum.
But in this madness of war, only a select few could afford to think rationally.
"WAAAAAAH!"
"ATTACK!"
"THE REDHEAD! IT'S THE REDHEAD!"
To the First Prince's forces, Logan wasn't just an enemy—he was a treasure trove that could change their lives.
To the uneducated masses, a Duke's word was as unshakable as the royal family's—a symbol of eternal power.
Logan exhaled in exasperation as soldiers charged at him with frenzied eyes.
'Things are going too smoothly.'
Lately, he'd been realizing—much to his chagrin—that he wasn't as clever as he thought.
The only saving grace was the sight of Aegis Fortress' rapid-fire crossbow militia and regular troops pouring out through the gates.
Thanks to the Esperanza Knights and their efforts, the elite forces of both factions had withdrawn, allowing Logan's forces to regroup.
And so, Logan made his decision.
No matter how things twisted—
"We strike the Second Prince's forces NOW! Signal the troops—concentrate all forces on the Second Prince's army!"
If they eliminated the Second Prince, this war would end.
"My Lord, but the First Prince's forces surrounding us—"
"We'll break through on our own! Crossbow cavalry, tighten formation and guard our flanks! Shoot down anyone who approaches! Knights—follow me and carve a path!"
"YES, SIR!"
It was a reckless decision.
One that could lead to heavy casualties.
But if they succeeded—it would end everything.
So—
"Logan, Jordan will be at the Second Prince's side. He hasn't moved yet."
"I'll find a way."
'I'll risk anything.'
Logan wondered if he, too, had been infected by the battlefield's madness—but he charged forward without hesitation.
However, the situation differed from their earlier advance toward the First Prince's stronghold.
SHIIING!
"AAARGH!"
"MONSTER!"
"DIE!"
Logan's golden greatsword cleaved through the earth, instantly reducing dozens to corpses.
An overwhelming display of power.
Yet the soldiers behind them charged forward without fear.
From the front—countless troops from minor noble houses pushed forward relentlessly.
From the rear—the Walterheim Knights, beheading any stragglers.
The largest knight order in the kingdom, boasting overwhelming numbers.
More than half of them—who had been clashing with the Esperanza Knights—had reversed course from Aegis Fortress to block Logan's path.
And they employed the most despicable tactics.
Even Logan, who had been cutting through the enemy with sheer force, began to slow.
The MacLaine knights following him struggled as well.
Finally, Logan resorted to his last measure.
"Permission granted—USE LIBERATIO! Clear a path at all costs!"
The final reserve—magic bombs that each knight carried no more than five or six of—was unleashed.
"GRAAH!"
As knight Rozelio beheaded an enemy, he felt a blade pierce his chest.
'Too many... Damn it.'
Thankfully, his heart wasn't hit—but the wound was severe enough to take him out of the fight.
And worse—
The magic bombs stored beneath his silver armor, emblazoned with the flame crest, had begun to heat up from the impact.
While others carried only three or four, Rozelio had packed over ten.
If they detonated now—
'My comrades will die too.'
—You greedy bastard, even this?!
—If your armor gets too heavy, you'll die before you even use them.
—And if you take a direct hit to the chest? That'll trigger a chain reaction. Ugh, Roz. If it comes to that, grab an enemy and blow yourself up. Don't drag us down with you.
The jeers of his longtime comrades flashed through his mind.
'Damn it... Rio, you bastard. I told you to watch your mouth. Look what happened.'
"ROZ!"
The nickname he always hated—Rose—sounded especially grating now.
The pity in that voice stung even more.
But it gave him the strength to act.
Forcing strength into his failing body, Rozelio roared at his friend.
"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"
If he pulled the sword from his chest, he'd collapse instantly.
So instead, he grabbed the headless corpse of his enemy and charged straight into the enemy lines.
"Take care of my son, Rio!!"
His final shout was drowned in blood—he wasn't even sure if the words came out.
But it didn't matter. Even if Rio didn't hear him, he'd look after his son.
That was their promise before going to war.
His family would take care of things too—but as a MacLaine knight for barely a year, Rozelio trusted his friend more than his house.
He hadn't joined this suicidal war out of loyalty to his family—but because he couldn't abandon his comrades.
'Take care of him, Rio.'
Even as his vision darkened, his son's face remained vivid in his mind.
'I'm sorry, Russell.'
An apology to the son he left behind—
And then—
BOOOOM!
A cataclysmic explosion engulfed everything within dozens of meters.
"AAAAH! YOU BASTARDS!!"
Rozelio's death—beloved among the knights—marked the beginning.
Several MacLaine knights, realizing their end was near, chose to embrace their enemies and detonate their remaining bombs.
The enemy's frenzied charge faltered.
And as Logan's forces hurled bomb after bomb to clear the way, their advance regained momentum.
Then—Patrick surged forward.
"Logan, fall back for a moment. I'll clear a path!"
"Father?"
"I see Jordan's gray-haired head over there. You're the only one who can take it—HRAAAH!"
SHIIING!
A crimson Force Blade—extending one and a half times its usual length—bisected the enemies before him.
"Save your strength! I'll get you to him no matter what!"
Sweat dripped from his brow. His body trembled with exhaustion. His hands shook.
Patrick looked like he was on the verge of collapse.
And yet—enemies surrounded them on all sides.
And he wanted Logan—their strongest fighter—to hold back?
By all logic, it was an impossible demand.
But—
"Trust us, my Lord!"
"We may not be as strong as the Captain, but—"
"We can do this much!"
Framber. Hector. Jaydee.
MacLaine's veteran mid-tier knights—practically disciples of Heinkel and Patrick—stepped forward.
"We'll open the way for you!"
Though only mid-tier knights, in this moment, their presence rivaled Patrick's own.
"HAAAAH!"
With a thunderous battle cry, their crimson Force Blades slashed forward with all their might.
"YAAAH!"
"We're here too!"
The middle-aged knights threw themselves into the fray, plugging every gap in their advance.
Their bodies accumulated wounds at an alarming rate—but the knight order's momentum never slowed.
Of course, determination alone couldn't rewrite reality.
By the time Jordan's face finally came into view—
The Second Prince's forces, realizing the Liberatio reserves were dwindling, reformed their ranks.
Meanwhile, the First Prince's troops broke through the hail of quarrels from the rear.
They were completely surrounded—trapped in the heart of enemy territory.
As Logan gritted his teeth and prepared to charge—Patrick saw it.
A smirk.
Whether Jordan was truly mocking them or it was just his imagination didn't matter.
'I'll wipe that smirk off your face!'
Rage surged through Patrick's veins as he twisted his blade backward.
"LOGAN!!"
"Huh?!"
Before his bewildered son's eyes—
Patrick raised his Force Blade—now flattened and widened like a platform.
A transformation impossible for ordinary high-tier knights—achieved only in this moment of fury and inspiration.
"GO!"
The hyper-elastic Force Blade launched Logan's armored body dozens of meters into the air—straight toward Jordan.
"ENEMY IN THE AIR!"
"HE'S HEADING FOR HIS LORDSHIP!"
"STOP HIM!"
Jordan watched his panicking subordinates with a stiff, mocking smile.
The Sword Duke was gradually being pushed back by the combined might of the three Transcendents.
MacLaine's elites were completely encircled.
The Esperanza Knights at the rear would take time to break through—but they could be dealt with after Logan was finished.
'We can replenish our losses with the First Prince's forces.'
With their leader gone, the First Prince's nobles would have no choice but to rally under him.
After all, they couldn't possibly side with Logan and the Sword Duke—the ones who killed their prince.
In a way, that brat who killed the First Prince had done him a favor.
So—
"I'll handle him myself! Clean up the rest!"
He might as well give Logan a proper send-off.
"I won't give you even a sliver of a chance to escape, Logan MacLaine. I'll kill you myself."
Jordan Waltermein—the second strongest Transcendent in the kingdom—greeted Logan with a bloodthirsty grin.