The Immortal Genius Spearman

The atmosphere within the 6th Legion had grown increasingly tense following recent events, and Kiaran’s office felt more like a mourning hall than a command center.

“…Are you saying he foresaw this situation?” Kiaran asked in a grave tone.

“I don’t think so,” replied Edmund. “But from what we can surmise… it seems he had prepared the army even before Damian returned.”

“Why?”

Kiaran asked the fundamental question. That man, who usually turned a blind eye to most matters and rarely intervened, had suddenly taken action.

But Edmund fell silent, for it was a question he himself wanted to ask. All he knew was what the butler, Sir Villipt, had told him:

“Sir Villipt said that, strangely enough, he saw him smile for the first time in a long while.”

“The man known as the Iron Blooded Sword smiled?”

“Yes.”

Kiaran was taken aback. If that was true, it was an even stranger occurrence. The man in question never smiled.

Kiaran thought of Damian.

‘What on earth have you gotten yourself into, Damian?’

But regardless of his curiosity, there was one main concern:

“…I hope they all make it out alive.”

At least, Kiaran felt a bit more at ease knowing that he had personally taken action.

Although Kiaran had dispatched reinforcements from the cavalry as well…

“Haah, what a mess.”

Lately, each day felt like a constant barrage of crises. As he looked out at the ever-changing political landscape, Kiaran sighed deeply.

Whoosh!

A strong wind brushed past, carrying beads of sweat down from his chin.

“The Empire’s 4th Aura Master, Galveron Maxkov.”

Standing before him was a man in gleaming white armor with blue insignias.

His helmet was pulled low, but his eyes gleamed with a sharp, murderous intent.

It was the 1st Aura Master of the Baroque Kingdom, Lord Hainel Fremunt.

The white armor was Hainel’s signature look, instantly recognizable to all.

Galveron had no trouble identifying him, and his face twisted into a mixture of frustration and amusement.

“Hainel Fremunt. I heard rumors that you’d retired from the battlefield, but it seems those were unfounded.”

Galveron, considered a prodigy of the Empire, had only lived about half of Hainel’s years. Despite the age difference, Galveron spoke with a sense of superiority, though…

‘…Damn it.’

How could this be happening? How could an Aura Master of the Baroque Kingdom suddenly appear at this critical moment?

‘Was this planned?’

No, it couldn’t be.

Their operation here had been conducted in complete secrecy. The Baroque Kingdom’s reinforcements had been caught off guard and hadn’t managed to do anything.

‘Could it really be a coincidence?’

Was it pure chance that they’d crossed paths with an army led by this Aura Master?

“If you and I fight here, the other soldiers will suffer or die,” Hainel said, his voice calm but firm.

“But if I can kill you, the loss will be worth it, don’t you think?” Hainel replied, a relaxed smile on his face.

Though the task would not be easy, Hainel showed no fear.

He clenched his fists.

Though he had just recently reached the rank of Aura Master, there was no way Hainel would lose to a mere upstart.

Moreover…

Crackle!

Sparks of lightning surged from Hainel’s body, signaling that he was more than ready to unleash his Aura.

Grit!

Galveron bit his lip hard.

Although he still had enough energy to continue using Aura…

‘They have the numbers.’

The combined force of the three hundred Caion soldiers and the knights Hainel had brought with him far outnumbered Galveron’s troops. There were well over five hundred of them.

And unlike him, Hainel still had plenty of Aura reserves left.

“Do you really want to meet your end on such a meaningless battlefield?”

“Haha, as you said, this place isn’t worthy of my talents. It’s too small a stage for me.”

Galveron forced a smile as he addressed Hainel.

“I’ll withdraw for today. But rest assured… I’ll make you pay for this soon.”

“I look forward to it, rookie,” Hainel responded, laughing lightly.

Galveron clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack.

One day, he would kill this infuriating old man.

“Fall back. Let’s go!” Galveron shouted as he turned his horse around.

The cavalry followed him, retreating from the battlefield.

And when Galveron’s figure had finally disappeared from view…

“Commander!”

“Sub-commander!”

“Dianal!”

The remaining soldiers rushed to where Damian and Dianal lay.

Damian gently laid Dianal on the ground and examined his wounds.

“…Damn it.”

He hadn’t had a chance to properly assess Dianal’s condition while they were fleeing, but it was worse than he had thought.

Galveron’s sword had narrowly missed severing his ribs, but it had pierced deep enough to nearly reach the bone.

Dianal was hanging on by a thread, his condition critical. But at that moment…

“Let me see him.”

Hainel stepped through the gathered Caion soldiers and pulled out a small vial from his coat.

“A friend gave this to me. Seems like the right time to use it.”

The liquid inside the vial was a clear, milky white.

It looked like ordinary water, but…

“Is that… a High Potion?” Damian asked, his eyes wide with shock.

Even regular potions were known as “liquid life” for their extraordinary healing properties. They were more expensive than gold, and could heal most wounds with ease.

But High Potions were in a league of their own. They were rumored to bring back the dead and were so rare that they were considered priceless.

And now…

“You’re using something so valuable…?”

“There’s nothing more precious than the kingdom’s talents.”

Without hesitation, Hainel uncorked the bottle and carefully poured the High Potion over Dianal’s wounds.

Drip… drip… drip…

The potion soaked into the torn flesh.

After applying enough to the wound, Hainel tipped the rest of the liquid into Dianal’s mouth, helping him swallow it.

Then, something miraculous happened.

Crack! Crackle!

The gaping wounds began to close rapidly, visibly knitting back together before their eyes.

It wasn’t a full recovery, but…

“Wh-what? His skin…”

“He’s getting his color back.”

Dianal’s face, which had been deathly pale, slowly began to regain its natural tone.

The bleeding from Dianal’s wounds had completely stopped, and his breathing had returned to normal.

Hainel let out a small smile.

“Phew, it’s done. He’s out of danger now.”

“…Thank you. Thank you so much,” Damian said, bowing his head in gratitude. But Hainel shook his head as he rose to his feet.

“No, the thanks should be mine.”

“…What do you mean?”

Hainel let out a soft laugh. “I’ve found a reason to fight again, thanks to someone. Hahaha…”

He chuckled quietly, then turned his gaze to the north.

“But there’s still work to be done, isn’t there?”

“…Yes, that’s right.”

After all, they were originally on their way to reinforce Sragan.

Hainel nodded at Damian’s words. “I’ll take care of this young man. You should focus on your mission.”

“Thank you.”

One of Hainel’s knights carefully lifted Dianal and placed him on a horse. Damian turned back to the Caion unit, who were anxiously watching.

“We’ve been through a lot in a short time. And before anything else, I want to thank all of you for holding out as long as you did.”

Each soldier had a determined look in their eyes. They now fully grasped the severity of the situation, as well as their own limitations in the face of such overwhelming power.

Damian continued, “Through this, we’ve learned just how powerful our enemies are. And we’ve also realized how much stronger we must become.”

His eyes gleamed with fierce determination.

“But this experience is also part of how we will grow. We will continue fighting on these battlefields… and we will become even stronger!”

“Uraaaaaah!” Kyle was the first to shout, raising his sword high in the air.

“That’s right! Uraaaaaah!” Crion joined in, echoing the cry.

“Uraaaaaaah!” The rest of the unit followed, raising their weapons and shouting, their morale soaring.

Turning to face north, Damian spoke with resolute conviction.

“Remember, no matter where we are, we must always give our best.”

“Yes, sir!” came the unified response, ringing out loud and clear.

Damian grasped his spear and raised it high.

“Caion unit, advance!”

Their destination was Sragan, where they would drive the Empire’s forces back.

As Damian’s command echoed, the Caion unit began to march once more. Watching them go…

“It reminds me of our younger days,” Hainel mused to his lieutenant beside him. The lieutenant smiled faintly.

“It certainly does. But… that young man seems far stronger than we were back then.”

Hainel didn’t disagree. He simply smiled quietly.

“Let’s follow them.”

“Yes, sir! Glory Knights, move out!”

The Glory Knights, the strongest knightly order in the Baroque Kingdom, had re-emerged from the shadows of dormancy to take the field once more.

“Hainel Fremunt?”

Estevan Gachevsta, commander of the Empire’s 3rd Legion, couldn’t hide her surprise at hearing the unexpected name. Her brow furrowed deeply.

“That old man? Where the hell did he suddenly come from?”

“Well, uh…”

Estevan’s adjutant, Rentor, flinched under her furious gaze, stammering in response.

All he had done was deliver the report. Why was she directing her anger at him?

But Rentor quickly continued, “We don’t know the exact details. But General Galveron has withdrawn after encountering him, and… the 3,000 troops fighting against the Baroque reinforcements have also retreated.”

“Damn fool! How could he pull back like that?!”

Thud!

Estevan slammed her hand against the armrest of her chair and stood up.

This operation had been meticulously planned by her personally, leaving no room for failure.

‘How could that old man…?’

Rumors had circulated that Hainel had retired from the battlefield. Some even said he had been living in seclusion, barely making any appearances at the royal court.

‘Why has he suddenly decided to show up?’

And yet, Galveron had encountered Hainel and still retreated. That could only mean…

“Does this mean his strength is still intact?”

“It appears so. While there are various rumors about Lord Hainel, not all of them seem reliable,” Rentor replied cautiously.

Estevan scowled, pacing around the room in frustration.

If the situation continued like this, the Empire’s forces advancing on the capital of the Spanian Kingdom would surely falter.

‘Damn it… How did things go so wrong…?’

Everything should have gone smoothly with overwhelming force, pushing their way through without a hitch.

But just then…

Thud.

The door opened, and Estevan’s expression twisted in anger.

“Who dares enter without permission…!”

But as she laid eyes on the man who stepped inside, her expression shifted, her eyes widening in surprise.

Piaren Tail.

The Empire’s 3rd Aura Master.

They had never gotten along, and rarely exchanged pleasantries. For him to come here now…

“Galveron failed, didn’t he?”

“….”

“To have overturned such a perfectly laid-out plan, it’s clear enough what that says about his ability.”

If Piaren had been there, he would have beheaded Hainel and crushed the Baroque Kingdom’s forces completely.

Piaren’s sharp eyes bore into Estevan as he spoke.

“I’ll go back into the field. And if you try to stop me, be prepared to bleed.”

“….”

The direct challenge in Piaren’s words made Estevan swallow nervously.

There was something dangerous in his eyes, something that suggested he was ready to do anything.

Reluctantly, Estevan nodded.

“…I’ll do what I can to assist.”

“Then I’ll await the results. And one more thing…”

Piaren turned his head slightly to look back at Estevan.

“The Caion unit. They’re mine.”