Chapter 144:  Cat in the Trap.

Pattinson, gripping a spear in one arm, stepped forward.

“Retreat!”

“Everyone run!”

From inside the defensive camp, the Daphne forces who had desperately resisted until now began to flee.

‘This is even simpler than I expected. As I thought… once the defenses are broken, they’re nothing special.’

Slash! Slash!

“Guhk!”

“Kek!”

As he strode forward, he cut down the soldiers who brushed past him.

Like stepping on ants, he ended lives without the slightest emotion.

As though he had become the grim reaper of this battlefield, he dealt out death.

And then…

“The back gate! Open the back gate!”

“Hurry up and open it!”

Because the back gate of the camp was still firmly shut, most of the soldiers kept crowding near it.

If he struck now, before they scattered, he could wipe them all out in one sweep.

‘Just like rats trapped in a jar of poison.’

Thud! Thud! Thud!

With a twisted smile tugging at his lips, Pattinson quickened his pace.

Slash! Slash!

“Kh!”

He slashed the spear sideways, thrust it forward, and cut down the enemies in front.

From time to time, Daphne Knights would charge at him.

Claang!

“Aaagh!”

But with only a few blows, their shoulders or arms were pierced, leaving them unable to fight.

“Out of the way.”

He had no intention of leisurely cutting them down one by one.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

He simply swung.

Without thought, without intent.

Each time he moved the spear, charged with mana and strength, Daphne lives fell as fleeting as spring petals.

How far had he advanced like this?

Swishhh!

The sound of air being cut closed in.

When Pattinson casually stretched out his spear sideways—

Clang!

“Hm?”

Sparks flew, a spear spun through the air, and struck the ground with a thud.

Pattinson turned his gaze toward the one who had thrown it and spoke.

“You are… Young Master Hardin Daphne, aren’t you?”

“And you must be Captain Pattinson. Quite the flashy performance you gave.”

Hardin answered with a mix of tension and a smile.

“I’ll take that as praise.”

Whoosh!

When Pattinson swung his spear sideways, narrowing his eyes, Hardin’s smile vanished as well.

And immediately after—

Clang! Clang! Claang!

Their spear and sword vanished into blurring strikes, sparks bursting one after another in the air.

‘That brat… he’s blocking Captain Pattinson’s attacks.’

‘Where did he come from?’

Nearby Tread knights stared at them in disbelief.

A 3-star Knight. One who had surpassed Expert level and stood near the realm of Master, a man worthy of being called the strongest of Luden Shire—Captain Pattinson.

And yet, a boy who looked barely past twenty was exchanging equal blows with him.

“C-Captain!”

“We’ll help you!”

As the Tread Knights hesitated and moved closer,

“You’re in the way!”

Pattinson roared, forcing them back.

‘No need to pile up pointless casualties.’

It was obvious that if useless rabble got involved, they’d only get in the way.

Clang! Claaang!

Thus, the two men’s feet and weapons never stopped moving, locked in a fierce clash.

Dust rose again and again from the ground as the standoff continued.

‘A swordsmanship I’ve never seen before.’

A crease formed on Pattinson’s forehead as he blocked Hardin’s sword.

Pattinson’s spear technique was known as “Cold Wind.”

It was a style that focused everything on destructive power—fast thrusts, straight-line assaults, and relentless consecutive strikes.

Normally, knights of equal rank could do little more than struggle to keep up with the speed, barely able to execute their own techniques.

But Hardin was different.

Not only did he withstand every one of Pattinson’s strikes…

Swoosh!

At that moment, Hardin’s sword twisted, slipping into a blind spot and striking in from the side.

It felt as if the sword itself possessed will and moved with life.

‘To be at this level at his age…’

Clang!

Pattinson deflected the strike, gritting his teeth.

‘It’s enough to make me jealous.’

What should he call that blade the boy wielded?

A snake? A whip? Or perhaps…

Narrowing his eyes, Pattinson etched Hardin’s movements into memory, linking them into another image.

After several more exchanges,

A realization suddenly struck him.

‘A wave.’

It wasn’t just unpredictable variety.

Unlike other swords whose force weakened when clashing with his spear, Hardin’s strikes came back even stronger every time he blocked them.

Like a wave—though it may vanish when crashing into a rock, it returns as an even greater swell.

Every moment their blades crossed felt like standing on a shore, relentlessly battered by massive waves.

‘Shall I push further?’

Drawing on his mana, Pattinson quickened his pace.

He deliberately stabbed at openings, mixing in feints to lure out mistakes.

Clang! Clang!

But Hardin didn’t fall for it.

Instead, his sword washed over Pattinson’s spear like the tide, sweeping it aside with ease.

Blood seeped from the hand gripping his spear, sweat dripping from his brow.

He suddenly felt less like he was standing on the shore and more like he was drowning at sea.

Pattinson’s expression twisted.

‘Impressive.’

It felt as if his breath was slowly tightening, yet there was no escape.

To see someone this young display such talent, other than his own lord…

Unshaken eyes, staring at a formidable foe.

A calmness unbroken, even with the tide of battle against him.

The way he released mana at the perfect level each exchange—always balanced on the razor’s edge—showed mastery in mana control.

If he exaggerated a little, Pattinson even felt as if he were crossing blades with something created for the sole purpose of fighting.

Part of him… even wanted to claim the boy under his command.

But.

‘No, I must kill him here.’

A sly grin curved one corner of Pattinson’s lips.

It was fortunate, he thought, to have discovered this blade before it could be honed sharper still.

Taat!

In an instant, Captain Pattinson leapt back, widening the distance from Hardin.

Hardin’s brow twitched, as though asking what his intent was.

Pattinson straightened his stance, his expression turning grim and sinister.

“You… do you intend to have a proper duel with this old man?”

“As you wish.”

Hardin scoffed and adjusted his grip on his sword.

And then—

“Hhh!”

Boom!

As Pattinson stomped his front foot, a thunderous sound rang out, his white hair scattering in the air.

The blue light flowing along the entire spear gathered into a single point at its tip.

Like when he used Shockwave, he condensed mana into one spot.

But this time, he had no intention of firing it outward.

Instead… it was a twisted method of mana control, to push his speed to the extreme for a single thrust.

“Here I come!”

Tadat!

He burst forward, driving his spear thrust.

Vwoooom!

The blue light condensed at the spear’s tip drew a streak as it shot out.

‘Now, how will you handle this!’

Even before, his thrusts had been nearly impossible to track with the naked eye, and now it felt as though even sound and light themselves were chasing after his movements.

This was no technique, no finesse—only a relentless offensive barrage, pouring out thrust after thrust with mana condensed into a single point.

Clang! Clang! Claaang!

Hardin thrust his sword out, blocking the strikes. But…

“Kh!”

Each time he received a thrust, his body was forced backward, his arms quivering.

With the immense reach of the spear combined with overwhelming speed, there was no chance of closing in.

Fwish! Fwish!

What he couldn’t perfectly deflect grazed his cheek and leg, drawing blood.

It was a one-sided exchange, the damage piling up on one side only.

Everyone around bore witness to it.

‘He’s being pushed back!’

‘So in the end, he’s just a greenhorn.’

On the faces of Count Tread’s knights, certainty of victory spread.

‘Young Master… are you alright?’

‘Damn it, how could anyone endure attacks like that?’

On the faces of the retreating Daphne Knights, fear and worry grew even darker.

Pattinson smirked faintly.

“What’s wrong? Can’t counterattack like before?”

“You senile bastard, what nonsense are you spewing?”

So, he was rattled after all.

With Pattinson’s grin, the ferocious spear strikes continued without pause.

The more Hardin was pushed back.

The less he managed to counter.

The more Pattinson felt something cooling inside himself.

‘Well, I suppose this is it.’

He had enjoyed himself enough.

Now it was about time…

“Hhh!”

In that instant, the light at the spear’s tip flared even more fiercely—

Clang!

Hardin’s sword shattered, fragments scattering through the air.

“It’s over, Hardin Daphne.”

Chuk!

Pattinson grasped the long spear in one hand and leveled it at Hardin’s throat.

Hardin muttered with an irritated look.

“Damn it, what kind of sword can’t even last this long? Guess I’ll have to get myself a proper one.”

“Heh, are you saying you only lost because you didn’t have a decent blade?”

“Hmm… who knows.”

Hardin stroked his chin for a moment, making light of the situation.

Thunk!

Then, all at once, he grabbed the spear that had been thrust right in front of his throat.

“…What?”

As Pattinson frowned and tried to pull his weapon back—

‘Huh?’

What was going on?

The spear, which should have come free easily, wouldn’t budge.

“Hhhhhh!”

He put all his strength into it, but Hardin’s body didn’t move an inch.

It was as if he had become a massive wall itself.

‘He isn’t budging at all.’

Unlike the flustered Pattinson, Hardin’s face remained calm and composed.

The moment he saw that expression—

‘Was this his plan all along? Or…’

Countless possibilities surged at once, thoughts tangling like threads.

Narrowing his eyes, Hardin muttered in a cold voice.

“I’ve never lost, so what nonsense are you spouting, you old geezer?”

“What did you…?”

Taat!

Then Hardin suddenly let go of the spear.

“Kh!”

For a split second, Pattinson’s balance broke, his center of gravity thrown off.

And in that instant, Hardin slipped right into his guard.

Wham!

“Guhaaahk!”

A crushing fist drove into his abdomen, forcing his body to bend forward.

Taat!

Hardin snatched up the long spear in one swift motion and thrust it straight toward his chest.

‘…I-I let my guard down.’

For a moment, it felt as though a black reaper had manifested behind Hardin’s narrowed eyes.

For Pattinson—long accustomed to reigning as the strongest in this region—it was the first time in ages he felt such peril.

‘Danger…!’

Swoosh!

He twisted his body at the last second, the spear grazing past the crown of his head, slicing away thick strands of white hair that scattered into the air.

Hardin stepped back, smiling faintly.

“I’ll put your weapon to good use.”

“….”

Insolent brat…

Pattinson’s brow twisted as he kicked a spear from the ground into his hand.

“You think you’ve won with just that? That wasn’t even my full strength. If I put my mind to it, a brat like you could be crushed anytime—”

“Oh, really? But what now?”

Hardin raised one corner of his lips in a sly grin.

“It’s about time for the promised hour.”

“…What?”

The moment Pattinson furrowed his brows—

– Kiiieeeeek!

A piercing shriek ripped through the air, loud enough to feel like it would tear their eardrums apart.

It was so overwhelming that even the Tread soldiers mid-attack flinched all at once.

“Wh-what was that… just now?”

“I-I don’t know either.”

At that moment, from the direction of the back gate of the camp—

“Everyone move away from the gate!”

“Fall back!”

Malion urgently pulled the soldiers and knights near the gate aside and behind him.

‘What’s he doing?’

‘Are they just giving up?’

The Tread troops were filled with confusion.

From their perspective, what Malion was doing—creating distance from the enemy even for a second—was practically a gift.

But right then—

Thoom! Thoom! Thoooom!

The ground shook as if an earthquake had struck. And then—

Kwooooom!

“Uwaaaah! Get back! Move!”

The back gate of the camp exploded apart, splinters of wood by the hundreds and thousands scattering into the air like rain.

And in the middle of that chaotic scene—

– Kiiieeeeek!

The owner of that roar revealed itself.

A massive white body so huge it couldn’t be taken in at a glance, with a steel-like beak and claws gleaming yellow.

“Huuuhhh?”

Pattinson’s eyes went wide as he looked up.

“A… a Cockatrice?”

For what had shattered Daphne’s back gate was none other than a Cockatrice, a monster second to none in size and raw power.