LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 149
Translator: FenrirTL
Editor: Doodle, Eyes
=================
Chapter 149: The Sorceress Empress (4)
Drake’s blade was completely covered in dragon scales.
Every time it trembled, the scales clashed against each other, producing a metallic clattering sound that unleashed an overwhelming surge of energy.
It felt like witnessing a living sacred artifact.
It was as if a dragon from legend had appeared, coiling and twisting with life.
‘I couldn’t read it…!’
Dien, an assassin of the Black Shadow Sword Unit, gritted his teeth tightly.
The Black Shadow Sword Unit was a guild of assassins operating in the northern regions.
Among them, Dien was one of the organization’s best, second only to the guild leader. He excelled in stealth and infiltration techniques.
But even he had been unable to read the recent attack.
Despite the tremendous surge of energy contained within it.
It wasn’t just the sheer intensity of the aura—it was also astonishingly precise, discreet, and swift.
‘This is an opponent I cannot defeat.’
While keeping an eye on Drake’s blade, Dien simultaneously scanned for an escape route.
Facing an opponent capable of wielding a blade of that caliber head-on offered no chance of victory.
At that moment, the violently quaking blade suddenly shot upwards into the air with fierce momentum.
Dien, startled, quickly activated his stealth technique.
A skill that allowed him to draw shadows around himself, blending seamlessly into the air like a veil.
Fortunately, the area was filled with thick, white smoke created by Barosa, offering many hiding spots.
It seemed Barosa had noticed Dien’s intention, thickening the density of the smoke.
However—
“You’re not going anywhere.”
At that moment, Ray slammed his frost-covered hand against the ground with great force.
Crack-crack-crack!
The icy ground spread rapidly, blanketing the air with a thick frost.
Even Barosa’s white smoke abruptly condensed.
Naturally, Dien’s stealth technique couldn’t be completed in time.
“You said you’d tear out my throat before the wolf bared its fangs, didn’t you?”
Selperd didn’t miss the opportunity.
“But what do we do now that you’ve failed?”
“…!”
Dien’s widened eyes caught the sight of Selperd rushing toward him.
Selperd’s appearance was somewhat different from before.
In his right hand, he gripped his usual broadsword. In his left, he held a short dagger, roughly 60 centimeters in length, in a reverse grip.
Naturally, his movements were far from ordinary.
Swish-swish-swish!
The broadsword, enveloped in aura, moved ferociously, relentlessly pursuing Dien, while the dagger shot forward like an arrow whenever a gap appeared.
This was a unique art of the Gardner family, requiring absolute mastery of two entirely distinct sword techniques to execute flawlessly.
Clang-clang-clang!
Dien struggled desperately to shake off Selperd, but the broadsword relentlessly clung to him, disrupting any attempt to deploy his stealth technique.
Then, the wolf’s fang struck Dien’s neck from the side in a single, swift motion.
Slash!
Blood spurted out, splattering across Selperd’s face.
“That’s why you should’ve struck me when you had the chance. Thanks to you, I had to use a technique I never wanted to reveal.”
Selperd’s blood-streaked eyes were filled with madness.
Hatred and fury radiated from him.
He had no desire to show anything reminiscent of the Gardner family’s techniques.
But now that the chance had slipped away, compensation was inevitable.
“You… are one of the rebels…!”
“If you want to ramble, do it in hell.”
Dien mumbled as if trying to say something, but—
Swoosh!
Selperd swung his broadsword without hesitation, severing Dien’s neck.
Without pausing, he dashed toward where he suspected Barosa’s true body to be.
Splash!
Crimson footprints left stark marks on the white frost.
Whistle!
“Damn it! I’ve never heard of anything like this before!”
Barosa increased the toxicity of his mist to its maximum while trying to escape the area at all costs.
If his judgment was correct, Selperd was far from an ordinary Practical Swordsman.
‘That’s undoubtedly the Gardner family’s secret art, long thought lost! How am I supposed to deal with a specter that vanished alongside the Mad Dragon Emperor?’
The Mad Dragon Emperor, the former head of House Ragnar, had disappeared during Kyle’s rebellion.
In the aftermath, the emperor’s loyalists vanished as well, and these individuals came to be known as the Mad Dragon Society.
The Wolf Fang was the ultimate secret technique of a former Gardner family patriarch who was a member of the Mad Dragon Society.
However, with the patriarch’s disappearance, the Wolf Fang had supposedly been lost and was replaced by a new family technique, the Wolf Canine.
And yet, here it was, resurfacing after decades.
Even more astonishing, it wasn’t in the hands of a revered figure but a mere swordsman of the White Armored Dragon Cavalry.
If Demon Dragon didn’t ‘know’ about this, that means the technique had been deliberately hidden from public knowledge.
This could only mean one thing:
– The White Armored Dragon Cavalry had been concealing their claws all along.
And now, by revealing those claws here, their intent was clear:
– Anyone who witnessed this technique would not be allowed to live.
That was precisely why Barosa chose to flee.
He had no desire to die a meaningless death in this place.
On one hand, there was a thought that if the legacy of the Mad Dragon Society remained within the White Armored Dragon Cavalry, it might be possible to ensure the survival of the First Sword Assembly by informing Troyban of this fact.
The problem, however, lay in the speed at which Selperd, who had begun to reveal his madness, moved—much faster than anyone had anticipated.
Booooom!
Meanwhile, the ‘Freezing’ effect from Ray’s Waterflow Breathing Technique had been growing increasingly potent.
In this situation, even the ability to manipulate mist provided little aid.
“I wouldn’t recommend running away,” came a cold voice.
Crash!
In an instant, Selperd’s broadsword was poised against Barosa’s neck.
Barosa, narrowly avoiding the strike, drew his unusually narrow-shaped sword to parry the attack.
“Guh…!”
“Every single one of your footprints is marked.”
“Damn it!”
Struggling to push Selperd away, Barosa staggered back.
With a sudden whoosh, Barosa’s figure dissipated into smoke.
“What an idiot. Even if you scatter into smoke, your footprints are still visible.”
With a cold sneer, Selperd shifted his body to the side. After all, no matter how much one scattered, there would always be a central position.
Shallow footprints were imprinted on the frozen surface, betraying Barosa’s location.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Selperd began his pursuit.
Barosa attempted to escape in any way he could, but time and again, he was cornered by Selperd.
“Hey, at least try harder. Are you leaving blood trails on purpose?”
“Daaaamn yooooou!”
The continuous injuries brought Barosa to the point where using his abilities made no meaningful difference.
No, in fact, it was worse than not using them at all. At least without them, his magic power wouldn’t have drained so rapidly.
“First Sword Assemblyyyyy!”
Finally, his bloodshot eyes blazing, Barosa resorted to his last desperate measure.
“All members! Protect me at all costs!”
There was no verbal reply.
But the swordsmen of the First Sword Assembly responded through their actions.
All of them, with whites of their eyes exposed and foam bubbling at their mouths, charged at Selperd.
“Graaahh!”
“Raaaagh!”
They looked as if they had entirely lost their sanity.
In truth, Barosa had been regularly dosing his subordinates with drugs containing hallucinogenic properties. By blending these drugs into the white mist, he had paralyzed their reason, turning them into berserkers who obeyed only his commands.
“You insane drug addict scumbag!”
As Selperd, now joined by Ray, struggled to fend off the berserk swordsmen of the First Sword Assembly, Barosa burst into boisterous laughter and darted toward the exit.
“Hahaha! Yes! You all can keep squabbling amongst yourselves! I’ll just be on my wa—!”
Barosa’s laughter abruptly stopped as a hand shot out from the entrance and clamped firmly onto his face.
“What exactly are you doing here, Barosa?”
“Mmph! Ugh, mmmph!”
Barosa’s eyes widened, peering out desperately through the gaps between the fingers.
A silent plea to be released.
But the owner of the hand had no such intentions. Instead, the grip tightened mercilessly.
“With this, you’ve fallen to a state even worse than the Rose House you mocked so much earlier. At least they preserved their pride.”
“Mmmpgh!”
“This disgraceful sight—don’t worry. Only I will remember it, and then forget.”
That was the end.
Crunch!
Barosa’s head was crushed, the shattered flesh dropping to the ground in chunks.
“Arin!”
Selperd frowned as he saw the person who had just killed Barosa.
In the man’s left hand, Arin dangled limp, her body drenched in blood.
Kant Thomar.
The leader of the Wandering Knights’ Alliance spoke slowly, his tone calm.
“I’ll return your friend to you.”
With no ceremony, Kant tossed Arin towards Selperd.
Quickly catching her, Selperd checked her breathing. Meanwhile, Ray stepped forward, shielding him from the potential threat.
“You need not worry too much. She’s merely unconscious from severe magic power exhaustion. Her life isn’t in danger.”
Once Selperd confirmed the truth of Kant’s words, he raised his head again.
“What do you want?”
The man before him was an ‘enemy’—one who had betrayed the House of Ragnar and now stood against them on the battlefield.
The fact that Kant had spared them clearly implied a deeper purpose.
“That girl, Cassandra, was it? Just hand her over. Then I will do nothing more and leave quietly.”
“What?”
“I understand. It’s hard to believe someone who says they’ll simply leave. But this war places significant burdens on us as well. Let us negotiate at a level where both sides can compromise.”
From the beginning, Kant had turned his back on the Ragnar House due to his ties with Ed. He had no intention of continuing to participate in a war that brought no tangible benefit to the Wandering Knights’ Alliance.
That resolve had only solidified after crossing swords with Arin.
‘Neither Ragnar nor Troyban understands. This war isn’t just between the two great houses. Something much larger is at play behind the scenes.’
Arin and Selperd.
Now that Kant had discovered that the seeds of the ancient rebels—those who should have vanished alongside the Mad Dragon Society—remained within the White Armored Dragon Cavalry, staying here any longer would be nothing short of suicide.
Kant had spent much of his life wandering the world, accumulating knowledge about the hidden truths that eluded public awareness.
This depth of understanding allowed him to glimpse the faint outlines of ‘truth.’
Thus, he had already decided that after completing this mission, he would leave the North entirely, taking his followers with him.
Of course, to make that happen, he needed to secure Cassandra’s custody.
Selperd opened his mouth, intending to dismiss Kant’s words as nonsense.
But then, he noticed that Kant’s gaze wasn’t directed at him—it was focused on something beyond. Turning his head, Selperd followed his line of sight.
Step, step—
Splash, splash!
Theo was crossing the shattered ice, approaching the blade of Drake, who was still sobbing uncontrollably.
‘He’s changed again!’
Selperd could no longer discern Theo’s nature.
A perfect stillness.
Like Drake’s blade—silent and deadly—but with an even greater power condensed within.
“…….”
Even Ray held her breath, quietly watching Theo.
“Theo Ragnar, I’ve always wanted to meet you at least once,” Kant said. “It’s an honor to meet you in person. As expected, your reputation precedes you. You’re even more extraordinary than I had heard.”
Kant’s intense gaze fixed firmly on Theo.
He was as astonished as Selperd, perhaps even more so.
‘To see the threshold of the extraordinary—such power manifesting in someone so young!’
He felt his hand tremble slightly and, to steady himself, rested it on the hilt of his sword.
“I believe we could resolve this situation without further war. Don’t you agree?”
Instead of replying, Theo drew Drake’s blade and assumed a ready stance.
His frail physique, which seemed ill-suited to the massive sword, no longer appeared small.
“‘King Slayer’ Kant Thomar. The infamous butcher who killed the sovereign you served for over thirty years and burned a royal palace housing hundreds.”
Kant’s expression stiffened.
That dark chapter of his past, the source of his dishonorable moniker, was a history he wished to erase from memory.
“Witnesses who saw you that day all testified that you were smiling.”
“…Baseless slander, nothing more.”
“Well, perhaps. I’m not particularly interested in those details.”
One corner of Theo’s mouth curled upward.
“All I care about is that you’re strong. I’ve heard that even back when you sought refuge with the main house, you were already at the level of an advanced swordsman. I’m told you’re diligent and never neglect your training. So, surely, you’ve improved since then. I’d like to see your skills. Come at me.”
“…A thoroughly unworthy attitude. But undeniably arrogant in a way that suits a Ragnar.”
Click!
Shiiing—
“But arrogance often realizes it’s too late only after it’s been broken.”
Wham!
Kant kicked off the ground with such force that shards of broken ice leapt into the air.
In the fragments, reflecting like a shattered mirror—
Kant was smiling.
A smile like that of a demon.
The same smile witnesses claimed he wore on the day the royal palace burned.