Chapter 408
Order Amid Chaos. War Within Order.

It was a strange sight. Three nations, countless races, and even the shells of magical beasts were all tangled together, yet each recognized their place, maintaining a fragile balance in the war.

Soldiers willingly formed shields for one another, while the demon swordsmen, spotting the arrival of the Atan tribe, leapt up in unison, becoming blades themselves. The mages in the sky never took their eyes off the slowly stirring corpses of the magical beasts.

“Bring me over there!” Hasha shouted amid the confusion. The synthetic magical beast he had been controlling had long since exploded at its core and returned to the earth. That meant the corpse linked to him was now useless—Atan necromancers would need time and effort to animate a new one.

Better to seize it first and drag it over here. Two mages, understanding Hasha’s intent, lifted him up.

Clang! Clang!

“How close do we need to get?”

“Closest is best, but for now, let’s get as near as possible. First priority is to see what kind of magical beast the Atan have brought. If it’s something truly absurd, then we’re in big trouble.”

Whoosh!

Bang!

Startled, Hasha turned his head. A blur was rushing toward the Burgos commander.

It was Ian. Supported by other mages, he charged straight into the heart of the battle without hesitation. Dozens, even hundreds of soldiers blocked his path, but Ian’s assault never faltered. Enemy blood soaked his hair, cheeks, and neck, vivid and unmistakable.

“Ughhh!”

Pant, pant.

A soldier’s arms were severed, blood spurting like a fountain.

Ian crouched low, breathing heavily. When his stamina waned, he used magic; when he needed to conserve magic, he relied on his physical strength. Despite the chaos in his mind, his balance of offense was nearly perfect.

—“Uncle Ian, you shouldn’t do that. Lower your body more. Otherwise, you expose your side to the enemy, making counterattacks harder.”

—“It’s difficult. I can’t move as I want.”

—“Practice. Everyone struggles at first. But you have some talent. Next time you feel frustrated or want to unleash something inside, hold your sword like this. If the user sees your magic again, it’ll be a disaster—you’ll be kicked out to the slums. You don’t want that, right?”

—“Yes, I’ll do that. By the way, Crony, what happened to the user who saw my magic?”

—“Don’t worry about that. Now, try again. Hold the sword.”

Ian clenched his fists, recalling the first time he held a wooden sword in Crony’s backyard. The gentle corrections, the praise—it was vivid in his mind.

Sometimes, no matter how much he wanted to erase those memories, he couldn’t. They had piled up, layer upon layer, shaping who he was now. Memories he couldn’t discard.

Whoosh!

Tommy slowly disappeared into the crowd of soldiers.

When you open a crack in your heart, relationships fade with time. Following their own fates, some show their backs, some their faces, and some vanish like the wind.

Ian, drenched in blood, fixed his gaze on Tommy. A rough breath escaped him, along with a sigh heavy with regret. Once again, he was throwing himself into the storm of relationships. Once again, he was letting people close enough to disrupt his fate.

“Hold the line! He’s starting to tire!”

“Ugh, aaargh!”

“Quick, lead the charge!”

Ian wiped his chin with the back of his hand. Blood mixed with saliva dripped down.

Damon grabbed Tommy by the hair, retreating steadily, then ordered more mages to be brought. Tommy’s body kept going limp—he was a poor choice for a hostage.

“Hurry! Move!”

“Bring two more mages!”

“Ian! Keep coming this way and I’ll cut all three of your heads off at once! And mark my words—you can’t beat me!”

Clang! Clang!

Ian ignored Damon’s threats, swinging his sword relentlessly. He would not waver. No matter what whispers came, he would be drenched in blood for Bariel alone.

Countless lives brushed past the tip of Ian’s blade as he leapt forward.

Shriiik!

A massive crow swooped past Ian. Its gaping beak was filled with hundreds of sharp teeth, each coated in a repulsive slime.

These were the magical beasts sent by the Atan tribe. When Ian tried to grab their necks and twist, the mages stepped in to block and protect him.

“Ian! Go!”

“We’ve got the skies covered!”

Boom! Boom!

One, two, three…

Though their numbers were high, the necromancers’ limits were clear. In the chaos, controlling both synthetic beasts and flying monsters simultaneously was too much. Their attacks were inaccurate, and the mages easily repelled them.

“Hey! There’s Bariel’s lackey!”

“Chief! What do we do?”

“What do you mean, what do we do? Stop him! And who the hell talks like that? What an idiot.”

“That’s a Bariel mage! The mage is targeting Damon!”

The Atan reinforcements, sensing Damon’s danger, signaled each other. But—

Screeeech!

“Where do you think you’re going, damn it?”

“Step aside. I’m here to save Damon and have some fun.”

“You’re gonna die, what fun is there?”

“Oh? You’re feisty.”

Beric refused to back down, holding the Atan chief in place with a strengthened sword. Efdiram laughed mockingly, and Beric smirked in response.

From the great desert to civil war, Beric had learned one thing through experience: facing a strong opponent and surviving near death always made him stronger.

So this time would be no different. Losing before death wasn’t truly losing. Beric always won, grew, and smiled. Just like now.

“If Ian interferes, you’re dead!”

“Get lost for a moment!”

“Arrgh!”

“Beric!”

Crash! Bang!

Two figures flew in from either side—Barsabe and Jaret. Barsabe provided cover while Jaret unleashed lightning-fast sword energy.

But Efdiram raised a shield and deflected the attack, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“This is why I hate imperial scum.”

“Efdiram, huh? I’m Jaret, one of the three commanders of the Imperial Palace Guard.”

“Save the introductions! Hey! Take care of King Damon!”

“Yes, chief!”

“How dare you!”

Ants swarmed in—charging, chasing, cutting off, blocking, and grabbing. From afar, it looked like a war between Klipoford and Burgos, but up close, the battle swirled around Ian and Damon.

Whoosh!

Ping!

An arrow flew through the sky, aimed at Ian. He instinctively deflected it, then realized it came from the Luswena side.

Far off, long teal hair fluttered—Eriphonida.

‘Things are going as planned, Zaira.’

It was too far to circle around Bariel’s side. From Luswena’s perspective, the best move was to repel Bariel, secure Klipoford, and prevent the fracture Burgos desired.

Starting with her arrow, countless Luswena soldiers poured down.

With a fierce battle cry, they charged like rolling hills. Klipoford soldiers hesitated, caught off guard by the attack from behind. If this continued, they’d be surrounded front and back, and the battle would turn against them.

“Prince Noah! Luswena has joined the fight!”

“They’re coming from behind! What should we do? We can’t split our forces!”

“Send a signal to the barrier! We need reinforcements too!”

“Damn it!”

Burgos in front, Luswena behind. Noah anxiously glanced left and right, gripping the battle flag.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Thud!

Arrows rained from the forest, piercing Luswena soldiers’ chests. They faltered, looking around in confusion. It was the forest—though invisible from below, the angle of the shots made it clear.

Noah frowned, focusing on the forest, and soon saw a flash of blue.

Bwoooosh—

“Bariel reinforcements!”

“The main force from Bariel has arrived! Listen up! Bariel has sent troops to Klipoford! Victory is ours!”

Bariel’s emblem, stitched in gold thread, gleamed in the sunlight. Tweller recognized his men from afar and smiled as he split an enemy’s head with his axe.

“Came quick, huh?”

“Minister Tweller!”

“Yes! I see it! Don’t worry about the rear! Our family is here, so I’ll focus on the front!”

Whoosh!

Tweller’s men were veterans of the battlefield. Judging by the situation from the forest, they decided to block Luswena’s advance with arrows.

“Charge!”

Meanwhile, a general ordered troops not toward the mixed Klipoford-Burgos front, but toward Luswena. Soldiers surged forward, kicking up dust like the world was on fire.

“Damn it.”

Thud! Damon had no choice but to jab Tommy in the side and keep retreating. Ian was already struggling on the front lines, and now Bariel’s main force was joining in. There was no option but to fall back. Retreating to regroup and devise a new strategy was the best course of action.

When Damon saw a soldier bringing a mage forward, he quickly shoved Tommy to the ground. Tommy was trampled underfoot, coughing up blood.

Seeing this, Ian hesitated for a moment. Should he keep chasing Damon, or should he go back now and grab Tommy’s hand?

“Ian! Don’t hesitate!”

Whoosh!

At that moment, a mage swiftly descended and grabbed Tommy’s arm. Though Tommy’s side was wounded and blood gushed out even more, there was nothing to be done. This was exactly what Damon had intended.

As the mage carrying Tommy disappeared toward the barrier, Ian unleashed all his magic as if letting go of everything.

Zzzzzing! Zzing!

“Ian! We still have two left!”

Yen and Kanchi.

Damon grabbed Yen by the hair and plunged his sword into her forearm. It was both a threat and a way to disable the mage, who might otherwise be absorbed by the Clipford. Yen, with the Idgal deeply embedded, writhed in pain, twisting her limbs.

Boom!

Crash!

Like a falling star, Ian’s magic sent the soldiers sprawling all at once, and in a flash, he was right in front of Damon.

So close their noses almost touched, Damon felt a strange sense of déjà vu and opened his eyes wide again. Ian’s golden eyes blazed like fire.

Bang!

Ian roughly grabbed Damon by the hair and slammed him to the ground. At the same time, a small necklace slipped from Damon’s grasp and tumbled across the floor, just as disheveled as its owner.

“…Damon.”

“Ugh—!”

Ian pressed his head down hard, putting all his strength into it. The generals and soldiers were stunned, but no one dared move. If they made a wrong move, the king might die right then and there.

Ian was simply restraining him, looking down with a deadly aura that was anything but ordinary. It was overwhelming power. Ian pressed his knee firmly against Damon’s Adam’s apple and shook his hair roughly.

“Damon. Answer me.”

Without a word, Damon couldn’t move, his hands clutching at the dirt in desperation. Amid the chaos, he noticed the Idgal necklace beginning to glow faintly. The magic within was slowly causing cracks to form.

As Damon reached out to grab it, Ian smirked mockingly and stomped on the back of his hand with his foot. Then he asked,

“Now, what do you think is going to happen to you?”