The Northern Front's First Shockwave
A faint warmth gradually crept in, yet the North still exhaled white smoke with every breath.
On the vast Belikezel Plain.
Scattered snowflakes lingered on the wind, lightly dusting the construction site before vanishing into the air.
“Huu.”
Isaac lifted his crumpled fur hat slightly and let out a small breath.
This damn construction work... It was supposed to be daily, yet the pile of tasks kept mounting like a mountain.
“Captain, why not take a break while you can?”
“Treat it as part of training. Brace your waist when lifting heavy things!”
Now he was no longer just a platoon leader, but a solid one commanding a full thousand-man independent unit.
Only about five hundred men had joined so far, yet Isaac knew that filling numbers alone would not make it an army. So he moved at a measured pace.
Isaac gripped a massive boulder on the ground with both hands.
Then...
“Captain Isaac! No, Major!”
A man barreled forward, spouting frost from split lips and calling out to Isaac.
Metin Karltos, captain of the 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion.
As Metin drew near, heaving for breath, Isaac set the rock down and waved a hand.
“Don’t be formal. Just a few days ago we were smoking together.”
“Still, we have to adjust.”
Metin smiled awkwardly and brushed snow from his fur hat.
“More importantly, have you heard anything?”
“About what?”
Metin glanced around, then lowered his voice.
“About Arteon Lieutenant. He took Svein’s letter of recommendation and headed southwest.”
“Yes. But why does that matter?”
“That... the Empire has sent troops there.”
“...?”
Isaac’s face instantly hardened.
Metin hurried on.
“From what I can tell, the 2nd Prince is deliberately stirring something up... I’m worried that even Arteon Lieutenant might get pulled in. He was close with Arteon Lieutenant, after all.”
The words drew the Silent Spear unit members who had been shoveling to gather.
“Captain, has something happened to Arteon?”
“What are you talking about?”
Isaac fell silent, watching the concerned faces.
Then he asked Metin.
“Can you give me the details? The size of the force that moved there... and who is commanding it.”
“That... According to the company leader, it looks like the knights have moved.”
“Knights?”
Isaac’s eyebrows twitched.
Metin nodded.
“Not ordinary knights. Those... the ones handling dirty operations in secret. Quite a few, around a hundred?”
Thinking an ordinary knight company numbered forty to fifty, this was double the scale.
Yet Isaac’s expression remained strangely calm.
“A hundred-man knight company... That means at least 3-star level.”
“Exactly. The captain’s probably just entering 3-star or already at the peak, capable of using aura.”
Isaac nodded at Metin’s reply.
“Yes, well... I don’t think you need to worry too much. Hey, you lot, get to work.”
He waved dismissively at the gathered men.
Metin looked puzzled. “...You’re not worried? If the princes’ fight drags Arteon in, he won’t be safe.”
“Not safe...? ”
Isaac turned to a Silent Spear soldier.
“What do you think?”
The men shrugged.
“Those bastards are done for.”
“I agree.”
The two who spoke up made Isaac smile faintly.
“So that’s it.”
He answered Metin.
Then...
“If Arteon gets dragged into their mess... I’d rather worry about those bastards.”
“...What?”
“A hundred 3-star men. Hahaha.”
A sinister chuckle escaped Isaac’s lips.
Metin stared, stunned, at the unusual smile.
But Isaac’s face soon turned serious as he formed a hypothesis.
“If they want to capture Arteon... let’s see...”
He pondered briefly.
“At least five thousand...”
“...?”
* * *
In the wide clearing at the middle of the mountain, as darkness fell.
A deafening roar split the air like tearing skin.
Kwaaang!
Golden aura exploded outward like a tidal wave, ripping through the five leading knights in a frenzy of cuts.
The torn flesh of the knights scattered across the sky like minced meat, landing on the still-unscarred square with sprays of blood and meat.
It was an impossible power, as if lightning had struck from the heavens.
Rionhart watched the scene in frozen silence, unable to believe his eyes.
‘...This is impossible.’
Even seeing it firsthand, he could not accept it.
He had expected a youth with depths he could not yet grasp.
But this...
‘At least 5-star. Or perhaps... more?’
No 5-star elite could produce such explosive force.
Yet what shocked him even more was that this was not their full power.
“Controlling the power... as well.”
Every movement of Arteon’s body, the subtle flex of muscles, the flow of aura—all perfectly controlled.
It felt as if he had prepared for multiple enemies.
‘Where did such a monster come from?’
He had come with Svein’s letter.
Surely from the capital, but...
“Experience killing people...”
Was it too natural?
Before Rionhart could finish his thought, Arteon moved again.
Bam!
He hurled himself into the midst of the dark Lacosta Knights.
The knights jolted at the sight of his reckless charge.
“Mad bastard...!”
“He’s using aura! Don’t face him head-on—surround and drain him!”
The Lacosta Knights reacted swiftly, their fanatic tactics at work.
With someone’s order, they split into two flanks. Arteon’s eyes narrowed.
‘Not bad.’
For men who had lingered in the Empire’s peaceful capital, the response was impressively fast.
They also seemed experienced in real combat.
And most importantly...
‘They have fought aura users before.’
A killing intent flickered in Arteon’s eyes.
How many people had they killed for their own greed... and for the Empire’s future?
Dirty prince commands and backroom deals.
These men who had died under the guise of ‘purification.’
Arteon poured all that fury into his spear.
“He’s using a spear! Close in!”
“Get closer—he can’t handle distance!”
The knights pressed forward without mercy, ignoring the loss of lives as they attacked from all sides.
At the moment dozens of blades lunged toward him.
Whirrick!
Arteon folded his spear below his waist.
The instant it spun around him like a pivot...
Kwaaaaaaang!
Aura from Iglis swallowed everything nearby.
In Vargas Northern Spearmanship:
‘Distance... means nothing.’
Arteon’s cold gaze swept the knights still reeling from the shockwave.
They looked utterly stunned.
They had attacked from eight directions at once.
A normal person would have nowhere to react.
“How...”
“Impossible...”
The knights finally staggered to their feet and gripped their swords again.
Yet the nausea from the shockwave could not be relieved.
And Ziorkan, the Lacosta Knights’ captain, spat curses.
“Insane brat...!”
He wanted to rush forward and hack limbs off, but...
“What are you staring at...!”
A swift strike from below made him raise his sword in defense.
Clang!
“Ugh...!”
A moment’s lapse could lead to such danger.
Ziorkan saw the red-haired man blocking his front.
“Some punk...”
Younger than him, yet his sword carried real power.
Moreover...
‘He’s still not perfect, but he’s controlling aura.’
That meant 4-star rank.
Damn it.
Rionhart knew his teaching was outstanding, but he had never expected such monsters under his command.
Especially the one fighting the knights.
“I told you not to look away...!”
Ziorkan’s gaze flicked toward Arteon again.
Whack!
“Gah!”
Kairon’s blade had grazed his thigh.
Ziorkan staggered back.
The cut was not deep, yet in high-rank combat, even small things mattered.
Now...
“...I’ll kill you first, just as you wished.”
This bastard needed to be crushed.
Blue aura surged from Ziorkan’s pitch-black sword.
Kairon’s eyes grew serious.
“...”
He knew the man before him was stronger.
Above all, the experience in his hands was something Kairon still lacked.
But...
“Come.”
He had endured all this grueling training to fill that gap.
Right here, right now...
‘Prove it.’
One thing was certain: surpassing him would make him far stronger than before.
Watching the clash, Rionhart looked bewildered.
“Hah.”
He had been unprepared for the worst-case attack from enemies.
He had even considered dying here, so he had avoided showing weakness.
What path had he walked so far?
What legacy had he left?
And the last one left behind—Kairon—he had prayed he would grow greatly while still alive.
But...
“Has the sky not abandoned him yet?”
Rionhart’s gaze remained fixed on Arteon, who dominated the knights.
Over a hundred men, already more than thirty dead, the rest barely holding on.
How had this youth... reached such heights at such a young age?
“...Impressive.”
But was it just job obsession?
Admiration for Arteon’s prowess was one thing, but an uneasy feeling lingered.
A subtle flaw no one else could see.
Each glimpse stirred deeper unease.
Even when he used aura just now.
‘If the core were just a bit firmer.’
And now it was fine, but with stronger power the spear would tip.
These small things were visible one by one.
Swallow.
Rionhart unconsciously swallowed hard.
‘If these... are all compensated...’
Could he reach the realm no one in imperial history had touched...?
Rionhart’s eyes watching Arteon grew infinitely deep.