Chapter 184
Chapter 184
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 184
Chapter Title: Crushing Indomitable Might
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Kwaaa!
The black sword was slender, but the aura enveloping it was as thick and brutish as an iron club.
Crack!
The aura that grazed the end of his sleeve slammed into a boulder—not slicing it, but pulverizing it into oblivion without a trace.
The powdered rock surrendered to the trembling air, swirling like cherry blossoms in spring.
Dodging the lethal sword strike, he closed the distance and aimed for Staat's chin.
"Hmph!"
Staat countered by raising his elbow to smash down on the incoming fist.
Independently of the elbow, a dagger gripped in reverse grip targeted his shoulder blade.
Whiiik!
Twisting his body to evade the dagger, he unleashed a barrage of strikes toward Staat's exposed waist.
Dududududududu!
Fists that would fell any ordinary knight in an instant hammered relentlessly toward Staat's midsection.
The rock dust, adrift in the air, danced even more wildly from the fierce motion of the punches.
Pusss!
As the thickening dust obscured his vision, he pulled back the distance and swung his hand blade horizontally toward Staat.
Whiiiik!
A golden aura traced the arc of his arm, drawing a long crescent that cleaved through the dust cloud.
Kwaaaang!
The dust cloud split apart, kicking up an even larger plume.
Was it the flashy display? Even though the battle was nearly over, the few remaining local skirmishes had ground to a stalemate.
They had realized it too. Their lives hung on the outcome of this fight.
As the freely unleashed aura dispersed into the empty air, the situation within the dust began to reveal itself bit by bit.
Staat, his appearance a mess from the dirt and dust, crouched with his aura-clad twin swords crossed in defense.
His body bore countless minor scratches from the fists and aura strikes, but not a single one was severe enough to impact the fight.
'An aura clash won't cut it.'
It wasn't that his aura was weak. Through relentless training with the mana cultivation method Earth and the ingestion of the wyvern's inner core, his aura had long surpassed that of an ordinary Sword Master.
Yet he couldn't pierce Staat's aura—a man not even one of the Four Marquises—which meant the power of his Indomitable was that formidable.
'...The energy itself isn't much. But damn, it's tricky.'
A mere second-stage Low-rank power.
If it were like the other Holy Knights mixing Heterogenous Powers with aura, he wouldn't stand a chance.
The problem was the nature of that Indomitable.
Unlike other Heterogenous Powers, it wasn't something that could be blended with other forces.
It amplified one's existing power.
In other words, it elevated the knightly realm Staat had built—making it exceedingly hard to exploit gaps.
Gaps born from the awkwardness of wielding Heterogenous Powers and aura simultaneously.
As a contender for the throne, he had chosen wisely.
Strengthening a familiar power was far more advantageous than clumsily juggling unfamiliar ones.
"All that big talk, and this is all you've got?"
Staat brushed the dirt from his body and straightened from his crouch with a sneer.
"You said something earlier, didn't you? What was it... If this is all, you won't escape alive? I'll throw those words right back at you."
Adapting the Imperial Swordsmanship's basic forms to dual-wield style, Staat grinned.
"If this is all, you'll die here."
Toong!
Staat's body closed in rapidly—a speed rivaling the Beast Sword Crank.
Chachachachak!
The right and left swords hacked ferociously, trying to shred his body.
Impressive.
Combined with Crank-level power and formal Imperial Swordsmanship instead of raw beastly swordplay, it was immensely threatening.
Yet for some reason.
Though his energy had grown stronger, facing him felt increasingly manageable.
"Hahaha! Got nothing at all?!"
Growing accustomed to the Moon Step movements, the right sword grazed his shoulder blade, and the left sharply sliced his waist.
As even his thigh and chest were on the verge of being cut, it finally clicked. He was certain.
"I see. You too, for all your arrogance, ended up devoured in the end."
"What nonsense!"
Chuliric!
The longsword slithered like a viper from the lower right up toward his head.
Hung!
A paper-thin dodge. Undeterred by the miss, Staat thrust at his heart with his left hand.
The speed was lightning-fast.
Hung!
Yet it missed again by a mere layer of skin.
From Jerome's words onward, Staat's attacks began missing by a hair's breadth as if by magic.
"......!!"
One or two times could be coincidence. He couldn't fathom how a wastrel son from some backwater kingdom—not even an Imperial-raised genius like himself—had amassed such prowess.
Jerome's martial skill was the real deal. So even with his power amplified, dodging once or twice was possible.
But if those paper-thin evasions continued relentlessly.
Even a fool would notice.
That the situation had turned foul.
"You bastard!"
Staat slashed down wildly, intent on cleaving Jerome in half.
Jerome crossed his gauntlets in an X, deflecting the sword strike sideways before launching his body up to kick Staat's temple.
Paaaak!
"Keuk!"
The impact nearly popped Staat's eyes from their sockets, snapping his head back as he groaned.
He urgently summoned aura to shield his head, sparing his skull from shattering, but the violent shaking inside was unavoidable.
Kuung!
Stamping forward powerfully to close on the reeling Staat.
Whirling the energy from the advance into his back and shoulders, he collided with Staat.
Teong!
Staat, who hadn't dropped his swords even after the head blow, couldn't withstand a direct Iron Mountain Thrust.
"Keheok!"
Staggering back, Staat clutched his chest with his now-empty right hand, staring at the sword caught between Jerome's gauntlets.
"You...!!"
Tuk!
Casually tossing the trapped sword aside, Jerome spoke.
"As expected. No matter how much your captains are hailed as Imperial geniuses, they're still green."
They hadn't grasped their own flaws.
"I'll show you just how wrong your judgment was."
He kicked the fallen longsword far away before charging at Staat.
"I'll kill you!"
Staat's left-hand dagger brimmed with energy, unleashing repeated aura blasts.
That condensed aura could upheave the earth and shatter boulders with ease.
But it was no longer the least bit threatening.
Unfurling Moon Step, he toyed with the blasts leisurely while closing in.
The golden aura condensed, gathering in both hands.
As the compressed aura deepened, eventually tinged with black.
Cheeeeng!
"Keheok!"
Pushing the dagger aside with his right hand, he drove his left fist straight into Staat's solar plexus.
One of the body's vital points struck dead-on—Staat's movements froze for an instant.
That was enough.
First, the left hand still holding a weapon.
Crack!
Twisting the arm at an unnatural angle, he dislocated it.
Hooking a leg to topple Staat's balance, he slammed his shoulder in.
Pinning the knee while airborne, he unleashed a flurry of kicks.
His iron pillar-like legs precisely struck every corner of Staat's body.
Teoong!
Like the toll of a golden bell, the battered ragdoll form of Staat emerged.
Thud!
Staat dropped to one knee, gasping raggedly.
"How... why..."
Too dazed from the impacts to continue, but his question was clear.
He couldn't comprehend his defeat.
"Power gained without your own bitter training is that crude and fleeting."
Staat's honed Variable Sword, tempered through countless battlefields, had reached a master's realm.
To the point Pankration couldn't carelessly close distance.
But activating Indomitable and believing his realm rivaled—no, surpassed—the Four Marquises, Staat became intoxicated.
He abandoned his refined sword for reliance on aura and physical prowess.
Who knows. If he'd formally trained the Heterogenous Power, grappling with the disconnect from his sword in agony, he might have mastered its proper use.
But mocking the Black Lions' sacrifices, snatching power like a dog grabbing tossed meat—it was impossible to reach that height so easily.
Staat had sought to refine his power through Heterogenous means, but ended up addicted to it instead.
'No need to spell it out for a dead man.'
Besides, seeing Staat's expression now, he seemed to have realized his mistake.
"Any last words?"
"...You who ally with the continent's monstrous evil—may the Lord's curse be upon you! My vengeance lies with Duke Camille..."
Chaaak!
A hand blade silenced Staat's venomous rant.
No value in a dying man's curses.
"...Phew! Looks like it's wrapped up."
Glancing around, the remaining Seven Star Knights had lost all will to fight.
"Tchick! You've gotten stronger, Jerome."
Approaching Hatan admired purely—no wariness in his eyes.
'You've grown too.'
A year from now, Hatan would challenge him to the once-halted Makgora.
If his skill hadn't advanced, he couldn't admire so genuinely.
"Tchick! This settles the debt from Death Valley. Tchick!"
'...Not entirely.'
This battle-mad orc would react the same regardless.
"Thanks. Argus, my gratitude to you as well."
"No need. Without you, my clan wouldn't have changed like this. Compared to that grace, this is nothing."
Swoosh!
Hatan and Argus turned simultaneously toward the fallen Holy Knights.
"Tchick. Then, as promised, we'll take our share."
"Us too."
"...Go ahead."
He had promised Hatan and Argus: cleanup of the Seven Star Knights was theirs.
The Cyclopes coveted the Empire's famed metallurgy in their armor and gear—to infuse new winds into their craft.
The orcs wanted the knights themselves. Likely because of the 'seal' he'd placed on Hatan.
Better not dwell, he pushed the thought aside.
"Then hurry and handle the rest so we can move..."
"Hold on."
Rampang, who had watched from the hill, descended and halted him as he prepared to finish the survivors.
"Jerome, mind yielding five to me? I want to know how those bastards got their hands on Heterogenous Powers."
"!"
Rampang's words lit a spark. He knew they wielded them, but not how.
"Rampang, confident?"
"...People think I'm soft because of Veras, but if I set my mind, I can drag out memories from birth in three days."
'No, I meant confidence in not killing them.'
...No need to say it aloud.
Rampang's request was reasonable, so after explaining to Hatan and Argus and promising compensation, he handed over the five.
The Holy Knights looked humiliated, but if they knew what awaited, they'd wear worse expressions.
'Now it's truly over.'
With the Holy Empire excursion done, no more Imperial matters befitted his position as the Shield Family's third son.
A brief respite had arrived for the one who had charged ahead relentlessly.
The site where the Seven Star Knights had been annihilated in Jerome's trap.
After the fierce storm passed, as if it had never happened, a group of men and horses emerged at the mountain base, now eerily quiet.
Dududududu!
Unbothered by hiding their gleaming silver gear, it was the Four Star Knights and Duke Camille.
"This the place?"
At Duke Camille's question, a Four Star Knight who had scouted ahead for Seven Star traces reported.
"Certain, Your Grace. I wondered why the Shield Family's third son headed here, but it seems he laid a trap."
He could tell without the report. Unlike the plains with no battle signs, traces littered here.
"One incomprehensible thing, though."
"Incomprehensible?"
"Yes, Your Grace. No bodies—ally or enemy. We searched every inch within 1km, not a single corpse. Not even gear or armor."
"......!!"
Duke Camille's face hardened. Having wrecked his lab before, he anticipated danger for the Seven Stars.
But defeat leaving no traces was another matter.
That required a sizable foe.
"...Pick up speed. Keep tracking."
Further down entered Banten territory—diplomatically sensitive.
Yet Four Star Captain Saint couldn't interject.
Duke Camille's aura was too fierce.
"As you command, Your Grace."
He simply obeyed. Duke Camille held the power to override all issues.
Dududududu!
Duke Camille and the Four Star Knights pressed southward again.
Jerome's respite had yet to arrive.