Chapter 301: Final Battle (3)

When the giant, human-shaped figures appeared to block the way, Moyongchan couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

He had traveled the world on his missions to eradicate evil, eliminating all sorts of monsters and demonic sects, but this was the first time he had seen something so horrifying.

He could feel an evil intent that denied human dignity at its very roots, as if mocking the very concept of existence.

That only made him angrier.

“Sven, Eto!”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

The two knights he had taken under his wing in Liberta answered in unison.

“Stay calm. I want us to meet again alive.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Master, you take care as well.”

“Of course.”

Perhaps Yuri would be annoyed if he heard it, but these two were his true disciples.

In Yuri’s case, he had been nearly complete as a swordsman from the very start, and Moyongchan had barely interfered with his growth; now Yuri was even stronger than him, so calling himself Yuri’s master felt uncomfortable.

Sven and Eto, on the other hand, had reshaped their entire understanding of the sword thanks to Moyongchan.

Especially Eto, whom he had instructed with particular dedication, teaching him not only martial techniques but also the mental discipline behind them.

Sven, for his part, had reformed his life after meeting Yuri, so Eto—who had no connection to Yuri—could be considered entirely Moyongchan’s creation.

“Eto.”

“Yes.”

“If you survive, I’ll teach you the Blue School’s secret technique.”

“I’ll survive and learn it, Master.”

Then Sven, standing beside them, asked:

“And me?”

“You learn from Yuri.”

“Huh? Why the difference…?”

Sven grumbled, reminding him a great deal of Yuri in attitude, which only made it more irritating.

“Everyone on the continent knows you and Yuri are close friends. I think he could teach you better than I could.”

“Master, are you jealous?”

“Shut up!”

“….”

“If, when this war ends, your loose tongue is still intact, maybe I’ll teach you a couple of moves.”

“I’ll take good care of it.”

While they were talking, Briol’s vanguard clashed first with the giants.

From the front line came an eruption of blood and chunks of giant flesh.

The culprit was obvious.

There was only one person who always fought at the very front, constantly unleashing sword power so overwhelming it could dominate the entire continent.

“Yuri’s tearing through them. We’d better go.”

Just before charging, Eto asked:

“I’m curious about something.”

“Say it.”

“If the Prince of Briol went to the East, what level would he be?”

“The East?”

Moyongchan smiled wryly.

People loved to compare—whether Eastern or Western swordsmanship was superior, whether the swordsmen from one place were stronger than those from another.

Nonsense.

There’s no difference between East and West; the strong are strong anywhere. And Yuri was strong anywhere.

“He’d probably be the strongest, even in the East.”

“Really?”

The current Yuri Briol was like a shining full moon.

In every respect, he was at his peak.

His fighting spirit was so sharp that few would dare to face him.

Perhaps not even the leader of the Murim Alliance.

“At this moment, there’s no human who can stop him. Human, I mean.”

Moyongchan had noticed for some time that the closer they came to the final battle, the faster Yuri grew stronger.

He didn’t know why. Day after day, Yuri became more powerful.

He had already been formidable, but he continued to surpass himself without limit, leaving even Moyongchan speechless.

Perhaps it was the Chaos.

He thought no one could keep such dangerous power under control, yet Yuri had done it.

Among humans, he had no rival left.

It was as if he had been created by this world solely to face Cedric, who had summoned a god from another world.

In that case, Moyongchan’s own role was clear—to support Yuri Briol until he stood before Cedric.

“The Prince of Briol is that formidable…”

“Of course. That guy’s a monster.”

Seeing Sven puff out his chest with pride, Moyongchan let out a brief laugh.

“Then are you going to just stand still and leave it all to him?”

“No, Master!”

From Briol’s front line, the entire army began to move. Liberta was about to crash into the enemy.

The vanguard knights shouted and charged at the giants.

The entire Liberta army surged forward like a wave.

“Eto, Sven, fight to your heart’s content.”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

This battle was not like a war between humans. There was no room for strategies or tactics.

One simply had to push forward with all their strength and crash into the enemy until their limits were reached.

That was the only tactic.

Sven and Eto began to run.

Watching his two disciples’ backs, Moyongchan raised his sword.

“They’ve got good spirit.”

Perhaps because the final battle was near, he felt sentimental. Suddenly, memories of the old Blue School came to him.

He had left his sect, believing it was the right path.

At the time, he had been certain there was no other choice.

But over the years, he sometimes thought he might have been too hasty.

Perhaps, though not easy, he could have achieved something by staying.

Time is like that—even the most painful situations eventually become stories to tell.

This war would be the same.

“Maybe someday I’ll miss this moment.”

The fact that he had a worthy enemy against whom he could fight with everything he had filled him with joy.

Following his will, Moyongchan’s inner energy began to stir.

Soon, a sword filled with the golden light of sunset rose.

Holding it, Moyongchan turned his gaze to find his first disciple from the West, Yuri Briol.

“There you are.”

Ahead, a fierce sword aura could be seen cutting down giants again and again.

Being at the vanguard wasn’t as simple as it sounded.

The moment one took a single step beyond the formation, they had to withstand the pressure of the entire enemy army.

Yet for him, it all seemed completely natural.

For him, it was part of his daily routine.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you carry it all.”

Though he always seemed confident—and at times that attitude was so excessive it seemed arrogant—Moyongchan didn’t trust that facade.

That boy had already carried enough.

Now it was time to lighten the load for him.

Only then could he be worthy of calling himself his master.

Moyongchan moved.

He stepped on the air.

Once, then again.

Eight Styles of the Great Cloud Dragon.

Like a dragon playing in the sky, he twisted as he soared through the air.

The front line between the Imperial army and the Anti-Imperial Alliance was evenly matched. But not every area was the same.

In the section where Yuri Briol was, the Alliance was advancing, while in another, the Imperial army was gaining ground.

Moyongchan headed toward the place where the Alliance was being pushed back. And there, stopping in midair, he held his sword forward and murmured:

“Founding masters, witness the sword of this unworthy descendant.”

Blue Cloud and Scarlet Mist Sword Technique.

Unfolding the Mist and Rolling the Cloud.

The Blue School’s ultimate technique unfolded on this final battlefield.

His sword aura began to dye the entire field of vision in twilight hues, as if the sunset were descending.

Startled by the sudden phenomenon, the giants looked up. They seemed to sense danger, but it was already too late.

Moyongchan twisted the sword he had thrust forward and drew it back.

In that instant, the twilight aura that dominated the area bristled and spun violently.

A fountain of blood erupted!

The area dominated by his sword was not small; dozens of giants fell bloodied all at once. Their bodies were so mangled they could hardly be recognized.

A sudden festival of blood.

As a gap opened in the enemy ranks, both allies and enemies froze in surprise.

Moyongchan shouted:

“Attack!”

His voice thundered.

Finally realizing Moyongchan had given them support, the Anti-Imperial Alliance let out a war cry and began to advance.

Moyongchan stepped on the air again and plunged into the front line.

“Lord Moyongchan has arrived!”

“Everyone, push forward!”

“Kill them!”

His arrival made the soldiers cheer with joy.

Moyongchan gave a crooked smile.

In front of him, dozens of enemies formed a wall, while behind him, the voices of his allies pushed him onward.

The pressure bore down on him completely.

This must be the scene Yuri Briol always saw.

“Truly respectable.”

Yuri was no longer his disciple.

Now they stood shoulder to shoulder.

No, in truth, Yuri had already risen above him.

Feeling a competitive spark toward his former student, Moyongchan raised his sword.

Once again, twilight spread across the battlefield.

The giants, sensing danger instinctively, charged toward Moyongchan.

But it was too late.

Once again, the twilight was dyed red with blood.

***

Inariel dispelled with magic the fog that covered the battlefield.

He could have used flames to incinerate the enemies, or summoned a meteorite to crush the enemy lines, but instead he chose to secure visibility.

The reason was simple.

“We must know what we’re fighting against.”

The black magic was so densely deployed that even he could not see the state of Zveta. In such a situation, nothing could be done without first confirming the target.

That was why, accepting the risk of exhausting his mana, he cleared the view first.

The revealed image was horrific.

Deformed giants, and behind them, even more grotesque creatures, and beyond, countless horrors that should not exist in this world.

Zveta’s walls were no longer inanimate matter. They had turned into a monster with a will of its own, raising its shoulders to prevent any enemy from crossing.

Inariel let out a bitter laugh.

“What a problem.”

The group of mages behind him remained silent. As mages, they could understand how absurd the situation was.

One of them, unable to hold back, muttered,

“If only we could use magic…”

It wasn’t just knights who had accompanied Yuri Briol’s march. The mages of the Magic Tower had also joined the Anti-Imperial Alliance to aid in this war.

But they could not do much.

The Empire had deployed a dense curtain of dispel, blocking all magical interference, and except for Inariel, the other mages could not contribute to the fight.

Meanwhile, the black magic manifested freely. That made the mages feel powerless.

“Calm yourselves and wait patiently.”

Inariel looked up at the sky.

Although he had cleared the fog, it was still overcast.

“The time will come when you must act.”

Saying that, he raised his staff again.

“Hernando.”

Hearing his name, Hernando stepped forward.

“Yes.”

“How is it now?”

Although the question was simple, Hernando understood his intention immediately.

His exclusive spell, Contemplation of the Heavenly Mandate, acted within him and was unaffected by dispel.

“I’ll see.”

Hernando activated the technique immediately.

It had been a long time since he had used it; ever since meeting Yuri, all futures had become uncertain, and he had not attempted to contemplate destiny.

A faint light emerged from his eyes.

Time passed.

The screams from the battlefield rang out several times.

And then Hernando fell to his knees.

“Ugh…”

Inariel, without helping him up, watched him and asked calmly,

“The result?”

“Destiny… is still unseen.”

“I see.”

Inariel nodded.

“That’s good. It means there’s still something left to do.”

“But… it felt darker than before. Maybe…”

“Don’t fear what you can’t see.”

Inariel drew in a breath.

The mana swelled inside him again, making his salmon-colored hair ripple.

“Inariel…”

Maryrose approached him, but Inariel extended a hand to stop her.

“I’m fine.”

“But…”

Even as the master of the Immutable Mana Formula, he had limits. Ignoring the dispel and casting spell after spell was an enormous burden.

But Inariel did not stop.

“That boy.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s thanks to Yuri Briol.”

While forming a seal with both hands, Inariel spoke.

“I always wanted to return to the Forest of the World Tree. I didn’t like having to wander human lands, apart from my people. But after meeting him, I no longer felt that way.”

“Inariel…”

“It’s fun. That’s why you love him too, right?”

“T-That…”

“He accepted your request yesterday, didn’t he?”

Maryrose’s face turned red, and Inariel smiled.

“Now I also want to see it. The world you will build when this war ends.”

He opened his hand.

In the overcast sky, a change began to occur. Thunder rumbled and the clouds parted, while the air trembled unstably.

Through that opening, Inariel’s mana rose higher and higher.

Higher.

Even higher.

Beyond what the human eye could perceive.

In the vast nothingness, he caught hold of a nameless rock.

Inariel lowered his hand. The mana tightened like a cord.

After a brief struggle, the captured rock began to change its orbit and descend toward the earth.

Lower.

Even lower.

Piercing through the layers of the atmosphere and turning into a blazing fire.

To destroy everything.

A meteorite plummeted.

Meteor.

The supreme magic, until now passed down only as legend, was becoming reality.