443 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Episode 443: [Duke Latin, Duke Gustave, lead the alliance army to flank and attack the south gate. Despite appearances, there aren't many troops there—it's just a ruse. There are no exceptional fighters either. Instead, there are magical scrolls....] "Ugh, it's truly hard to get used to..." Latin Lawrence, famed for his impenetrable defense and an extraordinary figure among the Union superhumans, shook his head as he listened to Logan's telepathic commands. For the MacLaine forces, the ability of their lord to assess the battlefield and issue orders in real-time was a blessing. However, for the armies of other nations in the alliance, it felt somewhat disconcerting. 'As long as he's alive, the Union will never break free from MacLaine's shadow.' Whether Logan was aware of this sentiment or not, Gustave Clemens, the mage of the tide, made a lighthearted comment. "You know, I wanted to challenge the Empire's Tower Lord for the title of the 'Tide.'" Latin Lawrence managed a brief smile, forgetting his worries for a moment. "Do you think you can win?" "Even if it's the Empire, it's a landlocked country, isn't it? Would a mage from such a place have ever seen a tide? Hmph." Latin regarded him with renewed interest. This extraordinary individual, who had defected from Caron, was a formidable enemy when they faced him at sea. Resistant to the end, he surrendered only when the King of Caron was captured, and swiftly pledged allegiance to Theron under the condition that his life would be spared. Yet, within mere months, he became a central figure in Theron's political scene. 'He's quite the character.' His uncanny ability to adapt was sometimes bewildering. "Confirming the legend of the Aura Master was worth joining this war—it should at least silence the anti-MacLaine faction back home." Especially when he spoke as if he could read one's thoughts. "Moreover, it seems we're not being used as cannon fodder instead of MacLaine forces, so perhaps we can hope for some post-war rewards?" "…That's unexpected. Well, if we were thrown at the east gate, I was planning to slip away and retreat to the rear." Though he certainly didn't intend to use the Theron forces as armor-piercing arrows in someone else's war, and while it would have been hard for soldiers to ignore the continent's greatest command echoing in their minds, he thought he might at least control the knights. As he considered this, a different possibility suddenly struck him. 'Could it be... that he knows?' Among the legends of the Aura Master, there was a tale of reading people's minds. Logan's ability to telepathically send messages across distances made it seem not entirely impossible. "…We need to wrap up the south gate quickly." "Sir?" "If we want to ensure those post-war rewards." As a crimson aura began to form four shield-like figures revolving around Latin Lawrence, his determination signaled a shift in momentum. The Union army's movements became decidedly more urgent than before. [Ronian, Victor. The two of you handle five of the imperial guards. They seem to have gathered to confront me, but you can handle it, right?] "Yes, brother." "Yes, sire." As they rode with the knights, Ronian and Victor simultaneously responded, knowing their voices wouldn't carry but instinctually shouting back. Sharing a glance and a smile, the two friends exchanged a silent understanding. [Their position is just behind the central wall. Four of them were seen at the southern fortress. But beware of the one-eyed knight. His eye can read intentions. The way to handle him is....] Absorbing their lord's telepathic instructions intently, Victor grinned at his friend beside him. "Don't act all melancholic this time—I'm hard to kill, remember? Last time was embarrassing!" "You better not start whining and clinging to brother again. Just do your job properly!" "Where did you even hear that...!?" "I'm going ahead!" "Hey, you!" Even in this serious wartime moment, they managed a conversation that felt like banter. Soon, a superhuman clad in an orange aura leapt onto the wall, disappearing like a streak of light, followed by a streak of grey. With resolute faces, both locked their sights on the five superhumans poised against their leader, Logan MacLaine. And before they could act, the leading one-eyed knight noticed them first. "Enemies!" At the cry of the one-eyed knight, Jerome Dekaideen, the imperial guards turned their heads in unison. "Is that him!?" The eyes of the four superhumans landed on the red-haired knight who had defeated them at MacLaine's southern fortress. And in that instant, Ronian and Victor assessed their adversaries. Three higher-level and two mid-level superhumans. Their heightened senses, honed by the mystery of the divine sword, quickly gauged the enemy's level. – This is going to be tough. – Maybe for you. – I was worried about you. At the end of their exchange made through glances, flames lit in their eyes. Having reached high levels of aura mastery through misunderstanding and the deaths of close friends and loved ones, the two geniuses—both friends and rivals—found their intentions aligning. "For now!" "Let's hit ‘em!" They executed a maneuver that seemed like an attack on each other—a deceptive move that, despite appearances, caused the one-eyed knight to shout with urgency. "Dodge!!!" "What!?" Despite Jerome's frantic warning, Matt Dickerson, the highest-ranking of the Imperial Guard, reacted a moment too late. A promising subordinate fallen suddenly; a shred of pride he never knew he had momentarily immobilized him. And that sealed his fate. The 49 orange aura swords intertwined with the grey aura sphere to explode into over two thousand daggers, devastating the area where they stood. Boom! Rumble. Without a chance to scream, Matt Dickerson was torn to pieces, and a section of the crumbling wall followed almost immediately. Advertisements rippled across as the institutional genius duo leaped among the Imperial Guard superhumans, having just displayed an awe-inspiring combined technique. Their target was the one-eyed knight. – The simplest way to deal with him is to suffocate him, making it impossible to block even if he knows what's coming. Recalling the reminder from their lord, brother, and mentor, the two wielded their swords as one, converging on the one-eyed knight. Yet, Jerome Dekaideen's silver aura cleverly intervened between the two. "Not so fast!" At that moment, even the delayed red aura of three other Imperial Guard superhumans joined the fray. Boom! With a rumble, the impact alone began to dismantle the eastern walls of Rußfelheim, where no protection or restoration magic was in place. [Now, Master.] “Yes, Your Highness.” In that instant, the swordmaster accelerated, bursting forth amidst the knights. This was an arrangement made even before the battle began. He advanced towards where the mage of the gale awaited. Even while fending off Burdel's arrows, the mage continued to massacre MacLaine knights climbing the walls, until a crimson lightning bolt crashed in front of him. Boom! “Ugh!?” Despite the ambush-like attack, Galen Dekaideen executed a flawless defense. His signature gale-force spell once again proved how formidable it was. However, it wasn't a force he could resist in mid-air without support, and thus he was swiftly flung towards the wall. Yet, as he recognized the assailant was an aura user, Galen forgot the force of the blow, smirking coldly. "Where are you going!" Attacking me mid-air... You’ve walked into death's embrace by your own feet. As the opponent, who executed the strike in mid-air, naturally descended, blades of blue wind quickly enveloped the falling foe. ‘Got you!’ Galen momentarily relished his internal cheer. It was short-lived. Swoosh. The opponent, seemingly caught in the gale's grip, wavered like an illusion, then vanished without a trace. Simultaneously, Galen registered the crimson aura now right before his eyes. Boom! "Oomph!" Before he could plummet into the castle's interior, his shadow broadened to catch him. The shadow mage, Platt Reload's magic. But soon, a crimson lightning bolt descended with a force meant to shred everything in its path. Boom! Only accumulating impacts did not allow any chance for defense. Galen’s eyes widened in shock, realizing too late. The black shadow propelled its master away and received the crimson bolt instead. "Damn...!" Cough. Unveiled from the shadows in a corner, Platt spat blood. Witnessing this, Galen clenched his teeth, stirring his magical energy. Voom. Yet at that moment, a dignified force, like a web spreading, constrained his movements and began interfering with his magical flow. The gale that usually rose with each breath, hesitated to form. He barely shaped it through forced exertion of his magical energy. "What... What is this!?" A senior knight landed lightly before his startled gaze. “It’s called suppression. A technique I first taught His Highness, recently refined through newfound insights.” At his calm and leisurely voice, Galen’s expression twisted in anger. Meanwhile. "Hiya!" The net, obscuring the shadow mage Platt from view, shredded his presence. The opponent didn’t even glance back at his devastation. He mocked the mage of the gale in mid-air, dominating nearby space to crush the shadow magic. An adversary of such formidable power, yet appearing ancient — “...The Sword Saint?!” “It’s an honor to face the renowned mage of the gale from the continent.” That calm, smiling figure brought to Galen’s mind the face of a long-deceased individual. Once called the greatest swordsman of the continent. And like the current anomaly, a monstrous aura user who maintained peak skill despite his age. ‘I thought he was just an imitator with a similar title.’ Only then did Galen painfully realize that the MacLaine Fortress’s reputation was no exaggeration. Every step of the senior knight, maintaining his peculiar technique, felt increasingly oppressive. Platt, looking as pallid as prey trapped in a web, clutched his throat in dread of being crushed completely. Just as they were about to succumb to the overwhelming terror. “Don't be ridiculous!” Crackling noises accompanied the blood trickling from Galen’s nose. But, as a result, he broke free from the enemy's magical control. “I am the mage of the gale! The strongest mage in the Empire!” Blue and white winds once more encircled him and charged towards the approaching foe. Boom! The battlefield was littered with chaotic superhuman clashes. Advertisements wove through as Tyr, his body swelling to the size of a calf, skillfully cornered two prey. “Graaargh!” “You filthy beast!” “Hold it back!” Among the Empire’s superhumans, Drexler and Bering, in charge of the Rußfelheim forces, were preoccupied with fending off the wolf that threatened them instead of directing their forces. "Hold it!" "Stand firm!" – Keep them so busy they can’t focus elsewhere. – Snort. A creature connected not through words, but through understanding. Logan, satisfied with Tyr fulfilling his command, smiled. ‘That’s enough.’ Though Logan’s telepathic messages varied in direction and content, to their recipients, they unfolded in a rapid sequence. From the moment Aelin charged the enemy lines to Tyr cornering the two legion commanders, a mere ten minutes elapsed. And that was enough to shatter many of the Empire’s prepared schemes. Simply understanding the flow of the battlefield and reading the thoughts of enemies through his eyes alone. ‘This is possible. More than enough.’ The certainty he gained from the plains battle was further strengthened. And now, Logan prepared to unveil his final move to strangle the heart of the Empire.