Fssshhh!
The air split under the pressure of wind as Elisvaria shot forward. Her body leaned slightly ahead in perfect balance, every step producing efficient propulsion without wasted motion.
The sword in her hand was already poised to strike. Sharp energy wrapped around the blade, vibrating faintly like an invisible layer capable of cutting anything it touched.
The distance closed rapidly.
The bandits in the front wave only caught a flash of white rushing toward them. The Duke's figure looked like a streak of light moving straight without obstruction.
Confusion came first.
Then fear began creeping into their chests as instinct realized something unavoidable.
Death was approaching.
Elisvaria's killing intent blanketed the space before her like invisible pressure.
From behind the bandit line, dozens of men with far stronger auras stood imposing mental force upon them. That pressure pushed false courage over their reason, crushing whatever logic remained.
"Uaargkhhh!"
"Kill her! Move!!!"
The shouts echoed through the freezing air. The sound reignited the courage that had been shrinking moments ago. Fear transformed into desperate bravery, flaring like wildfire.
One man stepped forward.
A single figure started running with a hysterical expression, caught between panic and recklessness.
Then others followed.
Within seconds, the entire group charged wildly toward Duke Elisvaria Velmora, hoping their numbers could overwhelm the massive difference in strength.
But then.
Elisvaria increased her speed abruptly.
In the blink of an eye, she arrived before the frontmost bandit.
Slash!
A fast, clean horizontal swing sliced through the air.
Srrk!
The man's neck was cut perfectly before his eyes could even blink in comprehension.
"Arg..!"
His eyes widened as pain arrived too late. Consciousness faded instantly.
The head separated and fell onto the snow.
Thud.
The headless body remained standing for a fraction of a second before collapsing.
Elisvaria did not stop. She did not even glance at the result of her attack. Instead, her momentum increased, accelerating her body forward even more.
Her sword rose again.
Speed climbed higher.
FSSSHHH!
A white streak shot straight ahead. The air screamed as if torn apart, producing a sharp pressure burst that sounded like a brief explosion. Snow lifted from the ground, forming a long straight trail along her path.
Slaaaaaasssshhhh!
Along that trajectory, her blade cut without resistance.
Until.
Srrrrrkkk!
The first body split.
The second followed.
The third was cleaved across the chest, neatly divided into two halves.
All of it happened within an extremely short span of time.
The bandits watching from behind could only stare with wide eyes. Their brains had not even processed the event when their comrades were already severed.
But it was already too late to retreat.
"Agrkh!"
"Ugh!"
Short screams echoed before being cut off immediately. Darkness claimed their awareness almost at once.
Thick red blood, still warm, soaked into the white snow again, creating a stark contrast.
The remaining bandits screamed in terror as they watched their companions die so quickly at the Duke's hands.
But the situation did not change.
There was no chance to escape.
Slash!
Wssshhh!
Clang!
Several knights behind her, those chosen by Nyra, moved according to the command. They charged forward with high discipline, maintaining formation distance while closing any openings that appeared.
Their arms swung through various attack paths. Their heavy blades were wrapped in each knight's distinct aura, unique energy that enhanced cutting power enough to pierce enemy defenses with ease.
Every step was coordinated. No movement was wasted.
Close combat erupted completely.
The knights' adrenaline surged like an unstoppable flood. That burst of courage came from one simple fact. Their own lord stood at the very front line, charging ahead first without hesitation.
Among them.
Pukki slammed his foot hard against the ground.
Dumm!
A small shockwave spread from the point of impact, sending snow fragments scattering in all directions. The muscles in his legs tightened before his body shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.
He leapt toward the nearest bandit.
Thud!
The heavy landing created a deep indentation in the snow. Fine cracks spread outward from the impact point under the combined weight of his armor and physical strength.
A wild laugh burst from his mouth immediately.
His face radiated brutal excitement that made the opponent before him freeze for a moment. The bandit's expression shifted to shock when he saw the madness reflected in the knight's eyes.
Slash!
Pukki's sword came down from above in a heavy, straight trajectory.
Clang!
"Ugh!"
The bandit blocked on reflex. The metallic collision rang loudly, followed by a violent vibration that traveled up into his shoulder. His palms throbbed instantly from the overwhelming force behind the strike.
His sword nearly slipped from his grip.
Sparks sprayed from the friction between the two blades. The sharp energy coating Pukki's weapon seeped through the clash, pressing into the bandit's skin and creating a stinging sensation like needles of heat.
That pain triggered anger instead.
Whatever logic remained was gradually replaced by burning emotion. The fear that had formed earlier when he watched his comrades get slaughtered by the Duke began to fade, replaced by raw survival instinct.
"Uargkh!"
"Knight dog! You bastard!!!"
"Hhhh… This guy's already insane, huh."
Pukki moved the instant the words left his mouth. His sword spun quickly before launching again in a sharp cut aimed at the man's neck.
Clang!
The bandit twisted his blade frantically, blocking the lethal strike again.
That was close.
This crazy knight is strong.
Slash! Slash!
A continuous stream of attacks followed without pause.
"Good! I like trash like you. Don't disappoint me."
"You damn bastard! Die!!"
The bandit stepped sideways. His right arm swung with all the strength he had left.
The air split along the deadly arc of his sword.
Impact.
Krang!
The attack stopped cold.
The bandit's blade had been intercepted by Pukki's armored forearm wrapped in thick steel plating. The metallic crash echoed harshly, yet Pukki's position did not shift even slightly.
"Bwahahaha!"
Pukki laughed loudly. His grin widened with mockery, clearly enjoying his opponent's failed attempt to slice his throat.
Zrrt!
The creak of armor sounded as his arm lifted again.
Pukki gave the man no time to react or retaliate. Instead, he stepped back once, creating a distance of roughly three and a half steps between them.
An intentional gap.
Veins bulged along his arm, swelling as if ready to burst. His shoulder muscles hardened, aura energy beginning to surge toward the sword in his grip.
The air around him vibrated faintly.
Slash!
One powerful strike launched forward.
Then a second followed.
Then a third.
A relentless sequence of heavy blows crashed down on the bandit without interruption. The pressure of each strike increased with every second, forcing the opponent fully into defense with no opportunity to counterattack.
That damn bastard!
The bandit cursed inwardly.
The knight's sword trajectory felt both fast and humiliating. The angles of the attacks were completely abnormal, almost disgusting. He never expected the next strike to target the exact same point again.
You pig bastard! The groin again.
From the very first swing, Pukki had continued attacking with downward vertical strikes. The movements were brutal, straight, and full of crushing pressure, as if he truly intended to split his opponent's body starting from the lowest part.
The attack was not only dangerous.
It was insulting.
The man lost focus for a split second because of the irritation that flared inside him.
Slash!
A sharp blade cut across his arm.
"Argkh!"
Blood sprayed out immediately, warm and thick, staining the white snow beneath their feet.
Pukki did not stop.
He continued the motion at once, attempting to sever the man's wrist in the follow-up swing. However, the opponent's sword rotated quickly and intercepted the trajectory just in time.
Clang!
The final heavy collision echoed amid the surrounding sounds of battle.
Blood continued to flow from the wound on the bandit's arm, dripping downward with gravity. A faint mist even appeared because of the contrast between the cold air and the warmth of the human body.
Both of their breaths grew heavy.
Uneven.
The knight paused for a moment.
So did his opponent.
The wound on the arm was clearly exposed, flesh split open to reveal the depth of the previous strike. Yet the man still forced himself to grip his sword, enduring pain that reached deep into the bone.
They watched each other.
The sounds of clashing metal, screams, and dying cries around them seemed to fade from awareness. Their focus narrowed solely onto one another.
Provocation came from Pukki.
"Hhhhh! I like tough men like you. Show me everything you have before I slice your flesh down to nothing!"
"I'll rip that mouth apart, you bastard son of a whore!"
"Come!!!"
As if answering the challenge, the bandit stepped forward. The aura around his body pressed heavily into the ground, creating pressure that could be felt even through the snow.
Fssshhh!
His sword began to move.
The man's swordsmanship was rough, heavy, and lacked any formal structure. The trajectories were irregular, yet dangerous because they were honed through real combat experience. Every strike was executed with maximum efficiency for killing.
Clang! Chaechaechaechaeng!
Attack after attack collided.
Pukki blocked most of the trajectories, occasionally countering with swift swings. Sparks erupted each time metal met metal. The vibrations of impact traveled up into their shoulders.
Their breathing grew harsher.
Sweat formed on their foreheads despite the freezing forest air.
The snow beneath their feet crunched and scattered whenever their positions shifted.
Pukki then stepped back when a sharp slash came toward his chest at an angle difficult to block perfectly.
Then.
Wusshhh!
A rapid thrust followed, aimed straight for his heart.
An opening.
The knight saw the gap clearly. His opponent's frenzy had destroyed his own defensive structure. The man was too focused on attacking without maintaining his body balance.
Aura reinforced Pukki's heel.
The ground beneath him compressed slightly.
His body rotated sideways.
The thrust pierced nothing but empty air.
Slash!
Wssshhh!
Pukki's sword moved fast and efficiently.
Srrkk! Krrrk!
The blade cut through the man's wrist.
The sharp energy coating the sword surged directly into the bloodstream through the open wound, worsening the internal damage. The pain that followed was far greater than a simple physical cut.
"Uargkhhh!"
"Bastard!!!"
A sword along with a severed hand fell onto the snow.
But the attack did not stop.
The next trajectory formed immediately.
More brutal.
Faster.
Merciless.
Slash! Chachachachacha!
Pukki swung wildly, strike after strike tearing into his opponent's body, which had now completely lost balance.
"Argkkhhh!"
Another scream rang out as his arm was fully severed.
The next strike followed without pause.
The cry of agony stopped abruptly.
Thud.
Pieces of the man's body fell unevenly onto the snowy ground.
His body was no longer whole.
"Haaa… huu…"
The knight drew a long breath and released it slowly. A thin mist escaped his mouth due to the contrast between the cold air and the heat of his body after the intense fight moments ago.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
His gaze settled on the sight of the dismembered body scattered across the snow. Pieces of flesh, spreading blood, and limbs that were no longer whole were not unfamiliar to him.
A monotonous act.
Something he had done far too many times.
His head lowered slightly as he looked at his own sword.
The blade remained perfectly clean, without a single stain of blood. Sharp energy coated the entire metal surface, forming a thin layer that protected the steel from grime while sharpening both edges of the silver blade.
He then lifted his gaze.
Observing his surroundings.
Only a few bandits remained in the area near him.
His eyes were fixed ahead, toward Duke Velmora who stood at the front line of the battlefield.
Only this far.
The dozen figures ahead were clearly no longer ordinary bandits. Their auras were far heavier, the pressure of their energy distinctly different. Even from this distance, he could already sense the striking gap in strength.
And their power is above mine.
Annoying.
I need to become stronger.
How ironic that in a situation like this, my lord still has to step in personally.
Pukki grumbled inwardly, frustration rising from his inability to reach the next level of combat. Without wasting any more time, his body moved immediately, leaving his position and heading toward other knights who still needed assistance.
Not far from Pukki's location.
Leon stood while staring sharply at a bandit lying on the snow. The man's body had lost its head due to a fast and precise slash. Blood flowed heavily, turning the white snow into a dark red.
"Hemm…"
Leon's gaze then shifted toward Duke Velmora.
He could see transparent white energy resembling thin mist enveloping the Duke's body. The aura moved gently yet felt extremely dense, as if the surrounding air pressure had increased.
Elisvaria's silver-white hair fluttered from the wind created by the surge of her own aura.
The white energy began to condense.
Coagulating.
Forming glaciers shaped like swords.
In a short moment, more than a dozen solid ice swords had formed and floated steadily around the Duke's body.
"Argkhhh!"
The sight was interrupted by a knight's scream.
Leon immediately turned his head.
His eyes widened.
Then.
Fssshhh!
Dark blue aura exploded from the ground.
The figure had vanished from his previous position.
There, a knight was seen kneeling in disarray.
Truly foolish.
I was careless.
How could trash like this defeat me?
"Damn!"
"Buahahaha! At least I'm taking one of you with me to hell!"
The bandit laughed loudly, his voice filled with madness mixed with desperation.
Ever since Duke Velmora slaughtered his comrades with ease, he had already realized one thing.
Absolute death had been sentenced upon him.
The sword in his hand rose high.
A wide grin spread across his face.
"Die, bastard! Rot in the deepest pits of hell!!!"
His muscles tensed. Every remaining ounce of strength he had was poured into one final strike.
Wssshhh!
A dark green energy trajectory split the air with full force.
Clang!!!
But before the blade could touch the neck of the kneeling knight, a dark blue shimmering blade appeared and blocked the attack path.
The bandit froze in shock.
"Haaah!"
A moment later.
The air split again.
Srrk!
The dark blue energy blade sliced cleanly through his neck.
"Ugh!"
The sword slipped from his hand and fell.
His fingers reflexively grabbed at his own throat, as if unable to accept that death had arrived faster than his plan to drag an opponent down with him.
Bukk!
A powerful kick slammed into his chest.
His body was sent flying along with the head that had already separated.
Thud.
Leon remained standing without any change in expression after killing the bandit.
His gaze shifted to the knight beside him.
"Sir Greg, you must not let your guard down even for a moment. Aura practitioners are not monsters or puppets being controlled. Circumstances can force them to become stronger and overturn the situation."
"I understand. Thank you, Sir Leon, for saving me."
Leon gave a short nod.
His eyes lowered toward the wound on Greg's knee. Blood was still flowing, showing a fairly deep injury from the earlier impact.
He spoke again.
"Fall back. Your wound needs treatment before it is too late."
Footsteps approached.
Another knight appeared beside them.
"Hah… you had us worried, Greg. Thank goodness Sir Leon arrived in time."
"Help him and withdraw. This fight is no longer possible for you."
"Yes, Sir."
The knight immediately supported Greg and led him away from the battlefield.
Leon looked forward again.
All the ordinary bandits had fallen.
Only around a dozen remained in front of him.
But they were different.
Their auras were far stronger.
The other knights were no longer capable of assisting at the next level of combat.
Just like Pukki.
Leon could not hide his irritation.
I need to become stronger.
A firm decision and determination rooted themselves deeper within him.
Ahead, Nyra had already taken her position beside the Duke.