Superior - Help the Warlord!
“Ha……”
Jenas let out an involuntary chuckle at the voice echoing across the battlefield. His elite subordinates following behind him were likely doing the same.
For the Blue Wing Knights of Valentia—one of the empire's premier knight orders—to be ordered to aid a great warrior of the orcs, their eternal enemies? How had things come to this?
“Captain, this is a bit……”
Even Drexler, one of the Blue Wing vice-captains and a friend of Tiny's, pressed close and voiced his reluctance. But.
“His Grace ordered us to prioritize Tiny…… Sir Tiny's commands. We follow that order.”
“……Understood.”
With that difficult decision made, the battlefield was suddenly upon them.
Orc warriors who looked half-mad, their eyes spinning wildly—clearly not in their right minds. With rhino-mounted orc cavalry and infantry combined, their numbers seemed to approach a thousand.
No matter how elite they were, the twenty Blue Wing knights here couldn't handle that horde. But they weren't alone in this fight.
“We'll carve the path. Handle the cleanup.”
—Of course.
Jenas's brow furrowed slightly at the curt, distorted voice, but he didn't show his discomfort. With their identities concealed for a mission that couldn't afford exposure—masks on, insignia removed—it was mutual. No room for camaraderie, even in this dire moment.
But setting that aside.
'They seem just like those who ambushed His Grace at the Kreim Palace that day……'
Such suspicions didn't sit well. Yet they were imperial agents. The hundred-plus masked figures were essential reinforcements here.
In the end, Jenas turned his gaze back to the front.
“……Charge!!!”
“Ha!!”
At Jenas's roar, Drexler and the knights accelerated in unison, drawing elongated Mana Blades from their weapons. All were Blader-level experts or higher—no need for lances in a mounted charge.
As the Blue Wing elites unleashed their Mana Blades in a synchronized assault, they intertwined around Jenas in a intricate pattern.
Woooom.
What emerged was a massive pair of blue wings enveloping all twenty riders.
“Uoooooh!”
With the blue wings unfurled, the knights surged forward several times faster, merging into one as they barreled toward their target. Centered on the silver Mana Blade blazing from Jenas at the vanguard, they resembled a colossal silver eagle with azure wings.
“Chaaarge!!”
“Uwaaah!”
This was the essence of the Blue Wing Knights, the origin of their Blue Wings—the reason a human knight order was a threat to physically superior orc warriors. A group combat skill. And among them, Blue Wings was one of the finest.
It lived up to its name.
—Kwaaaaang!
As if a true giant eagle had slammed into the orc army's flank, dozens of orc warriors exploded into sprays of blood in an instant, followed by even more crushed in seconds as the formation was pierced.
Just before the Blue Wings faded, the hundred black-masked figures trailing behind vanished from their mounts.
And then.
“Grrk!”
“Guh!?”
“Kyaak!”
Dozens of orcs charging mindlessly at Zerik suddenly clutched their throats or eyes and collapsed. As Jenas's gaze flicked to the lightning-fast masked figures behind them.
—Where are you looking? Our place is here. Leave this to the subordinates.
The Shadow Leader spoke at unusual length, pointing to one side of the battlefield.
There, Tiny was charging toward the clash of silver aura and sinister black magic at the center.
'Damn it!'
His lord's command flashed in Jenas's mind.
—Obey Tiny's orders, but if things go south, rescue him and withdraw. His life comes first.
“……Damn it. Sir Tiny, what the hell are you doing?”
A sigh escaped Jenas's lips. He'd secretly hoped the great warrior would exhaust himself against the orcs and die.
—Damn…… it?
Jenas ignored the Shadow Leader's nitpicking tone. No choice now.
The orc great warrior—known only by reputation—a grotesquely mutated giant orc, and two armored knights on bone horses that sent chills down the spine. None looked easy.
“Fine. Let's go die once.”
Jenas steeled himself and wheeled his mount. In that brief moment, the prodding Shadow Leader had already plunged into the brutal melee.
* * *
Tiny gritted his teeth and leaped into the battlefield's heart.
Just as he'd breathed relief at Jenas and the Reaper's arrival, Zerik was being pushed back perilously.
He couldn't just watch.
'Damn, aura's still out of reach.'
Still, he had to intervene.
Woooom.
“Sniping from range isn't my style, but……”
Pababak.
At least he could irritate them.
“Taap!”
Paaang!
Riding Wolrang, he flung a sunset-hued orb from his hammer's tip. It streaked like an arrow, smashing into the rear of the Death Knight attacking Zerik.
But the knight glanced back only briefly before ignoring him and refocusing on Zerik.
Tsk.
'As expected.'
No matter his mana control, without mage-level power, ranged attacks lacked punch.
Then.
“Let's see if you ignore this!”
“Kyong!”
Paaang!
Acceleration upon acceleration—the silver wolf and rider poured all mana into speed, thundering like lightning.
The moment the hundreds of meters closed in an instant.
'Now!'
At his resolve, gravity shifted extremely. Wolrang and Tiny, light as one-sixteenth weight in their charge, reverted to full mass—then ballooned sixteenfold heavier.
Weight amplified while speed held, right before impact—the Death Knight with its greatsword finally turned.
A sticky, nauseating aura oozed from it, thick enough to coat the skin.
Kwaaaang!
“Kuh!”
At collision, Tiny and Wolrang were hurled back a dozen meters instead.
His ultimate charge backfired unpleasantly. Even that brief clash let invading energy corrupt his mana, worsening internal injuries.
The enemy's damage? Merely a few steps back for its skeletal steed.
Some reason lingered—the mental roar rang as the skeletal horse closed in terrifyingly fast. Its greatsword swung, rippling with even thicker, fouler energy. Tiny's face hardened.
'Dark Aura.'
Unlike mid-realm aura's radiant light, this devoured it—a pinnacle of demonic energy.
Too fast to dodge in his state. Blocking head-on?
'I'd shatter.'
His Transcendent WeaponAnimus on his shoulder might hold, but his body wouldn't.
Awareness sharpened focus, accelerated thought slowing perceived time.
'Kuh, first—block this!'
His superhuman mana control barely pinned the invading Dark Aura; his reinforced body moved sluggishly in slowed time.
One option left.
Woooom.
'Hold on, Stamp.'
Praying to his beloved weapon, he forcibly drew mana.
Wooong.
Red and yellow mana split from his hand, opposite gravities blending at Stamp's head.
A displeasing crackle erupted from it.
Kududuk.
The destruction-attribute attack he'd used once post-Great Forest ambush. It had destroyed Grandal's artifact then.
Small mercy: better control now. Clutching the cracking Stamp, he focused all mana and physical power.
And.
“Uwaap!”
He swung the hammer at the oncoming greatsword.
Simultaneously, a violent shock wracked his body.
-------!!!!
No sound amid the silence; a shockwave hurled him back, his grip suddenly empty.
A jolt pierced from crown to toe, seizing control. Amid the blast, Wolrang unsummoned naturally.
Thud.
His limp body bounced and tumbled across the dirt, consciousness fading.
But.
'Pass out now, and I'm dead!'
Desperate will clung to awareness. Shaking his head, he rallied, drawing ambient mana via faint remnants in his Mana Body / Nian Ti.
The sticky demonic aura everywhere hindered, but.
'Did this in the Great Labyrinth.'
Wooong.
His mana sensitivity and soul power long transcended norms. His soul—originally 8th-stage Aura Exceeder-level—had qualitatively leaped fourfold via spirit arts, amplified further by Animus.
Recent all-out strikes without overlimit fears had honed his Mana Body's recovery. It now voraciously absorbed surrounding mana.
Pain surged anew.
“Kuh……”
He couldn't sense his surroundings or injuries—pure instinct purged filthy demonic energy, welcoming pure mana.
After cycles of cleansing and refilling.
Sensation sharpened; he grasped the situation.
Meaning.
'I broke through!'
Despite past-life experience, he'd leaped realms instantly—bypassing gradual accumulation.
Mana User 5th stage. The realm called Superior.
Mana recovery accelerated, confirming it.
And soon.
'Zerik, Reaper, Jenas…… This is bad.'
Realizing the dire straits, he forced his creaking body up.
“Kuh.”
Freshly recovered, right hand clutching only Stamp's haft. Even at new heights, no greater power yet.
But a way to help.
'……I can do it.'
Superior's hallmark: attribute-fused Mana Blade—the Soul Weapon.
Typically like Jenas's—imbuing blades for mid-to-long range. But he was different.
Body tempered by dual-gravity clashes. The freak phenomenon he'd dubbed destruction-attribute was his to wield.
“More than enough.”
Woooong.
Concentrating, he formed a black orb at the combat hammer's remnant end.
It devoured all nearby energies, pulsing in bizarre compression and expansion.
Gazing briefly, Tiny plunged back into the fray.