Chapter 18
The dye was cast. This battle was only the beginning. Hebron would reclaim its former glory, stand shoulder to shoulder with Breio, and eventually surpass them. Even if that meant seizing the throne itself, I was determined to make it happen.
As I stepped outside the lord’s manor, the soldiers stood waiting in full gear. Behind them, dozens of carriages were lined up.
Serpens' merchant group was in charge of logistics, which meant Hebron’s military supplies were under the guard of his escorts.
I drew my sword.
All eyes turned to me. They were waiting for my words.
“To the heavens!”
When House Hebron first took root on this land, we had a battle cry—one that made our enemies tremble.
Shing! Clack!
The soldiers of Hebron raised their weapons in unison.
Even the slave soldiers seemed to know what to do.
“Smile!”
—To the heavens, with a smile.
I never knew why our founder chose such a slogan, but one thing was certain—we never cast our gaze downward.
We looked up. At the sky, a dazzling blue that made our eyes sting.
* * *
We advanced swiftly along the well-cleared road. What used to take a full day of hacking through underbrush now took merely four hours. The Hebron forces passed through the eastern forest in record time.
After a brief rest deep within the woods, we approached the soldiers blocking the forest exit.
“I am Louis de Hebron. I declare war on Baron Nurha. You have invaded my territory, sent knights and troops to intimidate my knight. In the name of Hebron, I shall hold you accountable. Baron Nurha—come out and receive my sword!”
“Uh… Young Lord Louis de Hebron? What are you talking about—”
Schwick!
I cut the soldier’s throat.
The ones behind him stared at me in shock.
“Soldiers who ignore a declaration of war deserve death. I conveyed my will, and he answered with, ‘What are you talking about?’ Foolishness—that was his crime.”
Three soldiers exchanged glances, then dropped their weapons and raised their hands.
“Tie them up!”
I let them live on purpose.
They would serve as witnesses to all that was about to happen.
They allowed themselves to be tied without resistance. Clearly, they valued their lives more than their loyalty—proof of poor training.
“Advance!”
Hebron had only two warhorses. One was Matiz, treasured by Sir Brown. The other was Hans, once a draft horse, now turned into a warhorse for the battlefield.
Dududududu!
Sir Brown and I charged forward on horseback.
Hebron’s soldiers ran behind us, raising twin banners high.
Nurha’s domain was surrounded by three walls. The outermost one was a wooden fence meant to repel monsters. Two spear-wielding guards stood between the zigzagged defenses.
Though two of Nurha’s knights had already fallen, the rest of the defenses remained slack.
They hadn’t expected a duel between knights to escalate into a full-scale war.
The guards chatted casually, only noticing us at the last moment.
One of them recognized me.
“Y-Young Lord Hebron?”
“Surrender your weapons!”
Brown shouted, but the guards simply stood there dumbfounded. Hebron soldiers caught up, disarmed them, and tied them up.
Dududududu!
Brown and I rode for the inner wall beyond the fence. At the wide-open gate, a few soldiers stood dumbfounded, weapons still sheathed, unable to react in time.
“Stop them!”
Nurha’s defense wasn’t entirely useless— Four archers stood atop the wall, bowstrings drawn and aimed at us.
Panicked soldiers thrust out their spears, trying to block our path. The knight stationed at the gate drew his sword.
“Inferno.”
Swoooooosh!
Inferno swept across the battlements.
The moment arrows of Nurha’s archers cut through the air, the enemy soldiers fled inside the gate.
“Close the gates!”
Clang!
I grabbed the lance strapped to Hans’ saddle.
Clack!
The gate, once wide open in false welcome, began to close.
To shut the heavy doors, they’d need several men pulling at once.
The arched gate, four meters high, was slowly but surely closing.
Shweeek! Thud!
One of the soldiers pulling from inside was thrown back.
“Inferno!”
Inferno shot through the narrowing gap in the gate, asserting its presence.
Swooooosh!
A mid-tier fire spirit held power equivalent to that of a fifth-class mage—a force far beyond what a mere baron’s army could handle.
Had Nurha’s forces known in advance, they might’ve mustered a response. But the barony had grown too used to peace.
They never imagined that the young lord of Hebron would launch a full-scale assault.
DING! DING! DING!
The bells of Nurha’s tower rang out in a frenzied alarm.
The standing army was being assembled. Soldiers sprinted to the training grounds.
But it was already too late—the gate hadn’t been closed in time.
“Kill the spirit summoner! Kill that bastard!”
A knight on the other side of the wall shouted. Instead of a sword, he held a bow. From within the inferno’s blaze, he drew the string to its fullest and released.
Shweeek—CLANG!
I deflected the arrow with my sword. At the same moment, the knight’s hair caught fire—Inferno’s flames surged around him.
“Graaah!”
The knight, not entirely witless, rushed to attack Inferno’s core. Even seemingly futile attacks could reduce a summoner’s mana and weaken their spirit.
His desperate strikes forced Inferno to pull back.
It twisted in midair, ignoring the knight now, and turned its blazing wrath on the soldiers who had yet to abandon their weapons.
“I am Brown of House Hebron. I challenge you to a knight’s duel.”
Dismounting from Matiz, Brown stepped onto the threshold of the gate and pointed his sword. The charred knight, now browless and blackened, glared back.
“Hyah!”
I passed through the gate.
The soldiers didn’t even try to block me. Inferno clung to my side, flinging fireballs without pause.
BOOM! BOOM!
With each fiery blast, two or three soldiers were flung aside.
Nurha may have been wealthy, but not foolish enough to expand its military in times of peace. They had invested in trade instead, stationing most troops along the trade routes.
“Aaaagh!”
The townsfolk screamed and scattered. They slammed shut their wooden windows and bolted their doors. Soon, even the screaming faded.
Only soldiers with weapons remained in the streets.
Some still tried to speak to me. It was clear they weren’t entirely convinced I was an enemy.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Are you not Young Lord Louis de Hebron?”
“This is Baron Nurha’s land!”
I raised my left hand.
The soldiers flinched and fell silent. From behind them, a knight came running, barely armored, panting.
“I am Louis de Hebron. You invaded my land, erected barricades, and stationed knights and soldiers on my soil. They dared intimidate my knight—but brave Sir Brown defeated two of them. I declared war on the trespassers, yet they dared mock me, replying, ‘What are you talking about?’ Their words and actions dragged Hebron’s honor through the mud.”
The soldiers murmured among themselves.
They questioned whether I was right—or where things had gone wrong.
‘Fools.’
If I lost this battle, my words would become lies. But if I won, my words would become true.
“Inferno—dwell into my blade!”
SWOOOOOSH!
My raised sword burst into flame. The knight who saw it narrowed his eyes.
He seemed convinced he could still defeat me in a duel.
“Once, Nurha was a vassal of Hebron. For the sake of our old ties, I offer you a chance. Surrender! Those who wish to live—flee. Go far, then return and surrender. I will accept you as soldiers of Hebron!”
The soldiers hesitated. The real battle hadn’t begun yet.
And right now, they had no commander.
Of the three knights present, one was occupied with Brown, one was too young to judge clearly, and the last was so old, it was doubtful he could even swing a sword properly.
Dududududu!
A single horse galloped from a distance. Its rider was fully armored, charging with a lance.
A knight in full plate spurred his horse with furious kicks, shouting as he came.
“I am Alberto, knight of Baron Nurha! I challenge you to a knight’s duel!”
He was said to have continued serving Nurha even after retirement.
Once a famed warrior in his youth—but that was long past. I could see the tip of his lance wobbling slightly as he rode.
“I accept.”
“You insolent wretch!”
Alberto shouted through the gap in his helmet.
He was enraged that I had dismounted from Hans.
Watching a lance duel from horseback was considered part of noble etiquette in House Breio. Even if the sight of blood and torn flesh made one uneasy, we were expected to sit upright in the Breio family’s reserved seats and witness the sacrifice of knights whose loyalty burned away like candlelight.
Dududududu!
Alberto and his warhorse charged like a rampaging bull. The ground quaked, and the air trembled. That tremor began at my feet and surged up to my heart.
‘A fine resonance.’
The rumors of Alberto’s fame in his prime must have been true.
A century ago, the Kingdom of Xenon had three ducal houses.
That was before the fall of House Sardia for high treason.
House Sardia, with its harsh mountainous terrain, was ill-suited to cavalry.
Sardia’s knights, adapting to the landscape, developed a swordsmanship and footwork style to match.
The Sardia Maneuvering Footwork.
A technique for rapid short-distance movement, channeling aura into the lower body.
Pababababak!
I ran forward, narrowing the gap between me and Alberto. He was startled by my sudden appearance—his already-tilted lance dropped lower.
That was his fatal mistake.
Tak!
I leapt into the air. Alberto tracked me with his eyes, but his long jousting lance couldn’t follow. Even with aura, a human body loses strength with age—and with it, the hard-earned control over aura fades.
Crack!
My knee smashed into his face. Alberto was hurled several meters through the air, crashing down with a sickening sound.
Boom!
“Shweek!”
I pointed my blazing sword at his throat.
“If you rise again, your name will be erased. Forever.”
His pupils shook.
This aged knight had lived for honor. The reason he had postponed retirement and continued to serve Nurha was likely to carve his name into history.
“…..I surrender.”
“Nurha is rich in loyal men! I have defeated his faithful knight—Sir Alberto, once renowned across this land! Who’s next? Who will test my sword?!”
I pointed my sword at the young knight across the courtyard. Even from over fifty meters away, he recoiled, clutching his neck as if it had already been cut off.
Thud!
He fell over. And with that, Nurha’s morale shattered.
“Sir Brown of House Hebron has defeated Nurha’s knight, Adol!”
Brown had also emerged victorious.
Now, only one knight remained in Baron Nurha.
