*The concealment ability contained in the Formless Robe (S-) is nearly perfect.
However, that doesn’t guarantee the success of a surprise attack.
To wield mana, one must release the “Insulation” state, and at that moment, the robe’s concealment function also disappears. Moreover, someone with exceptional [Sense] can detect an approach just from air currents.
The opponent before me, Ugo, was the same.
Swish!
Ugo raised his massive shield and swung his axe with his remaining hand. The trajectory drawn in the air severs a bundle of strong wires.
The Barrier (S+) he possesses is a title trait specialized in tenaciously enduring and launching swift counterattacks. When facing an unexpected ambush, it’s natural to choose defense over evasion, and in most situations, that’s a wise judgment.
But this time, things were different.
Because I was a possessor of Reverse Veins.
The portions of strong wire and hooks that clung to Ugo’s body without being severed buzzed with a zing—.
“Keheok…?!”
Suddenly, Ugo’s form staggered. His qi meridians were shaken by the “vibrating qi” that flowed along the strong wires.
He barely suppressed a retch and regained his balance, but,
<Infinity Shock>
Zzzzt!
Lightning derived from the unique spell of the Thunder God Physique conducted along the strong wires. It was lightning on a different level from when I first consumed the Infinite Thunderstone.
“Urgh…!”
Even as pain like an electric shock spread through his entire body, Ugo gritted his teeth and began slicing through the strong wires. It was the mental fortitude and judgment befitting a veteran mercenary.
But…
Pshk!
Having leaped through space in an instant with <Padio Blink>, I drove the blade of Ure into Ugo’s defenseless back.
“Kuhak…! You, you bastard…”
Pshk!
Ignoring the glare that seemed intent on killing, I plunged the Burn Sword into his chest. Immediately after, I activated the explosion-type spell embedded in this sword of flames, <Boost Burn>.
Boom!
Fragmented organs and clumps of blood burst from Ugo’s body, his insides detonated.
I had won.
He was three levels higher than me. But there were differences in traits and skills, in compatibility, and decisively, in equipment. On top of that, the ambush came with considerable luck, so I was able to claim victory with almost absurd ease.
Crack!
Thanks to durability far surpassing human limits, Ugo’s corpse retained its shape more or less.
I rummaged through his belongings and tore off the badge symbolizing an executive.
Caracol Clan’s high-ranking executives totaled thirteen.
Three had died in the knight battle, and now one more had been added.
Nine remained.
Athanas’s audience chamber.
Blasphemously, Citrio Altus was seated on the throne there.
However, in the current Athanas, no one existed who was tactless enough to point that out.
The sole exception might have been Prince Ramon, who claimed succession rights, but ever since the inner castle’s barrier shattered, he had been gnawing his nails with a face as pale as a sheet.
Truly a fitting talent for a puppet king.
Citrio, clicking his tongue, suddenly narrowed his eyes.
Boom!
Immediately after, the audience chamber’s doors shattered with a roar, and through the thick smoke, a heavily armored, muscular old man walked in.
“Hmph, Ebel Stroke, is it.”
“That’s right. Citrio Altus.”
“Impressive, very impressive. I don’t know what tricks you used, but for the northern front’s commander to ally with the pointy-ears is astonishing. Thanks to that, the civil war seems about to end overnight.”
Citrio spoke sarcastically, but Ebel paid it no mind.
“Citrio Altus. I challenge you to a one-on-one duel, staking the honor of both parties.”
“Ha, in this situation where the Blispiel alliance is tightening the encirclement by the moment?”
“Indeed. The fact that you’re waiting here without fleeing in such circumstances means you also intended to fight me, doesn’t it?”
“…!”
Bull’s-eye.
The Caracol side had no chance of victory in this battle.
Knowing this, the reason Citrio waited for Ebel was to defeat him and gain the propaganda value of “the Continent’s Twelve Hero who defeated another Continent’s Twelve Hero.”
If he joined with the Wiblet Empire’s reinforcements and touted such a reputation, not only could he turn the civil war around in one stroke, but he could also aim to restore his forces through imperial support. Since his opponent Ebel had laid the board himself, it was more than ideal for him.
Moreover, to avoid becoming a puppet of the Wiblet Empire, while ordinary clan members might be expendable, the key executives needed to be preserved as much as possible. Now, with Citrio tying down Ebel, was the perfect opportunity for them to escape.
He turned to his subordinates and said,
“All of you, take Prince Ramon and escape Athanas immediately.”
“Understood, Master. We wish you luck.”
Adelio and the other core executives of the clan nodded and swiftly exited the audience chamber.
“Ebel Stroke, I accept your challenge. The priests of the Church of Struggle and the Church of Utility observing the clan war will attest to the existence and authority of this duel.”
With that, Citrio gripped the mace placed at his side.
“M-Master Altus! What in the world is this situation! Surely you’re not planning to abandon us here and tuck tail—”
“Shut up. You’re disrupting my focus.”
Pshk!
Rising from the throne, Citrio casually swung his mace, shattering the head of the rampaging noble.
At that, the retainers instantly fell silent as clams.
Citrio, who usually styled himself a hero and cared about his public reputation, showing such an emotional act meant his nerves were extremely on edge right now.
Soon, the two Twelve Heroes faced each other.
The one to speak first was Citrio.
“Interestingly, the world believes that, excluding the Triple Star, the levels of the Continent’s Twelve Heroes are all about the same.”
“And what of it?”
“Nothing much, just that I suddenly thought I could correct that perception this time. By easily disposing of you, who’s been hailed as the northern strongest knight without knowing how vast the world is.”
“You dare call me a frog in a well.”
Ebel spoke calmly.
Seeing this, Citrio smiled.
Having dedicated his life to the principality, he likely couldn’t grasp it easily. The continent is vast, and among the unknown, there are quite a few powerhouses rivaling the Twelve Heroes.
You’re just a greenhouse flower, Ebel Stroke.
Before founding Caracol Clan, Citrio had wandered the world far and wide, fighting powerhouses from various regions and honing his skills.
There was no way he’d lose here.
Thud!
The ground Citrio stepped on caved in deeply, and in an instant, his form blurred.
The rumored secret art of the Altus family, Thousand Evasion Steps (B), huh.
Calmly reading his opponent’s intent, Ebel raised his heavy sword. The heavy blow from Citrio, who had closed in to point-blank range in a flash, exploded upon him.
Boom!!
It was merely a clash of qi swords.
Yet the aftermath alone unleashed a thunderous roar and storm in the chamber, and the nobles in Prince Ramon’s retinue were sent tumbling across the floor without exception.
This was a duel between Continent’s Twelve Hero-level warriors.
To ordinary humans, it was nothing short of a disaster.
Bang!
This time, Ebel charged at Citrio. Citrio effortlessly deflected the heavy sword thrusting in like a frosty blade by presenting his sturdy rectangular shield.
As Ebel began circulating qi in earnest, his skin turned beet red.
The red sword light from the Stroke Heart Method’s “furious qi” and the green light from the Altus Heart Method’s “mountain king’s qi” collided ferociously.
Bang! Boom! Bang! Bang!
Something closer to explosions than metallic clashes resounded continuously in the chamber.
Boom!
At one point, Citrio thrust out his shield and shoved Ebel’s abdomen. Ebel’s form shot back like an arrow, crashing into the wall, and the collapsing stone debris buried him.
“Hah!”
Soon, Ebel erupted with a shout, expelling qi from his entire body. The rubble surrounding him turned to dust and scattered.
Bang!
Citrio, stepping with Thousand Evasion Steps again, approached Ebel with his shield at the fore.
As the two repeated collisions, the flow of the duel and the outline of its conclusion gradually became visible.
As expected.
Citrio smiled.
<Ebel Stroke>
[Level: 55/55]
[HP: 17] [Strength: 20] [Agility: 13]
[MP: 14] [Spirit: 13] [Sense: 08]
<Citrio Altus>
[Level: 55/55]
[HP: 16] [Strength: 19] [Agility: 15]
[MP: 15] [Spirit: 07] [Sense: 13]
These were the current stat sheets of Ebel and Citrio.
The distributions were generally similar, but Ebel held a relative advantage in [Spirit] value, while Citrio did in [Sense] value.
However, there was a blind spot here.
For warriors, if not mages, the efficiency of the [Spirit] stat was considerably low.
This was because spirit mainly affected mana recovery speed and anti-magic resistance. The anti-magic correction from rising spirit values also influenced qi, making applications like “armor” more sturdy and stable, but that was it.
It offered advantages in guerrilla or prolonged battles, but in such short-term decisive fights, it wasn’t a particularly meaningful strength.
The reason Ebel was still counted among the mid-tier of the Continent’s Twelve Heroes was thanks to his possessed Will of Severe Cold (A), a trait that increased the owner’s skill proficiency and mana output proportional to [Spirit] value.
But that alone couldn’t bridge the technical gap with a same-level warrior arising from the difference in [Sense] stat.
Clang!
Ebel swiftly rolled on the ground and thrust his heavy sword. Citrio deftly deflected it with wondrous shield arts and swung his mace up and down,
Bang!
Ebel, hastily regaining balance, barely parried it and retreated.
“Kuh…!”
“Haha! How underwhelming, Ebel Stroke!!”
With a smile across his face, Citrio pressed him, combining offense and defense with shield arts and blunt weapon techniques. In contrast, Ebel was barely managing to block the attacks.
If eyes were present, one couldn’t miss the advantage and disadvantage.
Ebel widened the distance and caught his breath.
And he suddenly recalled a not-so-distant past.
A frog in a well, huh….
The image of Aiden, who had landed a blow on him using all sorts of equipment and tricks, came to mind.
Right after the defeat, he couldn’t easily recover from the shock, but it soon led to serious reflection.
If I must face a type among the Twelve Hero-level powerhouses who maximizes advantages like that brat Aiden, how should I respond?
Ebel agonized.
And at the end of his deliberation, he reached one conclusion.
Rather than physical training as before, it would be more efficient to introspect his inner self through meditation.
There were results.
As a result.
Ebel recalled his aspiration from the distant past, when he first entered martial arts. He had always pursued the giant’s strike that overwhelmed everything.
Crack.
In an instant, Ebel’s left arm, not gripping the heavy sword, twisted grotesquely. Citrio narrowed his eyes.
This wasn’t some ordinary muscle spasm. It was abnormal.
Crack. Crack. Grind.
Countless tendons bulged on Ebel’s left arm, and its size also swelled rapidly.
“What in the world is this…?”
Before Citrio could voice his question at the bizarre phenomenon, Ebel’s arm, swollen to several meters, swept through the chamber.
Whoosh!
The ensuing wind pressure not only shattered the chandeliers but collapsed the entire ceiling.
It was a transformation-type soul imprint, Slugger (U).
Blispiel’s master, Arent, shouted.
“All forces, advance! Those damned Caracol bastards are already rats in a trap!”
“Waaah!!”
As if responding to that resentful cry, the adventurers from sixteen clans let out roars.
Athanas’s final defensive line, the gate blocking the inner castle’s perimeter, was extremely sturdy.
<Battering Ram>
Boom!
However, it couldn’t hold for even a moment against the joint spell chanted by sixty-seven mages and the combined assault of hundreds of spirits.
Through the breached path, the Blispiel alliance and the Great Forest’s spirit knights poured in.
“Hold until reinforcements arrive!”
But the inner castle’s defenders were also the elite of the elites, with high loyalty. Despite the mind-numbing situation, unlike ordinary soldiers, their morale didn’t break easily.
“The Caracol Clan executives will be here soon! Stop them!”
Following the encouragement, the knights under Prince Ramon raised their full-body shields and advanced to the foremost line in unison.
“We are the Athanas Guardian Knight Order!”
One of the senior knights shouted with venom.
“We are!!”
“The sword and shield that protects the royal family!”
“As long as we can protect His Highness Prince Ramon, sacrificing this one body is no regret!”
Humm— The qi of dozens of elite knights wove densely and imbued the full-body shields they presented at the front. It was a group technique, “qi wall,” that amplified defensive power by resonating the same energy.
In response, the alliance’s clan members drew various weapons and charged.
Boom! The front lines of both sides collided.
Their individual skills were comparable, but the guardian knights had coordinated for a long time. Thus, the defensive wall they formed showed no disarray.
Bang!
They withstood the opponent’s charge.
Bang!
They endured.
Bang!
And endured again.
“Mage corps! What are you doing, not firing spells already!”
The knight captain shouted with fury.
But the mage corps in the rear were gaping with mouths wide open, distracted. A surge of anger rose in the knight captain at their attitude, but curiosity overtook it.
In such a critical situation, what on earth were they looking at?
Ding—
The moment he turned toward the direction of the sudden bell toll, the knight captain, like the mage corps, could only gape wide.
Atop the spire hung the Prince Ramon they sought to protect.
He was unconscious with eyes rolled back, and his crotch was damp as if he’d wet himself. It was a pitiful sight too wretched to behold with open eyes.
“Prince Ramon, who raised rebellion with wicked ambition, has been captured! Surrender peacefully!”
The one shouting that from inside the spire was,
Naturally, Aiden.