Chapter 460 – Elimination (3)
To damage the constant barrier of the [Immaculate Robe], one must take a direct hit from at least a 5th-tier mid-level elemental magic, and to destroy it entirely, it requires the power of a 5th-tier high-level elemental magic.
This was the result of Cain personally testing the performance of the [Immaculate Robe].
'And yet, it was destroyed far too easily.'
It had only been grazed three times by sword strikes that didn't even contain much power.
Cain furrowed his brow.
Breaking through the barrier, the Mercenary King, who had retreated about twenty steps, placed his sword on one shoulder and slowly walked to the side.
"Judging by your face, you must be surprised that the barrier was destroyed so easily. It's simple logic. I wasn't aiming at you in the first place, I was focusing solely on the barrier."
A mind that does not waver in any situation leads directly to precision at one's fingertips.
Unshakable spirit.
It was the survival technique the Mercenary King had mastered alone on the battlefield.
Taat.
Suddenly, the Mercenary King dashed into the noisy battlefield.
'I cannot let him get away.'
In sieges against the East, the Mercenary King would always charge into the frontlines, shattering the enemy's defensive lines.
Allowing an intrusion into the fortress would be dangerous.
Such a situation did not align at all with the plan of subduing the West's representative and finishing the match with minimal damage.
Cain immediately gave chase.
Using the peculiarity of his special trait, he heightened his mana-senses to their utmost limit, accelerating the speed of
Catching up was instantaneous.
Pinpointing the Mercenary King amidst the crowd, he brought his demonic sword down.
Sun-dong瞬動.
The Mercenary King slipped past by a hair's breadth, then immediately shifted direction and dropped one knee to the ground.
Sliding across, he picked something up beside a mercenary's corpse, and as he spun around.
Shwiik───!
'An arrow?'
A red-aura-wrapped arrowhead grazed past Cain's temple.
"As expected, your senses are extraordinary. Calm, too. The one you took as your master must have been quite the formidable figure. I wonder just how far he taught you."
Among many weapons, the sword is often regarded as the most fundamental.
Once one reaches a certain level, it is versatile in both offense and defense.
Its size and weight also make it convenient to carry.
But that is only from a basic standpoint.
Unless one possesses an innate talent reaching the pinnacle of swordsmanship, it is theoretically more suitable to adapt to various weapons depending on the situation.
At least to withstand chaos from both front and back.
Tak.
This time, the Mercenary King snatched a spear lying on the ground, wielding it in tandem with the dark-colored sword in his right hand.
Not flashy, not elegant.
But every optimal path targeted Cain's openings relentlessly.
Purely practical movements.
As Cain stepped back slightly to familiarize himself with these unfamiliar maneuvers, the Mercenary King shifted his weight forward and hurled the spear with all his strength.
Kwa-du-du-duk!
The blade of mana split the spear in two.
The spearhead and shaft were cleaved perfectly, flying past on either side.
By then, the constant barrier of the [Immaculate Robe] had regenerated.
Cain lowered his gaze.
'Press forward in one strike.'
Quadra Casting.
He exploded compressed air above and to both sides of the Mercenary King, blocking his retreat, then detonated another toward the ground.
Bursting through the rising dust, Cain rammed into the Mercenary King.
The clash reverberated in a shockwave.
The mercenaries of the West, sensing the battle between the strongest of each faction, tactfully drew back, focusing only on the siege.
"Huu."
Three breaths exhaled.
Suddenly pulling the demonic sword inward, Cain unleashed a secret technique.
At the tip of his blade, a sphere of mana erupted, spraying spikes of magic power.
"Hah, this is no magic, it's practically martial art."
The Mercenary King, without hesitation, threw himself down, rolling forcefully across the ground as he slashed diagonally, shielding his body.
Sweat and dirt smeared across him.
On a battlefield where blades crossed, dignity had no place.
Hwoo-uk.
Lowering his upper body to the extreme, the Mercenary King charged. At the same time, he pulled three small flasks from his breast and hurled them high.
Bzzt───!
A blinding flash and a booming explosion robbed the surroundings of sight and sound for a moment.
In that light, three scarlet sword-blades grazed Cain, and once again, the [Immaculate Robe]'s barrier collapsed.
Ka-ga-ga-gak.
Eyes shut, the Mercenary King pressed blades with Cain, speaking.
"That robe's barrier seems to regenerate at roughly four-minute intervals. Honestly, it's damn annoying. Being bound by time is never a pleasant experience. But I can't complain. War was never fair to begin with, was it? Winning is all that matters."
Twisting his lips, he seized Cain's shoulder with his left hand.
The moment he lost the support of both hands, Cain's demonic sword pressed down on the Mercenary King's blade, denting the armor over his trapezius.
Jjeo-eok!
Ignoring the pressure, the Mercenary King leaned his head back and drove a powerful headbutt forward.
"...!"
A throbbing sting at the bridge of the nose.
Cain hardly flinched, but he had expected it.
Kka-deu-deuk.
The Mercenary King didn't stop there, crushing a vial hidden under his tongue. From it, he exhaled a wide cloud of fine sand.
Not poisonous.
If mishandled, he himself could have been poisoned.
It was simply another tool.
"Kuup."
Cain instinctively turned his face aside.
Not missing the chance, the Mercenary King crouched deeply, springing his blade upward with elastic force.
In that instant.
Kwa-du-du-duk!
Cain's leg lashed out, kicking the Mercenary King's torso to deflect the strike, then with his demonic sword he extended a long arc of blade-aura, slashing across the opponent's chest.
Cain stepped back, regaining vision.
The Mercenary King let out a small groan, touching the split seam that now ran straight across his armor.
"In that fleeting instant, you pushed your mana output to its limit? In some ways, your fundamental application exceeds even aura itself.... But apart from that, there's something I don't understand."
He cast his gaze toward the bloody siege raging around them.
"With your ability, you could have massacred these troublesome mercenaries to pressure me. Why didn't you? The West and the North, we're enemies right now. There's no reason to refrain from killing. This land is considered disputed, ownerless territory—no one would condemn you morally."
"..."
Cain longs for heroes.
Thus, even as Rayshen's aide, he felt discomfort in hunting the weak.
So without resentment or hatred toward the West, in a war decided by mutual agreement, could he slaughter them mercilessly?
He had no desire.
If it were absolutely necessary, if it were for Society or for Unia, perhaps—
But right now, the choice was his alone.
Cain raised his demonic sword.
"It is my will."
"Still choosing your means carefully, I see. You are young indeed. But I wonder, once cornered, how you will change."
The Mercenary King bared his teeth.
"Judging by the North's responses so far, you must possess some magic item or artifact for relaying messages from afar. We have the same. That is why the forces sent to the other two fortresses have already halted...."
He pointed overhead.
"I secretly summoned an airfleet."
From the clouds emerged half-revealed hulls.
Medium-class airships, damaged by the East and supposedly under repair, were now approaching.
Judging by their condition, they had only been patched enough to be sent back to the frontlines.
"...Wasn't this supposed to be a ground battle without airships?"
"Deception is an essential element of war. Well, as you can see, I have indeed forced airships into the fray."
The dark sword spun in his hand.
"In any case, about six minutes remain before Derkadil Fortress enters the airships' bombing range. They have the firepower to break through Defensia's barrier, so even the Valiant Fugitives will suffer heavy casualties. If unlucky, Liam Arein may die as well. So, what will you do?"
Cain's role had not changed.
"Within that time, I will defeat you and end this match."
"Haha, overflowing with youth indeed. Whether that's possible, we shall see."
Their figures blurred.
The two dashed through the battlefield's heart, sparks erupting with each clash.
A brief decisive battle.
Truthfully, it wasn't only Cain who desired this—the Mercenary King did as well.
'Cain, this Magus's adaptability surpasses even my expectations.'
Even when confronted with the Mercenary King's specialty—judgment rooted in psychological warfare—Cain anticipated it, and grew accustomed to diverse techniques honed for battle.
A protracted fight would be disadvantageous.
Of course, the Mercenary King had no intention of forfeiting victory in this match, nor of letting the South's schemes proceed smoothly.
The Sovereign had decided.
And yet, he still refused to lower his sword. It was the stubbornness of an aging man, the desire to prove he was not yet feeble.
One minute passed.
Kkaaa-aang!
The clang of steel resounded.
Cain fought with sheer power from the front, the Mercenary King countered with skill and unique responses.
Both threw their full strength into the clash.
Two minutes passed.
Cain pressed down on the Mercenary King from above.
Next, he took a wide step forward, and with the recoil, drove his knee upward. Grazed by it, blood ran down the Mercenary King's face, yet he slipped inside.
Kwaaa-ang!
He struck Cain's abdomen with the sword hilt.
At once, he unleashed a technique to land another shock. The regenerated barrier of the [Immaculate Robe] collapsed once more.
Three minutes passed.
Snatching a chain from a nearby mercenary, the Mercenary King bound Cain's sword and yanked it.
Both thrust their blades to block the other's strike, then, with nimble movements, each lashed out with fist and leg, slamming into each other's faces.
Four minutes passed.
"Huff, huff...."
After exchanging hundreds of blows at full power, the Mercenary King began to tire.
A man in his twenties, approaching his physical prime, and a man in his fifties, long past his peak—there was a gap in stamina that could not be bridged.
Even so, the Mercenary King, battered and bleeding, focused on defense without ceasing his counterattacks. He swung his sword at Cain's neck, and slammed toward his heart.
Gritting his teeth to suppress the pain, Cain spun and swung his elbow. Mana's shock seeped through the gaps in the armor, breaking two of the Mercenary King's ribs.
And so, five minutes passed.
They fell apart.
Sensing it was time to end this, Cain unleashed a secret technique. The overflowing mana surged, and the demonic sword, Cretima, absorbed it all.
Light rose along the blade.
Chill air spread, as Cain shot forth like a lightning bolt.
But in a situation where time was pressing, when unleashing such a powerful technique, unseen gaps inevitably appeared.
'Now.'
Taking a deep breath, the Mercenary King activated Sun-dong and charged straight in, unleashing his hidden trump card without hesitation.
Si-yeok施逆.
A reversal technique of counterattack, absorbing the shock of an opponent's strike and instantly converting it into physical power.
Kwaaaaaaaaang!
The two crossed.
They slid to a halt, bracing with their legs.
A few seconds of silence.
Hooduduk.
The Mercenary King flicked his blade.
Droplets of blood scattered across the ruined ground.
"I am still active duty, after all."
Blood seeped within the [Immaculate Robe].
Soon, Cain's shoulder, flank, and side burst open, spraying blood. He staggered, bracing himself with his demonic sword.
Then, the Mercenary King gave a hollow laugh.
"But it seems I truly am getting old."
...Thud.
Crushed armor fell away.
His wrist was broken, his organs battered. From trembling fingertips, the dark sword slipped, falling helplessly to the ground.
The Mercenary King turned his gaze.
Cain had already closed the distance, placing the demonic sword at his throat.
"Surrender the match now, or I will kill you."
His breath ragged, his wounds bleeding, but still showing strength.
It was truly monstrous endurance.
Above all, those resolute eyes... sharp killing intent gleamed there, chilling to behold.
Yet he still held to his will.
"Young people, they grow so fast."
The Mercenary King raised his hands.
"I surrender."
The West's representative admitted defeat.
There was no need to urgently halt the siege. All eyes were already drawn to Cain's duel with the Mercenary King.
The North, the West, the East.
Thus, the competition over the great mine, fought as a three-way war, ended with the North's victory.
***
The Eastern army, eliminated first from the match, began the march home, leaving behind the dead Cheolp and the captive Kardric.
Inside the luxurious carriage rode only two of the four Grand Lords.
"This... this cannot be how we retreat!"
Toren fumed.
The unexpected strength of the North, the sly advance of the Mercenary King.
Being forced to face both powers at once was maddening enough, but their fury stemmed from something else.
"They captured our supreme commander, and the custom is to take him hostage! Yet they butchered him so mercilessly! How can this be tolerated!"
They had sent Grimnax to assassinate Liam, yet felt no guilt.
After all, they had failed, and it had been Count Cheolp who ordered it.
"I agree."
Hedowar ground his inner cheek.
"The North crossed a line that must not be crossed. If we do not repay this, our position will be worthless. Five years of war ban or not, retaliation is necessary."
"That is exactly what I mean. Marquis Gerdom has summoned all the Grand Lords upon hearing the news. Surely he thinks the same...! Liam, that cunning bastard, must die to appease us all."
At that, Toren swallowed hard.
"But... what if, in the council, they hold us responsible for losing the match? Do we have a way out?"
"Do not worry. Cheolp was the representative. The losses fall on him. They will be busy seizing his estate. And was it not the Great Warrior's duty to protect him? The greatest blame lies there."
"Ah, indeed. Then we are safe. What a relief."
Dugudug, dugudug.
The horse-drawn carriage thundered down the road.
Before long, Toren and Hedowar arrived at Marquis Gerdom's castle, adjusted their attire, and walked calmly inside.
The tightly closed council chamber doors.
Gulp.
Swallowing nervously, they forced themselves to push through, entering with strength.
...But what greeted them first was not the angry faces of the Grand Lords. It was the stench of blood, thick enough to numb the nose.
"...Ah?"
Toren stared blankly.
Eight Grand Lords, still dressed in noble attire and adorned with jewelry, sat quietly at their seats... but no matter how he rubbed his eyes, every one of them was missing their heads.
On the dining table before them, food remained, but pools of fresh blood spread.
"Wh-what is this."
A shadow fell from behind.
The Great Warrior hired by the East.
Finally realizing, Hedowar cried out.
"G-Great Warrior! The Grand Lords, they! No, quickly, protect us...!"
Seogeok.
The massive sword swept sideways.
Hedowar and Toren were decapitated in one blow, red blood spraying as their bodies collapsed.
The Great Warrior spoke.
"With this, all the Grand Lords of the East are dead. What about the one taken hostage in the North?"
"Not my concern."
From the shadows emerged a beastman of massive build, reminiscent of a black tiger.
Holding a thick handmade cigarette, he looked down at the Great Warrior.
"That was not in the contract. The South's request was only to kill all the Grand Lords 'in' the East and their closest knights."
"To be precise, it was to kill all the Grand Lords 'of' the East."
"Don't irritate me with petty details, weakling. It's your fault for failing to kill him before he was taken hostage. I'll allow you two choices. Shut your mouth, or pay extra."
"...Weakling, you say?"
The Great Warrior bared his fangs, gripping his sword.
To one born with extraordinary physical power, being called weak was foreign.
"Try me. Tearing apart that barbaric body of yours might be satisfying."
Regardless, the beastman's eyes remained disdainful.
It was pure contempt for the weak.
Conflict was about to explode.
Then, an elderly man with a neat impression entered, stopping them.
"Enough. The South has already decided. They say they will deal with the hostage, Grand Lord Kardric. Thus, your contract with the South is fulfilled. They will transfer the balance by tomorrow."
Hoo.
The beastman exhaled smoke.
"Tell them, if it is even a little late, they all die."
The beastman of the Black Tiger tribe───one of the Central Continent's Four Powers, the 'Black Beast'───left the room with heavy steps, through the chamber filled with corpses.
His presence vanished.
Only when the heavy atmosphere completely dissipated did the Great Warrior lower his sword.
"Now the Eastern Grand Lords are gone, and their seats will be taken by traitors, like you, who betrayed the East and sided with the South. The East that joined the match will be replaced by another force entirely."
Now, like the Black Beast, it was the old man hired by the South───the 'Broker's turn to act.
"It is time to head for the mediation zone."
The competition's contract would be revised to the South's liking.
Unless something unforeseen occurred.
***
A thick hand grasped a stone fragment.
He calmly stroked it, then crushed it with his grip, examining its insides carefully before slowly lifting his gaze to the surrounding scenery.
"So this is the so-called land without an owner? Hmph, not as impressive as volcanic terrain, but still better than I'd heard. A place where many types of minerals surely sleep."
"And your impression?"
"Well... it's decent enough?"
Gharun rubbed his nose.
Judging by the slight smile at his lips, the new land pleased him.
"That is fortunate."
At last, Verden and Alpha returned to the land without an owner, bringing their new residents.
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