[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 319: Shouting at the Top of My Lungs

Our fight, in its final moments, had entered the realm of dueling over the subtleties of the sword.

‘This is a battle of who can read the other better, and how they can deny and twist that reading.’

We fiercely read each other’s next move, then repeatedly either destroyed that move with power or evaded it with speed and skill.

As all of our techniques became familiar to each other’s eyes, our fight was gradually becoming a contest of pure prediction, where even psychological warfare no longer worked.

‘So, this kind of battle exists.’

It felt as if I was immersed in the world of a single, complete martial art.

‘This is Duke Montera’s own path, one he has perfected.’

And I am a traveler walking that path.

“Allenvert.”

Duke Montera, whose hair had been clipped by my sword, smiled.

“You are a genius.”

…At last, my sword was beginning to reach him.

“Just now, without any tricks, your pure reading of my moves almost surpassed my own.”

The Duke praised me.

“Are you saying that in the end, you have understood me and are now deconstructing me?”

“…”

He was right.

Both when I faced Ivan’s sword and when I faced Duke Montera’s.

The pinnacles of swordsmanship that were once so difficult to see that I could barely manage to react to them, I could now read them myself.

“But that’s not enough.”

The Duke was no ordinary master.

Every time my ability to read him deepened, he would invariably break the flow by unleashing a ki wave, a ground-stomp, or a sledgehammer-like fist.

‘There’s no real way to counter techniques like that.’

That’s because they are too concise and fast to read any preliminary signs and react.

‘And because the Duke is a perfectly complete warrior.’

Using techniques like the Shadow Flowing Phantom Sword or the Moon Dance two or three times after he has already read their principles is nothing more than a useless waste of effort.

‘Therefore, naturally…’

It was difficult to use ultimate techniques that inevitably had large and obvious preliminary signs, like the Ashen Celestial Dance, Profound Radiant Heaven Rend, or even Celestial Chain Breaker and Soul-Slumbering Black Moon, which required some preparation.

‘In that case, what must I use to defeat this man?’

Because I lacked a suitable method, Duke Montera was also unable to finish me.

‘Don’t get impatient.’

My breathing grew ragged, and the energy that had filled my seven islands was nearing its bottom.

‘Even so, endure.’

…Become the wolf on a winter’s night that stays awake for three whole nights to succeed in a single hunt.

“Hm!”

And finally, the wolf’s fangs reached the giant.

“…Your eyes.”

The Duke looked into my eyes and said, “They are shining.”

It wasn't just a turn of phrase; it felt as if my vision had literally brightened.

“Congratulations.”

Duke Montera stopped his sword.

“You have surpassed the wall of the 8th-tier. Another superhuman has been born. And at an age so young it is unprecedented in all of history.”

I stood still and looked down at my own palm.

“…This feels strange.”

An overwhelming sense of reality.

It felt as if my palm, the flowing blood, the beads of sweat, the faint trembling of my pulse, the flow of mana swirling around me, were all reaching my eyes with an indescribable density.

Vwooooong!

When I gripped my sword again with that hand, a Sword Aura began to form in a way it never had before.

“That is Sword Aura.”

Overwhelming cutting power, overwhelming hardness, overwhelming presence.

It was enough to make me wonder if there was anything at all that could not be cut by this single sword.

‘If I add density to this with the reinforcement art of the Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique…’

…I could wield an even more powerful sword.

But for now, I just wanted to purely enjoy the sensation that this new realm of Sword Aura gave me.

“You fought me as an equal even before you broke through the wall, so I suppose I have no chance of victory now.”

The Duke’s face looked as if a great weight had been lifted.

“Allenvert Grunewald. Go, and surpass me.”

“What?”

“I have only wandered at the entrance of the vast realm that is the 8th-tier, but you… you could reach a realm that is far, far beyond.”

“…”

“Kill me honorably. For the name of Montera to survive, I have no choice but to be the first to fall, taking the blame for our sins with me.”

The Duke’s face was finally at peace.

“Now that I have let go of my attachments and accepted defeat, my heart feels so light.”

In that brief moment, the Duke looked as if he had aged ten years.

“I ask for mercy for the family and clan I leave behind. I cannot hope for glory, but please…”

I willingly accepted the Duke’s last words.

“Do not worry and depart in peace. Your sins will be paid for, neither more nor less than what is deserved.”

“My thanks.”

The Duke said, as if giving a gift.

“I once asked Ivan something. If the Dark King is so strong, why does he not step onto the front lines himself?”

“!”

“He simply said this: There is a reason why he cannot step onto the front lines.”

“…And what is that reason?”

“I do not know. But perhaps it is the Dark King’s ‘one and only weakness’.”

The Duke raised his sword again, as if to say the gift was now over.

“I wish you luck in your fight. You may be the one who can defeat the Dark King.”

“…Farewell, Duke.”

With the last of our strength, we exchanged a final sword strike.

Splat!

Duke Montera slowly collapsed.

“…I won.”

A strange sense of emptiness, and the elation of having surpassed a realm I could not have imagined, made me raise my head.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The roar of our allies who had been watching the fight shook the heavens and the earth.

***

“Duke Montera has been defeated!”

“Throw down your weapons and surrender!”

The defeated soldiers led by Count Darsereun had succeeded in breaking through the encirclement.

But they could not shut their ears to the cheers of the enemy army from afar, nor to the shouts of Zamuel’s pursuit party.

“…His Grace was defeated?”

“It’s a lie.”

The Count felt a pain as if his chest were collapsing, as if his heart were being squeezed, and turned his head.

“State your name.”

“Zamuel.”

Zamuel answered, stepping forward.

“Are you the Duke’s adjutant?”

“…I am Knight Commander Darsereun.”

Zamuel nodded.

“Indeed, your reputation is well-earned. I have seen your valor for myself, Count.”

Zamuel skillfully flattered his opponent before getting to the main point.

“Surrender.”

“Do you think I will?” the Count sneered.

“You must.”

“I would rather die than surrender. How could I?”

Zamuel shook his head.

“There must be a center to rebuild the clan that is left behind, and for those who have been taken prisoner, no?”

“!”

The Count’s eyes wavered, but he soon replied.

“The First Young Master is protecting the clan.”

“You intend to let the First Young Master clean up this mess all by himself after everything is over? That is far too irresponsible.”

“What did you say?”

“Before you are a knight or a warrior, you are a vassal. It is your choice which duty you hold more dear, but…”

Zamuel lowered his voice.

“I, too, know well the sorrow of being the one left behind, the pressure of being second-in-command.”

“…”

“Look at your soldiers right now. Even if they escape, how far will they get? Do you truly think they can reach the distant Montera Duchy? They’ll just end up being hunted as prisoners of war.”

Count Darsereun squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel his resolve wavering.

“Will we not all be killed eventually, even if we surrender?”

Confirming that only this last bastion of resistance remained, Zamuel answered.

“Young Master Allenvert Grunewald did not annihilate the Angantyr, who were his maternal clan’s mortal enemies, nor the Bergen and Agrippa who colluded with them. I believe his past actions are proof enough.”

“…”

Count Darsereun looked around.

He saw the faces of those whose spirits were broken, who were exhausted beyond measure.

He could almost hear their silent pleas, some protesting that they shouldn't surrender, others begging to stop, that they had done enough.

“…We have done enough.”

The Count squeezed his eyes shut.

“It was a mistake from the start to join hands with the likes of the Black Society and to betray our long-held faith.”

His hand dropped his weapon.

“We surrender.”

As everyone followed suit and dropped their weapons, Zamuel said.

“Disarm them with due respect and then sequester them.”

The battle was over.

***

“Wow, I really almost died.”

I lay down, feeling a pain as if my entire body would shatter.

“Young Master, are you alright?”

I shook my head at Siena’s question.

“No, I feel like I’m going to die.”

But Siena’s injuries were not light either.

“Everyone, get some rest. You all look like you’ve been through a meat grinder.”

Ghir, who had been defending the flank in our stead, walked over with his tattered clothes slung over his shoulder.

“Ghir, you okay?”

“My arm almost got lopped off about three times, my neck, about twice. If it wasn’t for me, we would have died a long time ago.”

Even Ghir, with his incredible regenerative abilities, bore wounds all over his body that had not yet fully healed.

“Congratulations, Young Master. You’ve gone to a completely different dimension.”

“…I just got there a little early. All of you can become much stronger than you are now.”

“That may be so, but surpassing the 8th-tier is probably impossible.”

Ghir said, shaking his head.

“You’re a strange one. I was definitely stronger than you when we first fought.”

“What are you talking about? I was holding back then, too.”

“Sure you were.”

I sighed.

“Jeffrey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Jeffrey, who had been commanding the personal guards in my place, answered with a tired voice.

“The warriors of the North are truly strong.”

“But we won.”

I also looked at Zizek, who was lying on the ground as if it were a bed.

“What are you doing? Sleeping?”

“I seriously thought I was going to die. I feel like if I close my eyes, I’ll fall asleep instantly.”

“Go sleep in a corner where you won’t be in the way.”

The few who still had energy left were moving about, cleaning up the battlefield.

“This time, it really feels like we won by pouring out everything we had.”

Ulbhild said, sitting down next to me.

“Sister.”

“Duke Montera was a truly powerful man. To have finally defeated such a man and reached the 8th-tier… I’m proud of you.”

I grinned.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to spar with me when we get back.”

“Of course.”

It was right at that moment, as we were savoring the afterglow of victory…

“…Well, well.”

A group of men in black were approaching us.

The face of the man leading them was…

“Ivan!”

Ivan had appeared.

‘Is this bastard trying to profit from our fight?’

His timing was razor-sharp.

Not a single person among us was unscathed, and it would be difficult for me to fight any more.

However.

“I don’t think so.”

I wasn’t the only one on this battlefield.

“Ivan, you son of a bitch.”

I glared at Ivan and said.

“You have made a very serious miscalculation.”

I shouted at the top of my lungs.

“BROTHEEEEEEEEER!”

A sword strike that flew from a distance descended upon Ivan.

KAAAAAAAAAAAANG!

Ivan, who deflected the sword strike, narrowed his brow.

“Verdzig Grunewald.”

Enter.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]