Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 155

“Damn it…!”

The knight standing next to platinum-haired youth, First Prince Rohiter von Grandia of the Grandia family, was the first to move. Despite his youthful appearance, the brilliant red Force Blade suggested he was one of the secret forces concealed by the Second Prince’s faction. However, in the current situation, he did not hold enough power to be a variable.

“Smash it to pieces!”

At Logan’s impassive command, the red stones held by the nearby knights poured into the cracked void of the air, like hail.

BOOOOM!

Dozens of rarely used magic bombs detonated simultaneously with a massive blast, as they broke through the enemy’s main encampment. Though not intentionally, the barrier that had begun to fade consumed the shockwaves that should have spread in all directions. Inside, the shockwaves were reflected, inadvertently amplifying the bombs’ destructive force.

When the transparent barrier finally disappeared and the devastated camp came into view, Logan was able to face the First Prince, who had survived with only minor burns among the charred corpses. Likely, he had been shielded by the heartfelt protection of other knights and mages, but in these circumstances, it was meaningless.

“You have quite the tenacious life.”

“How dare… You bastard! Get lost!”

While tempted to taunt that ridiculous retort, Logan noticed the enemy troops encircling them were about to move.

SNAP.

Without wanting to drag out the time, Logan cut the First Prince’s throat in a single strike. The prince’s head rolled pathetically on the ground. Lifting it on the tip of his sword, Logan announced loudly, “I have cut off Rohiter von Grandia’s head!” No further explanation was needed. By taking out the figure meant to be king after the civil war, the First Prince’s army would plunge into panic just from that proclamation.

However…

“Catch him and you’ll be rewarded! Whoever brings me the head of McLaine, the House of Douglas, upon its honor, will be rewarded with 100 million gold!” Suddenly, a voice filled with rage echoed across the entire battlefield, casting a moment of silence over the warzone—a tangible, astronomical bounty.

“What moronic blabber,” Logan scoffed, clicking his tongue. Anyone with a minimum of sense could see the flaw in that argument. It was uncertain if the House of Douglas, responsible for the civil war, would even exist after the war’s end, let alone have the capability to deliver such a reward. Even in the best case, would the duke actually be willing to part with such wealth?

From any perspective, the furious proclamation from Juan Douglas was nothing but a desperate outcry. But only a minority on this mad battlefield could retain the calmness and composure to think that way.

“AAAAAH!”

“Attack!”

“It’s the redhead! It’s him!”

To the soldiers of the First Prince’s army, it seemed like a life-changing treasure had appeared before them. To the uneducated majority, the House of Douglas was as an eternal symbol of power just like the royal family, one that could never be brought down.

Realizing their misunderstanding, Logan sighed in frustration. ‘I thought this was going too smoothly.’ Recently, he had begun to doubt his own intelligence more frequently than he’d have liked.

It was fortunate, though, that he could see the Militia, armed with repeating crossbows from the Aegis Fortress, streaming out through the city gates. Thanks to the efforts of the Esperanza Order and their own faction’s elites regrouping, Logan could make a decision more easily now. Regardless of the complications,

“We will hit the Second Prince’s army! Signal with the flags! Focus the fortress’s forces on the Second Prince’s troops!” If the Second Prince fell, the war would end.

“But, my lord, the First Prince’s army is surrounding us…”

“We’ll break through with our own strength! Crossbow cavalry unite and guard all sides! Shoot down anyone who approaches and the knights will clear a path following me!”

“Yes!”

It was a somewhat reckless decision that invited the possibility of great sacrifices. Nonetheless, if successful, it could end everything.

“Logan, Yordan will be by the Second Prince’s side. He still hasn’t made a move.”

“We’ll make it work somehow.”

‘I’m prepared to risk any danger.’

Perhaps even he was intoxicated by the battlefield’s madness, Logan marched forward without hesitation. But the situation was different from when they advanced toward the First Prince’s base.

CRACK.

“AAAH!”

“Damn monster!”

“Die!”

A golden greatsword slashed horizontally across the ground, instantly producing dozens of corpses. Amidst the overwhelming force, the enemy soldiers behind them rushed towards Logan undeterred.

To the front, soldiers and knights of the Baron’s faction pressed on relentlessly, and behind them, the knights of the Valdermaine Order mercilessly cut down anyone who fell behind—an overwhelming force, the largest knight order of the kingdom, clashing with the highest—the Esperanza—and now more than half had been redeployed from Aegis Fortress to block the path of Logan and McLaine’s elite.

And even then, they apprehensively resorted to the vilest methods.

Even as Logan, who had been cleaving through the enemy’s front lines, started to slow down, the McLaine knights behind him began to struggle.

Logan eventually resorted to his last stratagem.

“Grant permission to use the Liberatio! Clear the path at all costs!”

The order dropped—permission, no, a command to use the magic bombs that each knight had only a few of, which they had saved for the very last resort.

“URGH!”

As he slayed an enemy, McLaine knight Roselio felt the penetrating blade of an enemy sword in his chest.

‘Too many of them… Damn.’

Luckily, as he still found himself able to think, it seemed his heart had narrowly escaped; however, the wound was critical, one that could not be sustained in battle. Moreover, the real issue lay elsewhere: the magic bombs within the silver armor with the flame emblem, which had begun to heat up from the impact.

Unlike his comrades, who had picked just a few Liberatios for easier mobility, he carried more than ten.

If they detonated in this situation…

‘All my comrades will die.’

“You shouldn’t be greedy with these bombs or you’ll end up stabbed before you even use one.”

“If you get hit in the chest first, isn’t that the end? If we take that kind of hit, the armor’s pressure will set off a chain explosion. Ah, Rosé, if that’s the case, just grab an enemy and blow yourself up with them, don’t take us with you.”

The cruel jokes of his longtime friends and comrades flashed one after another in his mind.

‘Damn it… Leo, you bastard. I told you to watch your tongue, didn’t I?’

“Rosé!”

He detested the nickname ‘Rose’ on a regular day, but now it sounded even more irritating with the unmistakable worry hidden behind it. Yet, that concern gave Roselio enough strength to shout back fiercely as he gathered his weakening energy.

“STAY AWAY!”

Refusing to pull the sword embedded in his chest, as it felt like all strength might ebb away with it, Roselio hugged the beheaded enemy’s corpse and lunged into the enemy ranks.

“Take care of my son, Leo!”

He tried to shout his final farewell, but whether the words came out properly was hard to tell amidst spurting blood. But it didn’t matter; even if Leo hadn’t heard him, he would take care of Roselio’s son; they had made that promise before marching to war.

Although the McLaine house would probably care for him, the knight, having been recognized by the McLaine for only a year, trusted his friend more than his house. After all, he had joined this perilous war not out of loyalty to his house but because he couldn’t abandon his friends and comrades.

‘I’m counting on you, Leo.’

Even as his vision darkened, his son’s face remained clear in his mind.

‘I’m sorry, Russell.’

With that silent apology to his left-behind son, an intense explosion erupted, centered around Roselio, covering dozens of meters.

BOOOOM!

“AHHH! You bastards!!”

Following the death of Roselio, a knight who had held a high reputation within the order, several McLaine knights chose to take the enemy down with them if they felt they were about to die. As the McLaine offensive stalled amid enemy retaliation, they began to throw Liberatios one after another, regaining their momentum.

Then, Patrick stepped forward, accelerating the pace.

“Logan. Stand back for a moment. I’ll clear the path no matter what!”

“Father?”

“I see that gray head of Yordan’s. No one but you should cut off his head… URGH!”

CRACK.

Boosted beyond his limits, Patrick wielded his Force Blade, which seemed to surge to 1.5 times its normal size, and cleaved through the enemy lines.

“Save your strength! I will ensure you make it to him!”

A forehead slick with cold sweat. An exhausted body. Hands that began to tremble.

Despite appearing on the verge of collapse amidst all these enemies, Patrick’s men trusted him implicitly.

“We believe in you, my lord!”

“We may not match the commander, but!”

“We can handle this much!”

Pfram, Hector, Jeddy—McLaine’s oldest and most accomplished high-guard knights and, in effect, Patrick’s disciples—gathered around their lord.

“We will open the way for you!”

While only at the intermediate level, in that moment, all knights showed the boldness of none less than Patrick himself.

“YAAAAH!”

With a powerful cry and swiping red Force Blades, they opened up the front.

“HERE I GO!”

“I’m here too!”

The veteran knights threw their bodies into the fray, mending gaps. Wounds accumulated on their bodies, but their sacrifice kept the pace of the knight order’s advance constant.

Unfortunately, mere bravery could not always make dreams reality. When Yordan’s face finally seemed to come into view, the Second Prince’s army, noticing the dwindling Liberatios, reassembled their ranks while the First Prince’s forces penetrated their rear with a rain of crossbow bolts. Essentially, they’d become the center of a completed encirclement.

Facing complete encirclement as Logan grit his teeth and prepared to lead the charge, Patrick saw it.

A sardonic grin.

Whether Yordan actually sneered or it was merely Patrick’s imagination did not matter.

‘I want to see your face crumple!’

In a rush of boiling blood and an instant of inspiration, Patrick flipped his sword.

“Logan!”

“Yes?!”

Before his puzzled son’s eyes, Patrick showed off the transformed Force Blade, now flat and wide—a shape impossible to achieve under normal circumstances, disallowed for ordinary high-grade knights. He didn’t understand how he’d managed it himself; it was a new Force Blade born of a burst of rage and a spark of genius.

As a tight-lipped Logan stepped up onto the Force Blade,

“GO!”

A tensile Force Blade catapulted the armored youth high into the sky, dozens of meters above.

“Enemy in the sky!”

“He’s heading for His Excellency!”

“Stop him!”

As his subordinates panicked, a taut Yordan managed a bitter smile. His forces were gradually shedding the relentless assault of the other three superhumans and the McLaine elite were utterly surrounded.

The lingering presence of the Esperanza Order could pose trouble, but they would be annihilated after dealing with McLaine and his men.

‘The losses can be replenished with the First Prince’s men.’

The nobles of the headless First Prince’s faction would eventually gravitate towards him. After all, they could not join McLaine or the forces that had killed their nominal lord.

In a sense, the naive boy who killed the First Prince could be considered a benefactor to him.

Thus,

“I’ll handle him myself! Clean up the rest!”

He’d ensure a glorious end to the battle.

“You won’t get away so easily, Logan McLaine. I’ll make sure to kill you personally.”

Yordan Valdermaine, the kingdom’s second strongest aura user, greeted Logan with a deadly smirk.

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