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[Translator - Pot ]
[Proofreader - Kawaii ]
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Chapter 190: The Rules of Battlefield
The crimson sunset quietly sank beneath the waves enveloping Grunewald Harbor.
It was the twilight that marked the end of the workday. People left the city's noise behind, each returning to the embrace of their families.
"Charge! Kill them all!"
"Don't let a single one escape!"
Yet, in the backstreets of the city, within the mansion of Nagan, a hellish chaos unfolded.
"Grappling hooks—now!"
"Attack all at once!"
But the first wave of Huten's forces to scale the walls were immediately met with a hail of arrows and daggers, collapsing on the spot.
"It's a trap!"
"These bastards were prepared for an assault!"
"Damn it! No choice—keep pushing forward!"
The invaders hesitated under the defenders' siege-like formation.
Yet, driven by their superiors' threats at their backs, the foot soldiers had no choice but to keep climbing.
"Keep firing!"
"Throw the daggers!"
The defenders' resistance was fierce.
But the attackers weren't entirely helpless either.
"Shields up!"
Hulking men resembling heavy infantry advanced with raised shields, forming a small protective wall.
"Since when do underworld assassins carry shields?!"
"Says the bastard shooting arrows like a damn army!"
Yet shields alone weren't enough. The confident giants soon stumbled, their feet impaled by hidden caltrops scattered across the ground.
"GAAAAAH!"
"My—my foot!"
"These sons of bitches poisoned the caltrops too!"
Huten's officers watching from behind gritted their teeth.
"Vicious bastards."
"They came prepared."
This was practically a military stronghold.
"Nagan, that bastard..."
"To set up defenses like this in such a short time..."
No wonder he was the Godfather's second-in-command. A former mercenary who had weathered countless battlefields, his tactical prowess was on a completely different level from typical underworld gangs.
"Nock arrows again!"
Seizing the moment, the defenders loosed another volley.
"Damn it!"
Dozens more fell as arrows—imbued with faint mana—pierced throats and chests. These were no ordinary archers.
"Fall back!"
Unable to bear further losses, the squad leaders stepped forward—
"Now!"
At that moment, smoke bombs exploded as if waiting for the cue.
"?!"
The black smoke spreading rapidly wasn't just for obscuring vision.
"Poison!"
"Ghk—!"
As several strong men foamed at the mouth and collapsed, the invaders faltered in terror.
"Useless trash."
Finally, one of Huten's ‘baptized’ officers stepped forward.
"Fire!"
Arrows rained down on the reckless fool charging alone—
BOOOOM!
But as he stomped the ground, a shockwave blasted the poison smoke outward.
"What the—?!"
The sheer force shattered even the incoming arrows.
"No way—"
"He was hiding this kind of power?!"
The defenders stared in disbelief.
"What the hell did that bastard take? All of you—draw your blades!"
Yet Nagan's officers swiftly regained control, steadying their shaken men.
"Over 20% of them are already dead! This is practically our victory!"
"Ooooh!"
Swish!
Men armed with swords, spears, maces, and flails glared at the enemy with bloodlust.
"Attack!"
"Hold the line! Even if you die, defend it!"
Finally, the two sides clashed—limbs and heads sent flying through the air.
***
Zizek, Gareth, and I watched the battle from a distance.
"What’s up with them?"
Though the defenders had initially held the advantage, some of the officers now displayed unnaturally heightened strength.
"Were they always this strong?"
"No way."
"Then why are they like this?"
Even when three of the Godfather's officers ganged up on one, they struggled.
And most disturbingly—
"This is insane."
Some fought on despite deep, gut-spilling wounds or missing limbs, as if oblivious to pain—almost grotesque in their frenzy.
"Are they berserkers or something?"
It reminded me of the madmen rumored to roam the northern wastes, unfeeling of pain or death.
"Did they take some kind of drug?"
"Something’s definitely wrong."
Zizek’s expression darkened.
"From what I remember, there was barely any gap in skill between officers. So why...?"
"Did they stumble upon some power boost?"
"If so, they all look like they’ve caught rabies."
"Right?"
I nodded.
"No way something this creepy is a blessing."
Regardless, the defenders were at a disadvantage.
"They won’t last much longer."
If three officers were needed to hold off one, that meant others were left unchecked.
Sure enough, some of Huten's enhanced officers ran rampant, collapsing the defensive lines.
"Zizek, who’s that guy?"
I pointed to the most conspicuous figure, who seemed to command the others.
"...No idea. Was he always among the officers?"
Zizek frowned.
"First time seeing him?"
"Yeah."
Come to think of it, that wasn’t surprising.
"Probably one of Huten’s direct subordinates."
If Huten had been a spy from another faction all along, it made sense he’d have brought his own men. A classic infiltration tactic—nothing new to me.
'No clue what they did to them, though...'
But it seemed the takeover was already in full swing.
"Should we move in now?"
"Wait."
I raised a hand to stop Zizek.
"There might be reinforcements lying in wait. Let’s scout first."
I expanded my senses to the limit, pushing my fifth tier Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique mana outward.
And to my shock—
'What the...? Didn’t expect this.'
Not only were the security guards present—an entire knight order and the royal guards had surrounded the area.
'Why are they here?'
My chest tightened.
'...Did they already know and mobilize?'
If so, my father—Duke Georg’s eyes—were like the legendary ravens said to survey the entire world. At least within the Duchy of Grunewald.
'Then Father might...'
Learn of Karzan’s existence today.
"Hah..."
A tense sigh escaped me. I knew I’d be exposed eventually—but today?
'Stay calm.'
Steel yourself, Karzan.
I believe there’s an unspoken understanding between Father and me. Maybe he already knows about my double life. If he does, he’s tolerated it. If not...
He wouldn’t scold me just for mingling in the underworld. If anything, he’d approve of the cunning. The Georg I know would.
'Still, kinda terrifying.'
Is this how a child feels when caught misbehaving?
'Not like I’ve ever had a dad to compare.'
Maybe it’s like getting scolded by Grandpa after a street fight.
'Anyway.'
Back to the main question—why are they here?
'Are they planning to wipe everything out under the guise of underworld conflict?'
My chest tightened, but upon closer observation, they were merely controlling civilian movement without further action.
'Well, they wouldn't recklessly disrupt the balance.'
This massive trade port couldn't be governed without harmony between light and shadow. Hadn't I witnessed that truth clearly in my past life?
Considering that, this was likely just a precaution to minimize civilian casualties.
"Ah!"
Just then, Zizek shouted.
"Over there! Look out!"
The enemy commander, having broken through the layered defenses, was charging straight toward Nagan.
"Perfect. Now's the time."
If Nagan fell here, it was over. In other words—this was the most dramatic moment I'd been waiting for.
"Let's go. You two, reinforce the defensive line."
"Understood."
"Good luck."
I grinned at Zizek and Gareth before activating my movement technique.
"Think you can take me down?"
Not a chance.
I was Karzan, the Mad Dog who once roamed Flanders's underworld with nothing but a single blade.
***
Merging Scarlet Cloud Ghost Path with Whispering Snow in the Night, I cut through the enemy ranks like wind through reeds.
"?!
"Who just—"
By the time they noticed me, I was already gone.
"Move aside, you bastards!"
In this moment, I wasn't Allenvert, the noble who trained in orthodox martial arts.
I had returned to being Karzan—the blade in the night, the harbinger of blood and death.
Thud!
A splendid decapitation. One officer barely had time to turn before his head flew.
'Danger!'
Ten paces away, Nagan staggered under an attack, his sword knocked from his grasp.
But it didn't matter. My slash was faster than footsteps.
Shiiing!
The crude borrowed blade in my hand carried the essence of Azure Sea Moon Shadow Swordsmanship—its attribute: Swiftness.
Kaaang!
The slash intercepted the blade aimed at Nagan's throat, diverting it to merely graze his shoulder.
"?!
When the attacker whirled in shock, I'd already closed the ten-pace gap in an instant.
"Not happening. Stay right there."
Clangclangclang!
He barely parried my rapid strikes, focused solely on speed.
'Huh? What's with this guy?'
He blocked that?
This was a strike from me—a fifth tier expert. To counter it, he'd need at least...
"What the hell are you?!"
Equally startled, the black-clad stranger retaliated with a sword wrapped in dark aura.
'Not some amateur's skill.'
I analyzed his swordsmanship, gauging its depth.
"...!"
His panic was evident. Of course—he hadn't accounted for an unknown fighter of this caliber intervening.
Channeling Karzan's memories, I swung my sword like a true underworld killer. This style felt far more natural to me.
'But no need to limit myself.'
I intermittently mixed in reinterpreted techniques from Grunewald's martial arts to keep him off-balance.
Then—
Shing!
I replicated Mordecai's signature move, striking at his blind spot.
"Impossible!"
He recoiled in shock.
"You—how—"
Coincidence? He reacted as if he recognized this technique.
'Well, well.'
Just as my suspicion peaked—
"Damn it!"
Sensing encirclement, he retreated.
'Tch.'
I didn't pursue. He wasn't an opponent to finish quickly anyway.
"Nagan. You alright?"
Instead, I turned to the Godfather's second-in-command, who was clutching his shoulder.
"...Who the hell are you?"
His voice held equal parts wariness and curiosity.
My answer was simple.
"Zizek's friend."
"!"
Spotting Zizek in the distance, Nagan nodded slowly.
"An ally?"
"Obviously."
"Tend to that wound first."
"...Right."
Nagan efficiently applied a potion before binding the injury with torn cloth.
"Still fight-worthy. Lucky it's the left side."
"You should still rest."
He shook his head firmly.
"If I stop now, more of my men die."
"Hah."
A man of responsibility.
That single reply told me everything about his character.
"Impressive."
"...Hardly. My lack of preparation nearly got us killed."
"No need for regret."
I shook my head.
"Without whatever those bastards took, you wouldn't have needed my help. Your tactics were flawless. Heard you were a mercenary—clearly not just talk."
Nagan's expression darkened.
"Still just a sellsword."
"A veteran sellsword beats half-baked knights any day. Especially with skills like yours."
Nagan was undeniably stronger than Zizek.
"Zizek! Hold the damn line! Focus!"
I barked the order reflexively.
"I know!"
To his credit, Zizek was fighting remarkably well—thanks to my earlier help refining the spirit medicine's absorption.
After tonight, his standing in the organization would skyrocket.
'Assuming these bastards all die today, that is.'
"...Since when was Zizek this strong?"
Nagan muttered, watching Zizek's display.
No surprise there.
Not long ago, Zizek had barely reached third tier entry level. Now he was already breaking into fourth tier.
"Ask him yourself if you survive. He'll tell you."
Nagan bowed slightly.
"Thanks. ...Still don't know your name, benefactor."
"Survive, and I'll throw that in for free."
Turning away, I surveyed the battlefield.
Tactics had long since collapsed—now it was just a desperate, chaotic melee.
'...Been a while.'
Honestly? It felt like awakening a forgotten primal instinct.
'Well then, you pitiful moths drawn to the flame of bloodshed.'
Who among you would remain standing when the slaughter's spiral ended?
"Let's find out."
The rule was simple.
The last one standing wins.
Carnage begins now.
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[Translator - Pot ]
[Proofreader - Kawaii ]
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