Chapter 123
Who would dare speak?
Alone, he took on the thirty-strong Great Warrior Division.
Without anyone’s help, relying solely on his own strength, he shattered them.
Not a single warrior survived.
All that remained were pieces of red flesh, their former forms completely unrecognizable.
They were all gone.
Who, upon witnessing that scene, could possibly speak?
Dante stood at the center of the now-silent battlefield and quietly asked, almost absentmindedly:
“Who’s next?”
There was no answer.
A few tensed their fingers in reaction, but that was all.
They were all proud warriors, confident in their own strength.
Yet even they could not step forward.
The mighty warriors of the North had been utterly overwhelmed by a single young knight of the Empire.
Standing proudly on the blood-red ground, Dante’s figure exuded a presence that made one think of…
“The Empire’s Sword.”
It was enough to make anyone recall someone.
“Could he be the next Empire’s Sword?”
“No. He’s too strong to be called ‘next.’”
“Rather…”
“That there are now two Empire’s Swords.”
Xenon Aquites.
The warriors, seeing Dante, remembered Caldrion’s greatest foe.
That was the level of his overwhelming presence.
“Lord Dante.”
Archaesion, who had circled around the Great Warrior Division, fell in line behind Dante.
Only eleven in total.
Including Dante, just twelve.
Barely enough to call it a squad.
Yet no one dared underestimate or dismiss Archaesion anymore.
Milleon’s eyes trembled as he took in the chaos around them.
The warriors they had assumed were impenetrable had fallen under Dante’s blade.
Milleon truly realized how extraordinary this young captain’s sword was.
Even Zionhack, usually calm and carefree, trembled slightly.
He had thought he was keeping pace, but…
‘Apparently not.’
They had trained in the same time, same space.
If anything, Zionhack’s training had been longer than Dante’s.
Yet the gap had not closed—it had widened.
Recalling the silver streak of Arpheon etched into his mind, Zionhack swallowed dryly.
‘Maybe I’ll never be able to surpass him.’
It was not envy, but awe.
A boy who had lived only half as long as himself had already reached this level.
If he continues growing like this, how far could he go?
Milleon, Zionhack, Elaine—
Archaesion’s heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and pressure.
Even ten or twenty years from now,
they would still want to stand behind Dante.
No one else, only Archaesion wanted to charge across the battlefield alongside him.
It was desire, aspiration, and determination to make it happen.
No one spoke, yet all of Archaesion’s eyes were focused on the same place:
behind Dante.
The boy, cloaked in a red cape, standing more proudly than anyone else on the battlefield.
“Next, huh.”
As Archaesion lost himself in thought, a voice tore through the silence.
Flinch.
Archaesion instinctively tightened his grip on his sword.
A not-so-loud voice, seemingly relaxed, without even any magic…
Yet it carried a presence that drew all attention.
“…A battle fiend.”
Dante’s narrowed eyes focused forward.
Thud.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the ground where Archaesion had crushed the warriors.
“So, you must be the boy they’ve been talking about.”
The figure that appeared was a beast in human form.
There was no other way to describe it.
Not because of appearance,
but because of his breath, his gaze, his movements—
all radiated a ferocious energy, utterly inhuman.
“You are Dante Aquites, son of Xenon Aquites, right?”
He wore the hide of an unknown predator, a sword too massive for a human to lift rested against his shoulder.
His red eyes glinted with the madness of a starving predator spotting prey.
“You are the Caldrion battle fiend called Bargrad?”
Feeling his name, Archaesion sensed a surge of magic.
A truly formidable power.
Yet Dante’s expression remained firm.
Even this powerful Archaesion could not compare to the battle fiend.
He had expected as much…
“An honor. Xenon’s child knows my name.”
Bargrad, the battle fiend, smiled, and the atmosphere of the battlefield shifted.
Just one person—without a single great warrior accompanying him—instantly silenced the battlefield.
Tremors of fear, joy, and overwhelming confidence enveloped Caldrion’s warriors.
They seemed to trust Bargrad’s power implicitly.
“You were too arrogant. To step into my domain with only twelve. Even if you are Xenon’s child, I can’t just let this slide.”
His massive frame, fierce aura, and domineering voice triggered Dante’s instincts.
It was a warning.
A dangerous signal that he might die here.
“You want to cut my neck?”
Dante adjusted his grip on Arpheon and asked.
“You didn’t think you’d walk away alive, did you?”
Bargrad continued, as if it were obvious.
“Even your father gave his all in my domain. He knew if he didn’t, he’d die. How much more his child…”
Bargrad did not even see Dante as a threat.
He had seen him destroy a Great Warrior Division, yet only regarded him as prey he could bite at any moment.
Still, Dante remained unshaken.
If the Caldrion battle fiend was truly on par with the Empire’s Sword, it wouldn’t have been wrong to say so.
“And so the Caldrion battle fiend’s fame comes only from words, huh?”
The long and short of it is always revealed in battle.
Bargrad’s lips slowly curled into a smirk.
The battlefield filled with the scent of thick blood on his breath.
“Fame from words alone… quite capable of getting under a person’s skin. Unlike your father, that is.”
Crack!
Bargrad slowly raised the massive sword in his grasp.
Slowly, yet as if to overturn the world.
The very ground beneath him groaned under the weight.
‘Incredible.’
Dante bit his lip.
Bargrad’s power exceeded imagination.
His ferocity and destructive force far surpassed even Isabella.
‘This is problematic.’
According to plan, they should have used Archaesion’s overwhelming breakthrough ability to strike him down in one blow.
While the chance of killing the battle fiend in one strike was low, at least the leaders and warriors could have held out.
This would have prevented him from crossing the border again in the short term…
But Dante’s eyes fell on his horse, dead with its head crushed.
‘Breakthrough is impossible.’
His horse was gone, Archaesion had lost speed.
There was no way to use that method now.
Yet Dante calmly faced Bargrad.
As if to say he could handle him anytime.
Arpheon glimmered beautifully in the light of the moon and torches, Dante’s eyes icy cold.
“Very well. Come and see for yourself where my name comes from.”
Whooooosh!
The aura of the two forces pressed down upon the battlefield.
“Guh!”
“Krrrgh!”
Warriors standing afar gasped as if suffocating.
Even the mere emission of magic was unbearable.
“Warriors without the blessing of the spirits, fall back!”
“Engage and you’ll die!”
The Great Warriors shouted, and the others hastily retreated, gasping for breath.
Archaesion, however, was the opposite.
He bristled with fighting spirit, ready to charge at any moment.
Dante raised his hand, stopping them.
Curious eyes stared at Dante’s back.
“Do not interfere.”
Against such a strong opponent, Archaesion’s slowed combined attack was meaningless.
It was better to face him alone.
This increased the chance of victory.
Milleon wanted to speak, but Zionhack restrained him.
Trust the captain.
Trust the young heir of the Aquites family.
Following his orders was the knightly duty.
Milleon gritted his teeth, silently watching Dante.
Thud.
Simultaneously, Bargrad stepped forward.
The ground sank.
Cracks spread as stones shattered beneath him.
The pressure came from his massive size, weight, and concentrated magic.
Dante did not budge.
He shifted his left foot slightly, preparing his stance.
The distance between them was barely ten meters.
The air boiled, the tension stretched taut.
“You arrogant young knight.”
Bargrad declared.
“I will sever your neck and cast it before Xenon.”
At that moment—!
A red, lightning-like force erupted.
Bargrad’s massive sword descended like a thunderbolt toward Dante.
The storm of power.
The energy from the blade ripped the ground, overturning the blood-soaked earth.
KRAAAASH!
The air exploded.
It was overwhelming destructive power.
Dante resembled a small boat facing a wave hundreds of meters high.
A force that could crush his will, yet his sword moved instinctively.
A silver streak.
Arpheon glided through the air, extending straight ahead.
