394 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

**Chapter 394: No Matter How Great the Mage, a Single Attack Can't Decimate an Army** Even a mage as powerful as the Sorcerer of the Cutting Winds couldn't single-handedly obliterate an entire army. The spectacle orchestrated by the Sorcerer was primarily aimed at halting the assault of the soldiers concentrated atop the western ramparts where the MacLine army was amassing. The attack's wide-ranging coverage diluted its impact, significantly reducing its lethality. However, pockets of intense gale-force power not directly moderated by Logan were literally grinding a few soldiers into the ground. “P-please, spare me…” A soldier, frozen and reduced to just his upper body, reached out desolately to his comrades. Witnessing such macabre sights, the surrounding soldiers were uniformly gripped with terror. For ordinary soldiers, enduring the imminent horror of death was nearly impossible. Naturally, the offensive movements directed at the foot of the wall faltered. The Sorcerer of the Cutting Winds managed to single-handedly cripple the momentum of the MacLine army’s offensive. Seizing this opportunity, the imperial army's crumbling formation realigned itself. This was a moment where the mage fulfilled their role in the war to 120%—an achievement worthy of being called a great feat. Above all, no matter how strong Logan was, he had no means to eliminate a midiator unleashing magic from the heart of enemy lines. “Damn it!” Fortunately, though, MacLine had their own countermeasures. A heavy ripple of mana was felt from the rear, and in an instant, the Sorcerer of the Cutting Winds, hovering in the air, staggered. Logan clearly saw the sorcerer’s face stiffen in response. Momentarily faltering in mid-air, the sorcerer, sporting a contorted expression, began to plunge earthwards, as the punishing winds battering the fortress ceased. ‘Who was it?’ Turning to look, Logan noticed Victoria and Clayton standing with eyes closed behind the wall. Scattered around them lay shattered magic stones. Though it was an impressive feat, there was no time to praise those sweating from the effort. During this brief respite, some of the imperial knights clambered onto the ramparts. Logan stepped forward to welcome these audacious intruders. “For the Empire… hm?!” “Die… what the!?” “The enemy leader is here… urgh?” The imperial knights who climbed up were momentarily taken aback, not befitting their valor. Before they could process the anomaly, a deluge of golden aura rained down upon them. Shhhh. “Aaaaargh!” “Ughhh!” “What, what is this…?” The knights were effortlessly overwhelmed. A serpentine stream of golden light carved a deadly swath across a 20-meter radius. Among the fallen was a high-ranking knight adorned with the insignia of a ten-thousand-man commander. Seeing such an unbelievable sight, morale soared once more in the MacLine army, who resumed firing crossbows and swung their swords with renewed vigor. “His Majesty fights alongside us!” “The Sun of MacLine!” “The Sun is with us!” Establishing his own domain amidst the battlefield, the radiant golden light drew all eyes towards him. The morale of allied forces soared, while despair engulfed the enemy forces. “Keep firing! Attack them!” Roused by the commanders’ shouts, soldiers and knights resumed pouring explosive firepower. Pa-pa-pa-pow. Boom! KA-BOOM! “Aaaagh!” “Take cover!” “Block it!” Once more, the barrages of repeating crossbows and salvos of Libertas battered the imperial forces. Though a few knights managed to climb the ramparts, they hesitated from an abrupt sense of powerlessness. “Ugh?!” “Die!” Exploiting that momentary lapse, enemy knights ruthlessly slashed at them. – As soon as they get on the wall, the imperial foes will move sluggishly. Seize that opportunity. Instructions sent from the command. Though unaware of the full circumstances, no knight entered battle without understanding these tactics. Thanks to this, the tide of the initial skirmish seemed to tilt back towards MacLine. However, this unidirectional firepower couldn’t sustain for long. – Glory to the Empire! A booming cry reverberated, as a storm began surging from below the ramparts. The source of a vast influx of mana, blocking the incoming quarrels and Libertas explosions, was undetectable. ‘What is that?’ In the sight awakening an all too familiar sensation, Logan’s expression stiffened once more. Though smaller in scale, it was something he had encountered before. A strategy enacted by longstanding adversaries of his family. Thus, identifying the origin of this turmoil wasn't arduous. ‘Wind Barrier!’ A vista unfolded before his eyes: multitudes of mages conjuring a single spell, Channeling immense mana from the rear of the imperial army. The Empire's magic corps, an elite force from five of the seven towers of Aetherian, were together defending against the catastrophe raining on the imperial forces. ‘Our magic corps?’ Turning around, Logan saw a spectacle of mages channeling mana within a massive magic circle drawn inside the fortress. The heads of the five towers sweated profusely, conducting mana at the star pentagrams, and at its core, surprisingly, Clayton's apprentice, Glick, executed intricate adjustments. Recalling Clayton’s words before the war commenced, Logan realized: – Though significantly developed, our magic corps still falls short compared to the Empire. Therefore, in the worst case, we must concentrate our forces… Clayton had undoubtedly said so. But. ‘Why already? It’s way too soon.’ Yet there wasn't time to stop them now. Ultimately, relinquishing hope on the magic corps, Logan shouted with fervor. “Retreat, vigilantes! Knights and soldiers, fight fiercely!” Although it was premature, he had anticipated the Empire would forge a countermeasure soon anyway. There was only one imperative. ‘Defend it no matter what.’ Voicing commands with all his strength, Logan lunged at the imperial knights climbing the ramparts once more. And blocking his path was an elderly man with stark white hair. “It’s been a while.” The blazing red aura radiating from the elder engulfed the oncoming golden light. ‘In fact, this is a good thing.’ Upon seeing the elder, the Sword Spirit, Logan perceived it as an opportunity. Maintaining his charge, he extended his golden sword outward. The golden snake freely weaving through the crimson aura of the Sword Spirit carved a long gash on his right thigh. "Whoosh." “!?” Blood spurted, and the Sword Spirit's face twisted in pain. 'He doesn't understand, does he?' Logan had no intention of allowing him the chance to grasp the situation. Thud. The force of Logan's bold step left a clear mark on the wall. Reinforcing every bit of that power, his golden blade cleaved through the crimson aura. Divine Sword Art: Seventh Form, Space Slicer. Excluding a certain time-consuming 'Soul Cutter' technique, it was the most powerful skill Logan could immediately deploy. The golden brilliance soared skyward, bisecting everything in its path, including the Sword Spirit's body—or so it seemed. Hum. All that was sliced was a mere afterimage of the Sword Spirit and a portion of the fortress where he had been standing. Appearing far away, the Sword Spirit’s gaze was not on Logan but another part of the ramparts. “Aaagh!” “This… this can’t be!” “Our bodies… are heavy…!” Unlike the fierce momentum with which they scaled the walls, his knights were being dispatched with alarming ease. Tris gritted his teeth, turning his hateful gaze back to Logan, who was charging with killer intent. “The Grand Magic Circle! How dare you use such a trick!!” Since when had magic become a mere trick in wartime on the continent? Yet Tris could only resort to such condemnation. He couldn’t readily admit that an artifact of the grand magic era, which even the Empire struggled to maintain, was being actively utilized by a small nation. More so, the mounting evidence that this young adversary was already on par with him weighed heavily on his mind. Ultimately, he discarded the last of his pride. “Nelly!!!” With that shout, Logan's advancing body began to skid, freezing into white. “Focus!!” Crack. The magic of frost was dispelled with a flash of golden aura, but during that brief moment, the Sword Spirit’s blade was before Logan's eyes. This bizarre phenomenon, with blue aura warping the surrounding space, was a testament to the power enveloping even a speed-focused strike like this. ‘Certainly, at this state, I’m…’ Outmatched by him. Logan felt the undeniable truth. Though he could triumph by tapping into his trait 'Up,' doing so would leave him exhausted, exposing a vulnerability that Nelly or Jerome might exploit. Yet Logan possessed other means to compensate for being a step below. The reason he could maintain composure even with a blade looming in front of him. Hum. The soul-infused masterpiece by a grandmaster Dwarven artisan—his beloved blade Lux—was nearing the limits of time acceleration, having absorbed the golden aura. Unusually short due to the surrounding red aura dominating the area. But. ‘It suffices.’ Reaching the pinnacle of focus, Logan's crimson eyes discerned the power infused within the Sword Spirit's blade. And as the time acceleration concluded. Thud. With a step, the Wind God's Boots maximized his agility, the mighty Gauntlets enhanced his strength as he slashed forward, and the Armor of Protection expedited movements in slowed time, lessening the bodily burden. Artifacts transcending modern limitations, amplifying the power of already superhuman aura users. These treasures from the Sword God’s lineage endowed him with overwhelming might. In an instant, Logan's sword clashed fiercely with the Sword Spirit’s empowered blade. Power against power—the confrontation boiled down to sheer strength. Boom! Crash. Even amidst the chaos of battle, the resounding echo of their clash captured attention. The scene unveiled after the dust settled was shocking. “Cough!” It was Tris Hornsby, the Empire's foremost swordsman, who spewed blood and was launched from the ramparts. “……!?” “Commander!!” “What’s happening…?” Neither the Empire's forces. “Your Majesty!?” “Huh!?” “What in the world…?” Nor the MacLine army could comprehend the scene. A brief pause in movements overcame the combatants, as only one figure—a flash of motion—propelled himself towards the fallen Sword Spirit beyond the walls. ‘I’ll end this!’ He had leveraged the weakness induced by the sealing magic circle to wound Tris's thigh, compromising mobility, and unleashed every available artifact in a single strike. Yet he failed to finish the task. Logan sensed he might not receive such a prime opportunity again, compelling him to make a daring gamble towards the enemy’s heartland. Meanwhile, beneath the ramparts, Empire’s knights were laying down their lives to shield the kneeling Sword Spirit. “Block them!” “Protect the Commander!” “With your lives!” Despite the adversary in front of them, no one dared to target their leader. Such was the unfamiliar sight of the Sword Spirit’s retreat, the adversity he faced. “Get out of the way!” Shwaaash. Slish. Compelled by urgency, Logan swung Lux with ferocity. Golden light unfolded into a colossal blade, sweeping a 30-meter arc. “Aaaugh!” The screams of the Empire’s forces resounded, yet Logan couldn’t help but grimace. The repeated use of the Divine Sword Art drained him, and through blood-streaked lips, he saw the Sword Spirit lift his blade once more. “Finally, my body's feeling lighter.” A fiery red aura ignited from the now-white tip of the opponent’s sword. Concurrently, wrinkles multiplied across the Sword Spirit’s face in real-time. Pause in his steps due to ominous premonitions, Logan hesitated just momentarily. “To be a grandmaster at that age… heh, the greatest enemy isn’t the holy kingdom but right here. I was conceited. Forgive me. But now….” A chilling red light, distinctly different from Logan's, flickered fiercely in the Sword Spirit's eyes. “Let’s die together now!” Before the words "Let's die together" were even fully spoken, the Sword Spirit vanished from his spot.