Chapter 77
Chapter 77
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Phantom Thief Dauphin (20) - Cheers of Victory
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The Sarno Knight Order was formidable.
They were masters of the deadly arts befitting true knights.
Their bodies might resemble those of ordinary humans, but the moment they channeled mana into them, they rivaled the ferocity of savage beasts.
Their gear, too, was infused with mana, pushing their already immense offensive and defensive capabilities to the absolute limit.
—Yet all that strength meant nothing in front of Dalia.
Buuuuung!
Dalia's stance as she faced the knights was utterly bizarre.
She gripped a spear meant to be wielded with both hands in just one, and even then, not at the balance point but near the very end of the shaft, swinging it wildly.
Anyone with even a modicum of spear expertise would call her form sloppy or crude.
Swinging a spear like that might widen the attack range, but it made it nearly impossible to put full power behind the thrust.
The shaft might just tap against an opponent's body, and that was it.
No one would expect a proper strike from such a posture—hell, they'd be lucky if her own wrist didn't shatter. A reckless move, through and through.
"Grraaaak!"
But the Sarno knights, forced to face that recklessness head-on, couldn't afford to mock Dalia.
It wasn't about battlefield etiquette or anything like that. They were simply dying like bugs under her clumsy assaults.
Just a tap from the shaft? That mere tap pulverized flesh, shattered bones, and churned organs. What were they supposed to do about it?
It was like colliding with a high-speed carriage.
Compared to slamming your whole body into it, using just one arm might lessen the shock a bit, but the impact site would still be wrecked, and the connected limbs wouldn't escape unscathed either.
Defenses were utterly meaningless.
Block with a sword, and the blade snapped. Try to brace with armor, and it crumpled. Mana reinforcement changed nothing.
However, even more despairing than Dalia's monstrous strength was something else entirely.
"Why! Just why can't we cut her down?!"
The vice-captain screamed.
Even a kitchen knife swung by some housewife with no combat experience could deliver a lethal wound to a commoner.
How much more so for a sword wielded by a 4th Circle knight? It could cleave boulders apart.
Yet Dalia took their slashes bare-handed and emerged without a single scratch.
Shoulder strikes with their full weight behind them, thrusting stabs channeling charging momentum right into her back—every attack bounced harmlessly off her skin, not even drawing blood, let alone inflicting mortal wounds.
"This... this is impossible..."
Thick armor could be bypassed by targeting the gaps.
Impenetrable defenses could be overwhelmed by coordinated assaults from all sides.
But when she didn't bother defending at all, ignored every attack, and still came out unscathed?
—Whether it's a 4th Circle knight unleashing sword auras or a 1st Circle peasant picking up a blade for the first time, does it all mean nothing before this woman!?
The Sarno knights were strong.
Against regular soldiers, they could take on ten at once and win. With hit-and-run tactics, even a hundred was manageable.
But surpass a thousand opponents, and even they couldn't guarantee victory against mere peasants, let alone soldiers.
Human stamina, mana, and mental fortitude had limits. A stray arrow or blade could wound anyone.
This held true even for their captain, a 5th Circle powerhouse.
Auras boasted absolute power, but at the cost of immense consumption.
Dalia was different.
She didn't need to count heads.
Mana reinforcement was as natural to her as breathing—a passive skill she could maintain effortlessly for a year straight without conscious effort.
Even against hundreds, thousands, or tens of thousands, as long as none reached 5th Circle, she could slaughter them all without a scratch.
An individual conquering multitudes. A ability that outright denied that age-old axiom.
And this power wasn't honed through training or spear mastery—it was innate, as natural as if she'd been born and lived ordinarily.
That was why Dalia had always suppressed and restrained herself more than anyone.
Even when something grated on her, even when she wanted to smash everything in sight, she adhered strictly to rules and discipline.
She endured the sneers of stupidity, the tsks of impatience.
Because if someone blessed with such unparalleled violence just acted on whims, it would spell catastrophe.
She feared her "righteous" actions might circle back to torment even more people.
Like her father said, she wanted to believe this strength was for helping, not harming.
"...Even so, you've crossed the line. I know full well that holding back here would be the real mistake!!"
With every swing of Dalia's spear, knights painstakingly raised by the Sarno count's family scattered like autumn leaves.
She usually tempered her strength even against criminals, but against those slaughtering citizens? No mercy.
Facing an opponent who crushed their lifelong mastery with her mere presence, the knights cowered in fear.
A stark change from the bravado they'd shown the civilians.
"Out of my way! I'll handle her!"
The captain, sensing his men's faltering morale, charged forward.
Leave her unchecked, and morale would plummet irreparably.
Cannot cut with sword aura? Then sword beam it is.
But as he advanced on Dalia, his intent was thwarted.
"Have you forgotten about me already? How rude!"
Dauphin.
The culprit behind this entire fiasco blocked the captain's path.
Dauphin's condition was pitiable even as flattery.
His right shoulder was a gaping void below, blood gushing ceaselessly from the severed stump.
His face was ashen, legs trembling—a terminal patient on the brink of collapse.
Yet a brazen, defiant smile played on his lips, his eyes gleaming fiercely.
The captain glared, grinding his teeth.
"You half-dead thief, still got breath for talk?!"
The captain was certain of victory.
Even intact, Dauphin couldn't withstand his strikes.
In that precarious state, fighting was impossible.
"True enough, I won't deny it. Personality aside, your strength is at least passable."
Dauphin couldn't beat the captain.
But that didn't mean he lacked options.
"Forgotten, have we? I'm no honorable knight—I'm a cowardly, vile phantom thief!"
With that, he raised a small gem-like object in his remaining left hand.
The captain flinched, patting himself down frantically.
"When did you...!"
The magic tool he'd used to berate the entire city—imbued with amplification and projection spells.
Stolen with deft fingers, Dauphin activated it without hesitation and bellowed.
Silence fell.
Not in dismissal, but utter focus on his words.
Realizing Dauphin's ploy, the captain lunged.
Dodging lethal strikes, Dauphin pressed on.
Someone clenched a fist.
Someone wept from surging emotions.
Someone trembled, recalling the past.
If discontent brews, speak it yourself.
If rage boils, stand on your own legs.
If desire burns, seize it with your own hands.
"Shut your mouth!!"
Slaaaash!
The captain's sword carved Dauphin from shoulder to calf in a deep diagonal gash, blood spraying.
As the amplification tool slipped from the unmistakably mortally wounded Dauphin's grasp, the captain crushed it in rage.
"No matter what drivel you spew, think those trashes will budge!? Cowards who only beg and rely on others, gaining courage from your words alone? Delusional fool!!"
Dauphin replied.
"Indeed... My words alone lack such power. At best, a single drop in a glass."
"Then—"
"But what if that glass was already brimming full?"
The captain froze.
Even in death's throes, Dauphin's unshaken confidence stirred primal dread.
"You filled the glass. I merely added the final drop."
Only then did the captain survey his surroundings.
The city guard.
Levruk's other armed force encircled them, fully equipped.
And behind the guards stood thousands upon thousands of citizens, eyes blazing with fury.
"Uh... ugh."
Squire apprentices, attendants, surviving regular knights backpedaled, clustering together.
Normally, the captain would berate them for cowering before peasants, but not this time. He said nothing.
Cold sweat soaked his back.
Even Birka's strongest knight couldn't win against such numbers.
The one guardsman who might? He was their deadliest foe.
Exploiting a gap for escape was possible, but fleeing would tarnish the order's honor irreparably.
In the end, only one path remained.
"Y-You lot! Have you lost your minds!? We're the Sarno count's emblem! Harm us, and the count won't stand idle!!"
Threats leaning on backers.
Pathetically petty for their usual swagger, yet effective.
Except.
"Shut it, you bastard."
Forgetting Dalia's proximity while clumsily threatening the crowd? Utter idiocy.
Though perhaps diverting attention was Dauphin's aim.
Smaaash!
Dalia's overhead smash sent the captain sprawling.
He reflexively cloaked himself in aura to avert fatality, but his broken stance left no room for counterattack.
Dalia had already seized his ankle, slamming him into the ground.
Kaboom!
Kabooooom!
KABOOOOOOOOM!
Three earth-shaking booms.
Dalia created a crater large enough to bury a grown man whole, then discarded the twisted, crumpled human flail.
She turned calmly to the remaining knights.
"Keep going, or surrender."
Without hesitation, they prostrated themselves, begging for mercy.
The gathered crowd erupted in cheers.
Loud. Long.
Cheers that would echo from Levruk across the entire county.