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Chapter 284: Followers of the End (3)

The armies of the two powers faced each other again at Nagma Riverbank approximately one month after the engagement on Karul Plains.

The riverbank was too narrow for a full-scale engagement. Therefore, the commanders of both armies sent twenty to thirty thousand troops forward. The beasts of the land, as well as the birds, had all fled. Thousands of troops moved as one, shaking the ground with their steps and the air with their shouts.

Kung! Kung! Kung!

There was a magnificent drumming sword as horses charged and swords flashed brightly. The blades deflected the noon sunlight, and their helmets shone.

Indeed, they were the empire of swords.

However, the Meltor army opposite them were not amateurs. The victory of their hero at Dofrun Castle had ignited their fighting spirit, and was fueling their confidence on the battlefield.

Not bad.

Orta silently evaluated the situation as he nudged his horse forward.

Thanks to Theo, the number of shields has been significantly reduced. Of course, we can’t afford to install a tactical-class magic circle yet, but?that?might be worth a try.

The Andras army had lost a few of their titanium shields, which had created a gap in their ranks. If Meltor took advantage of it, they could kill at least five thousand troops. As the distance between the two armies was halved, Orta calculated in his head. A well trained horse could traverse the distance between them in thirty seconds.

The two commanders raised their hands in the air.

“Charge from the first row!”

“Raise the flag of fire! Wipe out all of the enemies!”

The knights of Andras charged forward while fire and lightning arced into the sky from the Meltor camp. It was already too late to turn the horses around as the bombardment rained down. The knights abandoned retreat, layering aura around their bodies and charging forward.

It was a showdown between the knights’ charge and the magicians’ firepower.

Kwarururung!

The hoofbeats rang out on the battlefield, but the ball of fire deafened everyone’s ears as it landed among the knights, incinerating a horse and its rider. The knight didn’t even have a chance to scream as he was turned to charcoal.

Even Andras’ specially treated armor couldn’t withstand the spell. A 5th Circle magician had personally amplified the simple magic spell beyond its limits. Elsewhere, lightning cracked open a knight’s skull, pillars of fire burned half a dozen knights at once.

In a moment, a hundred knights had been reduced to crumbling charcoal.

Puhwaak!

Nevertheless, there were dozens of survivors. Their skin was seared and their lungs were burning, but they had reached Meltor’s front lines.

“Ohhhhhh!”

They fell from their dying horses and used the last of their strength to swing their aura blades. They were already half dead, but their souls were still alive, so their auras responded.

It was truly a mad loyalty! As the Meltor soldiers took a step back, the knights’ blades flashed.

Chwaack! Hwaaaaack!

Heads flew into the air, and bloody rain fell from the sky as the knights attacked again.

Kakang!

However, the magic soldiers threw themselves forward.

“Don’t back down! Fight the opponents!”

“Stand firm! For one minute—no, thirty seconds!”

It was a frightening decision to dance on the threshold of life and death, even if the knights were barely breathing. Somehow, the magic soldiers had to receive the sword, even if it meant self-destruction. They didn’t fight to win, just to hold their opponents in place. The magic soldiers were able to do that, even if they were relatively lacking in combat power.

The real test came with the 2nd line of the Andras army.

Commands would be useless once it turned into a grand melee. Destruction spells started to fall on the enemy from Meltor’s back lines, while the maddened soldiers fought like beasts to survive a minute longer. They stabbed their spears until they couldn’t feel anything and fell to the ground, blood spilling from their bodies. This was a battlefield, a place where human life was trampled on like weeds.

In the middle of this storm of blood, two men encountered each other.

“We meet again, rat. For you to not feel threatened after our first bout... well, it isn’t bravery. I have to praise you if you have come to offer yourself as a sacrifice,” the Empire’s 3rd Sword, Prince Fermut, said.

He wore a set of luxurious armor and held a sword which shone with a red light. Clearly, neither were ordinary pieces of equipment. Orta could feel a strange energy from the blade, and grew increasingly wary.

They each had countermeasures for the other, but the relationship between the two people hadn’t changed. When it was the same type, Aura Ability was absolutely superior to Sorcery. If Orta lost his concentration for even a moment, he would lose his head.

The prince snorted. “I thought you were sharp, but I guess it was just a rumor.”

“...?Hoh?” Orta met the provocation with barbs of his own, “I don’t know what to say to you, foolish prince. You call Meltor your enemy, but you don’t understand what a magician is.”

Femur brought his blade forward. “A rat who runs whenever you fall in trouble?”

Orta replied, “No, we learn from the unknown. In that sense, your surprise attack was wonderful. If an ally hadn’t arrived back then, I would’ve died there.”

The Aura Ability, Refraction, was Orta’s natural enemy. It deflected any attack, and blocked any unique blows. It was like cutting the limbs off a knight and putting them on the battlefield. Fermut wasn’t an opponent Orta could win against without preparation. However, Orta was different today.

He opened his arms wide and roused his magic power. “Regret it. You should’ve killed me last time.”

Fermut’s lip curled. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill you today.”

The two masters fell silent.

Wiiiiing!

The space between them twisted. Thirty six space cuts appeared around Orta, while Fermut bludgeoned three attacks.

This was the difference between the two.

Normal aura couldn’t counter space magic, but Fermut was different. His aura twisted space around him to override physical interference. Its utility was in both attack and defense.

“What is there to learn? You’re doing the same thing again, rat!” Fermut drew his red aura around him like a cloak and sprang toward Orta.

Fermut’s Aura Ability had some similarities with Zest’s, but the two were incomparable. Fermut bent space to shorten the distance he had to move. In some ways, Fermut’s application of his ability could be considered close to Shukuchiho. Narrowing dozens of meters in one breath, Fermut’s red blade distorted the empty space.

Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. Sleeping Moon. Break the Seams of Space.

It wasn’t easy to catch Orta when he used Blink, but on the other hand, blocking Blink made it trivial. Fermut’s aura tugged on space, causing Orta to stiffen in the air as he dodged using Blink.

“Die!” Fermut cried out as his eyes grew red with bloodlust.

Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. Round Decapitation.

The sword clearly curved to cut at Orta’s neck. In fact, space around Orta’s neck was compressing. There was no way for Orta to avoid it when his space movement was sealed. Fermut had unleashed a space cut that couldn’t be blocked with physical strength... This wasn’t a trick that was used often, so Orta wouldn’t have known.

However, he did know.

“Bend,” Orta spoke in a voice that couldn’t be heard by anyone.

Kiiing-

There was a difference of exactly one inch as the red aura circle distorted, but it was enough for Orta to escape from the noose of death.

It was a bolt out of the blue for Fermut, who had been certain of his victory. “H-How could you?”

“Over Bound.” Orta’s shockwave hit Fermut’s body that had been momentarily unprotected by aura.

Fermut coughed up blood from the damage to his internal organs. “Cough, t-this rat...!”

Orta leaped back and ridiculed Fermut, “Do you feel a sense of crisis now?”

Fermut snarled back, “Don’t be arrogant just because of luck!”

He hadn’t been hurt too badly. The disturbed aura calmed down and started to burgeon in size again. As Fermut lifted his blade, the blade’s path left behind a distorted, twisted whirlpool of chaos. It was a spiral sword which would tear at anything it touched.

Fermut leaped forward, sword held high.

I won’t miss this time!

It had been his mistake to let his aura defense dissipate, but this time, his sword would definitely cut that rat’s neck. His fury caused his blade to become even sharper. He didn’t make the slightest error as he bent space and his sword descended in a perfect arc.

Fermut had never been so focused ever since he obtained his Refraction ability. So, why didn’t his sword reach its target?

Jeeeong!

Fermut was hit by another shockwave, and he roared angrily.

“... You!” His eyes gave away the shock beneath his anger. “What trick are you using, you coward?!”

Orta snorted. “Are you calling wisdom cowardice? Indeed, you wouldn’t be able to understand it with your idiot brain. I’ll teach you personally.”

Despite Orta’s ridiculous insults, Fermut listened carefully. It was possible that the rat had found a weakness in his ability. In any case, he would kill the rat as soon as he heard the story. Blood vessels popped up on Fermut’s arm as he desperately suppressed his anger.

Orta spoke, “It isn’t a big deal. Your Aura Ability is to bend space, not erase or make it. I just estimated the index of refraction with my eyes and recalculated my magic formula accordingly.”

“―What?” Fermut was stunned for a moment before immediately and furiously refuting it. “Don’t make me laugh! As a magician, don’t you know the principles of magic? The density of my refraction is always changing. You can’t possibly read it in real time and use spells to match it!”

“Ho, it looks like you are slightly better than I thought. That’s right. It isn’t possible for ordinary magicians,” Orta nodded.

Fermut was surprised by Orta’s next move.

Click.

Orta untied his mask and removed it. “But I can.”

He actually looked rather attractive. The wrinkles gave his face a dignified look, while the large and small scars covering his cheeks proved he was a veteran. However, the most unique part was his pair of eyes.

“... What are those eyes?” Fermut forgot his anger.

It was like the whites of Orta’s eyes didn’t exist. His eyes were recessed in their sockets, embodying the concept of emptiness. There would only be a few people in this day and age who would recognize them. They were eyes that the magicians from the Age of Mythology had yearned for in their dreams. They were called the Empty Mystic Eyes.

“Well, I don’t know the details either,” Orta reached up to touch his eyes as he looked back on the distant past. “All I know is that I was born blind, with eyes that were unable to see. So I learned how things were shaped using my ears. Luckily, I had some talent in magic.”

He was downplaying it. Orta was a genius. He solved complicated formulas in his head, analyzed what wasn’t detectable by sight with his hearing and touch, and learned everything he could lay his hands on. One day, he had hit the wall of the 6th Circle and lost his way for a while. He had forgotten the self-confidence which had sustained him in place of his missing eyes, and he had struggled every day.

“I wasted ten years.”

The answer to his wall was this pair of eyes that shouldn’t exist.

“I realized it the first moment I saw the world.”

To be honest, he didn’t even care about the 7th Circle. He just gazed at the world that had appeared in front of him. A world that no one else could see.

“My eyes can pierce the world. I see beyond the three dimensions and gain insight into indescribable concepts.”

“T-This is ridiculous...!”

“Space refraction—I understood it after seeing it once.”

Fermut’s body trembled as he understood what this meant. It meant that he couldn’t do anything in Orta’s presence. It was no wonder why Orta was so sure that he wouldn’t die.

Unlike the first unexpected battle, the current Orta could see through Fermut’s ability. No matter how quickly Fermut changed his refractive index, it would still be slower than Orta’s movements. There was no way for Fermut’s blows to land anymore.

The quietly confident Orta declared, “The reason for your defeat is simple. You have abused that power.”

Fermut poured all his aura into his sword and shouted, “-Don’t be foolish, talkative magician!”

Born as the successor of the strongest empire in the continent, Fermut had never tasted frustration. Orta’s declaration was an insult to him.

Fermut decided to leave everything on the line as he used a hidden technique that he hadn’t shown yet. “I won’t leave a single piece of flesh left on that cheeky body!”

There was a burst of light from the dark red sword.

Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. Final Hidden Technique. End of the World.

The space bent all around him, tearing everything it found in its grasp! Even the 2nd Sword, Zest, admitted that it was wonderful. There was no way a magician could survive except by running.

... No, there was one way.

“You lack the ability to learn. Didn’t I say it was futile?” Orta walked through the whirlwind of blood-tinged aura, “This is the end.”

A single finger rose, a brilliant flash blinded the battlefield...

Paaang!

… and a large hole was drilled into the middle of Fermut’s chest.