Chapter 53: One Blow to Break the Crowd

Anplus sprinted toward the intersection surrounded by walls of flame.

The blue fire surged higher than his own height, greedily licking up those who tried to flee.

One man threw his entire body forward, bursting out from beyond the flames.

“Damned nobles!”

The moment the blue fire touched him, his body melted like wax.

Anplus considered several ways to force his way into the intersection while avoiding the flames.

I could push straight through with mana reinforcement, but that’s not a flashy technique, and it won’t inspire fear. 

If I want to reduce casualties, I need to reduce the number of people charging at me in the first place. 

I need one overwhelming blow that leaves a deep impression.

With that thought, Anplus clenched his teeth and accelerated.

Each time his foot slammed into the ground, the poorly maintained stone slabs of the slums cracked apart with sharp, splitting sounds.

Bang.

Right before the wall of fire, Anplus leaped skyward.

His tall, muscular frame, thick steel breastplate and gauntlets, and the weight of two swords together came close to 150 kilograms.

Yet a body honed through relentless training, paired with extraordinary recovery, carried a single knight into heights once thought to belong only to a chosen few mages.

“A mage!”

“A Wind Mage is here!”

Suspended in midair, Anplus looked down at the flames rising higher than his height and steadied himself.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared up at him in shock.

BOOM!

The moment he crashed down from above, the paving stones shattered with a thunderous roar.

Pushing through the thick cloud of dust, he pulled his ankle free from where it had sunk into the ground.

“My lord, please spare us!”

“It’s too late, kill him!”

“Bury the noble bastard!”

The reactions of the slum dwellers split cleanly into two groups.

Those who had already lost their will to fight bowed their heads, while those who clenched their teeth and burned with rage.

Anplus’s attention fixed entirely on the latter.

In a world ruled by mages, if they could not be pacified, they would all end up dead in the end.

He raised his voice to the sky and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“The man up there is a spy from the Imperial Family! I will not hold those of you who were merely deceived responsible! Even now, if you prostrate yourselves and swear loyalty, I will spare every one of you!”

Those who had already lost their fighting spirit bowed without hesitation.

“Thank you for sparing us.”

“I told you, didn’t I? I said there was something off about him.”

But those burning with anger reacted even more fiercely.

“Do you think we’d believe that?”

“Don’t insult our teacher, knight!”

“Don’t back down! He’s not a mage, he’s just a knight! If we attack together, we can kill him!”

A man wielding a club studded with nails shouted.

“That bastard’s a noble’s dog! He’s not even true blue blood, yet he struts around. We hate trash like you even more!”

“Disgusting bastards!”

“Everyone, get up and protect the teacher!”

“If the teacher is an imperial spy, then so are we!”

Snap.

Anplus felt a line break inside his head.

From his very first mission, he had been opposing the Imperial Family, and his most recent mission had been defeating imperial assassins sent to kill Ribelia.

Those who defended the Imperial Family were impossible to look upon kindly.

“If the teacher is a spy, then so are we!”

That chant spread like wildfire among those who had risen.

Ironically, the man standing on the platform himself looked flustered.

“My lord, they—”

A woman prostrated herself at Anplus’s feet.

“They?”

Anplus paused and looked down at her.

“They’ve already gone blind. What could people like us possibly know? He gave us food and told us nice things, so we thought he was someone to be grateful to.”

“But little by little, the atmosphere started to feel strange. He kept comparing the Imperial lords and the Intezeruto lords.”

“That figures.”

It was the first step of manipulating public sentiment.

“And then we heard Lady Ribelia was attacked by imperial bastards. Even after hearing that, the teacher tried to defend the Imperial Family. It felt wrong, but since he gave us food, we had no choice but to stick around. Now that I’ve heard your words, I think I finally understand why. I’ve committed a crime worthy of death.”

Anplus did not rebuke her.

All they had to eat were rancid offal, wilted vegetable leaves, watery gruel, and dried crusts of bread.

He knew well what kind of thoughts took root in people who were exhausted and starving.

“Your loyalty, unbroken even in hunger, is admirable.”

He took out all the biscuits he had brought and placed them into her hands.

Her eyes widened like oil lamps.

“Eat quietly, where no one can see. They’re made from fine grain, so if you have children, they’ll digest it well too.”

Murmuring softly, Anplus then raised his voice so all the kneeling slum dwellers could hear.

“Large-scale land reclamation projects are underway across the realm! Those who wait patiently and register their names will receive land and begin new lives!”

“Don’t believe him! Who do you think collected those taxes last year!”

“If you want new lives and land, lay down your weapons right now and bow your heads! I will ask no further questions and demand nothing more!”

“How long are we supposed to endure and wait? At this rate, we’ll be bled dry forever by the Intezeruto house head! Let’s create a world without blue blood!”

“I will ensure you eat well and live well on fertile land reclaimed by magic! Prove your loyalty by bowing your heads and show that you are worthy of going there!”

Among those raging with weapons in hand, some began to hesitate.

Anplus pressed on without pause.

“If you’re afraid to lay down your weapons immediately, then at least do not block my path. That, too, will be taken as loyalty equal to those who bow!”

Some seemed to make up their minds and bowed their heads, while others quietly slipped backward.

In the end, those who continued to burn with fighting spirit amounted to about two-tenths of the original crowd.

“Traitors!”

“Fine by me. We’ll do this ourselves.”

“Everyone, surround the teacher! Don’t let the knight reach him!”

Even so, their numbers were close to a thousand.

Once again, Anplus keenly realized the necessity of the nameless families.

If the crowd had grown any larger, there might truly have been no choice but violent suppression.

“I gave you more than enough chances.”

A chill crept into his voice.

“I would like nothing more than to cut you down, but you are still subjects of our house. Even those who have not yet retreated will be given one last chance.”

He stepped forward and spoke.

“I’ll say it again. Do not point your weapons at me. Do that, and you will be forgiven.”

“Attack!”

“Surround him!”

Dozens of slum dwellers charged with bloodshot eyes.

***

I looked at the dozens of arms, legs, spears, blades, and bodies surging toward me like a wave.

I must not be grabbed.

In a melee, you don’t die from being cut down, but from being crushed, suffocated, bitten, or having your eyes gouged out.

“Can’t even use magic, yet you blue bloods look down on us!”

Someone’s shout twisted my expression.

I felt my emotions waver.

I never thought I’d hear that even from red bloods.

“Haa.”

I let out a small sigh.

To save even one more person, I had to show overwhelming power.

I had to make them understand that I possessed a miracle-like strength they couldn’t help but accept.

I planted my feet firmly into the ground like a breakwater.

“BUMP”

I drove power from my legs to my hips, from my hips to my back, and from my back to my arms.

I squeezed my muscles to their limit, expanding the arc of my strike.

I could feel it now, without needing such intense focus.

The unity of the sword and my hand as one.

I swung my blade toward dozens of scrawny arms like cornstalks, yellowed teeth, and twisted faces.

Shraaaaaaash!

The new sword’s blade was long and heavy.

The feedback of cutting through air and flesh surged back several times stronger, and it felt good.

In the next instant, dozens of thin hands, heads, and ribcages flew into the air.

“!?”

The man standing on the crates stared at me with his mouth hanging open.

He, too, was trapped within the crowd, unable to flee.

I gave him a thin smile.

“I’ll be there soon.”

As if in response, a slum dweller who had chosen rebellion to the very end shouted.

“Protect the teacher!”

Those enraged by the speech and horrified by the flames charged at me like zombies.

It was as if they’d taken some kind of drug.

There’s an old saying that large armies don’t need tactics.

No matter how strong I was or how well I wielded my sword, if dozens piled on, crushed me, and stabbed me with daggers, I would fall.

They knew that, and so did the man on the platform.

That was why I couldn’t let them close the distance.

I had given them enough chances.

This was their choice.

And choices carried responsibility.

In the Eternal Empire, the weight of responsibility was the weight of one’s life.

So, I would cut them all down.

I lowered my body and unleashed merciless slashes.

With every swing, red blood and limbs flew through the air.

“Grab him!”

“Charge!”

“Surround him! That bastard bleeds just like us!”

They swarmed in from all sides.

I launched myself into the air and kicked my legs up high.

My tilted body spun four times, carving a diagonal path.

The hands, arms, and heads of the slum dwellers rushing me flew up like branches caught in a vortex.

Still, I frowned.

“Push forward!”

“Hurry up and die! We said we’d give our lives!”

There were still too many enemies.

After cutting down so many, my rotational force had dropped somewhat.

I needed a way to add more power.

“I’ll smash your skull, knight bastard!”

A man rushed in wielding both a nail-studded club and a dagger.

Foolish.

Handling two weapons was ten times harder than mastering one.

That was no technique a man like him could use.

I drove my gauntleted left fist up into his lower jaw.

Crack.

His jaw twisted aside, and teeth flew.

I glanced toward the agitator on the platform.

His eyes dared me to come, brazen and defiant.

“How dare you.”

As I kicked off the ground again, I reached to my waist with my left hand.

A dark, wave-patterned blade slid free.

In my right hand, the long, milky-white blade of the new sword.

In my left, a standard-issue wave-patterned knight’s sword.

Yes, this was ten times harder than wielding a single blade.

I divided my heartbeat into eight beats and took control of my body.

First came the flight of a wasp.

I couldn’t recall whether it was a ground wasp or a hornet, but that didn’t matter.

Watching a rusted spear fly toward me, I launched my body into the air.

The sensation of cracked paving stones splitting beneath my soles was vivid.

I spun five times in midair, swinging both swords.

Clack, crack, slice, thud.

The sounds of rebels being cut, torn apart, and bursting made my heart pound.

Torn arms, shattered weapons, and heads split in half or diagonally slammed into the ground.

“Don’t push!”

“Go! Just go! We’re already committed!”

“Give us bread!”

“Knight bastard!”

Faced with a field of over a dozen corpses, the rioters hesitated for the first time.

Now.

My instincts screamed that this was the moment to press in.

If I broke their momentum, they wouldn’t charge again.

I lunged forward with a large step, and they leveled their weapons.

I pivoted on my right foot and spun wide.

With the sword in my right hand, I knocked aside the incoming spears.

At the same time, I tightened my waist and flank, lowering my body and pouring power into the knight’s sword in my left.

Shraaaash!

As the wave-patterned blade cut through the tide of slum dwellers, their ill-intentioned weapons and unlucky hands fell away in unison.

As I began to get the hang of it, a faint smile crossed my lips.

Now I understood how to wield dual swords.

They were harder to apply centrifugal force with and demanded far more strength.

In exchange, they reduced blind spots in encirclement.

“Block him! Just block him, you scarecrows!”

A tall rebel shoved his comrades aside and pushed forward.

Beside him, a strangely obese man for a slum dweller swung a nail-studded club.

Those two were clearly fully recruited enforcers.

They had to be cut down.