Chapter 157
Chapter 157
'No matter what it takes, I must kill him.'
This was no longer about holding out.
Victory.
I had to kill the transcendent before me.
And not just any transcendent—the second strongest aura user in the kingdom.
In the brief moment he hovered midair, Logan ran countless scenarios through his mind. Having heard and imagined countless duels, estimating the odds came easily—though nearly all of them ended unfavorably.
Still, he clung to the few slivers of hope as he landed with a hardened expression.
Just over ten meters from Duke Jordan.
'At least he's not mobilizing his subordinates.'
Relieved that the worst-case scenario had been avoided, Logan quickly glanced to confirm the position of his other critical 'target.'
And then—
"You've done something truly absurd. That preposterous—"
Clang!
The moment Duke Jordan opened his mouth with that leisurely expression, Logan lunged forward.
Flash.
Swish.
His golden force blade twisted like a living serpent, aiming for Jordan's neck—only for the transcendent's eyes to narrow slightly.
-Jordan? That bastard? Hmm, you already know this, but he's a transcendent who specialized in fire attributes. His swordsmanship isn't bad either, and it seems he's enhanced his body through some method, making it nearly as tough as those who focus solely on physicality. Naturally, he has no obvious weaknesses.
His master's description of Jordan Walterheim had been despairing.
-And yet, you wonder how I'm still stronger than him? Simple. I'm much faster.
The foundation of martial arts lay in controlling space.
And space was dominated not by strength, but by speed.
-I can hit him freely, while he can't touch me.
No matter the gap in skill, if you could strike without being struck, you could win.
And right now, Logan—
'I fought evenly against Wycken Calria, the Stormblade.'
That was the sole reason Logan dared to hope for victory.
But—
"Hmph. Cheap tricks."
With a low scoff, Jordan's crimson aura-clad greatsword smashed into the middle of Logan's Snake Blade before it could fully exert its force.
Boom!
"Ugh!"
Skreee—
Logan had thought he'd grown stronger after days of clashing with the Stormblade, yet he was effortlessly repelled in a single strike.
More despairing than the sheer power behind the blade was its speed—far faster than he'd anticipated.
This was on an entirely different level from when he'd barely managed to hold his own against Clayton's magic while injured.
A single movement was enough to confirm that Jordan's agility matched, if not surpassed, his own.
But Logan didn't despair.
'First plan scrapped. Moving to the second.'
As the searing crimson aura closed in, Logan twisted his body sideways and thrust his sword toward Jordan's flank.
If they clashed head-on, Logan would be severely wounded—but so would his opponent.
His golden force blade scraped against the aura, maintaining its presence as it aimed for the enemy's vitals.
Jordan's brows twitched again, and his greatsword shifted first.
Whoosh!
"How shamelessly calm you are, acting like a madman despite being nobility."
"I'll take that as a compliment!"
Logan spat nonsense as he bounced back and closed the distance again.
In that instant, Jordan erupted in flames, his aura blazing brighter as he surged forward even faster.
The gap between them vanished in an instant as they clashed.
Ignoring the greatsword sweeping diagonally upward to bisect him, Logan unleashed a golden beam of light.
This wasn't an exchange of mutual wounds—it was a suicidal strike, a declaration that they'd die together.
Jordan's face visibly stiffened, hesitating for a fraction of a second before his body slid like water, positioning itself behind Logan.
Yet—
Swish.
The elegant footwork that should have secured his rear attack failed to catch Logan, who vanished like a ghost.
Instead, Logan, now crouched low, fired another golden beam straight toward Jordan's groin.
"How dare you—?!"
BOOM!
The explosive counterattack sent Logan skidding back again.
"You have no dignity as a noble—!"
"Damn right I don't, you fossil!"
Logan taunted, hoping to rattle Jordan's composure even slightly as he closed the distance once more.
What welcomed him was a crimson aura engulfing his entire field of vision.
Jordan's greatsword unleashed an aura so vast it could envelop Logan's entire body.
Logan's counter was the sword of a golden giant, thick as a pillar.
CRASH!!
A wide-range strike versus a concentrated, single-line attack.
Regrettably for Logan, the outcome was clear.
Both staggered back—but while Jordan retreated only a few steps, Logan was sent flying dozens of meters.
'Tch!'
Gritting his teeth, Logan steadied his breathing, forcing down the nausea churning in his gut.
Strangely, Jordan, who had taken less damage, looked even more furious.
"Hmph. You're really holding out against my aura. Fine. I'll take you seriously now. No more games—fight me properly if you don't want to die."
Logan smirked slightly.
His pride must've taken a hit. Good—if he got too serious too soon, this would be over.
"As you command...!"
The moment he spoke, Logan shot forward like lightning.
Channeling every ounce of his force, he laid bare everything he had against this supreme opponent.
"Guh—!!"
Perhaps due to the earlier clash shaking him up—
Far more 'sincerity' than Logan intended poured out, laced with force, and flooded toward Jordan.
And it elicited a reaction far more intense than expected.
"You filthy rat—!!"
The loudest voice Logan had ever heard from him.
Hiding behind that 'sincerity,' Logan fired another golden beam toward Jordan's lower vitals while he was still reeling.
Slash.
BOOOOM!
'Got him!'
Even as he was blasted back, Logan grinned in satisfaction at the sensation in his hand.
But—
"I'll tear you apart, you maggot!"
Jordan's signature technique, The Lord of Fire, activated, engulfing him in a massive fireball as he charged forward. The only wound Logan had managed to inflict was a deep gash on the inside of his thigh.
'Damn it, so close!'
Though his second plan had worked perfectly, he'd missed the chance to finish Jordan in one blow.
Frustrating—but there was no time to dwell on regrets.
-The Lord of Fire? Jordan gave it a fancy name, but the principle is simple. He wraps himself in flames and burns anything that gets close. Since it's aura, it's hotter than most magic.
-But that's secondary. The real purpose is to crush anyone who dares approach within his range. In that space, his aura controls even the air.
-How do you break it? Well... Ah, at your level? It's impossible... But if you absolutely had to—
'Long-range sniping from outside his range. That's the only way.'
Logan's blade glowed as golden energy condensed at its tip.
'A normal attack won't work.'
He'd already surpassed the limits of Iron-Cleaving Strike, which fired a single beam.
Once, he'd reversed the principle—spreading energy wide like a net and detonating Liberatio midair.
If he applied that experience in reverse, layering energy into a single concentrated strike—
Flash!
CRACK!!
A deafening metallic clang reverberated through the air as if a massive piece of metal had been struck.
Simultaneously, Jordan, who had been charging forward, stumbled back several steps.
The fireball-like aura flickered and dispersed.
"Y-You dare... my Flamma—!"
Jordan's face twisted like a demon's as he raised his greatsword—now with a hairline crack running down its center.
Logan could clearly see mana leaking from the blade, but he wasn't pleased.
'Damn it!'
His trump card had failed again.
He'd gambled everything on the assumption that Jordan, engulfed in flames, wouldn't dodge—yet all he'd done was disrupt the sword's mana.
'Then the only option left is—'
Logan's mind raced as he felt the hollowness of his depleted force reserves.
But before he could think further, Jordan's blazing greatsword was already upon him.
Slash.
"You little rat—!!"
Logan barely ducked, strands of his hair sheared off.
Thud.
"...Ngh!"
He rolled aside just as the ground where he'd stood was gouged deep.
A primal terror gripped him—the feeling of being an insignificant creature before an overwhelming force.
"Squeak-squeak!"
"...Ha. You damn brat!"
Good—the taunt worked!
WHOOSH!
Logan cheered internally as he leaped back—just as the air where he'd stood exploded.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
As if to prove their earlier exchanges had been mere play, Jordan's assault rained down like a storm.
Logan poured everything into evasion, yet still suffered several shallow cuts.
'Wait, why was I trying to provoke him again?'
The sheer terror of the moment made him forget his original plan.
Only after what felt like an eternity did his stone-tense mind recall the final strategy.
He remembered his 'other target.'
'Thankfully, he hasn't gone far. Thanks for staying put, idiot.'
The moment Jordan's blade came for him again—
'Please!'
Even as death loomed, Logan ignored Jordan entirely and fired a beam of light toward his true target—the Second Prince, Romain von Grandia, who had been foolishly spectating the fight.
Fortunately—
BOOM!
Even in his furious state, Duke Jordan twisted mid-strike to block the attack aimed at the prince.
But no aura user, no matter how skilled, could avoid losing balance during such a sudden redirection.
Seizing the moment, Logan's blade birthed a golden serpent that sank its fangs into Jordan's arm.
Slash.
"Guh! Y-You...!"
"Damn... missed."
The genuine regret slipped out.
The deep gash on Jordan's sword arm would weaken him but wasn't fatal.
"You—!"
But that slip of honesty quickly cooled Jordan's rage-reddened face.
'Shit!'
Realizing his mistake, Logan moved like a ghost—darting unpredictably in all directions while firing golden beams.
His master would've applauded the flawless execution of his teachings.
Every attack was aimed solely at the Second Prince.
But Jordan, now fully composed, blocked them all with calm precision.
Worse, the repeated use of Divine Sword Secret Arts strained Logan's force core. He had no choice but to abandon this tactic.
With a resigned expression, he charged straight at Duke Jordan.
Jordan, superior by more than a full level, couldn't possibly miss Logan's deteriorating condition.
"You fought well. My compliments to the Sword Duke who raised you."
Jordan's crimson greatsword carved a brilliant arc through the air.
And then—
Crack.
The fractured blade split cleanly, its upper half spinning through the air as a fountain of blood erupted.