Chapter 302: Final Battle (4)

Heime caught his breath and fixed his gaze on the giant.

He could no longer move with the agility of his youth, but thanks to his long experience in combat, he knew perfectly well how to face such an enemy.

The giant’s movements were similar to those of an orc—impulsive, driven more by instinct than by reason.

A small decoy was enough to provoke a reaction, so it was necessary to face him with cunning.

Heime looked around and spoke.

“Can you follow my instructions?”

“Yes!”

“Keep him distracted at the front, but don’t go too deep in.”

“Understood!”

The knights obeyed immediately.

In that place, there was no one who didn’t know the name of Heime Theodore, the Shield of Briol and living legend who had dedicated his entire life to protecting the border.

The knights rushed to provoke the giant.

Deprived of reason by black magic, the monster lashed out with its fists, trying to catch them.

In the middle of the exchange of blows, a brief opening appeared.

Heime lunged forward without hesitation.

“Count!”

The knights, alarmed by his sudden action, called out to him, but he didn’t stop.

He stepped into the most dangerous zone, right within the giant’s reach, used its knee as a foothold, and leapt upward.

A surge of exhilaration ran through his body.

It was like returning to his younger days, when he knew no fear and always plunged into the heart of the enemy lines—until he lost his son at the hands of the orcs.

Smiling, he drove his sword into the giant’s shoulder and used it as a foothold to push himself up to its nape.

The giant thrashed wildly to try to crush him, but Heime wrapped his legs around its neck and drew his sword.

The monster spun violently; Heime’s helmet flew off, and his cheek split from the blow of a fist.

“Count, it’s dangerous!”

Heime ignored the warning.

With his silver hair billowing, he gripped the sword inverted and raised it.

“Haaah!”

The blade came down on the back of the giant’s skull. It was a blow filled with energy, but the skull was hard—he only managed to tear the skin.

He pulled out the sword and struck again.

This time, he felt something different—the sword had pierced the giant’s hand, which it had raised to protect its head.

Now it was pinned, the monster’s hand fixed to its nape.

Without stopping, Heime raised the sword again and attacked.

Blood splattered as the giant shook with fury, almost enough to knock him off.

The strength in his legs began to falter—if he fell, he would be crushed mercilessly, just as his son had been.

A flame of rage burned in his eyes.

He arched like a bow, raised the sword, and kept striking. He didn’t care that the giant was shielding its head with its hands—he kept hacking until both were ruined.

The giant’s roar echoed across the battlefield.

Heime smiled.

“Does it hurt?”

When nothing recognizable as hands remained, he looked up. The smell of blood—his own and that of others—enveloped him.

The monster’s white skull was exposed.

Heime delivered a final blow.

The skull cracked.

No matter how much it had been spawned by black magic, without a brain, it could no longer move.

He twisted the blade; viscous fluids splattered on his face. He licked his mouth, tasted the marrow, and pushed the sword in deeper.

The giant collapsed.

Amid the dust, Heime stood up.

The knights looked at him wide-eyed, respect in their gaze.

But there were still many giants left, and allies continued to fall. In the faces of the dying young men, he saw his own past.

A new flame lit in his eyes.

“Excellent.”

He felt the urge to kiss the prince who had given him this opportunity.

He began to walk with a firm stride, followed by the knights.

“Count, are you all right…?”

“I hate those bastards.”

“Pardon?”

“I hate them so much I can’t stand it.”

He pointed his sword forward.

There were the giants, then the monsters, and finally, the twisted fortress of Zveta.

“And don’t you?”

Heime’s words rang out with force. The knights understood instantly.

They killed people, treated them like cattle, transformed them, sacrificed them, threatened their daily lives, and forced them to fight on this front line.

Monsters, black magic, and those so-called gods from another world.

That hatred of Heime’s spread to the others.

Courage turned into resentment, and duty into bloodlust. Their eyes burned with an intense red.

“I see you all think as I do. In that case, this chat is a luxury we can’t afford.”

“Yes.”

“We don’t have the skill of a certain someone to mow down monsters—we must use our heads, like I just did. Understood?”

“Yes!”

The knights changed their way of fighting—like packs of wild dogs, they threw themselves at the giants, searching for any opening to bite.

Heime, after destroying another giant’s eye, straightened up.

He felt that a rib might be broken, but that was a minor detail.

“Even so, there are too many…” he muttered.

“Maybe if… ah.”

He looked up.

Something strange was happening in the sky—the clouds churned like a stormy sea and parted to form a dark corridor.

Something was descending from there.

At first, he thought it was the sun.

It was a burning sphere with a long tail—a meteor.

Heime smiled.

“Beautiful.”

Its trajectory pointed to the center, between the Imperial army and Zveta’s wall.

The legendary magic “Meteor,” of uncertain existence, was manifesting before everyone.

Undoubtedly the work of Inariel, that elven mage with the appearance of a young man. The entire battlefield looked to the sky; even the monsters stopped.

The Empire reacted—from within Zveta’s organic wall, they fired projectiles like cannon shots.

They were trying to divert or destroy the meteor mid-air.

It was useless—black magic warped and burned on contact with the meteor’s heat, which grew like a snowball.

A black lattice of tentacles emerged in the sky, seeking to soften the impact.

But it melted before touching it.

The colossal rock fragment crossed the sky and, upon impact, unleashed a catastrophe.

Meteor.

Heime’s vision was filled with blinding white light.

***

Yuri was far ahead, facing the enemy.

He had almost completely broken through the giant lines when a half-human, half-beast monster waiting in the rear blocked his way.

It was as large as a giant, but also possessed the agility of a beast. Its reaction speed far surpassed that of the giants, making it difficult to find an opening.

That’s why Yuri chose to press it with brute force.

He raised a powerful wave of sword energy and charged relentlessly, cutting everything in his path. Every time he swung his sword, howls rang out and blood splattered.

Although the mana consumption was high, for Yuri that was no longer a problem.

He had mastered the use of Chaos to the point of manipulating the very capacity of his mana, releasing it at will.

Jared, impressed, said:

“Is he a monster? How can he keep going like this…?”

“It’s a matter of effort.”

“Effort?”

“Of course.”

Of course, it was a joke. Yuri knew he had surpassed human limits. Sometimes he felt his power was excessive and even dangerous, but such concerns were a luxury he could only afford in times of peace.

At that moment, he was grateful for the strength he possessed and unleashed it without restraint.

He called out to Cedric again.

“Cedric!”

But there was no answer—only more monsters rushing at him.

Jared shouted.

“You’ve gone too far ahead! We’re surrounded! Hey, Laurent! Are you okay?”

“No!”

Yuri, Laurent, and Jared covered each other’s backs as they swung their swords.

Laurent, cutting down enemies with dark flashes of energy, shouted:

“Yuri Briol, I think we should fall back.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine, nothing! We’re too surrounded. Save your strength and advance slowly, waiting for the main force.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Of course.”

“What is it?”

“Well…”

“Yes?”

“Hya!”

In reality, he didn’t have one. He just wanted to keep moving forward. A burning urge to attack pushed him ahead.

Laurent, frustrated, pressed on.

“If there’s no other choice, we should retreat.”

But Yuri looked up at the sky, noticing something before the others.

“Hey.”

He pointed upward.

“That.”

“What?”

Laurent and Jared looked, as did the monsters surrounding them. All raised their eyes as they felt the danger.

The sky opened, and a ball of fire descended.

It was what Yuri had been waiting for.

“That’s no simple fireball—it’s a meteor.”

“That’s my ace up the sleeve.”

“You sound surprised.”

“So what?”

The meteor’s path passed dangerously close to their position. Yuri raised his sword and erected a barrier.

“It’s going to get a little hot—hold on.”

“Maybe we should—”

“It’s too late.”

He unleashed the Cut of the soul and the heart, creating a hemispherical wall of white light. The monsters struck desperately at the shield, but to no avail.

The meteor was getting closer.

“Elves sure know magic.”

“Racist comment.”

“If you don’t like it, get out.”

“Hehehe…”

And then, everything turned white.

There was no sound—only a high-pitched ringing filled the ears. The barrier trembled and the heat seeped in, scorching skin. Yuri clenched his teeth.

The meteor’s power was overwhelming. If it continued, Laurent and Jared would be in danger. He turned to Chaos, exploring all possibilities until he found the strength he needed.

The barrier strengthened and the heat receded.

When his vision cleared, he saw Laurent collapsed and Jared unconscious, clutching his pants. He kicked him aside and looked ahead.

The mushroom-shaped cloud of dust rose into the sky. The force of the impact was immense. Although he trusted that Inariel would have controlled it, he feared collateral damage among their allies.

The wind swept away the dust and revealed a clear blue sky—the black clouds had dissipated.

On the ground was a gigantic crater, devoid of any trace of life.