Moments earlier, at Harris' position.
KRAAANG!
The explosion of steel and aura shook the air as Harris' blade collided with the middle-aged man's sword. A pressure wave swept the surrounding snow into the air. Harris immediately reinforced his arm. Muscles tightened, veins bulging along the back of his hand as he forced a horizontal swing aimed at the man's waist.
The strike passed within a hair's breadth.
His blade sliced through the air with a sharp hiss. The middle-aged man reacted in a fraction of a second. His wrist twisted sharply, altering the angle of his sword to intercept at the final instant.
KLANG!
A violent vibration traveled from the edge of the blades into both of their arms. Steel groaned. Aura pressed against aura. The recoil forced them apart. Almost simultaneously, their feet struck the ground and their bodies leapt backward, creating several steps of distance.
The once undisturbed snow was now in disarray. The ground had split open, deep grooves carved by aura-guided slashes. The scars stretched several meters, clear proof of the power just unleashed.
This knight is no ordinary opponent.
The middle-aged man grinned widely. The anger that had filled his face earlier faded, replaced by burning excitement. His eyes sharpened with a near unhinged enthusiasm. It had been a long time since he felt this sensation. The surge of adrenaline. The tangible pressure between life and death. His blood boiled.
"Good... very good! Accepting this mission was the right choice. An opponent like you is rare. Fighting you might finally let me break past my limits!"
Harris fell silent for a brief moment.
Mission?
So from the beginning, they were never mere bandits. This group had blended among them and used that identity as a disguise. A carefully constructed cover.
Who is behind this?
A few days ago, Lord Duke had been ambushed by trained assassins during a hunt. Today, it was happening again, though with different attackers. The pattern was identical. Hidden among bandits. Moving in the shadows.
Someone with major influence? Harris could not confirm yet. But one fact was clear. Whoever orchestrated this had enough power to mobilize multiple high-level aura practitioners at once.
His thoughts cut off. His gaze returned to its cold focus.
"I did not expect an old man like you to think that far ahead. But do not misunderstand. I have no intention of becoming a whetstone for your ambition."
"Heh. That is the answer I wanted. If that was not your full strength, show it now. I will stop playing around."
The change in the man's expression was unmistakable. The image of a drunken rogue disappeared completely. What remained was the face of a seasoned mercenary, battle-hungry and accustomed to killing.
"As for turning you into a eunuch earlier, consider that a joke. Forget it. Now fight properly. Be my whetstone, young man! Hhhh!"
"You have truly lost your mind!"
Harris remained unaffected. Insults like that were common. A knight of the Northern Duke who allowed himself to be provoked would become a laughingstock in the barracks. He understood that well.
The air between them trembled.
Aura seeped from their pores, growing thicker and denser. The pressure surged drastically. The ground beneath their feet sank several centimeters, cracks spreading outward in circular patterns. Dense gray energy and bright red energy collided in the air, grinding against each other and producing a low, continuous friction.
Two true Expert-level aura practitioners, both nearing the realm of Intent Aura, stood facing one another. Their presence felt like explosives ready to detonate at any second.
Ssrrsshh!
The sound of cutting wind sharpened. Aura flowed evenly through their bodies and into their blades. Their grips tightened. Leg muscles hardened, prepared to launch their bodies in a burst of speed.
Fssshhh!
What remained at their original positions was only swirling wind and rising snow.
Slash!
KLANG!
Another violent collision. Steel screamed as aura clashed. The recoil wave swept through the surrounding area. Their faces were so close that their breaths nearly collided.
Harris ignored the stench of alcohol from the man's mouth.
"Entertain me longer, young man! Hhhh!"
"You lunatic!"
Slash! Slash! Tak ting! Cling! Clang!
Attack followed attack without pause. They advanced, retreated, sidestepped, pivoted, and leapt in movements too fast for ordinary eyes to follow. Each strike carried lethal pressure. Each parry scattered sparks of aura.
Krak!
A nearby tree shattered after being struck by residual force. Its trunk cracked before collapsing, branches scattering across the snow.
Suddenly, Harris found himself at a disadvantage. A swift thrust shot straight toward his throat.
Damn!
His foot stamped hard. His body shifted half a step, just enough for the blade's tip to cut only air. Without delay, he counterattacked. The muscles in his arm hardened as the aura along his blade extended and condensed.
A right swing was released.
SLASH!
The air split sharply. The man rotated his sword to block.
KRRANG!
A massive collision erupted. Harris' condensed aura pressed down brutally.
Ugh!
The middle-aged man was forced several steps back. His body was thrown by the recoil, boots carving deep marks into the snow before he stabilized.
Huu... huu...
His breathing grew heavy. That strike had nearly split him in two. The brush with danger only made his blood burn hotter. The red aura surrounding him resonated more violently, vibrating as if on the verge of a breakthrough.
He compressed his aura flow again. Thicker. Heavier. More compact.
Harris gave him no opportunity.
Fsshhh!
His body launched once more, visible only as a streak of gray. The extreme speed compressed the surrounding air, producing small bursts. He needed to eliminate even the smallest opening.
Faster.
Not enough.
Faster.
Velmor Lightning Sword Technique.
This technique had been created by a previous Duke, centered on pure speed and destructive force born from acceleration. The greater the speed, the greater the impact generated. The principle was simple. Absolute speed produces absolute power.
Though it had not been the former Duke's primary technique, for Harris, learning a technique created by Duke Velmora was an immeasurable honor. A privilege that could not be purchased with anything.
First Technique. Lightning Spear.
"WHAT?!"
The man's eyes widened. He had not fully stabilized his aura flow when a gray streak shaped like an arrow appeared directly before him.
His reflexes reacted instantly. His sword rose to block.
But his aura had not been perfectly circulated yet.
KRAAANG!
The tip of Harris's sword struck the flat side of his opponent's blade at a precise angle. Steel screamed on impact, followed by a brutal burst of aura. The ground and snow around them were ripped up as if torn from their roots, lifted into the air by a violent surge of pressure that distorted everything in its path.
"Arkhh!"
The middle-aged man felt the crushing force again, a blow that nearly shattered his bones. The recoil from Lightning Spear gave him no room to brace himself. His body was hurled uncontrollably for more than a dozen meters, tumbling across cracked earth without direction.
Thud! Crack!
His back slammed into the trunk of a dry tree. The wood could not withstand the force and shattered instantly into fragments. Splinters burst outward in every direction, scattering across the battlefield.
Fsshhh!
Dust and debris spread over the devastated surface. Harris allowed no opening. The instant his opponent was launched away, he accelerated again. His body leapt into the air and halted briefly above the man who was still sprawled on the ground.
Second Technique. Falling Thunder.
Dense gray aura extended from his blade, forming a massive spear like projection of energy. A heavy vibration rippled through the air as pressure gathered. The surrounding space felt compressed and weighty, as if the burden of the sky had been concentrated into a single point.
Below him, the man sensed death closing in.
Without hesitation, his aura erupted explosively.
BOOM!
Wood, snow, and earth were shattered by the bright red wave of energy that exploded outward without complete control. He forced the remnants of his aura into his sword, turning the blade a dazzling bright red. A protective layer of aura enveloped his entire body, attempting to withstand the impact of the brutal attack that was coming.
Harris clenched his teeth. The mental strain of this technique pressed heavily against his consciousness. Controlling the speed of descent while maintaining the density of his aura demanded absolute focus. It drained both mind and body. Even so, he did not waver.
He descended with his sword.
SLASH!
"Nooo!"
The panicked scream broke out before the impact.
It was already too late.
KRAANNNG!
BHOOORMM!
A devastating explosion detonated at the point of collision. A transparent shockwave expanded in all directions, annihilating everything within a radius of dozens of meters. Earth was lifted, snow flung high into the air, some of it vaporizing under the extreme heat produced by colliding auras grinding against one another.
Fragments of stone and wood shot wildly outward, thrown as far as thirty-five meters from the epicenter. The pressure in the air deafened the ears and rattled the lungs.
Krrk!
A sharp cracking sound echoed just before the elongated gray aura blade drove deep into the ground. Its descent carved a trench one meter deep and ten meters long. The earth split apart roughly, leaving behind a clear scar of destruction that would not fade easily.
Harris knelt at the end of the trench.
His breathing was heavy and uneven. The sword in his hand remained embedded in the ground, serving as support for a body that was beginning to lose stability. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly, and his muscles trembled from the massive depletion of aura.
I used up most of my aura.
That man was far tougher than I expected. I admit he is the strongest opponent I have faced so far, strong enough to force me to use the second technique. If his leg had not been injured, Falling Thunder might have achieved nothing at all.
He drew a long, heavy breath, forcing air into burning lungs.
The distant clash of weapons and shouts from another part of the battlefield reached his ears faintly, but from the beginning his entire focus had been on a single target. Eliminating that middle-aged man had been the absolute priority. Everything else was secondary.
His gaze shifted toward the center of the explosion.
Steam and dust gradually thinned.
Torn apart. Ruined.
The man's body was no longer whole. He lay within the newly formed trench, split into two in a gruesome state. His red aura had completely extinguished. Harris could still recall the final scream, but now only cold silence remained.
Several seconds passed.
Suddenly, he sensed something wrong within his own body.
His aura churned violently.
The flow of energy inside his meridians felt unstable, spinning faster than usual, as if it were trying to break past its limits and erupt at any moment. The rhythm was uneven, agitated by the extreme output he had forced upon it.
"Not good."
He pushed himself to his feet, though his knees wavered briefly. After casting one last look at the remains of his opponent, he shot away toward Duke Velmora's carriage.
Upon arrival, he saw the knights who had previously been under his command still holding their ground under intense pressure. Their formation had thinned, but they continued to fight with discipline, steel flashing amid chaos.
At first, he intended to immediately order them to slaughter the remaining bandits still standing. Ending it quickly would stabilize the situation. However, the turbulence in his aura, resonating with the fading adrenaline in his blood, forced him to restrain that impulse. If he pushed himself now, the imbalance within his aura could become fatal.
Not to mention…
From the front, an extremely dense killing intent spread through the air. It was not concealed in the slightest. It radiated outward deliberately, as if meant to shake morale and test resolve before blades ever crossed.
Dozens more?
Damn it!
So there was another group lying in wait.
Harris narrowed his eyes. The pattern was clear. They were not attacking all at once. Wave after wave appeared, designed to exhaust the knights' stamina gradually. The final objective was simple. Isolate the Duke when his protection was at its weakest.
If this pattern remained consistent, then my assumption is correct. There is still a hidden card that has not been played.
I just hope there are no mages.
Facing aura practitioners alone was troublesome enough. If he had to fight mages at the same time, the situation would become far more complicated. Ranged spells combined with close combat pressure would stretch their defenses thin.
Commander Roderic was still locked in combat with that mysterious swordsman. The enemy had prepared this meticulously. Every position was calculated, every engagement chosen with intent.
At the moment, only Sir Vaelor possessed a level of strength equal to the Duke. If the enemy still held someone comparable to Vaelor as their trump card, the direction of this battle could shift at any moment.
And what about Sir Sasuke?
I do not know how deep his strength truly runs. However, if Commander Roderic himself acknowledged his capability, then he is clearly no ordinary figure. I hope he becomes the unexpected variable that shatters the enemy's plan.
Damn whoever orchestrated this from the shadows.
Harris drew a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil within him, then raised his voice.
"RETREAT! Reform the formation!"
"Understood!"
The knights moved immediately. The lines that had begun to fracture pulled back and fused together again, forming a tighter defensive structure. Shields overlapped more closely, spacing adjusted with practiced coordination.
Harris's gaze paused briefly on the platinum-blond knight at the front line. His movements were swift and efficient, mirroring Harris's own style. Mobility was his greatest strength, each step calculated to conserve stamina while maximizing coverage.
Leon Ravenshire.
The younger brother of the Duke's Secretary.
After ensuring the formation had stabilized and handing tactical coordination to a lower-ranking officer, Harris turned away.
With the remaining strength and aura he could still control, he stepped toward Duke Velmora and the three figures standing beside him, ready to face the next wave that was undoubtedly approaching.