Blocked?
“Enemies! The enemy’s here!!”
The sudden ambush sent the bandits bursting out from all sides, howling in fury. Creak, crash! Rusty, splintered doors flew open violently, and the narrow clearing was instantly swamped by a black tide of bloodthirsty thugs. They clutched an assortment of brutal weapons—from axes with chipped blades to rusted iron swords and iron clubs. The air reeked of the raw, killer instinct unique to seasoned cutthroats.
Kael let out a hollow chuckle at the sight.
“Quite a horde of vermin skulking about.”
A casual count put their numbers well over fifty. Even for an outlying slum in a ducal territory, this many criminals running rampant was stark proof of how rotten the domain’s security had become.
“Eek…?”
Roben couldn’t help sucking in a sharp breath at the primal killing intent pouring off the massive mob. To a greenhorn squire who’d only swung wooden swords while learning knightly codes, the pressure from fifty real murderers charging to kill was beyond imagination. His legs began to tremble uncontrollably.
Ella had gone pale as a ghost. Only Weger, with his guard background, managed to hold the line—sweat beading on his forehead, grip tightening on his hefty iron sword as he planted himself out front.
But Kael, lounging atop his horse at the rear, couldn’t have been more nonchalant.
“Tsk tsk, a decent number had me hopeful… but it’s all trash.”
“Young master, there’s over fifty of ‘em!”
Kael clicked his tongue with a scoff.
“Not an opponent worth your fear. Third-rate? Pah—they don’t even qualify as that. Just gutter scum.”
Weger whipped around, indignant at Kael’s low assessment.
“Third-rate blades won’t pierce my gut!?”
“Dodge them.”
“……Pardon?”
Kael’s lips curled into a smirk at Weger’s protest.
“This’ll be a fine chance for your stagnant training to make a breakthrough. What better practice field than this?”
“Practice…?”
“Aye. Life-or-death drills always build blood and flesh.”
Weger was speechless at his lord’s breezy talk of training amid a fight for their lives. But then—
“Trust in yourselves. You’re the ones I trained personally, after all.”
Kael’s voice rode the wind, clear in his subordinates’ ears. Just one sentence. Yet somehow, it shoved the terror right out of them.
All but one.
The first step’s always the hardest.
Even against overwhelming odds, mustering the guts for that initial stride. Whether they could or not would decide everything ahead. It was something Kael could inspire but never teach outright. The choice was theirs alone.
That’s when Weger bellowed.
“Screw it! Let’s do this! If I die here, young master, you’ll at least put up a shiny tombstone, right!?”
“Kukuku, worry not, Weger.”
Ella squeezed her eyes shut, raised her sword first, and charged.
“J-just cremate me!! Scatter my ashes in the river—I wanna see lots of places!”
Weger followed with a beastly roar, stomping the earth into a sprint.
“Raaargh!! Whatever!!”
Swept up in their reckless valor, even Roben screamed, drew his sword, and plunged into the fray. And faster than any human—golden fur flashing—Oliver rocketed ahead like lightning, straight into the bandits’ heart.
“Krahaha! Fools! Four of you charging to your doom? I’ll grind you into dog chow!”
The bandit horde lunged with savage bloodlust, ready to devour them. But the battle’s tide turned bizarrely against their expectations from the very first clash.
Kaaang—!
Weger’s heavy iron sword, infused with the essence of the Jongnam Sect’s Palcheonjin Sword, cleaved the air in a massive arc. The instant it met the blades and axes of three blocking bandits, their weapons shattered like rotten twigs, spraying shards everywhere.
“Wh-what the hell!? Why’d it break!!”
“Krahaha! That’s right, you bastards! Bandit trash wouldn’t have decent gear!! You’re done for!!”
Kael grinned at the sight.
A longsword suits him perfectly.
The reason Weger could smash their weapons? He’d struck with the longsword’s profound energy. Their gear couldn’t withstand a blade heavier than itself.
“Gaaargh!”
Unable to block, the bandits were bisected and hurled away. The longsword’s might didn’t just cleave them—it flung their bodies through the air.
“Y-you monster!!”
Two more sneaked up on Weger’s blind spot from behind, raising their swords silently. The rookie didn’t notice, focused on the front. Just as their blades arced down—
Pfshk—!
An invisible strike from nowhere pierced the attackers’ throats dead-on.
“Gurk…”
Weger hadn’t even realized he’d been targeted.
Tsk tsk, still green. Getting that heated so easily…
Whenever danger loomed, an unseen force sniped blind-spot foes. Kael looked like he was just spectating lazily from horseback, but his fingers flicked subtly, firing the Heavenly Demon’s finger technique, Mahon Bullet, to shield his men.
Elsewhere, Ella danced a dazzling ballet. The Huashan Sect’s Plum Blossom Jade Maiden Sword in full bloom. With each light step, dozens of sword shadows shimmered like heat haze from her tip, blinding the enemy.
“Gaaah! What the—how many blades does this bitch have!?”
“F-fakes!… Gurk!”
Dazed by the flashy sword paths, the bandits flailed—only for Ella’s real edge to slit throats and sever tendons.
Ella’s actually thriving. A bit more practice, and she’ll bloom true plum blossoms.
But the battlefield’s true shocker was someone else.
“Grrr… Woof!!”
A golden blur ravaged the horde. Oliver, awakened to the Nanman Beast Palace’s Wall Wolf Claw. His agility far surpassed any normal dog’s. Each leap cleared a grown man’s height; his aura-clad paws rent flesh like paper.
“Gaaah!! M-mad dog! How’s a mutt smashing boulders!?”
“Mercy! My leg! Gaaargh!!”
Oliver burrowed into sword-wielding foes like lightning, snapping wrists with iron jaws, then ripping thighs and slamming them down. No livestock here—this was demonic beast ferocity.
Oliver’s talent shines brightest. He’s grasped Wall Wolf Claw’s true intent already.
Kael nodded, pleased.
Meanwhile, amid the chaos, Roben couldn’t believe his eyes. He was panting, barely fending off two or three crude-armed bandits. His trained swordplay felt full of gaps and frail in this muddy brawl. Gasping after shoving one back, he glanced around—and nearly fainted.
Impossible… what the hell’s going on!?
Sure, he was the lowliest in the Blue Wolf Knights of a ducal house, but he was still a full-fledged knight from grueling drills. How were an ex-perimeter guard and a cooking maid outclassing him, massacring dozens? And that berserk furball—what was it? That thing tossing its tenth bandit skyward defied human reason.
Then Kael’s lazy drawl pierced his ears from horseback.
“Tsk tsk, three well-trained folk worse than a beast. Useless like this. Back at the estate, bone-shattering hell training awaits. Steel yourselves.”
Aimed at Weger and Ella, but Roben’s heart thundered.
Hell training…? That freakish swordplay came from the young master!? B-beg him, and could I learn such miracles?
Terror in Roben’s eyes gave way to burning desire and hope.
Thus the fifty-plus bandits scattered like autumn leaves before Kael’s crew’s overwhelming might, the ground turning to a bloody mire.
Thud—!
“Kekeke. Impressive. Turning my fifty men into meat lumps so quick.”
The largest shack’s door exploded inward. Out stepped a bear of a man, half his face buried in shaggy beard, hefting a double-headed axe the size of a torso.
Roben blanched and staggered back at the sight.
“R-Red Beard Cardor!!”
Weger, catching his breath with sword on shoulder, cocked his head.
“Red Beard? Looks brown to me. Who’s the guy? You know him?”
Roben gulped, frantic.
“Th-this area’s infamous killer! One of Legnum’s core! His moniker’s from… dipping his beard in victims’ blood after slaughter!”
Weger grimaced and spat.
“Ptoo! What kinda childish crap.”
Roben exploded.
“You idiot!! That’s not the point!! He wields aura—a real deal! Sword Expert!!”
“……What?”
Expert. The word hit, Weger’s eyes bulged, grin vanishing. An opponent beyond his current level.
Shit, charged in all gung-ho, but am I dying here? Young master! What about him!?
Cold sweat poured down Weger’s back. The prior fight had drained his stamina and aura. Facing an Expert now was suicide.
But Kael, watching from horseback without dismounting or even glancing, was unmoved.
“Tsk tsk tsk, panting like that after mere fifty small fry? Took you long enough. Weger, back to stamina basics.”
Weger yelled desperately.
“Y-young master! No time for lectures! Run! We’ll hold him!!”
Kael tilted his head.
“Run? Why would I?”
“H-he’s an Expert!! A real aura-spewing monster!!”
Weger’s veins bulged, but Kael’s face showed no ripple.
“So? And?”
His absurd calm left Weger and Ella speechless.
Then Cardor, axe over shoulder, bared yellow teeth in a filthy leer.
“Kehehe. Greenhouse noble brat, huh? Still blind to reality. Fine by me—less work. Your crew’s spent, legs jelly. Journey ends here, pup.”
Crimson aura billowed from Cardor like haze. Suffocating menace crashed over them.
“Krahahaha! Don’t worry—that pretty maid gets special treatment. She’ll have an unforgettable ride!”
Cardor leered at Ella, licking his chops—
Pfshk—!
Kael’s finger flicked minutely from horseback. The formless Mahon Bullet tore through air as always. But this time—
Thuuung—!!
A dull, massive clang like metal on metal boomed. Cardor had raised his huge axe’s flat like a shield, blocking perfectly. The aura-clad blade sparked, deflecting the bullet skyward.
Cardor stepped out from behind, smirking viciously.
“Kehehe. Think I was just watching? Caught you chucking darts from that horse ages ago. Toys like that don’t touch a Sword Expert’s aura.”
Kael, far from rattled, stretched his lips into a long smile.
“Oh? Blocked?”