The Indomitable Martial King

With light footsteps, someone was running from beyond the mist. With each step, the distance rapidly closed. Though the mist made it difficult to see clearly, it was obvious from their movements alone that the person had far surpassed the limits of a normal human.

It was an Aura User.

“Krr?”

Sensing the presence of another powerful figure, Sepiatan turned its head. Both Klat and Sepiatan fixed their gazes on the same spot.

Soon, the figure emerged from the mist.

A young man, holding a sword with a flickering yellowish aura in one hand.

“Hup!”

Without a word, the young man let out a short breath and launched himself directly at Sepiatan. Sepiatan, already on guard, swung its greatsword to counterattack. The moment the greatsword clashed with the young man’s sword…

“Spiral Blade!”

The young man’s aura began to shine brilliantly and spin. His sword transformed into a massive drill-like weapon that shattered Sepiatan’s greatsword and drove into the heart of the beast.

Scales shattered, fragments scattered, and blue blood spurted into the air like a fountain. Sepiatan let out a scream.

“Kraaaah!”

It was an astonishing display of power. The single strike from the unknown young man inflicted more damage than the dozens of attacks Klat had struggled to land thus far.

“Wh-who is he? Who’s that person? Could there be someone so young who’s awakened an aura?”

The first thought that came to Klat’s mind was Cyrus, the Aura User from the Duchy of Antares, who had recently risen to fame in the Crovence civil war.

But the appearance of the dark-haired young man was entirely different from Cyrus. Starting with his hair color, the youth’s appearance was breathtaking, to the point where one could call him a beauty of unparalleled grace.

It’s rare to call a man “stunning,” a title usually reserved for beautiful women. If Cyrus had looks of this caliber, there would’ve been no way such details about his face wouldn’t have spread in the rumors.

“Haah!”

The dark-haired young man continued to swing his sword, spinning the blade aura as he relentlessly pressed Sepiatan. The situation was so overwhelming that Klat stood there in a daze, watching the scene unfold. He barely managed to regain his composure and was about to leap in to join the battle when…

“You must be Sir Klat, the captain of the Chatan Royal Guard, correct?”

A soft, feminine voice echoed from behind. The female mage who had cast the magical mist earlier had somehow approached Klat without him noticing. Normally, his senses would have alerted him, but the spectacle in front of him had stunned him enough to lower his guard momentarily.

“Wh-who are you?”

“I am Philena, from the Delphia Tower of Magic. I came here at the invitation of the King Regent.”

“Ah… thank you for your assistance. I am Klat, Captain of the Chatan Royal Guard.”

Klat stammered as he politely offered his greeting. Though he didn’t fully grasp the situation, it was clear that these people were on his side.

“Given the urgency of the situation, I apologize for not greeting you more formally, Mage Philena.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Klat prepared to reenter battle. But Philena stopped him.

“We’ll handle that demon. Sir Klat, please deal with the demon inside the palace. While I’ve managed to extinguish the immediate danger, the damage is still extensive.”

“But…”

Klat hesitated, glancing between Sepiatan and the interior of the palace. As a knight, he wasn’t accustomed to leaving his opponent to someone else. But as a commander, he recognized that this wasn’t the time for stubborn pride.

“My apologies. I leave it in your hands.”

With a stern nod, Klat gripped his sword and dashed towards the palace. As expected of an Aura User, he leaped dozens of meters in a single bound and disappeared into the mist.

Philena scratched her cheek as she watched Klat’s retreating figure.

‘Honestly, it would’ve been faster if the two Aura Users teamed up to take down this demon before moving on to the next one…’

However, there was a reason Philena had specifically sent him to the palace.

“Because from this point on, this isn’t something you should witness.”

She turned to face the enormous silhouette of the demon, faintly visible through the mist. The figure of a man wielding a glowing sword moved swiftly against the towering shadow.

Philena shouted out.

“Teslon! Should I throw you the bag?”

A relaxed voice responded from within the mist.

“I can handle it fine like this!”

“But wouldn’t it be good practice?”

At Philena’s suggestion, the young man chuckled.

“Haha, that’s true. Alright! Toss it!”

“Got it! Teslon!”

Philena rummaged through the inside of her robe and pulled out a small case. It was a simple, square leather bag that looked entirely ordinary. Using magic, she hurled it deep into the mist.

“Catch it, Teslon!”

The square case disappeared into the thick mist, and moments later, strange metallic sounds echoed from within.

Vrrr, whirr, clank, clank!

In the white mist, which reflected Sepiatan’s shadow, the silhouette of a towering giant emerged. The demon’s voice, filled with alarm, came from beyond the mist.

“K-krel?”

Following the shadow of the giant, the laid-back voice of the young man was heard again.

“As expected, anything needs practice to feel natural.”

The shadow of the giant overlapped with Sepiatan’s shadow. With every clash, the mist turned red, and the demon’s form twisted grotesquely. Groans and roars filled the air as trees shook and a deafening rumble spread through the surroundings.

Bang! Bang! Crunch! Crack!

Shortly after, a harrowing scream burst from Sepiatan.

“Kraaaaaaah!”

* * *

At the heart of the Chatan Royal Palace, in a lavish office decorated with golden accents and elegant furniture, a man in his fifties was looking out the window. His luxurious clothing, embroidered with gold, made it clear that he was no ordinary individual. As he gazed outside, he suddenly turned to look beside him.

“Sage of Silver, has everything gone as you wished?”

A small, silver-haired girl standing next to him nodded her head with an expressionless face.

“Yes, King of Chatan. I am grateful for your cooperation.”

The man, Natin II, King of the Duchy of Chatan, stared at the silver-haired girl with a grim expression. He spoke in a displeased tone.

“But because of that, Zeppelin suffered considerable damage. Had I known beforehand, I could have been better prepared.”

The silver-haired girl, Serelein, fixed her gaze on Natin II. She asked in a detached tone.

“Heir to the blood of Chatan, do you regret assisting the Sage of Silver?”

The man hurriedly shook his head.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant. It’s only natural to cooperate, as is our family’s duty, in accordance with the long-standing tradition.”

Despite being a king, Natin II displayed an overly submissive attitude. But he knew better than anyone that if the Sage of Silver wished it, the Duchy of Chatan could be wiped from existence. After all, it was with their help that this land, once part of the Kingdom of Graim, became the Duchy of Chatan in the first place.

“However, I’m simply curious as to why you allowed things to escalate to this point, even knowing their plans, Guardian Serelein. As a collaborator of the Silver, I believe I have the right to know at least that much.”

Serelein stared at him intently before nodding slightly and speaking.

“The ones who infiltrated Zeppelin are the highest-ranking elites loyal to the Fist King. They are the true powers behind the Duchy of Antares. Normally, they’re scattered all over the duchy, and unless we provoke an all-out war, they’re impossible to take down.”

Serelein turned her gaze back to the window, looking out over the city of Zeppelin, now illuminated by flames, and spoke softly.

“But now, they’ve left their strongholds and gathered here by their own choice. Isn’t this the perfect chance to catch them all at once?”

* * *

A street in the southern district of Zeppelin.

It was late at night, a time when no one but the night watch should be out, yet the streets were filled with the chaotic sound of footsteps. Hundreds of escaped orcs, elves, and dwarves, all armed, were running through the streets.

“Huff, huff, huff…”

“I can’t… catch my breath…”

“I can’t run any more…”

No matter how strong their desire for freedom was, for slaves who hadn’t been trained, this frantic run in the dead of night was exhausting. Especially when driven by fear and anxiety, the run became even more grueling.

Even the orcs, accustomed to hard labor, were showing signs of fatigue, and many of the weaker elves had already collapsed along the way.

Jalkato and the warriors of the Blue Bear Tribe were doing their best to encourage those who were struggling.

“Keep going!”

“I know it’s tough! But we can’t stop here!”

The slaves who had escaped from various places were merging as planned, forming a massive group throughout Zeppelin. However, this was beginning to create new challenges. When the group was small, if one or two collapsed, they could be helped along, but when the group numbered in the hundreds, it became a different story.

At the head of the group, Karuga Hadatoum, an orc aura user, looked up to check the position of the moon.

“We’re cutting it close. If we want to reach the gates in time, we’ll have to hurry.”

Currently, ten Aura Users from the Duchy of Antares had been deployed to Zeppelin. Apart from Repenhardt and Russ, the remaining eight were spread across different regions, leading groups of escaped slaves. Hadatoum was in charge of one such group, guiding Jalkato and the orcs, as well as joining forces with the Stiria Tribe elves, who had freed the elves.

Jalkato approached Hadatoum, shaking his head.

“If we don’t slow down, we’ll have stragglers, Karuga Hadatoum.”

Hadatoum clicked his tongue in frustration.

“If we dawdle, the army will be deployed, and that’ll be a headache.”

The ones leading this group were Hadatoum, the orc warriors, and the elf warriors from the Dahnhaim and Stiria Tribes. So far, they had swiftly dealt with all forces blocking their way. The local law enforcement stationed in Zeppelin was no match for an Aura User like Hadatoum and the elite warriors of the Duchy of Antares.

However, if the army was deployed, even Hadatoum, as an Aura User, wouldn’t be able to protect the hundreds of escaped slaves. Despite being armed, they weren’t an organized military force. Once battle broke out, countless lives would be lost amidst the chaos.

One of the elves from the Stiria Tribe approached Hadatoum.

“If we follow Karl’s plan, we should still have some time before they mount a full response. Perhaps we should allow a brief rest?”

Compared to the orcs, who were more physically resilient, many of the elves were showing signs of extreme exhaustion. Hadatoum clicked his tongue again, acknowledging that the elf’s suggestion had merit.

“There’s no time to sit down and rest. But, we can afford to slow the pace a bit.”

The frantic sound of running that had filled the night streets began to subside, replaced by the steady rhythm of calmer footsteps. With the pace slowed, Hadatoum led the group onward through the streets.

As they remained vigilant, crossing two blocks, they finally reached a large plaza where the city gates became visible in the distance.

“…!”

Hadatoum’s expression hardened. Through his senses, he could detect over a hundred people stationed at the other end of the plaza. There was no mistaking it—the disciplined, orderly presence unmistakably belonged to a well-trained regular army.

The soldiers swiftly moved into position, blocking the path of the escaped slaves. Hadatoum ground his teeth as the road to the city gates was cut off.

And that wasn’t all. From the surrounding buildings, archers suddenly appeared, their bows drawn and aimed at the group of escapees. The expressions of Jalkato and the other orc warriors hardened as they took in the sight.

A commanding officer emerged from the ranks of soldiers and let out a loud, mocking laugh.

“This is the end for you miserable wretches! Hahaha!”

“Ugh…”

Groaning, Hadatoum scanned the left and right sides of the plaza. He had sensed the presence of people in those buildings for some time. As an Aura User blessed by the Spirit of Debata, his enhanced senses allowed him to detect such things with ease.

The problem was that no matter how sensitive his perception was, it couldn’t distinguish whether the people in the buildings were soldiers or ordinary citizens.

This wasn’t a remote mountain hideout; it was Zeppelin, one of the most populous cities on the continent. Up until now, every building they had passed had housed Zeppelin citizens. Naturally, he had assumed that the presences around the plaza were just more local residents.