Oh? You Blocked It?
“Enemy! The enemy’s here!!”
The sudden ambush sent the bandits roaring from all sides. Creak, crash! Rusty, splintered doors flew open violently, and the narrow clearing filled in an instant with bloodthirsty thugs. They clutched everything from axes with chipped blades to rusted iron swords and iron clubs—crude weapons gripped by killers hardened to slicing and stabbing flesh.
Cael let out a hollow chuckle at the sight.
“Looks like plenty of bugs were hiding out.”
A casual count put them well over fifty. Even in this remote slum on the edge of a ducal territory, so many criminals running wild was stark proof of how rotten the domain’s security had become.
“Eek…?”
Roben involuntarily sucked in a sharp breath at the raw, primal killing intent pouring from the horde. For a green rookie knight who’d only swung wooden swords learning chivalry, 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 his ground—sweat beading on his forehead as he gripped his heavy iron sword tighter, blocking the front as best he could.
But Cael, lounging atop his horse at the rear, reacted entirely differently.
“Tsk tsk. I had high hopes with numbers like that… but it’s all trash.”
“No, young master—their numbers are over fifty!”
Cael clicked his tongue and snorted.
“Not an opponent worth your fear. Third-rate doesn’t even cover it—they’re bottom-feeding scum.”
At Cael’s low assessment, Weger whipped around indignantly.
“Third-rate blades won’t pierce my gut!?”
“Just dodge.”
“……Pardon?”
Cael smirked at Weger’s protest.
“This’ll be perfect for advancing your stagnant martial training. What better practice field than this?”
“Practice…?”
“Aye. Life-or-death drills always build blood and flesh.”
Weger was speechless at his lord’s nonchalance amid the life-threatening chaos. But then:
“Believe in yourselves. You’re the ones I trained personally, after all.”
Cael’s voice carried clearly on the wind to his subordinates’ ears. Just one sentence. Yet strangely, it pushed back the fear gripping them.
All but one.
First steps are always the hardest.
Even against overwhelming odds, mustering the courage for that initial stride. Whether they could take it or not would decide everything ahead. It was something Cael wanted to teach but couldn’t—ultimately, the choice was theirs alone.
Then Weger bellowed.
“Screw it! Let’s do this! If I die fighting here, you’ll at least put up a shiny tombstone for me, right, young master?!”
“Kukuku, worry not, Weger.”
Ella squeezed her eyes shut and lunged first, sword raised high.
“J-just cremate me!! Scatter my ashes in the river—I wanna see lots of places!”
Weger followed with a beastly roar, charging the earth.
“Raaargh!! Whatever!!”
Swept up in their reckless valor, even Roben screamed, drew his sword, and rushed the bandits.
And faster than any human, golden-furred Oliver exploded forward like lightning, plunging straight into the enemy heart.
“Kuhahaha! You idiots! Four of you charging into the jaws of death— I’ll grind you into dog chow!”
The bandit swarm lunged with savage intent, ready to devour them. But from the battle’s outset, the field twisted in ways the bandits never imagined.
Claaang—!
Weger’s heavy iron sword cleaved the air with the essence of the Eight Heavenly True Sword from the Jongnam Sect. The moment it clashed with the iron swords and axes of three blocking bandits, their weapons shattered like rotten branches, scattering everywhere.
“Wh-what the hell!? Why’d it break!!”
“Kuhahaha!! That’s right, you bastards! Bandit scum don’t get good gear!! You’re all dead!!”
Cael laughed at the sight.
A longsword suits him perfectly, as expected.
The reason Weger could smash their weapons: he struck with the longsword’s profound energy. Their gear couldn’t withstand his heavier blade.
“Gaaah!”
Unable to block without weapons, the bandits split in two and flew back. The massive longsword’s power didn’t just cleave them—it hurled their bodies through the air.
“Y-you monster!!”
Two bandits sneaked into Weger’s blind spot from behind, raising swords silently. The novice Weger missed them, focused on the front.
Just as a blade neared his back—
Thwip—!
An invisible attack from nowhere pierced the throat of the bandit targeting his rear.
“Gurk…”
Weger hadn’t even noticed the threat behind him.
Tsk tsk, still a long way to go. Getting that excited so easily…
Whenever anyone fell into danger, an unseen energy struck enemies in blind spots. He looked leisurely atop his horse, but Cael’s fingers flicked subtly, firing Demon Soul Bullets—the Heavenly Demon’s finger technique—to protect his men.
On the battlefield’s other flank, Ella danced brilliantly. The Plum Blossom Jade Maiden Sword, essence of the Hwasan Sect. With each light step, dozens of sword shadows bloomed like heat haze from her blade tip, blinding foes.
“Gaaah! What the—how many swords does this bitch have!?”
“F-fakes!… Gurk!”
Dazed by the dazzling sword paths, bandits flailed as Ella’s real blade slit throats and severed tendons.
Ella’s actually doing well. A bit more practice, and she’ll bloom true plum blossoms.
But the most astonishing performer wasn’t human.
“Grrr… Woof!!”
A golden blur ravaged the bandits. Oliver, awakened to the Jade Wolf Fang of the Southern Beast Palace. His agility far surpassed any normal dog. 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 rocks!!”
“Mercy! My leg! Gaaah!!”
Oliver dove into sword-wielding foes like lightning, snapping wrists with iron jaws before ripping thighs and slamming them down. No livestock—this was demonic beast ferocity.
Oliver’s talent is top-tier. He’s already grasped the Jade Wolf Fang’s true intent.
Cael nodded in satisfaction.
Meanwhile, amid the chaos, Roben couldn’t believe his eyes. He panted, barely fending off two or three crude-armed bandits, drenched in sweat. His known swordsmanship was full of gaps in real mud-slinging brawls—too fragile.
Shoving one back, he caught his breath and looked around. He nearly fainted.
Impossible… what the hell is happening!?
He was the lowest in the Blue Wolf Knights, sure, but a formal knight forged in harsh training. How could a perimeter guard scrub and a cooking maid outclass him, massacring dozens? And that rampaging furball—what was it? Tearing and tossing the tenth bandit already, defying all human sense.
Then Cael’s lazy voice drifted from horseback.
“Tsk tsk. Three well-trained folks worse than a beast. Useless like this. Back home, bone-shattering hell training awaits. Steel yourselves.”
Aimed at Weger and Ella, but Roben’s heart pounded wildly.
Hell training…? That monstrous swordplay came from the young master!? If I beg him, could I learn that miracle too?
Terror in Roben’s eyes turned to burning desire and anticipation.
Thus, over fifty bandits scattered like autumn leaves before Cael’s overwhelming prowess, the dirt turning to a blood sea.
Thud—!
“Kekeke. Impressive. Turning my fifty men into meat lumps so fast.”
The largest shack’s door exploded inward. A bearish giant emerged, half his face buried in shaggy beard. In his grip: a double-headed axe the size of a torso.
Roben blanched and staggered back at the sight.
“R-Red Beard Cardor!!”
Panting Weger slung his sword over his shoulder, tilting his head.
“Red beard? Nah, it’s brown. Who’s he? You know him?”
Roben gulped.
“Th-this area’s infamous killer! One of Legnum’s pillars! His moniker’s from… dipping his beard in victims’ blood after kills!”
Weger grimaced and spat.
“Pah! What kinda childish crap.”
Roben jumped, yelling.
“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.
A powerhouse beyond his current level.
Shit, charged in all hyped… am I dying here? Young master! What about him!?
Cold sweat poured down Weger’s spine. He’d burned most stamina and aura in the last fight. Facing an Expert now was suicide.
But Cael, watching from horseback, hadn’t dismounted—or even glanced at Cardor.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Panting like that after fifty small fry? Took forever too. Weger, back to stamina basics.”
Weger yelled desperately.
“Y-young master! No time for lectures! Run! We’ll hold him!!”
Cael cocked his head.
“Run? Why would I?”
“H-he’s an Expert!! A real aura-spewing monster!!”
Weger bellowed, veins bulging, but Cael showed no flicker of unease.
“So? What of it.”
His absurd calm left Weger and Ella speechless.
Then Cardor, axe on shoulder, bared yellow teeth in a filthy grin.
“Kuhuhuhu. Greenhouse noble brat, huh? Still blind to reality. Fine by me—less work. Your men are spent, legs jelly. Journey ends here, pup.”
Crimson aura billowed from Cardor like haze. Suffocating menace crashed over them.
“Kuhahaha! Don’t worry—that pretty maid gets special treatment. She’ll have an unforgettable ride!”
Cardor leered at Ella, licking his lips—
Thwip—!
Cael’s finger flicked minutely from horseback. The formless Demon Soul Bullet tore air as always.
But this time—
BOOMMM—!!
A dull, massive clash like metal on metal thundered. Cardor had raised his huge axe’s flat like a shield, blocking perfectly. The bullet sparked off the aura-clad blade, ricocheting away.
Cardor stepped out smirking.
“Kuhuhuhu. Think I was just watching? Caught you flicking darts from that horse ages ago. Toys like that don’t touch a Sword Expert’s aura.”
Cael, far from flustered, curled his lips in a long smile.
“Oh? You blocked it?”