“What are you guys supposed to be?”
“Us?”
Yuri exchanged a glance with the others before speaking up.
“I’m Yubi, the mat seller!”
Roland answered in turn.
“Low, the schoolmaster!”
Jared raised his voice.
“And I’m Javid, the butcher’s blade!”
Then, all three spoke together.
“We’re sworn brothers!”
On the surface, it was a ridiculous scene. But Yalta, who faced them, sensed that their arrival was no ordinary matter.
“Ugh…”
At once, their voices overlapped in perfect harmony. This suggested that these three had long trained together in coordinated attacks.
Just dealing with that Hopper guy was tough enough, and now three sworn brothers showed up—Yalta was in a bind.
Jose, who had been watching Yalta closely, spoke up.
“Hey, savage. You scared?”
“What did you say?”
“The mighty Ten Strong are supposed to be scared and running away just because some mat seller, schoolmaster, and butcher from the backwoods of Yohaim showed up?”
Yalta’s face flushed red.
He was almost immune to mockery—no, rather, he had none at all.
He’d killed everyone who ever sneered at him, so no one knew, but he was the type to fall for provocation easily.
Yet, that temperament was actually an advantage for Yalta.
“You guys probably think I’m easy to handle if you make me angry.”
Mana surged through his body.
“But it’s the opposite.”
His muscles bulged.
He was a man who grew stronger the angrier he got.
There was hardly any technical system to his fighting—he just fought on instinct. When enraged, he fought more explosively.
Yalta sprang off the ground like a bullet and swung his sword wide.
The move was too big for any knight to attempt, but Yalta didn’t care.
Even if there were openings, he would overwhelm them with sheer destructive power.
That was his fighting style.
Jose raised his sword to block, but his body was lifted and slammed into a tree. Several massive trees crashed down on top of him.
“Ha ha ha ha!”
Yalta laughed loudly, ready to launch a follow-up attack, when the three sworn brothers appeared behind him.
Yalta reacted immediately, swinging his sword.
“Get lost!”
Any ordinary knight would have been torn apart by the shockwave.
But these three were only pretending to be ordinary sworn brothers from common backgrounds—they were anything but. Quite the opposite.
“Not bad, Yalta.”
Yalta’s eyes twitched.
His sword was stopped by a massive guandao.
Roland, who had even changed his weapon to conceal his identity, spoke.
“But that’s not enough to beat us.”
As Yalta paused, a snake-headed spear curved like a serpent and jabbed toward his throat.
“Daydreaming?”
Yalta dodged and stepped back. Waiting for him behind were twin swords.
The two blades moved fluidly, as if they were two separate living creatures.
Yalta barely blocked the strike aimed at his opening and kept retreating.
“To block my twin swords, not bad at all.”
The three wore slime masks to hide their identities and had changed their equipment.
Yuri wielded twin swords, Roland the guandao, and Jared the snake spear.
As the saying goes, “All streams flow to the source”—the three, masters of the sword, were also skilled with unfamiliar weapons.
Though not quite at the level of their main weapons, they could hold their own in offense and defense.
But their opponent was Yalta.
“These guys…”
Yalta’s face grew even more ferocious. He’d thought he had no more room to get angrier, but he was that kind of man.
A fierce, fiery mana rose from his body.
“Those Yohaim bastards really know how to piss me off.”
“Quite the opposite for me. Yalta, you make me happy.”
“What?”
Yuri smirked.
After exchanging blows a few times, he understood what Jose had told him.
Yalta was strong.
But he barely scraped the bottom of the Ten Strong and could never go beyond that.
As Jose explained, he lacked depth.
“You make me realize I was right.”
Yalta, who killed anyone on a whim, would never understand this. Or maybe deep down, he did—but he simply lacked the guts.
You can’t always do only what you want.
Moving toward a goal is exciting and fun, but in the end, you have to endure the parts you don’t want to do.
Even Yuri didn’t always enjoy swinging his sword every day. The struggle to change the future was sometimes painful.
But to achieve your will, you have to do it.
Yuri dropped one of his twin swords.
Behind him, Roland and Jared also discarded their guandao and snake spear, pulling out hidden swords and gripping them anew.
Jose, having recovered, walked forward.
Yuri said, “In other words, you have to put in the effort.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Swinging your sword however you like—that’s your limit.”
Yalta was furious.
This wasn’t the first time he’d heard such words.
There was a certain Black Knight, stronger than Yalta, who often lectured him like this.
If he weren’t stronger, Yalta would have smashed his head in long ago.
Tired of hearing things like “Don’t kill recklessly” or “There’s a limit to brute force,” Yalta shook his shoulders and laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyone can talk.”
No matter how much they talked, he was the one who had survived. All his enemies were dead.
This time would be no different.
Yalta raised his sword.
At that moment, several imperial knights who had been watching the fight joined in.
“Lord Yalta! We’re here to help!”
“Help?”
“Yes. Lord Yalta…”
The knight speaking was suddenly cut down. A wheezing sound escaped his throat as blood poured out.
The sudden attack shocked not only the imperial knights but Yuri as well.
“Just get lost. You’re only in the way.”
Yalta growled, glaring at the remaining knights.
Having lost one comrade in an instant, the knights nodded fearfully.
After driving them off, Yalta’s eyes darted toward Yuri’s group.
He instinctively knew how to seize the advantage in battle.
The most effective way to deal with multiple opponents was to eliminate the weakest first.
Having chosen his target, Yalta charged.
“Got a live one.”
Yuri muttered, trying to interfere as Yalta lunged at Jared. But Yalta relentlessly focused on Jared alone.
Jared’s body began to bear more and more wounds.
“Stay focused!”
“Yes!”
Jared dodged with his reflexes, but Yalta was physically superior.
He followed Jared’s movements precisely and struck.
Blood splattered from Jared’s arm.
“Ugh!”
Yalta’s sword then slammed down mercilessly. Jared rolled on the ground to avoid it, and an explosion erupted where he had been standing.
Yalta immediately changed direction and pursued Jared again.
The other two attacked Yalta from the sides, but he took the hits and kept pressing the attack.
“Javid, just dodge!”
“Yes!”
Javid focused on evasion while the others restricted Yalta’s movements with their attacks.
But Yalta’s tenacity defied their expectations.
“Got you.”
Bleeding from his side, Yalta grabbed Jared.
He risked exposing a fatal area to snatch his target.
Jared counterattacked with his sword but couldn’t overcome Yalta’s strength.
Yalta struck his abdomen, and Jared spat blood, collapsing to the ground.
Then Yalta lifted Jared’s body as a shield.
The others hesitated, their swords frozen for a moment.
“Hopper.”
“Yes.”
Yuri exchanged a glance with Jose.
Then they charged forward.
Yalta threw Jared’s body. Yuri and Jose leapt over it simultaneously, while Jared tumbled and was caught by Roland.
Yuri and Jose coordinated their attacks.
With four down to two, they could use the space more freely.
Their attacks, honed to mastery, were so fast and precise that even Yalta was taken aback.
Especially Yuri’s swordsmanship was a perfect counter to Yalta. In terms of depth, Yuri even surpassed Jose, and he toyed with Yalta’s brute-force style at will.
Yalta had to focus on blocking Jose, so he couldn’t properly respond to Yuri’s attacks.
“Ugh…”
Confusion flickered across Yalta’s face.
One was down; three remained.
The weakest was tending to the fallen, and the other two were hard to rank.
Yalta swung wildly, but they slipped away like the wind.
Instead, his body accumulated small wounds.
It wasn’t serious yet, but if it continued, he might be in trouble.
Yalta considered one option.
Retreat.
But he never wanted to.
“Arrgh!”
He roared and swung his sword. The larger of the two fell.
Yalta immediately tried to finish him off, but the smaller one appeared and blocked.
“Die!”
Yalta swung at the smaller one, but the opponent’s sword coiled around his like a snake, cutting his arm.
“Ugh!”
In the meantime, the big one returned and launched an attack.
Yalta planted his feet firmly on the ground, forced to fend off both assaults.
In the end, his chest was torn wide open.
Blood gushed out.
He was now a complete wreck.
Though his opponent was bleeding too, the wounds were shallow. Compared to Yalta’s gaping chest wound, they were minor scratches.
“You… you bastards…”
Unconsciously, Yalta glanced behind him.
He needed to retreat.
But his pride wouldn’t allow it.
“Damn it!”
With a roar, Yalta charged again. It was a mistake. The enemy’s blade sliced across his face.
His cheek split open, blood spurting out.
His vision blurred red.
Yalta collapsed to his knees. The enemy’s sword didn’t stop—it came down toward his neck. Desperately, Yalta rolled on the ground.
He had only one thought: survive.
Turning his back, he fled. Struggling to shake off the jeers and flying blades behind him, he ran toward the edge of the forest.
“Running away?”
“Yalta!”
As their leader began to retreat, the imperial troops he commanded faltered and started running backward in disarray.
Though the imperial army’s formation was loose, it was still connected enough that Yalta’s flight threw the entire force into chaos.
In the end, the entire imperial army withdrew.
“The empire’s troops are falling back.”
“They’re retreating!”
“Target their backs!”
Arrows from the Aloy Brigade pierced the retreating soldiers.
Amid the confusion, the only unit maintaining order was the one led by Graham.
“What’s going on?”
Graham, who had been advancing steadily, suddenly stopped.
Chaos rippled through the entire forest.
A messenger brought unexpected news.
“Sir Yalta suddenly began to retreat! Because of that, everyone around is unsettled and fleeing the forest!”
Graham realized something was wrong.
If Yalta had acted on impulse, it might be impossible to reverse the damage.
He sighed and looked beyond the trees.
He had thought this was a minor power not worth worrying about, but apparently, they had been sharpening their blades all along.
He hadn’t realized the knights of Yohaim were so skilled in guerrilla warfare.
If a nation with this level of strength was holding out behind their backs, the empire would continue to face trouble.
“There’s no choice.”
They couldn’t advance alone. Graham decided to pull back his forces.
“Fall back for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
They had moved slowly entering the forest, but the retreat was ruthless. Graham led his troops straight out of the woods.
Outside the forest stood Yalta, visibly furious.
Graham approached him.
“Yalta.”
“Sir Graham.”
“You retreated suddenly. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Yalta’s bloodshot eyes gleamed with anger.
Up close, Graham saw his entire body was covered in wounds. A priest was tending to them, but they hadn’t fully healed.
It was clear how fierce the battle had been.
Suddenly, Yalta spoke.
“Sir Graham.”
“Yes?”
“Let’s burn that forest down.”
He panted heavily before continuing.
“Don’t let those bastards hide there. Make them come out. If we set it on fire, they’ll crawl out on their own. If they don’t, they’ll burn to death.”
A dark, murderous aura radiated from Yalta.
Something had definitely happened.
He was filled with lethal intent.
“No.”
Graham shook his head.
“We won’t do that.”
Yalta stood silently, head bowed.
Graham felt a strange unease at this uncharacteristic behavior.
Then, in an instant, Yalta’s hand shot out like lightning, grabbing Graham by the collar.
Graham felt his breath catch.
Yalta’s eyes, bloodshot and bulging with veins, came close.
Through gritted teeth, he spoke.
“Listen to me, Sir Graham.”