446 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

**Chapter 446** “We've won again!!” “We did it!” “Long live McLine!” “Hurrah!” Cries of joy erupted throughout Rusfelheim. The jubilant voices were naturally those of McLine's soldiers. The residents of Rusfelheim could only watch with fear in their eyes as McLine's forces surged through the broken city gates. Some soldiers, drunk with the madness of war, felt a significant resentment towards those frightened gazes flying at them from the darkness. Bang! “Everyone out! Kill all the imperial......” Thud. A soldier who had been kicking down the door of a residence with bravado suddenly found himself sprawled on the ground, struck by a hand larger than his own head. “You insane fool... Want to die first, do you?” A giant who saved a family from a slaughter. Yet, this giant knight, far surpassing an ordinary person's size, only instilled greater terror than the soldier who had just been felled. “Yikes!” “McLine does not harm civilians. Just comply with control.” Leaving a passing remark to the trembling family inside the broken door, Luther Kyle dragged the unconscious soldier out by his legs. He frowned slightly, observing similar incidents occurring all around. Soldiers, high on victory, were breaking into houses, brandishing swords, and menacing civilians with wild eyes. The chaos wrought by the frenzy of battle. The lunatic he had just knocked unconscious might be a simple, young man once the war concludes. Of course, there was no reason to leave the situation unchecked. – Rusfelheim would become a foothold for McLine to check the empire. No longer was the goal simply to inflict as much damage on the empire as possible. “By order of His Majesty! Do not touch the common people!” Luther Kyle’s booming shout echoed, causing McLine's soldiers poised to loot homes beyond the crumbled walls to hesitate. Those who didn’t heed the warning were promptly subdued by knights. “Pillaging will be severely punished!” “Rusfelheim will now be integrated into McLine’s domain!” “Do not harm civilians!” A forced suppression of wartime madness. The culmination of that process was……. [Rebuild Rusfelheim’s barracks and shelter the soldiers. All knights, assemble in the inner city.] A voice directly hammered into the minds of each soldier in the grand army. “His Majesty is watching.” “Maintain order!” “Move quickly!” The sovereign's power swiftly organized the chaos. The soldiers’ movements lightened tangibly as they expressed their respect towards where the sovereign resided. “Your Majesty, the Eastern Wing King’s daughter and the Aura user…” “Yes, they’re gone.” “...Were they imperial spies, after all?” “No. A different side.” “Pardon?” “Never mind. Don’t concern yourself with it, just tidy up the battlefield.” “…Understood, Your Majesty.” Unquestioned, the knight was dismissed with a casual gesture by Logan, who then surveyed the gradually organizing battlefield. The underlings of the Kassel Magic Tower disappeared. It was a worrisome situation, but since they were temporary enemies anyway, he wasn’t too bothered. Above all, a single thought dominated his mind. ‘We’ve won again…’ His trembling hands. Logan wanted to fully savor the overwhelming emotions. The past, which had been a relentless rush without a moment's rest, flashed before his eyes like a kaleidoscope. A different surge of emotion from when they had withstood the empire’s attack flooded in, and he felt a certainty that he could adequately address future concerns. Then came a voice that quelled his elation. “Your Majesty, I’ve gathered the scrolls as instructed.” Victoria approached hesitantly, her appearance disheveled from hiding underground to manipulate the golems. “…Great, well done. I know it was tough, but could you help a little more to check their condition?” “Yes, of course, Your Majesty!” Hundreds of 5th-circle scrolls distributed among the warriors in the battlefield. Most were destroyed during the battle by himself, Luther, Wiccan, and the Kingdom's alliance, yet about a hundred remained intact. The black knights’ suicidal acts were due to their failure to sustain the emperor’s magic, not the exhaustion of the scrolls’ power. Had the emperor’s plan succeeded, McLine would have suffered irreparable damage here. Scrolls that consumed countless souls and blood. They exuded the mana of the Kassel Magic Tower more than the emperor’s magic. With these... ‘Perhaps we could uncover some of the Kassel Magic Tower’s secrets.’ One could surmise the contract between the tower master and the emperor. The tricks they were preparing became vaguely apparent. ‘Claiming the weight of promises, they stabbed us in the back. I’ll make that old serpent regret it profoundly.’ It was a betrayal that nearly toppled all his plans, and he intended to make them pay for it dearly. Logan's eyes, growing increasingly deep, turned towards the quickly organizing battlefield. The McLine forces were basking in the victory he couldn’t fully enjoy himself. – Glory to McLine! – We have won! – Hoorah! The voices, endless and ceaseless, only began to quiet as it became late into the night. * * * A single streak of blue wind surged through the air, perceived by no one. Its incredible speed aside, the wind was shrouded by magic that consistently hindered human perception. Yet, despite such astonishing agility, the face of the one inciting this wonder was completely twisted in frustration. ‘How could this happen…’ Emperor Kaisers von Ares, compelled to flee by squeezing out his dwindling magic, was plagued by confusion. His magic was abruptly swept away as though engulfed by a tidal wave when the golden light spread. In his mind, the scene from that moment replayed ceaselessly. It was a devastating blow for the grand magic, meticulously prepared with the help of the Kassel Magic Tower, to be seized midway. And it was orchestrated not by a mage, but by an Aura user. Moreover, a single subsequent strike left a profound wound that shook the foundations of soul and magic. Unless the foe was a mythical god, such a feat—even for an Aura Master—was impossible. ‘This cannot be, absolutely cannot be.’ It was already beyond comprehension that he became an Aura Master in just a few years. But to break through those limits in mere months? It was utterly nonsensical. ‘An Aura user’s ultimate limit is the Aura Master.' While an Aura Master could serve as a formidable war engine covering levels 7 to 8, according to their capacity, that was the ultimate boundary. The literature left by the great ancestors clearly stated this. Even ‘the first Aura Master,’ who had been a peer of those ancestors, ultimately could not surpass that wall. Unlike the ancestors who reached the divine realm in their twilight years. The words of an ancestor who saved humanity declared it impossible, even for a hero blessed by the gods. – It was not Taron Ares who saved the world, but the Sword Saint…… The absurd words flitted through his thoughts, but he quickly shook them off. In the end, the foe also could not transcend the Aura Master’s limits. Reflecting on it, he realized something. The event at McLine’s Kyle Castle where the grand magic “Extinction” was shattered. ‘That light.’ An incredible incident that forced him to venture outside his tent, against belief. ‘Undoubtedly.’ The one who opposed him afterward displayed the power of an Aura Master, but only one move truly reflected the strength befitting an Aura Master. That strike which took his left arm. Afterwards, he appeared overwhelmingly overpowered, as if all his strength had been exhausted in that single blow. ‘It makes no sense for an Aura Master, said to be the gods of the battlefield, to tire that easily.’ This led to one conclusion. The light that shattered “Extinction” was a similar tactic to what was done now. Unlike a mage, it might be possible for an Aura user. ‘A trait…….’ Momentarily exhibiting power beyond the limits of an Aura Master. That was likely the trait he possessed. In exchange, it was certain he’d become exhausted after a period. ‘Damn Aura user. Damn trait.’ The Emperor, having deduced the truth, reached a near-correct conclusion. However, the appalling situation he found himself in would not change. Even with his personal involvement, the result was yet another resounding defeat. Despite the company of twelve superhumans, they lost the defensive battle. ‘How many survived, really?’ He wasn’t talking about knights and soldiers. The number of casualties among regular forces by that point was likely too staggering to even estimate effectively. He had only one hope. That the superhumans' sacrifices were minimal. ‘I sent a message while retreating. To prioritize their safety and meet at the hideout in Plen, many must have escaped.’ The Emperor reassured himself. Yet, only two had arrived safely at the prepared hideout in the small Northwestern town, Plen, from Rusfelheim after two days. * * * “Galen, Jerome. Only the two from the Duke of Decaid’s family… Is it truly just you?” Within the stone chamber faintly lit by flickering torches, the Emperor, with a haggard expression, sat as Galen and Jerome, even more wretched-looking, fell to their knees. “…We are sorry, Your Majesty.” “…We have no words.” Their faces, obviously not yet recovered from internal injuries, painted a pitiful picture unworthy of the Empire’s superhumans, but the Emperor could not bring himself to be angry. After all, whose fault was it, truly? “They say around ten have died. Ha, ha… How did it come to this….” The Emperor’s lament echoed out, as he bit his lip and hung his head low. Galen and Jerome bowed their heads even lower, unable to witness their monarch's disgraceful state. After a tense pause, the Emperor spoke with a voice as strained and cracked as sandpaper, resonating through the dim room. “It is all due to my lack of virtue.” “Sire…” “How can you say such a thing…” A terrible expression crossed their faces, yet neither Galen nor Jerome could utter more. Soon, the Emperor inquired in a somber tone. “How far do you think they will advance?” “Assuming the Western Legion remains intact, the Imperial Army still has superior comprehensive forces. McLine will not dare to invade Aserian.” “…Indeed, we will not allow it. Rest assured, Your Majesty.” “Am I to take comfort that Aserian remains uninvaded? Ha, ha. How did I end up like this….” Despite Galen and Jerome’s reassurances, the Emperor’s voice was filled with sorrow as his hands anxiously covered his face. “And McLine has Logan, an Aura Master with them. Are you confident you could win by deploying the remaining Tri-Core Stewards and Western Legion, Galen?” “…I will stake my life to ensure it.” “Stake your life… Ha, such faint praise from the empire’s sharpest blade, claiming you barely manage by staking your life.” Even the steadfast resolve of the Archmage of the Wind didn't dispel the Emperor's bleak outlook. “Damned.” Even if uttered by the Emperor, or a monarch of any nation, the curse word reverberated low through the room. The Emperor repeatedly brushed his face with his one remaining hand, when suddenly, his dark eyebrows twitched, and a memory of a voice resonated in his mind. – I will not ‘personally’ participate. I will also share the methodology for mass-producing black knights. – In return, seize Logan McLine. That’s the only one we desire, Your Majesty. A supremely confident voice with an offer impossible to refuse. Could it have been nothing but bait, that all-too-sweet proposal? Or… “No, they didn’t know either…” His cryptic murmuring caused Galen and Jerome to flinch, but lost in thought, the Emperor remained silent for a long while. Eventually, an unexpectedly low voice emerged. "Both of you, head to the Western front immediately. Use all your strength to expedite the resolution of the conflict in the West." "...Yes, Your Majesty." "...We will obey your orders." Despite their confusion, the two members of the Decaid family couldn’t voice any objection. Ultimately, they quietly left the dim stone chamber, leaving the Emperor behind, gesturing with composed conviction. Boom. The grand stone door closed with a heavy thud, and the Emperor, left alone, continued to ponder. By consolidating the Western forces and driving them back, there was indeed potential. Now that he knew Logan McLine’s trait, he had the confidence to exploit that weakness. They could intercept the McLine forces before they reached Asterian. Yes. They could intercept them... "Am I, the Emperor of the mighty Ares Empire, merely thinking...!!!" With his shout, blue magic burst forth. Boom. Crack. Crack. Rumble. With anger fueling his steps, a web of cracks spread across the stone chamber floor. Almost simultaneously, the ceiling began to crumble. Crack. Dust fell thickly from the fractured ceiling, coating the Emperor's head. He could have easily shrugged off the dust and escaped the collapsing chamber with a mere flicker of his magic, yet the Emperor stood still until his face was entirely obscured by the dust. Such was the depth of the severe conflict within his heart. – Remember, descendant@. – This is only to be used when humanity faces a crisis or the revival of the great demon @$% is imminent. – Otherwise, the inherited power will cease at that moment... A royal taboo passed down solely to the Emperor. The final measure left by the ancient grand magician Taron Ares for his descendants (humanity). The moment it was used, the magician’s power, traditionally inherited by the Empire’s Emperor, would vanish. And unbearable aftereffects would ensue. However... "Right now, with the Empire under threat, this constitutes humanity's crisis. It isn't violating the ancestor’s decree. Yes." Grit. "Rather than be inscribed in history as a loser, I would rather..." Resolute, the Emperor decided to break the taboo. Hum... Blue magic surged from the Emperor’s body, repelling the showering dust and supporting the collapsing chamber. Rumble. "I, the Empire, shall triumph. Wait for me, Logan McLine! I will tear you limb from limb!" Hum... – BAM! With the surging blue magic, the hideout exploded entirely, disappearing in an instant. And nothing remained at that location.