Chapter 544: Omen (13)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 544: Omen (13)
“Patriarch!”
“Lord Patriarch…!”
As one, every knight of Hairan knelt on a single knee.
Even with a powerful, insurmountable enemy looming before them, they turned their backs to the foe and bowed their heads to Ron.
In the midst of war, such an act was strictly forbidden. Yet, the knights could not stop themselves from expressing their faith and reverence for the man who had appeared in this moment of utter despair.
As long as he was there, not even Kelliark Zipple would dare to strike the Sword Emperor Castle at will. The knights barely managed to suppress the surge of raw emotion cresting within them.
Step, step…
As Ron moved forward, the knights rose to their feet and resumed their stances. Though he exerted no conscious aura, his footsteps echoed in the ears of friend and foe alike, as clear as the beating of their own hearts.
Jin offered a silent bow of respect to the man now standing beside him. Ron placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I have fallen into your debt once again, Paul Gray Mick.”
Jin smiled at Ron’s use of his alias. Somehow, he felt he had grown much closer to this peerless giant known as Ron Hairan.
“I trust you will repay it whenever you can.”
Ron chuckled, understanding the unspoken meaning in Jin’s words: Don't die. Stay alive and pay me back.
“Luyan, Head of the Hairan Sword Saints.”
Ron then called for Luyan.
“Yes, Patriarch!”
“Answer me. As the Acting Commander of the Sword Emperor Castle, did you intend to accept Kelliark’s conditions?”
“Never, my lord,” Luyan answered without a moment’s hesitation.
She truly had no intention of accepting Kelliark’s terms. To do so would be to betray the Barmul Alliance that had fought for Hairan, and it would be an act that would forever stain the Hairan name.
The brief moment of turmoil that had swept the Sword Emperor Castle at Kelliark’s offer was only because Zipple claimed to have a way to restore their young master.
Ron nodded in satisfaction. “You did well. And you held out magnificently.”
A lump formed in Luyan’s throat at Ron’s sincere praise. She felt she had done nothing to deserve it.
Until Ron had risen, she had been powerless against Kelliark Zipple. In the first battle, she had been unable to stop the young master from being beaten into such a wretched state. If not for Jin, Hairan would have met its end long ago. She felt she had merely been a placeholder…
It wasn't just Luyan; every knight of Hairan felt the same. They believed that if only they had been more competent, the Sword Emperor Castle would not have been brought to such a pathetic state.
“Knights of Hairan, that burden is mine to bear as well. So, cease your self-reproach and accept the command of your Sword Emperor—a sinner who has arrived too late.”
“…We await your every command.”
“Dragon Knight Leader, Kalmain Aita.”
“Speak, Patriarch,” Kalmain replied, gripping his sword with his left arm. He instinctively knew what order Ron was about to give.
“The Dragon Knights are to immediately lead an evacuation. Take every Hairan knight, excluding the Sword Saints, and all the allied knights who gathered here for our sake, and leave the Sword Emperor Castle.”
Kalmain did not protest the order.
In the battle about to unfold, it was clear that he and any knight below the rank of Sword Saint would be of no help.
But even if the knights of Hairan were not needed for this fight… they were the ones who absolutely had to survive for the reconstruction that would follow.
When Ron was unconscious, they had refused to leave the castle—even if it meant a dog’s death—because they saw no future.
But now, they could think of the future. They had to prepare for it. They needed people to welcome the Patriarch and the young master upon their return.
“Dragon Knight Leader Kalmain Aita, I shall obey your command.”
Suppressing the desperate desire to stay and die fighting alongside his lord, Kalmain offered Ron a sword salute.
“Ron Hairan…” Kelliark finally spoke, his eyes narrowing. “I did not expect you to wake. I thought you had already departed for hell.”
“I just came back from there,” Ron retorted. “I can confirm that your brother and sons are doing well.”
Kelliark’s phoenix, Belot, had been radiating fierce hostility from the moment Ron appeared. Ron stroked his beard, his gaze shifting between Kelliark and the fiery beast.
“They seemed quite expectant, saying you might join them soon. Unfortunately, your summon—whose neck and wings I once severed—won’t be able to go with you, thanks to its immortality.”
Fwoosh!
Suddenly, Belot’s wings swelled. Following Kelliark’s will, the phoenix moved to engulf the Sword Emperor Castle in flames. In an instant, its two wings, now as massive as ships, wrapped around the front and back of the fortress.
Even as they coiled, the wings continued to expand and vomit fire, threatening to melt the entire Sword Emperor Castle on the spot.
“Did you think I would permit your knights to escape?”
Ron slowly drew Rashid from his waist.
Shring…
Amidst the dense, suffocating heat, the sound of Rashid’s blade sliding from its scabbard was exceptionally cold.
The shining blade cut through the air once, creating a silent ripple.
Immediately, a formless gale poured out from the sword in all directions. Tens of thousands of invisible blades of wind began to slowly push back Belot’s flames.
Belot let out a roar, trying to tighten its wings, but Ron’s composure didn't waver for a second, even as the clash of powers grew violently intense.
In that moment, an ominous doubt crept into Kelliark’s mind.
Could it be… Has Ron crossed the wall?
Creation.
The realm of transcendence and absolute power, a height only Cyron was known to have reached. For a fleeting second, Kelliark glimpsed that very realm within Ron.
The hand gripping Rashid was pale—so thin from long illness and unconsciousness that one could hardly imagine it belonged to the Sword Emperor. His body had become so gaunt that even his clothes could not hide it.
And yet, the power radiating from the Sword Emperor right now possessed a light and majesty stronger than ever before. It was enough to make even Kelliark Zipple momentarily mistake him for standing in Cyron’s realm.
No, Ron has not… reached him yet.
If he hadn't experienced Cyron’s power firsthand, Kelliark would have been certain. He would have believed that Ron had finally stepped into the realm of Creation. The only reason Kelliark did not fall into terror and helplessness was purely because Cyron existed in this world.
Creation was a realm only Cyron had proven possible, and the power Ron now displayed fell just short of that proof.
Even so, a tremor like rolling thunder surged through Kelliark's body. His senses went cold, as if a blade were already pressed against his spine.
It wasn't just Kelliark; everyone was experiencing the same shock. The dragons and mages of the Zipple fleet, the allied forces, the Runcandels watching from afar, and Talaris, who was guarding Dante’s seal.
In particular, the phoenix Belot, who was clashing directly with Ron, could not accept that the enemy who had once severed its wings had become this strong.
[Kaaaaaaah—!]
Finally, Belot’s wings, which had been constricting the Sword Emperor Castle, were forced wide and torn open.
The phoenix shrieked in pain as fire from its mangled wings rained down upon the ground like hail. The strongest phoenix, summoned by the absolute master of magic, was suffering the humiliation of having its wings torn by the same man once again.
And Ron hadn't even swung his sword.
The Zipple main force could not believe their eyes. This was the result of Ron simply drawing his sword and unleashing his aura.
Belot repeatedly retracted and spread its diminished wings, radiating frantic resentment, while Kelliark felt a single, invisible blade of wind graze his neck.
“…You have grown stronger, Ron Hairan.”
“I wasn’t just lying there wasting away.”
“Is it the power of the White Stone?”
“It is the power of Hairan, which is currently breaking that bastard.”
Jin took note of Ron’s meaningful words.
—This is a barrier born from the rejection of chaos. Your friend, Ron’s grandson, is currently fighting chaos within himself. Therefore, I have no reason to fulfill my mission yet.
The internal war Dante was waging against chaos had begun the moment he followed the voice of the White Stone and took possession of the stone Ron had held. Naturally, the one who had been fighting the chaos of the White Stone before that was Ron Hairan himself.
Ron had achieved a new realm through that fierce and terrible struggle.
The power of Hairan was ‘breaking that bastard.’ The meaning was clear.
The chaos of the White Stone couldn't defeat Lord Ron, so it tempted Dante instead. Or perhaps, it was defeated by Lord Ron and fled to Dante.
A surge of hope rose in Jin. Perhaps Dante, just like Ron, could emerge victorious in his struggle against the White Stone. Hope that his friend could cast the thing aside and return.
“If I lose to you, my retreating knights will eventually meet their deaths anyway,” Ron said, his voice laced with provocation. “So, why don't you focus on defeating me and just let them go? It would look much better for the historians who record this battle.”
Kelliark showed no particular reaction. “Historical records… you speak of interesting things. History is written by the victors, after all. But if it helps you save face, I shall not interfere.”
“Today is the first day since we met that we’ve actually seen eye to eye.”
Kelliark shook Hrotti, erasing the fire seal he had engraved in the air.
“Knights!” Ron shouted, turning back to the Hairan knights. His booming voice shook the heavens.
The knights offered a sword salute in unison, clenching their teeth to hold back tears.
“I, Ron Hairan, Lord of the Sword Emperor Castle.” Ron slowly returned the salute. It was not the gesture of a lord accepting his subordinates’ respect, but a sincere salute offered as a sinner who was late, as a man standing lower than those who had never once betrayed Hairan.
“To you who leave Hairan for the sake of Hairan, I express my deepest gratitude and respect.”
Enduring a pain greater than snapping bones or flayed skin, every single knight of Hairan managed to hold back their tears. They could endure it, because they felt that if they cried now, this truly would be the end.
When Kalmain lowered his sword, the knights followed suit. Ron, however, remained in his salute.
“…Hairan! Everyone, follow me and the Dragon Knights! We evacuate the castle!”
Under Kalmain’s command, all the knights withdrew. Only after their retreating figures disappeared beyond the collapsed cliffs of the rear gate did Ron finally lower his sword.
He turned back to the battlefield—a desolate expanse filled entirely with enemies.