Chapter 42
Another rider appeared, so there was no longer any need to obsess over the first man.
“Syang, that way.”
Baaaaa!
Syang galloped off with excitement. I had left my armor in Hebron, so my body felt light as we dashed forward.
The new rider stood at a higher elevation, looking down at us.
Syang charged up the steep slope without hesitation. The mounted man pulled an arrow from his back and raised a large longbow.
Whoosh—Clang!
The arrow struck Syang’s wool and bounced off harmlessly.
The man looked a little surprised, but not panicked.
He nocked another arrow on the string.
‘Aura, huh!’
The man imbued his arrow with aura. I also coated my longsword with aura and gently twisted Syang’s hair.
When Syang adjusted his direction, the arrow flew straight at me.
Clang!
Even from a fair distance, the aura-infused arrow hadn't weakened. This man had clearly mastered archery properly.
In such vast terrain, mastering aura archery must have been essential for survival.
The man covered in black fabric dropped his bow and drew his sword instead.
At that moment, Syang picked up speed. True to his mutant nature that had once terrified me, he bolted forward with explosive force.
It was only natural that the man targeted Syang with his sword.
Baaaaa!
Syang trusted me. He didn’t slow down—he kept charging full speed.
I answered that trust.
With a longsword imbued with aura, I deflected the man’s sword.
Claaang!
Syang, now accustomed to fighting beside me, matched my rhythm. He rammed the horse’s head with his horn.
Crunch!
His horn, capable of shattering rocks, crushed the horse’s skull.
The horse couldn’t handle the impact and collapsed backward.
The man tumbled to the ground, but unlike the previous one, he wasn’t crushed by his horse.
Instead, he lost sight of me. As he regained his balance and stood up, I swung my longsword at his waist.
The man’s sword moved. He used Sardian swordsmanship to block my attack. His technique was simple but heavy.
To his honest style, I responded with Breio swordsmanship.
Slice!
His right arm holding the sword was severed. He stared, dazed, at the arc traced by his own arm and sword.
His arm dropped and was soon caked with sand.
“I won’t say much. Since you’ve revealed yourselves, be prepared to face the consequences.”
From the moment they tried to assassinate me, war had begun between me and them.
They just didn’t realize it yet.
The man stared back and forth between me and his severed arm. After briefly reflecting on the swordsmanship I had used, he grit his teeth.
Grrr!
“Breio…! You bastards finally…!”
What on earth did that mean?
‘Was there a history between House Sardia and House Breio?’
Just because I was Breio’s bloodline, didn’t mean I had access to all secrets. I had reviewed most records, but many high-level documents were restricted to the lords only.
Some were accessible only after coming of age.
I turned over the three words he had just uttered in my mind. It wasn’t enough, so I pushed further—saying something that haunted me even in my dreams.
“For brilliant talent.”
“Aaaaaaaaagh!”
The man drew a dagger from his waist.
He charged at me, his arm still bleeding profusely.
He slashed wildly with the dagger, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Breio! A dog of Breio! How dare you come! How dare Breio…!”
He must’ve had allies nearby. The spot where his arm had been severed began to glimmer. The brand of the curse spread across his body became faintly visible.
I easily dodged his dagger. With his mask knocked off, he looked to be no older than his early twenties.
“Wasn’t it Sardia who fell to that lowly Breio?”
“You bastard! As if branding us traitors wasn’t enough, now you came to finish the job!”
The man had a loose tongue—not that I was complaining.
They say the enemy of your enemy is your ally, but these men were weak. Surviving over a century was impressive, but they won’t be able to pose any threat to the current Breio.
“Sardians were no better than worms.”
It was my assessment of the surviving members of House Sardia. They would've squirmed once or twice if they were worms, but they had done nothing but hole themselves up here. The best they managed was sending their brightest to serve as an aide to Delgain.
Or perhaps not even that—maybe that man called Spiel simply couldn’t stand it any longer and left the Wasteland.
“Eeeeek!”
The armless man threw everything into trying to kill me. His aura-infused archery had been impressive, but it was meaningless now—his arm was gone.
“Inferno.”
Swoooosh!
Flames consumed the man. He writhed in pain as he tried to reach me, then collapsed and died.
I collected the weapons scattered on the ground: a longbow, a longsword, and a dagger. The longbow looked hastily assembled, but the longsword and dagger were worn down.
The dagger, in particular, was no ordinary weapon.
‘Is this a weapon of House Sardia?’
I examined the sword and its sheath.
At first glance, the sheath appeared to be engraved with geometric patterns. But on closer inspection, I realized it was a form of hurried, almost scribbled writing. Parts of it were too worn to make out completely, but I could immediately identify the language.
‘This is Antarian.’
Beyond the Wasteland lay the remnants of the Kingdom of Antaria.
It was both a forsaken land and a cursed one.
Antaria had been a small kingdom. In terms of population, power, and wealth, it couldn’t compete with Xenon. Yet it had never submitted to Xenon and had held its head high—until it eventually fell to civil war and plague.
Treasure hunters had flooded the ruins afterward, but those who barely returned came back with their bodies rotting away.
Leprosy.
And so, the land to the south of the Wasteland was abandoned. Adventurers occasionally ventured there, but none ever returned.
Because of that, almost nothing of Antaria remained.
Even in House Breio, literature from Antaria was extremely rare.
‘I’ll need to take some time to study this carefully later.’
Before I knew it, another group of riders approached me. Four were on horseback. Five more were charging with Sardia Maneuvering Footwork.
“I understand your circumstances well. Today, I will kill you all. Then I’ll follow your path, claim the vacant ducal seat for Hebron, which has remained vacant since Sardia’s fall—and I swear to turn my sword against House Breio, the ones you so despise.”
Whether they heard my words didn’t matter. It wasn’t a promise to them—it was a vow to myself.
I stripped off my cumbersome clothing.
I didn’t need the disguise anymore—they sought me out on their own. Beyond those nine, more figures had begun to converge on me, all coming from the same direction.
‘They’ve all been living desperately, haven’t they?’
I recognized the textbook form of Sardia Maneuvering Footwork. The men crossed the Wasteland swiftly—their technique was impressive.
‘Swordsmanship designed for mountainous terrain won’t reach its full potential out here.’
Even so, to hone their skills this much in such harsh land… their lives couldn’t have been easy.
–Living desperately means nothing. If you don’t become the best, you’ll be forgotten.
Even when I tried to cut ties, Breio lived on inside me.
Their ideology ruled me.
But I couldn’t fully embrace Hebron’s ideals either.
–It’s okay to be wrong. No, there is no wrong to begin with. Trust your instincts. As I trust you, you must trust yourself. My son, walk your path.
Those were the words of my father who helped me surpass the limits of aura cultivation. Words that proved Hebron was right.
But those were also words only the ones at the top could afford to say.
If the Sardia bloodline had endured for over a century, they should’ve continued to do just that—endure. They should never, not even in dreams, have considered assassinating a noble recognized by the Kingdom of Xenon.
“Syang, go!”
Baaaa!
Syang cried out and kicked off the ground.
At that very moment, a bolt of lightning struck where we had been standing.
Crack! Boom!
The lightning that slammed into the Earth arced toward Syang and me. We were lucky to dodge it—had it struck directly, we’d have been roasted alive.
‘A mage!’
There was a mage among them. Not one of those running with Sardia Maneuvering Footwork—it had to be one of the four on horseback.
“Inferno, go wild!”
Magic must be countered with magic.
The mage was muttering incessantly, trying to cast another spell. Typically, high-tier magic couldn’t be cast while riding a galloping horse.
Boom!
The giant Inferno rose and unleashed a barrage of fireballs. The large flaming fireballs flew at the enemy ranks, startling the galloping horses.
Horses were naturally timid animals. To train them for combat, they needed to be desensitized and conditioned to obey their rider’s commands only. But their horses hadn’t been properly trained.
As they reared and panicked, the mage was rendered unable to cast further spells.
The mage fell from his horse, and a man with a sword dismounted to protect him.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The fireballs struck both the mage and the swordsman trying to shield him.
The charred man collapsed, revealing the mage. Though scorched by the flames, he frantically tried to extinguish the fire clinging to his staff.
BOOOOM!
A fireball struck the mage square in the face. He didn’t even have time to cast a defensive spell before he was blown backward.
SWOOSH!
Inferno used my aura as fuel and incinerated the enemies.
In a place like the Wasteland, where water was hard to come by, Inferno was a walking disaster.
Thud!
Now that the only mage capable of opposing the spirit had a sword buried in his chest, that disaster would stick to reality and draw a vivid hellscape.
“There’s no need to let them live. Kill them all.”
Baaaaaa!
Every time Syang rampaged, his glowing eyes left afterimages in the air. With each streak of crimson light, bones shattered and blood sprayed.
The once-cowardly Syang could now fight even against living beings. Just like when we had fought before, he went berserk.
BOOOOM! BOOM! BOOOOM!
Inferno fought brilliantly as well. The fire-attribute aura it absorbed from me was now far more refined than before. My energy intensified Inferno’s flames.
Only three men remained.
Despite suffering severe burns, they fought on desperately, as if they were knights.
“Enough.”
At my gesture, both Inferno and Syang ceased their attacks.
I looked around at the three men and spoke.
“Your swordsmanship is poor. It looks like you tried to modify the Sardian swordsmanship to overcome the techniques created by Breio. That was your mistake. You should’ve taken the traditional swordsmanship passed down your line and mastered it to its utmost limits.”
With a nod of my chin, the three men charged at me.
They used Sardian swordsmanship. A version close to the original—yet still only a shell, a twisted imitation. Their technique was not supported by a proper aura cultivation method. Nor were they gifted enough to make up for it.
It was inevitable.
Even in House Breio, no one could surpass limits through raw talent and passion alone. Such feats were possible only for once-in-a-generation geniuses—and when the person wasn’t one, they needed a genius teacher and extraordinary support to reach the peak.
