Chapter 266: The First Continental War (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 266: The First Continental War (4)
The moment Sven's sword tore through his flesh, Kevin plunged into the abyss of his memories.
It was a space of absolute silence.
He drifted aimlessly through the empty void, weightless and unmoored. The bloody battle he had just fought against Sven for Dmitry, along with everything that had led up to it, felt impossibly distant—as if it had all happened to someone else. How much time had passed? The moment he questioned his own existence in this place, a black hole tore open in his mind, sweeping him into a violent storm of memories.
He blinked.
When Kevin opened his eyes, men were bursting into his home.
Crash!
Furniture shattered.
With menacing faces, the men smashed everything in sight. When his father tried to stop them, they grabbed him by the hair. To Kevin, his father was the sky itself. A man so great he would have plucked the stars for his son was now being dragged around helplessly, beaten and slapped. It was a shattering sight.
Fury boiled within him.
He wanted to scream, to charge at them, but his feet were rooted to the floor. He couldn't take a single step. Only then did he realize: this was a fragment of his memory. He was merely watching the past replay in his mind. He wasn't actually alive and breathing in this space.
His father was brutally trampled.
His mother was struck across the face when she tried to intervene. From behind them, the only sound was his younger sister's terrified sobbing.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzzzt.
The space distorted.
He was talking with his father.
When Kevin asked why they had to suffer like this, his father merely forced a smile and said he was fine, offering no other explanation.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzzzt.
This time, the memory shifted to the streets.
Defying their father's strict orders to stay locked inside, his younger sister, Marie, had slipped out—only to be spotted by the very men who had attacked their home. And then, the nightmare unfolded before his eyes. Marie screamed, thrashing against their rough hands, but they were far too strong. Passersby glancing down the alleyway quickly averted their eyes. They knew a crime was taking place, but they had seen the emblem tattooed on the men's forearms.
Knowing exactly what that mark signified, no one dared to intervene.
Kevin charged in.
They beat him to a bloody pulp, but the ensuing commotion drew enough of a crowd that Marie was able to escape safely.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzzzt.
His mother's voice echoed.
She begged him never to do that again.
She told him their family had lost everything because of those people, and that he would lose his life if he acted so rashly. Their enemy was Blood Fang, a ruthless and atrocious criminal syndicate. Pale with terror, she warned him over and over: they were not the type of people to show mercy to a child.
That was the turning point.
From then on, his life began to crumble.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzzzt.
He sank deeper into the abyss.
His memories began to fade.
The Ghost Soul Demonic Art was a highly perilous power. From the moment a practitioner entered the Stage of Encroachment, the ever-present threat of a Heart Demon accompanied them. As the price for drawing upon excessive power for the first time, his mind was collapsing. This replay of his past wasn't a moment of reflection; it was a process of erasure. The memories themselves were asking to be forgotten.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzzzt.
It had been an incredibly exhausting day.
Kevin, who never shied away from any odd job to support his family, had run into Blood Fang on the streets. Recognizing him, they cornered him and demanded money. But as their cruel excitement grew, the extortion escalated into a brutal beating. It hurt. As the relentless blows rained down on him, he heard a strange, unfamiliar voice ring out for the very first time.
"Stop."
No one.
Absolutely no one had ever stepped forward to help him in his darkest moments.
Yet, this man—the first person to refuse to turn a blind eye to his suffering—looked at the thugs of Blood Fang and declared:
"You have violated the laws of Dmitry. Therefore, as the eldest son of the Dmitry family, I shall now execute your sentence for breaking the law."
At that moment, his mind snapped awake.
What did he live for?
As he grasped the true purpose of his life, a familiar voice echoed through the pitch-black darkness.
"Until I return, make sure you overcome the Heart Demon."
Just like back then, Roman Dmitry had recognized his struggle.
He lived for his liege.
If he was still breathing, he had no time to succumb to a mere Heart Demon.
Whoosh.
The darkness receded.
Struggling to sit up, Kevin stared at Hans's small back and rasped, "...How much time has passed?"
That was Kevin's first memory after shattering the Heart Demon.
* * *
Hans made a massive fuss.
As the servant hovered over him, frantically checking his body and asking if he was alright, Kevin maintained a calm expression.
"Please tell me what happened while I was out."
He knew instinctively that a significant amount of time had passed.
The fact that he was alive meant Sven was dead. And judging by Hans's bright expression, he could easily guess that Roman Dmitry was safe. Still, he needed to know exactly what had transpired. Looking at Kevin's pale face, Hans cautiously began his tale.
"Well, during that time..."
It was a long story, spanning from the aftermath of the battle with Sven all the way to the present.
When he brought up Roman Dmitry, Hans relayed what he had heard from the healer.
"According to the healer, Young Master Roman truly risked his own life to treat you and Henderson. The healer said it looked as if he were sharing his very life force. Kevin, that is how desperately Young Master Roman wanted you to survive. When he sees you awake, he will surely be overjoyed."
It was a deeply comforting thought.
Knowing that someone had fought so desperately to save him made him feel that his life hadn't been lived in vain.
However, a complex storm of emotions swirled in Kevin's chest.
The words "life force" triggered a specific memory.
'Could it be that he shared his primordial energy with me?'
During one of his teachings, Roman Dmitry had emphasized that this power was incredibly precious because a person was born with a strictly limited amount. The total depletion of one's primordial energy meant certain death. Hearing that Roman Dmitry had grown increasingly haggard during the treatment, Kevin realized his liege might have sacrificed his own primordial energy for his sake.
He gritted his teeth.
He was profoundly grateful, but he absolutely could not tolerate Roman Dmitry depleting his life force for someone like him. Furthermore, he learned that Roman had declared war on the Kronos Empire to avenge Dmitry. As a sword serving such a master, he could not simply sit idly in a sickbed.
"I must go to the Western Front."
"Kevin!"
He sprang up from the bed.
Ignoring Hans's earnest pleas, Kevin grabbed his sword and marched outside.
He immediately ran into Fernando.
Taking one look at Kevin's determined expression and armed state, Fernando instantly grasped the situation.
"Kevin, go back to bed and rest. I know how you feel, but even if you follow him now, there is nothing you can do for our lord in your condition. Wouldn't it be better to get plenty of rest and focus on your recovery? That way, our lord will be pleased when he returns victorious from the war."
"I am sorry, but I cannot do that," Kevin replied firmly.
Fernando's logical advice meant nothing to him.
"The sole reason for my existence lies with my lord. If he is on the battlefield, I must be there with him. The only time I will ever leave his side is to carry out his orders."
He strode past.
Watching Kevin's retreating back, Fernando scratched his head.
"How on earth am I supposed to stop a guy like that?"
Kevin was famous throughout Dmitry for his sheer, unyielding stubbornness.
Fernando turned his gaze away.
His own purpose was to protect the Dmitry estate. He had no desire to chase down and stop Kevin, who was simply leaving to fulfill his own duty.
* * *
The peace was short-lived.
A few days later, the lookout sentries frantically signaled the alarm as they spotted the imperial army surging toward them from the horizon.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Enemy!"
"The enemy is marching!"
The fortress was instantly thrown into an uproar.
The soldiers took their positions in an orderly fashion, moving exactly as they had been trained. Marquis Vandenberg, the commander of the Western Front, strode up to the battlements, fully armed. He hadn't taken off his armor for a single moment since Dmitry declared war. His senses were honed to a razor's edge, ready to respond to an enemy assault at a moment's notice.
From atop the fortress walls, the enemy vanguard came into clear view.
Seeing the countless numbers flooding the plains, Baron Noel spoke with a grim expression. "...This is much sooner than we anticipated. We expected them to take ample time to neutralize the poison Roman Dmitry used, but it seems Duke Bamford made a swift decision. At this rate, we will fall far short of the time we hoped to secure."
"Our opponent is Duke Bamford," Vandenberg replied. "A battle-hardened veteran instinctively knows better than to give his enemy time to breathe."
Vandenberg and Bamford.
The two commanders had crossed swords on the battlefield several times before.
Duke Bamford was a rugged, fearsome man who possessed an innate understanding of war. In all their multiple encounters, Marquis Vandenberg had never won a single battle against him. This wasn't simply due to the vast disparity in military might between the Empire and the Kingdom. Even in pure strategic warfare, he had never once gained the upper hand against Duke Bamford.
Perhaps that was why a cold chill ran down his spine.
Despite being fully prepared, Vandenberg couldn't shake off a deeply ominous premonition.
Flora Lawrence spoke up.
"Commander, please do not worry too much. We anticipated a total war with the Kronos Empire and have prepared thoroughly. Even if tower master-level mages from the Kronos Empire step forward, there is no way they can breach these walls. They are layered with intricate magic defense formations. As always, we just need to trust Lord Roman Dmitry and do what we can."
"...You are right. Even if the enemy hastens their attack, it doesn't change the preparations we've made."
He gripped his sword tightly.
Roman Dmitry.
He trusted the man implicitly.
In past conflicts, Roman had delivered miraculous results. He might just achieve a victory everyone deemed impossible in this war against Kronos. But the path there would not be easy. Since Roman Dmitry had asked them to risk their lives, Marquis Vandenberg fully intended to lay his life on the line to fulfill his role.
It was then.
From within the ranks of the imperial forces—which had halted at a safe distance—a mysterious figure began to trudge forward.
* * *
It was just a single person.
Squinting at the figure, whose face was obscured by a low-pulled hood, Baron Noel asked, "Could it be a messenger?"
"No. If it were a messenger, they would be carrying a white flag to signal their intent. I don't know what the Kronos Empire is thinking, but that individual is clearly here to execute whatever scheme they have planned."
Marquis Vandenberg shook his head.
If that was the case, only one logical possibility came to mind.
Casting magic from a distance just beyond the reach of conventional arrows was a standard tactic utilized on the battlefield. In fact, during the previous battle with Kronos, Flora Lawrence had used the 'Great Warrior Battle' to lay magic traps exactly where the enemy mages were expected to cast their spells. The result had been a massive success.
Thanks to those traps, they had completely nullified the enemy's magical bombardment. However, this time, they hadn't installed any magic traps, concerned that the enemy would be prepared for the trick.
The robed figure did not hesitate.
Without even bothering to check for magic traps, the figure soon halted at the optimal distance to cast a spell.
At that, Marquis Vandenberg raised his hand.
"Prepare the ballistas."
"Understood!"
Ballistas.
Heavy siege weapons designed for long-range devastation.
While their destructive force was immense, their accuracy was usually lacking. Therefore, Dmitry's forces had intentionally created modified ballistas specifically to disrupt enemy mages. By sacrificing some destructive power, they had drastically increased their accuracy. If they rained bolts down onto the exact spot where the mage stood, the caster would have no choice but to cancel their spell to evade.
"Preparations are complete!"
"I will give the signal shortly."
He kept his hand raised, his eyes locked onto the robed figure. The very second the figure showed signs of gathering mana, Vandenberg dropped his hand like a lightning bolt.
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
Thud.
Th-th-th-th-thud!
Giant bolts tore through the air.
Enchanted with tracking magic that locked onto the target's life force, the massive projectiles rained down upon the robed figure's head in an instant. It was a lethal strike. Seeing that the figure hadn't taken even a single step back, everyone on the wall was absolutely certain that the ballista bolts would turn the mage's fragile body into bloody mush.
But at that exact moment—
Whoosh!
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
A brilliant white barrier materialized, blocking every single bolt.
The figure hadn't chanted or prepared anything; the defensive magic had manifested instantly with a casual wave of the hand.
And then, a voice echoed.
"Puny fools."
Rumble.
Rum-rum-rum-rumble!
The offensive magic manifested.
The robed figure slowly pulled back their hood, revealing a head of stark white hair.
It was an unfamiliar face.
But as unnatural dark clouds violently rolled across the sky, Marquis Vandenberg realized that this being was the true source of his ominous premonition.
It was common knowledge that the 5-Star Realm of aura was equal to the 6th Circle of magic, and the 6-Star Realm was equal to the 7th Circle. The legendary individuals known as the Twelve Swords of the Continent were all in the 6-Star Realm, while tower master-level mages generally belonged to the 7th Circle.
Beyond that lay a realm that pierced the heavens.
It was theorized to exist, but no one alive had ever actually witnessed it.
Now, it was unfolding right before their very eyes.
"Fury of the Heaven."
Rumble.
Rum-rum-rum-rum-rumble!
The white-haired mage unleashed 8th Circle magic.