Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: The Commander's Retreat
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To have all of Libertha join the battle, minimizing any remnants. That was the core of this decisive engagement.
Watching them swarm in like a wildfire, Loan felt a sense of relief, having largely achieved his goal.
‘I have to end it here.’
His turquoise eyes scanned the dry air. A southern wind carried clouds of dust.
Masses of dark and bright light filling the vast plains surged toward him from both front and back.
Who would arrive first?
The outcome Loan desired was clear.
Fwoosh—
A mass of mana left his palm, becoming a nucleus from which flames erupted explosively.
In an instant, a wall of surging flames shot up toward the sky, spreading to both sides.
Unsatisfied, he layered it again and again.
The multi-layered barrier of fire resembled a tidal wave of flames, poised to crash down.
Through the crimson haze, Loan read the panicked movements of the Libertha forces.
There would be no mercy.
The flames, which had swelled with mana, surged forward in search of fuel for their combustion, devouring them.
Shouts and screams met the wave of fire and swirled into the distance.
In its wake, only black ash remained.
The flames, having exhausted their mana all at once, soon vanished, but it was enough to slow the enemy's advance.
Thus, the ones who reached Loan first were welcome faces.
"You've done the impossible."
The one who clapped his shoulder and ran past was Oscar.
The sunlight reflecting off his massive claymore was dazzling. The greatsword, imbued with a surging aura, tore through their bodies.
"Rest for a moment."
The one who ruffled Loan's hair before vanishing into the distance was Sienna.
Her two longswords wove through the enemy ranks, creating an elegant, shimmering haze.
"Trying to be the cool one all by yourself, huh?"
Lucas grumbled as he charged forward.
He wanted to look good for his father, for Sienna, and even for Enji.
At times like these, Lucas was incredibly strong.
Even without imbuing his blade with aura, countless enemies were cleaved in two. It was monstrous strength.
"Loan."
Hans, who had approached at some point, spoke calmly.
"Your flame magic is excessively tyrannical, but that final blow I witnessed during our duel was moving. Enough to make me want to recommend you for our order."
His clear voice faded into the distance in an instant.
Hans, the Commander of the Faith Division, advanced several steps ahead of his members, deep into the enemy's lines.
Both of his fists were glowing with a light so white it was almost blue.
Within the mob he plunged into, the bodies of Libertha members shot up and fell like waves.
"It's strange. The more I see you, the more I experience your abilities, the more you remind me of someone."
The cryptic murmur from behind him belonged to Duke Varcino.
Their eyes met as he passed by.
His refreshing face, reminiscent of the southern sun, held a complicated expression.
"When we return, you and I will have a talk. But first, after we win on this battlefield you've opened for us."
Having conveyed his thoughts directly to Loan, he dashed forward with all his might, despite his vassals' attempts to stop him.
As he did, the duke drew his sword.
‘Huh?’
The moment he noticed a very familiar crest engraved on the flat of the longsword.
The duke's strike, carrying immense pressure, split the air before him.
A brilliant flash of light shot forward, followed by a disorienting gale from the blade that made him stagger.
It was a fearsome attack, powerful enough to make him instantly forget the cryptic words and his curiosity about the crest on the sword.
From that single move alone, Loan could tell he was on a similar level to Commander Adrian.
‘Still out of my reach.’
But this was no time to stand around in awe.
Two duels, followed by a flame spell that had dealt massive damage.
From his allies' perspective, he had more than done his part, but this was a battlefield where one side's annihilation was the price of defeat.
‘I've rested enough.’
The one who had drawn the most attention, provoked the most outrage, and become the target of the most people was Loan himself.
From fledglings who wanted to test their strength to masters who sought to display their true skill.
Dozens who had evaded the allies' attacks swarmed him from all sides.
He was slowly getting used to fighting against multiple opponents.
Whooong—
He established his Domain.
Dust scattered around Loan, forming concentric circles.
Those who had witnessed the immense flames moments ago hesitated. Since they wouldn't come to him, Loan went to them and delivered a blow.
A fist imbued with the Convection that Hans had coveted slammed into one man's abdomen.
A precise point, found through the Narrow Path.
"Keuk!"
He spun and shattered the jaw of another man with wide, startled eyes, and in that same moment, swords rained down on him.
"Die!"
The throats of the men spouting such clichés were pierced by Sheville.
It no longer held an aura, but in the dusty wind, the small shards of the sword, flying from unknown directions, were lethal weapons, difficult to avoid.
Screams erupted from all sides. Here, too, there was no mercy.
"Be careful! He uses strange tricks."
He hadn't used any other magic, mindful of his mana consumption, yet his enemies, having already witnessed his powerful spell, couldn't perform at their best.
The occasional clouds of dust and the quality of the air that strangely manipulated their senses were deeply unsettling.
"What's happening?"
And without fail, Loan's fist would find a vital point.
If they managed to dodge his fist, Sheville would fly out from the dust.
On the chaotic battlefield, Loan was not alone. With the twelve pieces of Sheville, they were thirteen.
Meanwhile, the number of enemies, once in the dozens, was steadily dwindling.
"You monster..."
After mercilessly striking down an enemy who was trying to retreat, Loan ran toward a place he'd had in mind for a while.
The horde of ghouls falling helplessly at both ends of the Libertha line.
Hans and the members of the Faith Division were dealing with them.
For the most part, Hans was taking them down alone, while his members restrained them.
Hans's martial prowess was astonishing, but what truly amazed Loan was that they were undertaking such a troublesome task.
"Ah..."
They remembered his assurance that he wanted to cure the ghouls, that there must be a way to purify them.
On a battlefield where a fierce struggle was taking place, their consideration felt all the more precious.
He wanted to express his gratitude.
Loan rushed toward Hans, who had just punched a large hole through a dark priest's chest.
But the words that urgently burst from Loan's mouth were not of thanks.
"Commander! Look out!"
KABOOM—!
With a deafening roar, Hans's body was sent flying backward.
If Loan hadn't supported his back with Convection, the impact would have been severe, but even so.
"Guhk..."
He dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.
A deep gash was carved into the knuckle duster on his fist.
Hans spat out a mouthful of blood and barely managed to say,
"Everyone, fall back."
A single sword strike could make a Union Commander come to such a decision?
Loan knew instantly who his opponent was.
The Grand Commander of Libertha, Franco.
The peerless master who was said to have escaped the combined attack of four Commanders stood before him.
Even Loan's eyes wavered slightly as he looked at the man.
His posture was flawless, despite having traversed the battlefield. Not a speck of dust, let alone a drop of blood, stained his clothes.
Only his white hair swayed in the rising, turbid mana.
He was on a different level from anyone he had faced so far.
He spoke, the tip of his sword lowered.
"I had business with that brat. It's your fault for getting in the way, Hans."
"I can't so easily hand over the future of the Union."
Hans pushed himself up and corrected his stance.
A blue haze seemed to burn from his fists, enveloping his entire body.
Was it because his resolve was so palpable?
Franco asked back, his expression intrigued.
"The future of the Union? A fitting assessment, indeed. All the more reason to eliminate him here."
"And you must?"
"The outcome is clear. Shouldn't I at least salvage something before I leave?"
How could words tantamount to admitting defeat fall so easily from the Grand Commander's lips?
Loan understood the reason from his next words.
"You've prepared well. I didn't expect the Harmony Division to strike from the rear. A tactic befitting weak and cowardly mongrels."
If the Honor Division was a group of mages who annihilated their opponents with powerful magic, the Harmony Division was a group of knights armed in heavy plate.
A military force specializing in destruction. It was said that not even the souls of their enemies remained where they passed.
With the Harmony Division arriving when they were already being pushed back, the tide of battle had completely turned.
And if the Honor Division arrived as well, their complete annihilation would no longer be a vague hope.
The thought spurred him to provocation.
"Now that you're at a disadvantage, you're planning to run away again. Aren't you the coward?"
At Loan's words, one of Franco's eyebrows shot up.
"What did you say?"
"I heard. You fled from four Commanders."
Loan laced his next words with a sneer and sent them to Franco on a wave of mana.
"You've done a fine job dressing up the name 'coward who fled' with strength. A coward who abandons his comrades and runs. That's your true nature."
There was nothing Loan did better than imbuing his voice with emotion.
The aura of Franco, who had seemed composed all this time, changed in an instant.
As if genuinely enraged, the downward-pointed sword became shrouded in turbid mana.
But he couldn't launch an attack on either Hans or Loan.
Franco suddenly spun around and swung his sword upward.
CLAAAANG—!
The aftershock from the clash of auras kicked up a thick cloud of dust.
Through the hazy view, a massive claymore had been pushed down to around Franco's shoulder.
"I finally get to see your rat-like face."
"Greatsword. Mustache. You must be Oscar."
Having introduced themselves, the two began to clash swords.
The moment Oscar's vigorous strikes and Franco's swift sword met, the seething mana shattered from the impacts.
An exchange that inspired awe.
Every movement of the sword, the posture supporting it, and the flow of mana were all consistently beautiful.
Franco might have the upper hand in terms of mana, but in terms of swordsmanship, Oscar was not being pushed back at all.
The world of the strong, which could not be judged by mana density alone.
‘The Vice Commander... he was much stronger than I thought.’
How on earth did I manage to singe his mustache?
While Loan was startled, Franco's expression tightened several times.
The Vice Commander of the Faith Division. Yet he was in no way inferior to the Commanders he had faced.
"This one must also be eliminated..."
Franco muttered under his breath and drew out even more mana.
His sharpened swordplay dug in between the greatsword's continuous strikes.
Slice-
He had aimed for the neck, but the tip of his sword only grazed one of Oscar's ears. A subtle opening appeared in the exchange. Into it, a figure leaped.
Thwack-!
Hans's fist slammed into Franco's abdomen, but it lacked the power to break through the aura shield surrounding his body.
"Two of you. Come at me together."
After Franco's mutter, the longsword, greatsword, and fists mingled.
Loan watched the three-way battle intently from start to finish. With both his eyes and his mind's eye. He observed the flow of mana, the swordsmanship, and the techniques of the fists.
Oscar's swordsmanship, which he had always watched, was finally being organized neatly in his mind.
To the point where he could predict what kind of move, what kind of strike would come next.
Once he could read one, he could now see the other two.
All of it—Franco's full-powered swordsmanship and Hans's movements.
Once he understood, the exchange between the three, which had seemed improvisational, reckless, and complex, felt like a coordinated dance.
The moment he read Franco's impatience and frustration within it.
Loan's fingertips pointed at Franco.
He aimed for a single point—his opponent's neck—and along the one path that would reach it, he condensed Convection and channeled it into Sheville.
He had poured all his mana into a single sword fragment.
He didn't think about the consequences.
Shwiiiiik-
The moment the streak of light grazed past the gleaming claymore, passed through the trajectory of Hans's extended fist, and shot toward Franco.
BOOM—!
With the sound, Franco kicked off the ground and shot into the air.
Soon, his body seemed to stretch out into the distance like a beam of light.
Leaving behind afterimages, Franco fled the battlefield.
A sudden escape.
With a piece of Sheville embedded in one of his eyeballs.