The First Prince Arrives at Helikel
The northern wind cut like a blade, and with every breath the scent of ice seeped deep into the lungs.
A barren land.
No snow fell, yet the earth lay forever steeped in a dark, cold aura.
Clatter, clatter.
The carriage looked plain enough, but considering the magical functions woven into it, it was anything but ordinary.
When the carriage traveling with more than five hundred escorts came to a halt, the man riding alongside spoke.
“Your Highness, we should reach the Helikel Canyon encampment shortly.”
“It hardly feels as though we have been long away from the palace, yet already we have come this far.”
The carriage window opened, and a blond man looked out.
It was the First Prince of the Empire, Sedrian Aurelian.
The cold wind swept into the carriage, but he paid it no mind as he gazed at the distant Helikel Canyon.
“So that is Helikel Canyon.”
“The wind is bitter. It would be best to close the window…”
“This much is fine, Sir Svein. More than that, I find myself growing expectant.”
“You mean… that soldier named Arteon?”
“Can we truly call him a mere soldier? I understand the Taman who held Belikezel bore six feather tattoos.”
“…”
The Kar Tribe was a people who lived by the absolute rule of the strong.
He knew better than anyone what those feather tattoos meant to them.
“Six, you say… Sir Svein. How many in the Empire do you think could stand against a Kar warrior bearing six tattoos?”
“The Empire has many outstanding commanders, Your Highness. More than ten, I would say.”
“That among so many, only a little over ten… is that not remarkable in itself?”
“It is as you say.”
“Moreover…”
Sedrian’s gaze grew quite serious.
“I hear he has not yet reached adulthood.”
“…”
At that, Svein fell silent.
Even searching the Empire’s history, there was no such person.
What puzzled him, however, was something else.
…I heard that just a year ago he could barely handle aura.
To wield high-purity aura and reach the 6-star realm in a mere year was harder to believe than a newborn climbing a mountain.
I’ll know when I see him myself.
Svein turned his head toward Helikel Canyon.
“Let us proceed. Now that Helikel Canyon is in sight, my heart grows more impatient.”
“Understood.”
At Sedrian’s words, Svein bowed his head slightly.
The carriage window closed.
“Move out.”
With Svein’s command, the escorts and carriage began to move once more.
It was still early dawn, and the cold air of the northern front lingered.
White breath dispersed faintly into the air, and between the barracks temporary tents stood imperfectly here and there.
Full-scale fortification work was soon to begin, yet even in this seemingly peaceful hour a taut tension remained somewhere in the air.
And within that camp, from the earliest hours of dawn, a shout rang out.
“One! Two! Three! Four! One-two-three-four! One-two-three-four!”
The regular cadence cut through the air and vibrated.
On a mud field too crude to call a proper training ground, the members of Silent Spear ran in perfect unison.
“Keep in step! Louder!”
“Yes, sir! One! Two! Three! Four! One-two-three-four! One-two-three-four!”
At Barter’s shout from the side, the unit raised their voices even higher.
And then—
“Ah… for real.”
Soldiers crawling out of the tents with messy hair frowned.
“Those bastards really don’t sleep…?”
“Fuck, the war’s over. What’s with the training?”
“Those bastards have no feelings for the dead either. More than half the unit died, and they’re still training like this?”
Voices mixed with fatigue and discontent.
To them, the Silent Spear unit was nothing more than a pack of weirdos and strange bastards.
But then—
“Just because your mouth is open doesn’t mean you can spout whatever you please.”
“Which bastard…”
A heavy voice came from behind. The soldiers present frowned and turned their heads.
The man who had been sharpening his blade on a whetstone slowly raised his head.
A deep sword scar cut across one cheek.
His gaze was cold, sharp as a blade’s edge.
The soldiers flinched at the sight of him.
It was Deglson.
Deglson continued.
“They trained like they were dying to live—that’s why that many of them survived even that suicidal operation. Did you never think of that?”
“No, what I mean is…!”
“And because they were there, your head is still attached to your body. If the war hadn’t ended, a guy like you would already be a corpse.”
The man set his sword down on the ground with a solid clack and slowly stood. His large frame loomed over the soldiers like a shadow.
His neck and forearms were covered in countless battlefield scars, and his fists carried a pressure that seemed capable of crushing a human skull.
“De-Deglson. We…”
“Shut that mouth.”
At that single word the soldier gulped.
His lips went dry; his fingertips tingled.
The man glared at him for a moment, then clicked his tongue and turned his gaze away.
In the distance, the Silent Spear unit finishing their run and catching their breath came into view.
Even through the dawn mist their expressions were the same as always, their eyes alive.
“Hoo…”
The Silent Spear members who had stopped running exhaled lightly and regulated their breathing.
With every breath white vapor puffed out like cigarette smoke, and steam rose from their bodies in the northern cold.
Yet not one of them showed any sign of hardship; they calmly held their positions.
And at the head of the formation, Arteon stopped walking and turned his gaze north.
“Unit, moment of silence.”
Every member bowed their head.
Comrades who had fought beside them on the battlefield and fallen.
A short but heavy silence for their spirits.
When the wind subsided, Arteon turned and spoke to his unit.
“This training we do now will save our lives on the battlefield. Everyone, give your all as if today’s training is the last.”
“Yes, sir!”
Their eyes were so serious they carried a solemn weight.
In those eyes was resolve instead of fatigue, determination instead of fear.
Barter nodded toward Arteon.
“Don’t worry. I’ll drill them thoroughly.”
“Worry? About what.”
After Arteon’s short reply a subtle silence flowed.
His words held trust and certainty.
Arteon left the unit behind and walked slowly away.
Behind the tents, a quiet space where the wind blew less.
That was his personal training ground.
Arteon closed his eyes.
His heart beat faintly, and mana began to flow.
The energy of mana rising through the blood vessels of his entire body spread faintly.
The mana hole—the new center created in his heart—vibrated.
Then Arteon recalled the memory of that time.
Krelmuk.
The massive wall he ultimately could not overcome.
In the end the war had ended in victory, but in that fight Arteon had lost.
If Isaac had not arrived, he would probably have been buried there.
I must become stronger.
His current self was still lacking.
He had reached the 6-star realm, yet he still could not perfectly handle that power.
He needed to be able to perfectly control even the mana of the mana hole created in his heart.
Sssssssssss.
Soon a faint blue light bloomed from Arteon’s fingertips.
The wind stirred, and dust rose around him.
His heart’s beat pulsed regularly, and in time with it the surrounding mana contracted and expanded again and again.
Fine beads of sweat formed on his face, but his gaze grew deeper and deeper.
A tension as if he stood in the middle of a battlefield swirled around him.
This was not mere training. He was recreating the situation of that day and facing that man once more.
That memory raised Arteon’s concentration another level.
Arteon slowly drew in a breath.
“Hoooooo.”
The mana vibrating in his heart expanded and spread throughout his body.
The heart’s mana, boiling like lava, flowed through the mana circuits to his fingertips and into Iglis.
Woooooom!
Iglis gripped in his hand vibrated.
In an instant, with a feeling as if the air itself subtly twisted, the surrounding wind seemed to stop.
Arteon compressed the mana gathered in Iglis and focused every nerve.
I must be able to perfectly control this power.
It was not over simply because he could create aura.
No…
Rather, from the moment after creating aura, everything seemed even more profound and complex.
It was not simply a matter of releasing aura strongly. Converting large amounts of mana into high-purity aura and making it powerful—that was what mattered.
“Hooo…”
For that, the strength of a body that could endure such power was essential.
Perhaps the reason Arteon had no choice but to lose to Krelmuk was—
“That last strike…”
Even Arteon, who had delivered the blow, could scarcely believe how fierce the power had been.
Truly the strongest strike that could be made by combining high-purity aura and Iglis’s amplification.
But after unleashing that strike, Arteon’s body could not endure.
After blocking just a few attacks, I fainted.
If he could freely use such power, then 6-star…
No.
Perhaps he could even face the Kar Tribe’s greatest warriors who bore seven feather tattoos.
“Haa…”
Yet the closer he drew to the answer, the tighter Arteon’s chest felt.
It was true that his realm had risen because of Ether’s Heart, but from some point onward, Vargas Northern Spearmanship and the growth of his body had stopped.
He possessed the memories of fully inheriting Vargas’s will, yet he could advance no further.
“How can I…”
If this problem was not solved, becoming stronger than he was now would be impossible.
No—he would not even be able to use one hundred percent of the power he currently possessed.
A power that made him faint after a single use could not truly be called his own.
I must find a way to become stronger.
Arteon focused on controlling the aura gathered in Iglis.
But the moment the aura amplified by Iglis exceeded a certain level—
Throb!
“...!”
Arteon’s body shook violently, and the aura gathered in Iglis scattered in an instant.
It vanished only because he had managed to control it; if by any chance it had exploded, the consequences could have been disastrous.
“…Damn.”
The fight with Krelmuk had left Arteon with truly many things.
It had shown him what he needed to fill from now on.
It was simply that the method was so difficult that his head ached.
But then—
“A tremendous power beyond what I had heard.”
“...?!”
At the voice from behind, Arteon startled and spun around.
No matter how focused he had been on training, he had not noticed someone approaching this close?
Arteon’s pupils shook slightly.
But…
“Are you Arteon?”
A middle-aged man asked, looking at him. Arteon nodded.
This man…
Strong.
Arteon unconsciously swallowed dryly.