The Fall of the Taman
Clang! Clang clang! Clash-clang!
The ring of clashing weapons rose together with the screams.
Just how, in what instant, had things come to this?
Kereilkarun sucked in a ragged breath, as if denying the reality before his eyes.
An unbelievable sight.
How had they forced their way through that frozen canyon path and reached this place?
What in the world had the warriors standing watch been doing…!
He ground his teeth.
Yet the situation did not improve.
The Imperial soldiers who had broken in were locked in savage combat with his warriors, and at the heart of it all a single man stood looking straight at him.
Rumble—rumble—rumble—rumble!
The pressure pouring from the man’s body made the snow piled on the ground seem to tremble.
Even at a glance, he was at least Kereilkarun’s equal.
No… perhaps more.
How many monsters like that does the Empire even have…?
The young-faced soldier cradling the infant and holding the warriors at bay had already been startling enough, but the middle-aged soldier before him carried a presence far more tightly reined in than expected.
Kereilkarun lifted his axe and fixed his gaze on the man. In that very moment—
“Taman! You must leave this place at once! The balance is collapsing!”
Baulkuran’s urgent cry as he rushed forward sent a chill racing through Kereilkarun’s mind.
He tightened his grip on the axe haft until his knuckles whitened.
Helikel Canyon had fallen, and even Elbarphiel Lake had been seized by the Imperial bastards.
If Aicled—the link between them—fell as well…
It would be the same as opening the northern roads to the Empire.
A place that absolutely had to be held.
That was why he himself had remained here.
Kereilkarun spoke in a low voice.
“…Even if we run, where do you think we can go?”
“Taman…!”
“We failed not only to hold this place, but even to trigger an avalanche in the canyon pass and buy time. Do you think those above will forgive me for that?”
Had they bought time with an avalanche, they could have sent for reinforcements and summoned more warriors in the interval.
But…
Clang! Clang! Thud!
“Gyaaaaaaah!”
“Uwaaaaaah!”
The sounds rising from every direction made Kereilkarun’s eyes narrow.
These intruders, at the very least… must be stopped no matter what.
If they could not be stopped, neither the warriors here nor even his own life could be guaranteed.
Yet Lucael, watching him, raised his sword and took a single step forward.
Even through the frost-edged blizzard his stride never faltered.
Lucael spoke.
“A warrior of the Kar Tribe, scheming like a rat.”
“What did you say?”
“Resist as fiercely as you can. Only then might you console the spirits of the soldiers who died in this place over such a long time.”
Lucael drew up his mana.
In moments his power flooded every limb, reinforcing his body, and—
Woooooom!
—a vivid blue aura settled clearly along his blade.
Lucael’s eyes flashed sharp as ice.
“I won’t kill you easily.”
“…”
At that sight Kereilkarun knew with certainty.
There would be no avoiding a decisive fight with this man.
“I don’t much care for the way you act as if you’ve already won.”
Kereilkarun himself was a tribal commander-class warrior bearing four feather tattoos.
He had simply never needed to enter battle directly—never because he was weak.
He met Lucael’s gaze squarely and spoke to Baulkuran beside him.
“Even if the Empire’s follow-up forces force us to withdraw, every last one of these here must die.”
“Taman.”
“Send a messenger north at once and call for reinforcements. Now that Helikel Canyon and Elbarphiel Lake have fallen, this place above all cannot be yielded.”
His pupils had already stained blood-red.
He was forcing so much mana through his body that the strain was beginning to show.
The bearing of a warrior who had already accepted death.
Baulkuran nodded at the sight.
“…I will obey.”
With that, Baulkuran flung himself toward the fighting.
Kereilkarun turned back to Lucael.
“You told me to resist fiercely? I’ll throw those words straight back at you. If you want this land… thrash about all you like. In the end you’ll only become another corpse like the comrades who died before you.”
Every single blow of Kereilkarun’s was monstrously heavy.
He could not gauge the opponent’s exact realm, yet—
One strike will finish it anyway.
His full-powered blow carried destructive force equal to what the Imperials called five-star or higher.
“Come.”
Boom!
The word left Kereilkarun’s mouth and Lucael’s form vanished amid a thunderous roar.
In the same instant—
Crash!
—Kereilkarun hoisted his axe high and charged across the battlefield like a living avalanche.
The enemy moved at a speed almost too fast for the eye to follow, yet senses pushed to their absolute limit locked onto that motion with perfect clarity.
“Hraaaaaaah!”
With the shout his axe swept down in a savage arc from above.
The blade, blazing with crimson aura, streaked straight for Lucael’s neck.
But—
“Hup!”
Swaaaaaash!
Lucael brought his sword up from below and met the strike head-on.
Axe and sword collided—
KRAAAAAAAAAANG!
—and a colossal explosion of sound shook the entire canyon.
The shockwave shattered nearby boulders and hurled the fragments skyward; the ice beneath their feet spider-webbed and cracked.
“Hraaaaaaaaaah!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Kereilkarun howled like a beast and hammered his axe down in a relentless barrage, determined to crush this arrogant Imperial soldier before the man could even dodge.
Swaash!
The axe’s path split the empty air; each impact carried weight enough to shake the earth.
Yet—
“…”
Lucael never wavered.
He watched with eyes colder than the northern chill itself, catching and turning every blow—as though he intended simply to endure and absorb everything Kereilkarun poured out.
And then—
“Is that all?”
“…!”
Those three quiet words made Kereilkarun’s pupils shudder violently.
He had been pouring every last scrap of his strength into each strike.
Th-this can’t be…!
It was impossible.
In pure offensive power he did not yield even to five-feather warriors—power that had long since transcended human limits, power capable of striking the canyon wall hard enough to trigger an avalanche with a single blow.
“Don’t you dare act so relaxed, you Imperial dog!”
KRAAAAAAAAAANG!
A deafening detonation made the whole canyon tremble.
The impact was so great that both the Kar warriors and the Imperial special-unit soldiers locked in combat all around turned their heads.
But—
“…I’ll give you this much. Your raw striking power is something you can take pride in.”
Lucael spoke while regulating his breath.
Kereilkarun’s eyes shook even harder.
“H-how…?”
It had been a killing blow—one he had believed would end everything.
Yet the man had simply guided the force down into the ground as if it were nothing?
Kereilkarun stared at his own axe buried in the ice, then lifted his head to look at Lucael.
Those ice-cold eyes met his.
“If that was everything you had to show… then die.”
And the instant Lucael’s blade fell toward his head—
Slash!
—Kereilkarun’s world began to drown in darkness.
It was a truly strange thing.
The little one who had not made a single sound amid life-and-death struggle now—
“Waaah! Waaah!”
—suddenly burst into fierce crying, announcing his presence to the world.
Kar warriors ringed them on every side.
Yet two figures stood firm, fierce eyes locked on the enemy, refusing to yield a step.
Iryakle. Pweril.
The pair had already taken position before and behind Arteon, raking their sharp claws through every Kar warrior who charged them.
Slash!
“Gyaaaaaaah!”
“You traitorous bastards!”
The Kar, eyes wild with frenzy, hurled themselves forward, but the two did not give them a single pace of ground.
“…”
Arteon looked down at the infant crying in his arms.
He had never held a child in his previous life, nor in this one, yet…
So this is what it means to be a parent.
Watching them fight with such desperate intensity, Arteon found a faint smile rising unbidden to his lips.
And then—
“Iryakle, Pweril. That’s enough. Fall back.”
Arteon raised his spear and stepped toward Iryakle.
Iryakle flinched and looked at him.
“Stand down. Fighting in that condition is reckless.”
They had been protecting both Arteon—who could barely use his left arm after the shoulder wound—and the child at the same time.
But—
“Sorry, but if this keeps up our side’s going to start taking real losses.”
Arteon was already surveying the battlefield with cold clarity.
Lucael was facing the enemy commander, yet the clash between the remaining special-unit soldiers and the Kar warriors was far more evenly matched than expected.
They were simply outnumbered.
Iryakle and Pweril’s arrival had helped, yet—
They’re not quite used to fighting head-on instead of from ambush.
Subtle misalignments kept showing.
Arteon carefully handed the infant to Iryakle.
“Fall back. I’ve rested enough.”
Thanks to the time they had bought him, he had fully gathered and refined his mana.
Iryakle accepted the child almost without thinking as Arteon stepped forward. Gratitude and apology mixed on his face as he looked at the younger man.
Pweril, who had come up beside them, regarded Arteon as well.
“Your wound looks severe… can you even fight?”
“Of course. Injuries like this are just daily luggage on a battlefield.”
Arteon’s eyes had settled into calm, quiet resolve.
At last…
Aicled… is ours.
When this fight ended, the Empire would, for the first time in its history, hold all three of the North’s key strongholds.
Supply lines would move far more swiftly, and upon that foundation they would be able to push still deeper into the North.
“Huu.”
Arteon exhaled softly and looked at the Kar warriors still trying to overwhelm them with numbers.
They outnumbered the Imperials by a good three to one or more, yet the balance had remained remarkably even.
Until—
Swish!
—the moment Arteon entered the fray, that balance shattered completely.
A 4-Star.
The power of a warrior who could freely wield aura was easily equal to an entire company.
Slash!
Arteon’s spear was merciless.
He had already faced dozens of Kar alone before; cutting them down one or two at a time while they were scattered was nothing.
And at that sight—
“Mon… monster.”
—Baulkuran, still locked in combat with Isaac, went pale as the balance tipped with terrifying speed.
But just then—
“The enemy commander is deaaaaaad!”
Someone’s great shout turned every gaze on the field toward a single point.
Kereilkarun’s corpse lay on the ground, head severed from its body.
The death of the Taman who had so powerfully led the Kar snapped their will in an instant.
Despair crashed down upon their shoulders.
And then—
“Leave not a single one alive. Wipe them all out.”
Lucael showed no mercy.
Prisoners were unnecessary, and far too many of their comrades had already died at these hands.
The moment the order fell, the Imperial special-unit soldiers began to slaughter them without quarter.
And at the heart of it all—
“…”
—Lucael watched Arteon, who was still sweeping his spear through the enemy ranks.