Chapter 207
Crash!
At the sound of the thunderous noise, Ian and Romandro both turned their heads simultaneously. They had parked their carriage beside the corpse, waiting inside for reinforcements from the palace. The makeshift tent was far too cramped to share with the guards, and besides, Romandro detested being near dead bodies, so he stayed away.
Ian pulled back the curtain of the window facing the noise. The surroundings were still shrouded in darkness.
“It seems to be coming from the west.”
“Could it be Varsabe?”
“Whether it’s her or the ones in black armor, it has to be one of the two. I can feel Captain Jaret’s magic strongly. It’s a different level of power than when we faced Beric.”
Pressing his forehead against the cold glass, Ian muttered to himself.
It wasn’t just Jaret. Faint but rapidly converging magical energies were gathering from all directions, as if signaling each other to unite.
Romandro studied Ian’s pale face with concern.
“You really should return to the palace first. You’re exhausted, and you’ve been soaked by the rain. I worry about your health.”
“We all got wet. If I get too tired, I’ll let you know. Don’t worry so much.”
Ian smiled and looked out the window again. Two guards were smoking by the corpse’s head. Their breath—or was it smoke?—obscured their expressions.
Watching them, Ian quietly called Romandro over.
“…I know Chetur isn’t heavily populated, but is it usually this deserted?”
The area was lined with factories, big and small. If there were workers during the day, surely some worked at night too. Yet, since arriving, Ian had seen only two or three people in several hours.
Romandro clicked his pocket watch and replied thoughtfully.
“It’s usually not this empty, but the weather’s rough. If you’re unlucky, the basement floods or the roof leaks. This place is a mess every time they tear down and rebuild the warehouses, per contract.”
The goods stored changed with the seasons. The buildings were designed to be easily assembled and dismantled, so who’d want to stay behind doing overtime in bad weather? Come morning, repairs would be underway everywhere—a common sight in Chetur.
“Such inefficiency.”
“Can’t be helped. The area’s finely divided, and it’s basically the commercial hub of the central region. The tenants renting the warehouses change so often, it’s chaos every year.”
Tap tap. Ian paused as raindrops tapped the window. Is that why it’s so quiet? Despite the loud noise, not a single building had its lights on. Did everyone mistake it for thunder?
Click.
The carriage door opened, and a fierce wind and rain swept in. Romandro pulled his collar up to shield his face and grabbed Ian’s sleeve.
“Ian?”
“Romandro, wait here for the palace guards and guide them west.”
“And you?”
“I’m going to check out the source of that noise.”
“Can’t I come with you?”
“…I don’t trust those guards.”
The guards standing under the tent were watching Ian suspiciously, as if wondering why he was stepping out into the storm. Romandro frowned and quietly asked again, though the rain would drown out his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Not the guards themselves, but their superiors. Romandro, please stay and keep watch. I’ll be back soon.”
Snap!
While Romandro mulled over Ian’s words, Ian stepped out of the carriage without an umbrella and turned decisively toward the source of the noise. The strong magical energy made it easy to find his way.
Pat pat!
Whoosh—
Watching Ian’s figure disappear into the rain, Romandro slowly closed the carriage door and began watching the guards through the gap in the curtain.
If only the rain would let up. The sky seemed torn open, pouring down an unrelenting torrent.
One, two, three…
Jaret roughly counted the black-armored soldiers. About ten, give or take. That was, assuming no more reinforcements arrived.
The palace guards, having struck once, held their positions, awaiting their captain’s orders.
Thud thud!
“They’re as tough as five men. If our forces scatter, we have no chance. Didn’t they say Riama died facing ten alone? Then…”
Ziiing. Ziiing.
Magic surged explosively around Jaret. The driving rain couldn’t reach him, breaking apart on contact. A deep silence settled. The eerie feeling of standing alone in another world made the enemies hesitate and look up at him.
Jaret raised his hand to the sky.
Rumble rumble rumble!
Crash!
Thunder tore through the heavens. A bright beam of light shimmered at Jaret’s fingertips, transforming into the shape of a sword.
Flash!
Lightning struck down. It was as if the bolt from the sky was held in his grasp.
In the darkness, Jaret’s eyes gleamed with fierce determination, steam rising from his heated breath.
“Copent.”
The code name for their tactic. Since individual combat was hopeless, they would simultaneously strike the target under Jaret’s command. They swiftly formed ranks and leapt into the air.
Whoosh!
In an instant, the rain parted along their path.
Jaret swung his massive sword with all his might, aiming for the neck of an armored foe. To reinforce the central strike, his men channeled their magic in unison, swinging their swords together.
Crash! Bang!
Crack!
“Arrgh!”
Flash, flash! The wet streets reflected the light, dazzling and relentless. One by one, but all together, the palace guards repeated the tactic called Copent, striking down their foes.
Clang! Clang!
Finally, a helmet shattered.
The knight inside stared in horror, facing Jaret. Stripped of his armor, he was nothing more than an ant before the magic swordsmen.
Without hesitation, Jaret beheaded him.
Thud.
The head rolled to the feet of others. The blood that had spouted was diluted by the rain, fading away. Soon, your blood will vanish just the same, Jaret silently warned, raising his sword.
Slash!
“Six of us striking two blows at once can break a helmet.”
Experience had taught them well. Though they’d been wary after defeating the three-star captain Riama, it seemed less difficult than expected.
Threatening as it was, Riama had no awareness of the enemy, while Jaret could gauge their strength with each coordinated strike.
“We need at least six men per enemy. To wipe them out, the entire palace guard must be deployed, but if we take them down one by one, we can manage.”
“Stick together! Don’t let them attack all at once!”
“Cover each other’s front and back!”
“Damn it, it’s the captain! Watch out for him!”
“Grab an arm or a leg—if we catch one, we gain the advantage!”
But the enemy, facing life and death, found a way to turn the tide. The flow had completely shifted. Now it was a battle of groups, and the key was which side’s coordination would falter first.
Jaret roared and charged again.
“Ugh!”
“Protect the captain!”
“Guard him! Copent!”
“Three on the left, two on the right!”
“Form up! If we stick together, we win!”
Clang! Clang!
As Jaret attacked, countless blows collided, parried, and pierced. When someone blocked a strike aimed at Jaret, an armored foe slipped through the gap, only to be pushed back by a comrade. In the chaos, neither side could see clearly, but their clashes balanced precariously.
Whoosh!
“Ah, damn.”
“Damn it, captain!”
“Don’t fall back!”
“Keep pressing the attack!”
Rumble rumble rumble.
Thunder swallowed their chaos. Amidst the screams, crashes, and cries, the only sound that reached their ears was the sky’s roar.
The palace guards protecting Varsabe rushed into the fray, while she lay collapsed, watching. Each flash of lightning revealed glimpses of her comrades’ backs—fierce, relentless, like snapshots flickering on and off.
If only I could move—
If only she could get up and join them, shedding blood together. Lying here alone was unbearable.
If only I could bind those bastards—
She clenched her fist desperately, willing to subdue them faster than the storm.
Then, a calm voice rang out.
“Manyo.”
Ian’s voice, clear and pure despite the chaos, carried through the magic binding spell he had used before to restrain Marib at the palace.
Rumble rumble rumble!
Shhh.
The otherworldly magic tree swiftly ensnared the armored legion. Taken by surprise, they all turned their heads toward the ancient branches.
Ian smiled as he lifted Varsabe with one hand.
“Is there really no one in the Royal Guard who can use binding magic? Unless, of course, you all just enjoy fighting in the rain.”
“Well, Captain Riama is our main caster.”
“So no one else can use it if she’s not available?”
“Ian, you are the Minister of Magic, aren’t you?”
Barsabe answered, her voice strained. It was like a scholar lecturing a student. They were swordmages, not full-fledged mages. Hearing this from the highest magical authority in Bariel, the Minister of Magic, left Ian speechless.
Ian glanced at her wounds, then gave an order to Jerat.
“We can’t hold them off for long. As you can see, I haven’t slept in days either. We need to wrap this up quickly.”
A sharp buzzing filled the air.
Ian’s golden eyes darkened further—a clear sign he was pouring all his magical energy into maintaining the spell.
The armored legion shifted and twisted, trying to break free from the trees, but it was no easy task. Jerat and the Royal Guard took a step back, creating some distance.
Thwack!
“Oh, by the way, is there anyone among you who fought the red-haired swordsman in The Meilidaily?”
The question came out of nowhere. Instead of answering, the armored legion launched a fierce counterattack, severing the magical bindings.
Crack!
“Too bad. If there had been, I would have spared them.”
Barsabe clutched her side, frowning as if to say, What does that even mean? Ian caught her gaze and smiled faintly.
“Beric has a habit of returning the favor in kind.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“He’ll make a fuss about finding his armor the moment he wakes up. There’s no better way to grow than to win after a loss.”
“…He’s not dead, is he?”
“Unfortunately, he barely survived.”
“Did the special report go through?”
“Thankfully, yes. Thanks to you.”
Barsabe relaxed, relief washing over her. If they could just make it back alive with their comrades, it would all be over. Her part in this was done.
“…Ha. Haha.”
“Jerat, subdue them all. I don’t care if some of them die.”
Snap!
Their enemies were bound. Jerat and the guards raised their hands to the sky in a solemn oath, then unleashed a simultaneous assault.
Boom! Crash!
Flash!
“Huh? What’s that?”
Romandro, watching westward from the carriage, noticed the sky suddenly brighten. Like the sun rising and bursting forth in the dark night.
An explosion that would chase away the long, dark night.