The barbarian warriors couldn't properly respond to the attacks of the Rayfold cavalry striking their flanks.
The enemy in front wasn't easily pushed back, and the forces hitting their sides weren't weak either. The formation quickly collapsed and wavered.
When focus is disrupted, a force's strength inevitably disperses as well.
Boom!
The Rayfold Army, which had previously appeared to be retreating, now pressed the barbarians with overwhelming force.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Spears thrust out from gaps in their shields, and the barbarian warriors had no choice but to take the blows helplessly.
"Arghhh!"
"What are you doing? Push them back!"
"Block the flanks!"
The warriors fell into chaos, and no one was there to properly command them. Their leadership was too preoccupied with trying to stop Ghislain.
Although there were great warriors among them, they didn't have the ability to lead such a massive force effectively.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
The Rayfold Army steadily killed the disorganized barbarians as they advanced.
They moved like emotionless puppets, their precision so chilling it was unnerving to watch.
Thud!
As the Rayfold heavy infantry advanced, the barbarian formation crumbled even further.
Despite their considerable strength, the barbarians' light armor couldn't withstand the sudden cavalry assault.
They tried desperately to turn the tide, but it was already too late. Their formation was in shambles, and their command was nonexistent.
No matter how many they were, it was meaningless. Their combat style was no different from individual brawling.
In battle, the outcome often hinges on which side's morale breaks first. That's why mental discipline is always emphasized.
The barbarians, who lived only by pillaging, had never learned such discipline.
"Damn it! Run away!"
"Pull back and regroup!"
"Regroup? Are you stupid? We're being annihilated here!"
The warriors at the rear began fleeing first. With no way to recover the situation, they prioritized their own survival.
They loved to fight, but they had no honor or loyalty.
Once a retreat began, the army reached a point of no return. Even warriors who had no intention of fleeing began to follow suit.
The real problem was the warriors trapped in the middle. They had nowhere to run.
"Just escape to the river!"
"Let's cross!"
"Hurry up!"
Eventually, warriors began jumping into the river in droves, desperate to swim to the other side.
Amelia, observing the battlefield, extended her hand toward the river.
Creak…
The archers positioned at the rear turned their bodies, drawing their bowstrings.
"Fire."
Whoosh!
A rain of arrows descended on the barbarians fleeing toward the river.
Countless arrows pierced the fleeing warriors. Defenseless, they couldn't avoid the hail of arrows.
"Arghhh!"
Hearing the barbarians' screams, Amelia turned her gaze away.
Boom! Boom!
The waiting mages also targeted the barbarians, avoiding their allies.
The Rayfold Army was completely overwhelming the barbarians. All they needed to do now was press forward.
The warriors remaining at the rear would be dealt with by Ghislain.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Ghislain was still rampaging atop the Black King.
Distracted by Ghislain, the barbarians couldn't respond properly to the charges of Fenris and Perdium. Their formation was in disarray, held together only by their sheer numbers.
But eventually, time would wear them all down.
"This… What is this…"
Waroka was in chaos. He needed to recover the situation, but with attacks coming from all directions, he didn't know where to start.
Flash! Boom!
Fire and lightning began flashing, scattering the warriors. The mages had entered the battle.
The remaining priests of the Church of Salvation were powerless to stop them.
"Hold the line! Don't run! Stand your ground!"
All Waroka could do was scream at his warriors to hold their ground. Despite their superior numbers, they were being pushed back, and he didn't understand why.
As he shouted, a chilling premonition made him turn his head—and he froze.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Ghislain, cloaked in dark red energy, was cutting through warriors as he charged straight toward him.
With the chaos around them, no one could block or surround Ghislain.
The great warrior Monga, standing beside Waroka, rushed forward, swinging his axe.
Clang!
But when it clashed with Ghislain's spear, the axe shattered into pieces. Monga was decapitated by a follow-up strike before he could even react.
"Guh…"
Encased in the dark red energy, Ghislain was unstoppable.
Though he was expending more power than usual, the effort was worth it to boost his allies' morale and minimize their losses.
Boom! Boom!
With every swing of Ghislain's spear, the great warriors guarding Waroka fell like flies.
"You bastard!"
Waroka swung his massive axe at the oncoming Ghislain.
BOOM!
Ghislain's spear finally came to a halt.
Waroka was one of the North's most formidable warriors, but he didn't think he could defeat Ghislain.
'Kustu couldn't beat him and died.'
Kustu, who had once vied with Waroka for the title of the North's greatest warrior, had failed to defeat a younger Ghislain.
And now, this Ghislain, enveloped in dark smoke and glowing red eyes like a demon, had returned as something far beyond human. There was no chance of victory.
As if reading Waroka's thoughts, Ghislain smirked and spoke.
"Don't worry too much. I'm not the one who'll kill you."
"What?"
Whoosh!
Suddenly, someone leaped from behind Ghislain. Waroka quickly stepped back, raising his axe.
Clang!
When he looked closer, it was some young warrior. Confused, Waroka asked, "Who the hell are you?"
"Arel."
"What? Who's that?"
"I'm the one who's going to kill you."
Arel exuded a fiery intensity.
Still bewildered, Waroka watched as Ghislain laughed and said, "He's my disciple. If you can beat him, I'll let you go. I'll even clear the way for you to escape."
Waroka's face turned beet red. The nerve to say such a thing to him!
Though deeply humiliated, Waroka gritted his teeth and refrained from lashing out. Unlike the other warriors, he was cunning and calculating.
Ghislain's offer was demeaning, but if it meant survival, he would take it. He could always rebuild his strength later.
In any case, the battle was already lost. Their numbers were meaningless; the warriors were in complete disarray and couldn't be controlled.
"Don't forget your promise," Waroka said, baring a fierce grin as he swung his axe at Arel like lightning.
There was no way, he thought, that a warrior of his caliber would lose to some rookie.
BOOM!
Waroka's axe collided with Arel's sword.
Ghislain glanced at them briefly before continuing to clear the nearby warriors, ensuring they wouldn't interfere with the duel.
Clang!
'What is this guy?!'
Waroka gritted his teeth as he swung his axe repeatedly. The young warrior might look like a novice, but his skills were extraordinary.
On top of that, Arel radiated immense rage, as if declaring he would kill Waroka no matter what.
Clang!
As their weapons clashed again, Waroka asked, "Do you have some grudge against me?"
"I'm avenging my village and my family."
"You lunatic. Who keeps track of every little thing like that?"
Waroka smirked derisively. It was all too clear what had happened.
He had pillaged countless places throughout his life. This young man must have been a survivor from one of them.
Seeing Waroka's mocking grin, Arel clenched his teeth.
'I'll kill him, no matter what.'
To Arel, the barbarians were the perpetual scourge of the North, and his rage was now entirely directed at their leader, Waroka.
If he could, he would kill every single barbarian himself, but that was impossible. Still, if they won this war, the barbarians would undoubtedly fall.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The two clashed again.
Since becoming Ghislain's disciple, Arel had grown tremendously. His ability to fight evenly against Waroka, one of the North's greatest warriors, was proof of that.
"What is this?! How can a brat like this possess such skill!"
Waroka couldn't accept it.
He knew there were strong individuals in Fenris besides the Bloody Demon, but he had never imagined a mere brat could fight him on equal footing.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Arel's sword attacked Waroka with sharp intensity. His movements bore a striking resemblance to the swordsmanship used by Ghislain.
The knights of Fenris also desired strength, but their natural disposition and ingrained habits prevented them from maintaining that desire for long. That's why Ghislain often forced them into training.
But Arel was different.
'I've been waiting for this day!'
Because of the barbarians, he had lost his family, his friends, and his village. He vowed never to lose anyone again.
Fueled by his desire for revenge, Arel trained tirelessly. Without being told, he pushed himself to his limits.
Seeing his determination, Ghislain taught Arel a more dangerous and powerful mana cultivation technique and personally instructed him in his swordsmanship.
As a result of his relentless self-discipline, Arel reached a level far beyond that of the knights of his territory.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The clash of their weapons produced sparks as the fight raged on without pause.
"You insolent…!"
Waroka's pride was deeply wounded, his eyes twitching with anger.
Realizing he couldn't win against Arel with technique alone, he quickly changed his tactics.
"Stop messing around, brat!"
Boom!
Abandoning defense, he began to overwhelm Arel with brute strength.
Whoosh!
Wounds started appearing all over Waroka's body.
But he ignored them, avoiding only fatal injuries, and pressed forward, determined to end the fight in a single decisive blow.
Like a raging beast, his ferocity pushed Arel further and further back.
"Raaaargh!"
Waroka was like an enraged bear. Though typically cautious and calculated, in battle, he unleashed his warrior's instincts without restraint.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
With each clash of their weapons, Arel's sword trembled. Realizing he couldn't retreat any further, Arel planted his feet firmly on the ground.
Believing he had gained the upper hand, Waroka swung his axe with all his might and roared.
"Die!"
He poured every ounce of strength into this strike, aiming to cleave Arel in half.
BOOM!
Unable to withstand Waroka's immense power, Arel's sword shattered. The axe that broke his sword slashed down like lightning, leaving a deep gash across Arel's chest.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed into the air. Grinning cruelly, Waroka raised his axe again.
The blow had slightly missed, but he was ready to strike again with full force.
Whoosh!
Thunk!
"What? What's happening?"
As Arel reached out his hand, the axe's trajectory shifted slightly. It was a technique Ghislain had taught him: releasing mana outward.
Though Arel couldn't use it as freely as Ghislain, it was enough to avoid immediate danger.
Waroka's axe, hurtling down with great momentum, veered off course with even a slight disruption to its path.
Boom!
The axe struck the ground, embedding itself deeply.
Not missing the opportunity, Arel quickly moved in and swung his broken sword at Waroka.
"You…!"
In that moment, Waroka saw it: the terrifying murderous intent burning in Arel's eyes.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been difficult for Arel, with a broken sword, to inflict a critical wound on a giant like Waroka. But now, with his axe stuck in the ground, Waroka's upper body was bent forward.
This allowed Arel's broken sword to pierce Waroka's throat.
Stab!
"Guh…!"
But Waroka didn't die. Even in that state, he tried to lift his axe and fight back.
Gritting his teeth, Arel quickly withdrew his sword and stabbed again.
Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!
Each thrust carried Arel's emotions.
'I will avenge them!'
He poured into each strike the memory of his parents, who had died resisting the barbarians. The memories of his villagers, who fought alongside him and perished.
He channeled the despair he felt watching his village burn and the anguish he endured seeing the corpses of his friends scattered everywhere.
He had lived with these emotions bottled up, enduring silently because there was nothing else he could do.
Finally, those feelings burst forth.
"Raaaaaagh!"
Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!
Tears of blood streamed down Arel's face as he relentlessly stabbed Waroka's neck.
Nothing around him mattered anymore. All his hatred and fury toward the barbarians were concentrated on their leader, Waroka.
Stab! Stab! Stab!
"Grrrk…"
Blood bubbled from Waroka's mouth. His grip on his axe had long since loosened.
Though his vitality was remarkable, it was effectively over.
Stab! Stab! Stab!
Thud.
Even so, Arel didn't stop stabbing at Waroka's neck until Ghislain grabbed his hand.
"My lord…"
Ghislain looked at Arel, whose face had turned ghostly with rage and whose eyes were filled with bloody tears.
"It's over."
Snapping back to reality, Arel turned to look at Waroka. His lifeless eyes had lost their light, and his body slumped to the ground.
Boom!
Cheers erupted around them.
"Wow! That was incredible!"
"As expected from the lord's disciple!"
"We knew it from the way he trained so hard!"
The knights and soldiers fighting nearby had already crushed the barbarian formation and made their way here.
The barbarian warriors were utterly defeated, unable to escape, and were being slaughtered.
"Hah… Hah…"
Arel, panting heavily, received the cheers from those around him.
He was disoriented, but he felt a strange sense of relief. The fact that he had killed Waroka still felt surreal, leaving him speechless.
Ghislain smiled at Arel and asked, "How do you feel?"
"Ah…"
Overcome by emotion, Arel couldn't answer immediately, taking a deep breath instead. A flood of feelings overwhelmed him, almost bringing him to tears.
But above all else…
"It feels like the fire that's been burning inside me has finally been extinguished."
No matter how much he trained or meditated, something inside him had never disappeared.
It gnawed at him, night after night, tormenting him endlessly.
Even so, Arel had kept it all inside, refusing to let it spill out for fear of burdening the estate.
Ghislain had known this. He had pitied Arel, who always wore a stern expression and dedicated himself solely to training. He understood Arel's pain because he had experienced something similar himself.
Now, Arel could finally find some peace.
"Well done."
Ghislain's warm words brought a look of gratitude to Arel's face.
"...Thank you."
Without Ghislain, none of this would have been possible.
It was his teachings that had allowed Arel to grow to this point and ultimately kill Waroka, the barbarian leader.
Looking around the battlefield, Arel murmured, "This is… enough for me."
Arel was content. He had avenged the people of his village, who had been trampled by the barbarians.
Where he stood, the northern barbarians were being annihilated. Although he hadn't led the effort, he had contributed to the war.
And he had personally killed the leader of the barbarians.
Holding up Waroka's severed head as proof, Arel shouted loudly,
"The chieftain of the Sunstone Tribe! Waroka is dead!"
It was a cry that released all the pain he had held inside. His voice echoed across the battlefield.
The war with the barbarians was over. The North would no longer suffer under their invasions.
This was what Arel had wished for, even more than revenge.
[T/L: Please support me and read 385 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]