A full moon rose quietly, hanging high in the firmament and casting a vast expanse of silver light upon the unruffled surface of Liurnia of the Lakes. The Great Erdtree, stretching toward the heavens, seemed slightly dimmed, its faint golden radiance competing with the silver moon to form the surreal nightscape of the Lands Between.
Splash—
A small skiff glided across the lake. No torches were lit, and no magic was used for illumination. It felt its way forward through the darkness, guided only by the strange moonlight.
To the right lay a continuous line of military camps. The glow from fire pits drove back the moonlight, lighting the area as bright as day. High watchtowers stood outside the wooden palisades, where soldiers of the Cuckoo, clad in deep blue surcoats, scanned the water. Fortunately, the skiff hugged the coastal cliffs, remaining perfectly within their blind spot.
Don looked to the left. Beyond the scattered islands, a massive city rose from the center of the lake. Majestic buildings climbed the mountain slopes, topped by a bell tower that stood hundreds of meters high. This was the Academy of Raya Lucaria, also known as the Carian Royal Academy. Ever since Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon, had conquered it, it had belonged to the Carian Royals.
But now, the Queen was imprisoned, and the two factions had parted ways, sparking a war that ravaged all of Liurnia.
A coup from below. Don was all too familiar with the concept. He stared at the ripples following the boat, lost in thought.
This isn't like my memory. I recall Liurnia of the Lakes being shallow enough to cross on horseback, yet here we are needing a boat.
The Lands Between lacked a formal calendar, which was a headache. It was impossible to tell how long it would be until the fated Tarnished arrived. Judging by the natural state of the landscape, it was likely a long time away. Because of this temporal shift, many people and events could not be judged by mere experience; he could only trust what his own eyes saw.
Don cleared his mind. As the others on the skiff held their breath in anticipation, he began to calculate the cards in his hand.
This body's physical condition is decent. As expected of a high-magic world overseen by gods, even a sorcerer possesses respectable strength.
His fingers opened and closed around the hilt of the straight sword, as if activating every muscle fiber to simulate the thousands of lethal techniques etched into his mind. As long as his physical stats were within a certain threshold, technique could compensate for his deficiencies. A blade through the heart would still end a life.
Beyond swordsmanship, this magic apprentice's body possessed inherent skills.
The Academy-style spell, Glintstone Pebble... and he learned Carian Slicer from the Royal side? Hm. For a slacker, this guy's aptitude was actually quite good. At least his Intelligence is above 9.
In summary, Don Wright was a talented apprentice—insignificant cannon fodder in a war—but the other Don was different.
"My hand doesn't shake when I cut people."
The former right-hand man of Sword Saint Isshin Ashina smiled, revealing glinting white teeth. Everything was within his control. He felt a surge of anticipation, eager to see if his blade remained sharp.
"Steady. We have broken through the blockade."
A low, muffled voice came from the bow. Blaidd straightened slightly, his fur cape fluttering in the night wind.
Everyone on the boat exhaled. Aside from Don, there were several soldiers: two with sword and shield, one with a halberd, and one with a shortbow. They looked battle-hardened.
"Lord Blaidd, what exactly are we scouting this time?" a shield-soldier asked.
"We circle to the rear to intercept a Cuckoo supply unit," the Half-Wolf replied curtly. He cast a sidelong glance at them. "Why? Are you afraid?"
Don clearly heard the sound of someone swallowing hard. One only had to look at the map to understand the danger. The land surrounding Liurnia wasn't that expansive. A dozen miles away stood a high cliff, where a bell tower offered a bird's-eye view of the surroundings—the high ground of the west bank.
The moment they engaged, Cuckoo cavalry would likely be dispatched for reinforcement. The risk was immense.
"We aren't afraid! With Lord Blaidd here, unless we're surrounded by a legion of Cuckoo Knights, there's nowhere in Liurnia we can't go!"
"That's right! If we take out the supplies, maybe those damned Cuckoos will finally retreat."
The morale surged as they readied their gear. Blaidd nodded in satisfaction. Had it not been so difficult to break the blockade, he would have suggested harrassing the enemy lines long ago. The disparity in numbers meant they had to win through surprise. Even if Iji the War Counselor tried to stop him, he had to try.
He glanced at the magic apprentice at the stern. Seeing Don staring at the water in silence, Blaidd snorted and turned away. Don Wright had always been a dodger; if the boy didn't stain his hands with Cuckoo blood today, he would be suspected of being a spy.
The boat continued south in silence, the oars barely disturbing the water. Near midnight, a shallow beach finally appeared. Blaidd was the first to step ashore, directing the men to hide the boat in the tall grass. He dropped low by the bank, pulling out a telescope.
In the distance, the fire pits of the Four Belfries burned brightly—a Cuckoo outpost. Any combat noise would be impossible to hide. At the base of the cliffs where the belfries stood, a supply caravan moved slowly forward.
Leading the way were two Trolls bound in chains, standing nearly ten meters tall. They dragged heavy freight wagons, followed by soldiers holding torches. It appeared to be a squad of twenty. A Cuckoo Knight, mounted and armed with a greatspear, patrolled the perimeter.
"Standard defense, but we must finish this quickly." Blaidd set the tone for the coming battle. He turned to his men. "I will take the knight. Villa, Duke, prepare Fire Pots and Oil Pots."
"Understood."
"Karin, suppress them with the bow; don't let them form a shield wall. Laila, once the fire starts, cut the Trolls' chains. Those giant-kin have lost their wits; they'll block the path for us while we retreat in the chaos."
"Understood!"
As expected of the Lunar Princess's personal guard, they were veterans. They moved with military precision. Round Fire Pots were set on the ground, and quivers were opened, red-feathered arrows notched to strings. Amidst the heavy silence of the impending slaughter, a voice spoke up.
"Lord Blaidd, what should I do?" Don asked, raising a hand.
"You?" The Half-Wolf looked at him. Having brought the boy along solely to test his loyalty, he waved him off dismissively. "Just don't get in the way. Do as you please."
"Understood." Don didn't waste words. Holding his glintstone staff in his left hand and gripping his sword hilt with his right, he pressed himself against the ground, suppressing his breathing.
Seeing that the apprentice wasn't panicking but was actually acting with professional discipline, Blaidd blinked in surprise. But the sound of wagon wheels was drawing closer, so he put the thought aside and focused on the road.
The creak-creak of the wheels grew louder. The idle chatter of the Cuckoo soldiers became audible, boasting about which village they had pillaged today. Accompanied by crude laughter, they reached the bend in the road. In the darkness, the sound of objects whistling through the air broke the silence, followed by the shattering of ceramic.
Crash! Crash!
With two loud bangs, the lead Trolls stepped into the spilled oil and slipped, their massive frames slamming into the ground and creating shallow craters. With the rattle-clank of tightening chains, the multi-ton wagons overturned, spilling white grain across the dirt.
"Now! Kill them!"
Blaidd leapt up and charged. Each stride covered several meters. He locked his eyes on the knight who was turning his horse and drew the Royal Greatsword from his back.
Clang—
A frigid, pale frost wreathed the blade. He leapt high, landing directly in front of the warhorse as the greatsword slammed into the earth.
Wolf's Assault!
The ground erupted. A surging mist of ice blasted the knight and horse backward, coating even the heavy plate armor in a layer of frost.
"The Half-Wolf, Blaidd?" the knight cried out, raising a heater shield above his head. Relying on instinct, he thrust his spear forward.
Whoosh—
Blaidd tilted his body, ignoring the spearhead that whistled past his cheek. As Ranni's Shadow, even a highly skilled knight wouldn't last three moves against him. With a twist of his wrist, his descending greatsword carved a lethal arc through the air.
Boom!
A Cuckoo Glintstone was shattered instantly. The sharp, icy air current shredded the knight's cloak, revealing the ornate plate armor beneath.
"Two Cuckoo Knights?" The Half-Wolf remained expressionless, his grip tightening on his sword.
"Caria is trapped in a lone city. Did you think we wouldn't anticipate such desperate tactics?" A second knight snarled, throwing off his cloak and charging with a greatsword. "We know your prowess, Wolf. Let's see if you can slaughter hundreds of us before you fall!"
The moment Blaidd charged, the five-man squad rose as well. Arrows flew with deadly accuracy, pinning two soldiers through their foreheads. The warriors carrying Fire Pots sprinted forward, igniting the grain scattered on the road.
The plan was working; it was time to cut and run. However, Don sensed something was wrong. The enemy wasn't scattering in panic; instead, they were counter-attacking. He looked toward the icy mist and understood immediately.
They saw us coming.
Three Cuckoo Knights were now surrounding the Half-Wolf. Blaidd was ferocious, holding the upper hand, but it was futile. The horn from the Four Belfries was already sounding, and the military camps at the base of the mountain were erupting into chaos. No traitor had sold them out—the Cuckoos simply prepared for this every single day. Reinforcements would arrive momentarily.
"This is why I hate smart enemies." Don arched an eyebrow, analyzing the situation in a fraction of a second.
The enemies were focused solely on killing Blaidd, exerting every effort to pin him down. Should he flee? If he were just a magic apprentice, he wouldn't even need to think about it. Likewise, as a Sword Demon, he didn't need to think twice.
Help him break through. Kill their way back!
"Cover me."
Don threw out the command and charged forward, staff in hand. He left behind a bewildered archer. The archer had received secret orders to shoot the apprentice if he tried to run. The boy wasn't running—but shouldn't a sorcerer be hanging back and casting from a distance?
The night wind whistled past Don's ears. He had no time to get used to a sorcerer's way of fighting. The old ways were more reliable.
Tap-tap-tap...
With precise, light steps, Don closed in on the soldiers. Most were swarming the two shield-bearers, while others were distracted by the halberdier trying to cut the chains. Two soldiers on the periphery heard footsteps and turned, freezing in shock.
A man in sorcerer's robes was charging them head-on, waving a short staff. He looked like he was seeking death. As they thrust their spears, the sorcerer suddenly dropped low.
Don performed a sliding dash forward. He felt the chill of the spearheads grazing his hair as he kicked up a cloud of dust. He slipped between the two men. His staff stabbed into the ground to arrest his momentum, and his right hand gripped his sword hilt.
Clang—
With the screech of metal on metal, the straight sword cleared its scabbard. The soldier on the right turned, only to feel a sharp pain in his shin. He lost his balance and toppled toward the ground. Before he could realize what had happened, a staff was pressed against his face, the glintstone at its tip glowing with blue light.
Glintstone Pebble!
A sigil illuminated the surroundings. A sphere of light the size of a fist slammed into his face, his head exploding like a shattered melon. Red and white fluid splashed onto the face of the soldier next to him, who blinked instinctively.
Who casts a spell point-blank?
He wouldn't have to wonder for long. Don leapt from the ground, his straight sword driving upward through the soldier's jaw, popping the iron helm off his head. With a flick of his wrist, he carved the bewildered face in half. The corpse wobbled and collapsed heavily to the dirt.
What is this?
After ending their lives, Don paused for a heartbeat. He felt a certain power flowing into his body. It might have been an illusion, but he felt his strength grow slightly.
But there was no time for thought on the battlefield. He flicked his sword, sending a line of blood flying from the blade. His pale blue eyes, filled with an inquisitive light, locked onto the next soldier.
Two steps, two corpses. His first slaughter in the Lands Between had brought a realization:
A sword plus magic is still swordsmanship. The Ashina Style remains invincible!