Chapter 552: Omen (21)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 552: Omen (21)
Octavia had believed that not even Rosa Runcandel herself, leading the Black Knights, could have defeated her.
The fact that she had been bested was shocking enough, but that this was the result of a battle against Jin’s party was simply incomprehensible. It wasn’t as if she’d been caught off guard, either.
She had unleashed the most powerful magic at her disposal, yet it had been utterly insufficient against the combined Karma Fire of Jin and Misha.
It’s not over yet.
She wanted to scream the words and rise again, but her broken body could do nothing more than convulse.
“The Captain has regained consciousness!”
“Captain, your orders…!” the members of the Wraith Squad guarding her shouted urgently.
The collision between Jin and Misha’s Karma Fire and Octavia’s Secret Ultimate Technique had instantly thrown the ground battle into its final, desperate stage.
The moment Octavia fell, both sides began desperately squeezing out their remaining strength. The Wraith Squad had to hold back the warriors trying to seize the opportunity, while Jin’s party had to finish Octavia off at any cost.
Everyone was certain: if they failed to end Octavia’s life now, there would be no second chance. They had to secure their victory while the Wraith Squad was encumbered with protecting her.
The Wraith Squad had lost three members, and six others were too severely injured to continue fighting. In contrast, while every member of the Barmul Alliance was wounded, not a single one had died.
This was the result of a Runcandel magic sword shattering Zipple magic. Of course, had Jin been alone, such a feat would have been impossible.
However, Misha, like Octavia, had poured everything she had into that clash.
As the battle resumed, she found herself unable to rejoin the fray. She panted heavily, looking as though even the effort of reverting to her human form to minimize the aftershocks was a struggle.
“Misha, are you alright?”
Jin was also exhausted, but not to the point where it significantly hindered his combat ability. Misha nodded, a faint smile on her lips.
“I thought she would vanish without a trace. Seems I underestimated that thing a little.”
“I was the one who was lacking.”
“No. She’s just a monster in her own right…”
Kh-ugh. Misha spat out a mouthful of turbid spirit energy and glared toward the rear of the Wraith Squad.
She had been certain that the Karma Fire she had unleashed with Jin would kill Octavia.
“Be careful, Jin. Octavia Zipple… I have a feeling she’ll get up again.”
Jin shared the premonition.
She had lost an eye, was suffering from a terrible mana backflow, and her body was utterly shattered, yet it didn’t feel like this was the end for her.
New light-attribute mana began to gather around the fallen Octavia. The glowing energy clung to her flesh, knitting her wounds back together.
The Wraith Squad awaited her command.
They still had a choice: retreat or continue the fight.
The forces of Sword Emperor Castle, on the other hand, had no such choice. They had nowhere left to run.
Had the Wraith Squad judged Octavia to be completely incapacitated, they would have already begun their retreat, taking her with them.
Octavia slowly pushed herself up. Her staggering form looked as if it might collapse at any moment, but the light mana acted as a brace, holding her steady.
“There is… no retreat. Continue the battle.”
At her command, the Wraith Squad’s magic grew even more aggressive.
Misha withdrew to the rear, hiding within Murakan’s veil, while the remaining warriors reformed their line around Jin.
Twenty members of the Wraith Squad were still capable of fighting. However, the moment Octavia recovered, Jin’s party would be forced into a battle far more difficult than before.
“You’re as persistent as they come, Octavia Zipple.”
Embers of Karma Fire still clung to Bradamante. Jin released his remaining mana, coaxing the flames to flare up once more.
It was like a signal. The moment the sword began to burn, Jin’s party and the Wraith Squad thrust their blades and staves at each other again.
Everyone was exhausted and wounded. No one on the ground could exert their full strength.
Because of this, their struggle devolved into the primal essence of combat. It was a chaotic, desperate melee—a raw, savage brawl.
Mages pierced by swords and knights struck by magic didn’t scream; they let out guttural, beast-like roars.
The monstrous strength of Jin and the Sword Saints stood out in particular.
In such a brutal clash, it was only natural for the Runcandel sword of the Overlord’s Way and the Hairan Overlord Sword—which was modeled after it—to shine the brightest.
Desperately.
Jin forged a path toward Octavia. With every swing, his dark-blue-stained Bradamante shattered spells and barriers. Blood surged in his throat from the recoil, but he didn’t stop.
To stop was to die. Having already plunged into the enemy’s ranks, falling or even pausing here meant certain death.
The same was true for his comrades who followed him into the fray.
It was like trying to swim across a vast sea; once you started, there was no turning back. The moment you stopped before reaching the other side, only a cold death awaited.
Every moment brought the possibility of death; every second carried the risk of being maimed.
Yet, as they threw themselves onto such a path, not a single warrior showed fear. They simply watched Jin’s back, deflecting enemies that flew toward his blind spots, trusting him as they pushed forward.
‘Why won’t the 12th Flagbearer fall…!’
‘Damn it, how does he still have strength left after reducing the Captain to that state?!’
The Zipple mages could never truly understand the human known as Jin Runcandel.
How could he perform such miracles every single time? Why were they, who clearly held the objective advantage in power, being pushed back? What was this strength?
When had he become such a colossal enemy?
Even as they screamed and unleashed Great Magic, Jin’s breakthrough showed no sign of slowing.
He’ll stop this time. He’ll take a step back this time. He’ll surely fall this time…!
Every prediction was proven wrong. At one point, a Chain Magic spell from the Wraith Squad struck Jin squarely in the chest, yet he seemed entirely unaffected.
The Chain Magic had passed through him as if he were a ghost.
Wait, passed through like a ghost?
Dammit!
In that moment, the members of the Wraith Squad were forced to realize a horrifying truth.
They had been duped by the Black Dragon Misha’s tricks once again.
From the middle of the breakthrough, the one they had been attacking was not the real Jin. It was an illusion of him, crafted from spirit energy by Misha just before she withdrew.
Unlike a Spirit Energy Doll, an illusion had no physical presence, but it was more than enough to deceive enemies who had lost their composure.
“Do you really have the leisure to waste power on an illusion? I don’t think so,” Jin spoke as he plunged his sword into the abdomen of a Wraith Squad member.
He had hidden himself among the Sword Saints while the attacks were focused on the illusion. The Wraith he had just killed was the one guarding the space directly in front of Octavia.
By then, Octavia had recovered significantly and was steadying herself. However, she was only better off compared to the state she was in right after being hit by the Karma Fire; she was not yet in any condition to fight.
“Block him!”
A mana beam shot through the corpse of the falling Wraith. Jin barely jerked his head aside, the beam grazing his cheek.
He lacked the strength to dodge the follow-up attack, but Sword Saint Luyan stepped forward with unbelievable speed to protect him.
Luyan’s wrist, caught in his periphery, was as thin as a withered branch. It was impossible to believe it belonged to a warrior who had trained her entire life.
The other Sword Saints following behind were just as gaunt as she was—the price of using the Overlord Sword.
Yet, as they withered, their blades grew even sharper, like a flame blooming brilliantly just before it flickers out.
There was no time to offer thanks or even exchange a glance. Jin pushed deeper, leaving the warriors to cover his back.
“Octavia Zipple!”
Whoosh!
The spirit energy and flames enveloping Bradamante intensified. Octavia scrambled backward, trying to avoid Jin’s lunging blade.
For someone of her stature to retreat so ungracefully was normally unthinkable. No matter how much of a mage she was, she had mastered the basic martial arts needed to face warriors and had never retreated like this, even when facing fighters clearly superior to Jin.
It was a movement seen only in the brawls of novices, but Octavia had no other choice.
‘If only I had one more minute to recover…!’
However, Jin failed to cut down the woman who had fled so haphazardly.
The Wraith Squad was still the Wraith Squad. Though the Sword Saints and his comrades were risking their lives to push them back, they hadn't completely dismantled the final line of defense.
If Octavia had been in perfect condition, they wouldn't have been able to get this far in the first place.
As the wind from the blade grazed the tip of her nose, Octavia felt her entire body break out in a cold sweat.
‘Fifty-five seconds now, fifty-four… damn it!’
That time felt agonizingly long.
It seemed her subordinates would not be able to protect her for that long. It wasn't because the Wraith Squad lacked ability.
It was simply that Jin was special—to a degree that could never be explained by words like ‘strong,’ ‘great,’ or ‘lucky.’
Amidst the rain of sword energy and magic, Jin thought of only one thing, as he always did.
Cut.
He was executing the essence of the magic sword, something he had realized even before learning the 1st Form of the Spirit Sword from his siblings.
He was armed with the absolute will to cut.
That will finally broke through the Wraith Squad’s encirclement and reached Octavia once more.
As the dark-blue blade rose to the sky to strike her down, Octavia was forced to confront a massive, dark emotion she had long since forgotten.
Fear.
The fear of her own impending death.
“Kraaaagh!”
“Guh!”
The moment the sword swung down, Octavia and Jin screamed simultaneously.
A mana beam from the Wraith Squad had slammed into Jin’s back. Though his Spirit Energy Armor absorbed the brunt of it, the impact momentarily turned his vision white. As a result, Bradamante failed to cleave Octavia in two.
Squelch!
What Jin cut was Octavia’s staff, which she had thrust out reflexively, and the right hand gripping it.
Dark blue flames clung to the severed stump, hindering the light’s recovery, and the severed hand instantly turned to ash and scattered in the wind.
Pushing in any further was impossible.
‘I have to regroup with my allies and find another opening. Octavia’s recovery will be delayed, so we can still win…!’
If he went deeper, his allies would surely die, even if he survived. Jin looked down at the fallen Octavia as he withdrew.
“You spoke as if you feared nothing in this world. How about now, Octavia Zipple? Is that arrogant heart of yours still the same?”
In her entire life, Octavia had only experienced one moment more humiliating and disgraceful than today: the day she faced Cyron.
Whether it was due to the intervention of the Black Dragon Misha, the struggle of the Sword Saints and his comrades that exceeded all expectations, or Jin’s own special nature.
For whatever reason, Octavia had effectively lost the battle. She had suffered a complete defeat despite possessing an overwhelmingly superior force. Even she had no choice but to admit it.
“This battle is your victory, Jin Runcandel.”
“It’s not over until I’ve cut you down. And I’d prefer you correct that to the victory of the Barmul Alliance and Sword Emperor Castle. Though you won’t be able to once you’re dead…”
The moment he said that.
Suddenly, Jin felt a horrific energy—one he had felt only once, long ago—descending from the sky. His comrades were sensing the same thing.
Octavia spoke in a hollow, detached voice.
“However, my defeat does not mean the defeat of Zipple… which is quite unfortunate for you all.”
What they were feeling was the energy of the Demon God Stone, which had finally completed its awakening.