[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 318: The King's Procession is Here

Duke Montera’s powerful strikes hammered down on me.

‘Whoa, shit.’

I parried his attacks precariously.

‘Why is he so difficult to fight?’

To say it’s simply because the enemy is strong, because he’s an 8th-tier superhuman, would be a lazy explanation.

‘Look at the essence of it.’

That was, after all, the field I was most confident in.

‘He stomps the ground, raises a wave of mana, and shakes the earth.’

Almost all of Duke Montera’s techniques were accompanied by this sequence of actions.

‘That’s why my center of balance is already shaken, and my body keeps getting pushed back.’

It felt like swinging a sword in the middle of a massive storm; my movements were inevitably becoming unnatural.

‘…Incredible.’

He swings his sword from the optimal angle, on the best possible trajectory, to overwhelm his opponent.

And he forces his opponent to constantly deal with it from an uncomfortable posture.

‘Even if our swords clash just once like that, my stance and breathing collapse under that immense power.’

This was the secret to the hegemonic power sword wielded by Duke Montera.

‘If Ivan’s sword is fluid, yet possesses a cutting power that seems capable of slicing through anything…’

…Duke Montera uses his giant sword, immense strength, heavy physique, and superior athleticism to shake, crush, and smash his opponents.

‘And he uses such subtle tricks in the midst of all that? He even reads the preliminary signs of his opponent's attacks to intercept them beforehand.’

This was an 8th-tier superhuman.

I now realized that the level of swordsmanship Karzan had reached in my past life was by no means the apex or the ultimate truth.

‘Ivan, is this the landscape you saw?’

I looked into the face of the great swordmaster, a man in his prime, forged through countless sessions of training and real combat.

“Duke, is this the true martial art of the North?”

“When you’re fighting monsters, your blade dulls quickly. This is a branch of swordsmanship that evolved to allow one to crush the enemy even with a dull edge.”

The Duke, confirming that I had understood his technique, nodded.

“You have a good eye. They say you are a genius of the sword, yes?”

“If you don’t believe it, I will show you.”

I tried to imitate Duke Montera’s martial art.

‘I’ll use the power of the Light Star to amplify and replace my lack of strength, and I’ll use the harmony of the Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique mana to compensate for my lack of weight and sturdiness.’

After we exchanged about ten blows like that, the Duke let out a hollow laugh.

“Absurd.”

“That’s what people usually say when they fight me.”

“No, I was already aware that you are good at mimicking others’ techniques like a parrot.”

The Duke said, pointing at me.

“Are you using two kinds of power? No, it looks like two, but I can’t tell how many you’ve actually combined.”

I grinned.

“As sharp as ever. To tell you one more thing, the ultimate technique that uses the power of that explosion is this.”

I fired the Profound Radiant Heaven Rend.

KWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!

After the Duke cut down the massive explosion with his single greatsword, I unveiled my second ultimate technique.

“…And its fusion is this.”

Ashen Celestial Dance.

The massive ultimate technique that had annihilated Grimnar Angantyr without a trace, that could cleave even a landslide, swallowed the Duke whole.

Rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble

The shockwave from the explosion, which seemed to rupture the very air, sent me flying back twenty paces and the Duke back five.

“…Keum.”

I felt my insides churn from the incredible recoil, but I forced back the urge to vomit and maintained a neutral expression.

‘Wow, fuck.’

Is this what a hangover feels like the day after drinking hard liquor for three days and nights?

“I am quite an absurd man myself.”

Duke Montera said, gently rubbing his solar plexus.

“To think that I would finally feel enjoyment at a time like this.”

I dared to try and understand this man’s heart.

“A Duke, a clan head, and a prince’s father-in-law. But before all that, a single warrior.”

The Duke smiled with a tired face.

“That’s right. To think that you understand my heart.”

I once heard my father and Ulbhild say something like this to me.

‘Your empathy was good.’

“Let me ask you one thing. What was Ivan’s sword like?”

“It wasn’t as sinister as I thought. In fact, it felt more familiar than your sword.”

“I see.”

The Duke nodded and then asked his real question.

“If I had fought Ivan, would I have won?”

“That is a difficult question to answer.”

But I know that Ivan wasn't using his full strength.

“…It looked like a draw, or perhaps Ivan was about half a step ahead.”

“Is that so.”

The Duke nodded as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I thought we were equals, but I suppose I should trust the words of someone who has faced him directly.”

“Are you not disappointed?”

“Not really. In fact, I’m relieved.”

The Duke shrugged.

“If Ivan’s level is that high, it means my younger brother is stronger than him.”

I tilted my head.

“Is he that strong?”

“He is. Throughout all of Litvaleur, he is the greatest master after your father.”

“How do you know of my father’s prowess?”

“We met at the royal castle ten years ago. It was a celebration for the king’s fiftieth birthday.”

Duke Montera’s eyes were suddenly seeing the past.

“…I felt a great wall before that man. Come to think of it, your eldest brother was there as well.”

“Wasn’t I there?”

“You were probably too young to be brought along.”

The Duke then added that Verdzig wasn't there either.

“Time flies, and boys quickly become men. To think that you, who were still so young then, are now standing in my way.”

Instead of indulging his sentimentality, I said.

“You must have been a loyal subject back then, too.”

“I was. …Will you condemn me for what I’ve done?”

“Of course. Your infamy will be known for generations to come.”

“…If I win.”

The Duke said, suddenly saying something completely out of the blue.

“I will ensure that your clan is not annihilated.”

“That’s a strange way to ask for mercy.”

I snorted.

“Duke, have you sensed your defeat? Is this not you asking me to show you mercy as well?”

“Even if I win this time, I do not think I could defeat you the next time we fight.”

“That is a misconception.”

I said, correcting him.

“I intend to surpass you here, today.”

I suddenly turned my head.

The battle was still going on, but it was different around us.

The soldiers who had put down their weapons were watching us, as if they were official witnesses to this duel.

“I will make you a promise. The Montera clan will not be exterminated. However, those who bear responsibility must be judged harshly for their crimes.”

I made a promise in front of them all.

“Are you reassured now?”

That was, after all, my way of handling the sins of the Bergen and Agrippa families.

“Hahaha.”

The Duke laughed, his shoulders shaking.

“Allenvert, it seems you are destined to be the next Duke of Grunewald. You possess a stature in no way inferior to your father’s.”

“That might be a bit controversial. The man running wild over there is my brother, after all.”

The Duke grinned.

“I say this because I have faced you both.”

“Wow.”

Now that was something I was happy to hear.

‘And he’s right, isn’t he?’

***

The Fairy of the Blood Moon, Sercadis.

Her title carries the weight of her past, of having personally slaughtered five lords to avenge her clan.

“I heard she was given the name ‘Blood Moon’ because she only carried out her revenge on the night of a full moon.”

“…The night my family died was also a night with an unusually bright, full moon.” ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novel·fiɾe·net

Sercadis said.

“It is, in fact, a simple story. We were destroyed because our strength was lacking, and they suffered my revenge because they could not handle the severity of my talent, my opportunities, and my training.”

“Once your revenge was over, you could have felt its emptiness and retired, or left to find your own happiness.”

A single strike from Leszek foiled Sercadis’s vicious killing technique with far too much ease.

Swiiiiiish!

A flurry of swift strikes, swung as if being scattered, flew at a speed that surpassed Sercadis’s perception.

KAAAAANG!

She only managed to block it thanks to the instincts ingrained in her body and a state of no-self.

‘…I cannot win.’

Her subordinates were hand-picked elites, and the level of the Death Knights was terrifying.

But before the Sword Saint, it was all useless.

Leszek, who had cut them down one by one, sometimes with Sword Control, sometimes with Sword Orbs, sometimes with Sword Aura and the Mind Sword, was now aiming his blade only at her.

“Hey kid, are you getting it now?”

Geninghen, who was watching the fight, cackled mockingly.

“That guy isn’t human. He’s something like a spirit of the sword.”

“You bastard! How dare you act so relaxed while facing me!”

Geninghen’s form was engulfed in black demonic energy and vanished, but he was already gone from that spot.

“Hey, why are you so slow?”

“!”

A ray of light pierced the warlock’s body, and then lightning and hellfire relentlessly assaulted him.

KABOOM! FWOOOOSH!

After the warlock blocked the magic with a shield and healed his wounds himself, Geninghen pointed a finger at him.

“It’s not over yet.”

A series of brilliant and intricate spells descended upon him.

“…Old monsters. Still as strong as ever.”

Gulbark muttered.

‘And Heinz Valkenhain is still resisting, burning the last of his strength.’

These two, on the other hand, were displaying a level of skill that showed almost no signs of aging.

‘Moreover, Georg Grunewald’s prowess is nearly on par with that of Leszek or Geninghen.’

This, too, was an unforeseen situation.

While he couldn't say Georg was stronger than him, he was not at a level that could be easily suppressed either.

‘This is not good.’

What worried Gulbark was not whether this operation would fail.

Rather…

[Gulbark.]

The thing he had feared most had happened.

[Retreat.]

“M-my Lord.”

Gulbark broke out in a cold sweat and was about to say something.

[I said, retreat.]

Whose command would he dare to add his own words to?

“Yes, my Lord.”

Below one man, above all others.

In other words, even he who ruled over all men could not escape the status of a slave before this one being.

[Grunewald. You dare to obstruct this king, even at the final moment.]

As if night had fallen, the sky and clouds were dyed black.

“!!!”

The sun was blotted out.

An darkness befitting the Dark King’s procession covered the sky and the sea.

“Ah…”

At last, the Dark King revealed his jet-black presence.

SWOOOOOSH!

The sea parted. The Dark King flew slowly through the rift in the water.

“The King’s procession is here.”

Said Gulbark, who had dropped to his knees in prostration.

“Kneel.”

At that moment, a massive pressure that crushed everything pressed down on friend and foe alike.

***

Our fight had finally entered the pure realm of sword versus sword.

‘This reminds me of my 100-bout duel with Ivan.’

Without that fight, I would have ultimately lost, or I would have had to use stealth to retreat somehow.

‘In that case, we would have won the war, but I would have let Duke Montera escape.’

Then it would have been difficult to claim that my contribution was greater than Verdzig’s.

I can’t have that.

‘More importantly, since coming into this world, I have never officially recorded a defeat.’

The undefeated myth of Young Master Allenvert Grunewald being broken? Unacceptable.

What about Ivan, you ask?

‘Shut up. That was a draw.’

I will not be accepting any counterarguments. Anyway, that aside…

“…I see it now,” I muttered.

“See what?”

“You ask the obvious.”

I answered.

“I can see the path to victory.”

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]