Where Do You Think You're Running Off To?
BOOM!
An explosion rocked the space between the towering walls of the Wintervalt Barrier. It was the sound of Kailan's Frost Fang clashing head-on with Tarkan's Bone Axe.
"Grah, graaah!"
"Fall back! You're in the lord's way!"
The knights and adventurers watching the duel from atop the barrier staggered back, battered by the fierce gale. Every time the blue aura and pitch-black demonic energy surged outward, the barrier gates cracked and the ground froze over.
Clang! Kang! Chaeng!
Their strikes grazed vital points by a hair's breadth. When Kailan's blue sword energy nicked Tarkan's forearm, the tough hide tore open, spraying dark red blood into the air.
But Tarkan's counterattack was no less vicious. In the instant a black mist clouded Kailan's vision—
Whoosh!
The bone axe hurtled in at terrifying speed, shattering the guard on his left wrist.
"Keh heh heh. Good instincts. I was aiming to sever your wrist clean off."
Tarkan taunted with a grin, even as blood dripped from his wound. But Kailan didn't respond. His icy blue eyes simply tracked Tarkan's next trajectory with dry precision.
Slash! Boom!
As time wore on, gashes large and small multiplied across Tarkan's body, while Kailan remained unscathed. His pristine armor, never before stained by a drop of blood, was dented for the first time.
"Keh heh heh heh! Ha ha ha ha!"
The more blood he shed, the louder Tarkan laughed. The black demonic energy pouring from his massive frame grew thicker and fiercer. Under his relentless pressure, Kailan seemed to yield ground—ever so slightly.
The faces of the adventurers and knights atop the barrier grew paler by the second.
"W-what the...?"
A rookie adventurer fresh from the south gaped, words failing him. He could barely make out the giant's movements. His eyes couldn't follow the axe's swing from start to finish.
One thing was clear: This was martial might beyond human limits.
"G-Gail! That orc Tarkan—he's way more monstrous than we thought! Shouldn't we help His Highness?!"
The rookie swallowed hard, turning to his gold-rank senior.
"Pfft, what're you on about, kid?"
Gail chuckled.
"His Highness losing? How long did you say you've been in the north?"
"...Uh, about a month or two...?"
He shook his head in disbelief.
"Then shut up and watch. It ain't happening."
"...Yes, sir."
Tarkan was undeniably powerful. Stronger than any orc to challenge Wintervalt before him. Anyone but Kailan would've crumbled in one exchange.
Yet no adventurer, no knight atop the barrier doubted the outcome.
Because their lord was Kailan Wintervalt.
Gail was right.
To the untrained eye, it looked like Kailan was barely parrying Tarkan's axe. But he wasn't fighting in earnest.
Tarkan... This one's demonic energy corruption runs deep.
Kailan deflected the onslaught with minimal motion, observing his foe inwardly.
The black mist from Tarkan wasn't aura. It was demonic energy—the lingering remnant of the sealed Demon King. Tarkan had simply picked it up and swallowed it whole.
His homeland was steeped in it, and the weapon in his grip reeked of the Demon King's influence.
Monsters tainted by demonic energy were formidable. The deeper the corruption, the more their flesh transcended limits, turning monstrous.
But all power exacted a price.
The more it erodes you, the weaker you become before solar mana.
Kailan was at ease. He'd never planned to go all-out. Know what happens to a lion hunting a rabbit at full strength? It starves. Energy spent outstrips calories gained.
He had no intention of brawling like a dumb beast. Why waste stamina on swordplay when he could conserve it?
Kailan glanced skyward. Eleanor's artificial sun, launched high, was slowly expanding.
"Kah ha ha ha! Die, human! I'll rip that frail body in one swing!!"
Tarkan swung his axe, deluded into thinking he'd seized the advantage.
Clang!
Dozens of clashes in. Tarkan was lost in the duel, reveling in ecstasy not felt since crushing the last chieftain to unify the orcs. A void had lingered in his chest ever since—no one left to withstand his axe. A luxurious emptiness.
Clang! Claaaaang!
But now it filled. With a single puny human, of all things.
Blood flowed from wounds, frost creeping over his skin. Yet Tarkan laughed harder, spewing demonic energy fiercer still. This joy felt eternal.
Then, a moment came.
...?
Tarkan's brow furrowed faintly. Something nagged.
At first, he dismissed it. But as blows traded, the unease sharpened.
...My eyes sting.
The sun. Its rays poured straight into his face, as if siding with Kailan behind him.
But...
Something's off.
The sun was growing. When he first entered the barrier, it was ordinary. Now? Twice as big. No—three, four times.
Each axe swing brought the illusion of it swelling another inch. And it burned hotter. Skin prickled. Sweat beaded thick on his brow.
Northern orcs weren't weak to heat, but this was beyond. His flesh felt charring.
Boom!
Another clash. Sweat stung his eyes. Grip weakened on the axe haft. Vision narrowed.
Kaaaang!
"...What?!"
His downward strike bounced off too easily—despite his full might.
Tarkan's face twisted in panic.
"N-not bad...! From now on, I'll get serious...!!"
He gnashed his teeth, summoning demonic energy. Futile. It evaporated the instant it left his body.
What... is this?
Only then did Tarkan look up properly—at the sky.
Separate from the western sun: another massive orb, beaming down from above Kailan's head.
"...Sorcery?!"
His gaze snapped to Kailan.
"Using sorcery is cowardly...!! In a sacred duel of chiefs!!"
Kailan just shrugged.
"Wintervalt's got sun even at night. Didn't you know before charging in?"
He advanced slowly, swinging his sword loosely. Unlike his relaxed demeanor, Tarkan strained desperately to block each strike.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Hah...! Hah...! Haah...!"
"You look beat."
"Shut up!"
Under the same sun, their states diverged sharply. Tarkan, reliant on demonic energy, could barely breathe, mind fraying.
Kailan? Untouched.
"Haah...! Haah...! You coward...!!"
Solar mana was warm, seeping gradually into those it touched—like when Eleanor nuzzled his chest in sleep, or he stroked her hair, or they held hands through quiet nights. It had long permeated his depths.
No man in the empire resisted it like Kailan. He felt lighter, pressing the attack.
Damn...! Damn it all!
Amid searing agony, Tarkan realized: This human had never seen him as a peer warrior. Just efficient prey.
"You can back up more? There's a pit dug there."
Kailan barely met his eyes—gazing down indifferently at tiring game.
Each block shoved Tarkan farther back. No room left.
"You arrogant human...! How dare you...!!"
Pride shattered—as orc lord, as warrior. Unendurable.
Ruuuumble!!
The black dragon bone axe erupted in black mist—vast enough to defy even the artificial sun. A black storm swirled around him.
"Th-that aura...!"
"C-can't... breathe...!"
Knights atop the barrier wobbled, collapsing. The gorge filled with malevolent winds.
"Gr... grrr...!!"
From the storm, Tarkan emerged transformed—no longer a mere orc. Crimson horns tore through his forehead, eyes blood-red, a massive scaled tail lashing about.
"..."
Kailan's stoic face twitched for the first time.
"You've fallen fully to the Demon King's service."
"Keh heh heh. I just picked up what fell."
Hundreds of black tentacles sprouted from demonized Tarkan, snaring his subordinate orcs in the pit like serpents.
"Grk...?"
"Ch-Chief...! Why...!"
Demonic energy drained from them into Tarkan. Pssshhh—
Their hulks withered instantly. Muscles shriveled, skin cracked like drought-parched earth.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Orcs toppled one by one.
"...You mad bastard. What the hell are you doing to my workers—no, your own men!!"
Kailan scowled fiercely. Tarkan didn't care. He felt good.
Raised on tainted land, tainted meat, reaching for tainted arms—he'd sold his soul to the Demon King. His talk of seizing warm lands for orc kin? Empty excuses. He just craved to swing his power freely.
"Out of my way, human!"
Tarkan swung the bone axe—not at Kailan, but the artificial sun.
The black slash rocked it. But...
Darkness fears the sun. The sun fears not darkness.
The sun, after a wobble, spat white chains binding Tarkan tight.
Sizzle—
His skin burned where they touched.
Kailan gathered aura into his blade.
"Grk!? Think this petty trick still works!?"
A true chieftain: Tarkan thrashed with monstrous strength, cracking Eleanor's binding spell. It wouldn't hold long—seconds at most.
But that sufficed for a sword master. A split-second strike needed naught else.
"Eleanor."
He murmured low. The artificial sun descended, enveloping him—sucked into his blade.
Frost Fang sheathed not in chill, but heat. Blue aura and radiant solar mana. Ice and flame.
They danced in harmony upon the sword—rejecting nothing.
Husband and wife's power united as one on that blade.
Thud.
Kailan stepped forward.
"HumaAAAAAN!!"
Tarkan raged to snap the chains. Too late.
Slash—
A blade of light carved his chest. The barrier drowned in blinding flash.
"..."
The light faded.
A strange sight: From the bloodied, kneeling giant, black demonic energy seeped out like mist.
Shoooo—
Tarkan's tainted flesh regained its original hue—not the vicious dark green of orcs, but clear, vibrant light green. The color ancients said orcs once bore, before corruption.
Crimson horns crumbled from his brow. Bat wings and black tail ash-scattered on the wind.
From rage-red eyes, the crimson drained to clear amber irises.
At last, as a true orc warrior once more, Tarkan raised his head.
"...Karak. Gur."
His voice, purged of demonic energy, was astonishingly calm.
"Ch-Chief...!"
Elder shaman Gur shrieked, rushing forward. Karak stood frozen, staring.
Tarkan's gaze turned slowly to him.
"I, Chieftain Tarkan..."
His massive chest heaved once, deeply.
"...have been rightfully defeated."
Karak's eyes bulged.
"Ch-Chief...!"
"By the code."
Tarkan's voice echoed softly through the gorge.
"Follow the new chieftain."
"...!!"
"The fate of us Frost Orcs of the North..."
His amber eyes met Kailan's—blue-chilled gaze upon him, the new chieftain.
"...I entrust to you."
"...Chief!!"
Gur's wail echoed through the gorge.
Thud.
The massive form toppled sideways.
Adventurers and knights atop the barrier gaped dumbly.
"...Is it... over?"
"It's over..."
"His Highness... did it...!"
"Long live Wintervalt!!"
The crushing black menace vanished like a lie. Only soft golden afterglow drifted over the fallen giant.
"..."
Kailan sheathed Frost Fang indifferently. The blade, golden mana dispersed, held only its native blue chill.
Orcs knelt one by one, paying homage to their new chieftain.
Then, gazing at fallen Tarkan with his usual blank face, Kailan spoke.
"Sedric. Save this one, no matter what it takes."
...After smashing everything yourself, where do you think you're running off to so casually?