The probationary Blue Knight Karl roared like thunder.

“Gather all the young men of the village! We’ll wipe out those Green-skin bastards here and now!”

If he didn’t shout, he felt as though he might lose his mind.

I worked too hard to get this chance.

Before departing, Karl had been secretly summoned to the mansion of his superior and patron, Trisan, where he received an astonishing proposition.

“Lord Trisan?”

“I have a confidential assignment for you.”

“…You wish for me to make Kyrie fail the exam? Understood. I’ll see to it personally.”

“If you succeed, I’ll have you transferred to an upper division within a year. A talent like yours shouldn’t rot in the Border Patrol Corps.”

“But… why entrust such an important task to me, of all people?”

“…Nereus—no, never mind that. Just make sure Kyrie is dealt with.”

For Karl, it was a golden opportunity.

Kyrie… don’t hate me too much. I’ve always admired your audacity—but our paths are different.

Karl was well aware of the rivalry between Sister Andromeda and Trisan.

If Kyrie was the sword chosen by Andromeda, then Karl was the sword chosen by Trisan.

Of course, Andromeda—the eldest daughter of her house—would eventually surpass Trisan.

But that was at least twenty years away.

The family head is still in good health. As long as the master lives, the position of heir apparent means little. Neither the heir nor the chief foster son can completely destroy the other.

The wise choice was to attach himself to one side and take everything he could while it lasted.

“Recruitment complete, sir.”

“Move out!”

Karl shouted again from the front, his voice booming across the fields.

“Y-yes, sir!”

Behind him followed the soldiers of the 3rd Century, still wearing the mud-stained heavy armor they’d salvaged from the swamps, along with about three hundred able-bodied villagers.

The villagers had been rounded up in haste, bringing only makeshift weapons—pitchforks, plowshares, wood axes, harvesting sickles.

“Sir Knight, if we march in like this, the goblins will notice us coming and scatter with all their gold and silver.”

His adjutant tried once to dissuade him.

“Exactly. That’s why we have to move faster. Anyone who falls behind—flog them thoroughly!”

Karl solemnly handed his whip to the adjutant.

“……!?”

The adjutant didn’t know whether to feel relieved that his superior wouldn’t strike him personally—or horrified by the sheer brutality of the order.

Yes. The Green-skins will scatter.

Karl had his own calculations.

But the direction they scatter in—that’s what matters. Kyrie’s village lies to the west. If I strike my assigned nest from the east, the goblins and orcs will flee straight toward him. An ‘unfortunate accident’ should be easy enough to arrange. And west of him lies Nereus’s sector—so they’ll have nowhere left to run.

In some ways, Karl was even more calculating than Nereus.

But there was one decisive difference between them.

Nereus didn’t calculate—on purpose.

“Is everyone assembled?”

A village half a day west of Karl’s sector.

“Yes, sir, Knight.”

“Good. Move out.”

Nereus distributed spears he’d brought in advance to the villagers.

He spread his soldiers and the villagers wide across the forest in a sweeping line, combing the woods like a net to flush out the Green-skin nest assigned to him.

Faster, stronger, more decisively—strike like the thunder everlasting. That’s how I’ll surpass Kyrie.

More men meant faster searches.

Stronger lightning arts meant greater slaughter.

In that sense, he was the textbook image of an Astrios Blue Knight.

He spent little money, marched efficiently, and kept up a brisk pace.

The havoc he caused to the surrounding region was beyond comparison—but that wasn’t a metric the noble houses cared about.

Nereus brushed back his golden hair and hummed under his breath.

This is the orthodox way.

Victory was almost within sight.

“Jo. Are we ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

By that time, halfway between Karl’s and Nereus’s territories, Kyrie had already reached the very edge of his assigned Green-skin nest.

From the start, I hadn’t intended to send my soldiers on a search.

They don’t know this terrain at all. Putting them on recon wouldn’t help much anyway.

The first day we arrived, I summoned the local hunters and herb gatherers.

“You’re here.”

“Yes, sir. We’re the hunters of this area. Most of us have been at it over ten years—no one knows the lay of the land better.”

“Then you must have some idea where the Green-skins are coming from.”

If there had been attacks, the nest couldn’t be far. The hunters and gatherers were bound to have a few places in mind.

“So, one of these seven locations, then. Understood. Jo—assign four or five quick soldiers to each group.”

I sent each hunter and gatherer with a small squad of soldiers.

With five accompanying them, even in the worst case one should make it back alive. If none return, then that’s where the nest is.

The next day, they came back with their reports.

“We found it.”

What surprised me was that the hunters and gatherers came to thank me.

“Thank you for sending soldiers with us, sir.”

“It made the trip much safer.”

“Honestly, we were ready to be torn apart by goblin scouts.”

“I see. Well, of course I’d assign guards—what are you thanking me for? It’s only proper.”

I’d only sent escorts to make sure they didn’t abandon the village and run—but they seemed to have taken it in a much more positive light.

Not that I minded.

“Jo. Ready?”

“Yes, sir. All set.”

With the troops well rested, I set out for the Green-skin nest.

The hunter and soldiers who’d found it served as guides.

“Follow this ravine down and you’ll come to a clearing against a cliff—that’s where their nest is.”

“Good. Once we reach that thicket, we’ll have a clear view. We’ll stop there. Jo, how are the men?”

“Overflowing with energy, sir. After a good wash and a full night’s sleep, they’re itching for action.”

Having avoided the pointless hill sweeps for goblin tails, the soldiers easily matched my pace.

We took position in the brush on the slope overlooking the Green-skin nest.

“There it is.”

Even from over a hundred meters away, the stench and mildew were unmistakable.

“Chreee! Chreek! I smell iron-men coming!”

“Over the mountains, Spiderclaw Chief said he saw a Blue Knight!”

“East side, Skullcrusher Chief said the same! We must move the nest!”

As their scouts cried out, the Green-skins swarmed in the clearing backed by the cliff.

“Kiieek!”

“Out of my way!”

Huge orcs kicked smaller goblins aside, while at one firepit, orc warriors and goblin shamans were conversing.

“I’ll prepare the assault,” Jo said, narrowing his eyes at a cave hollowed into the cliff. Torn shoes and human clothes were scattered before it.

No doubt that cave contained the spore marsh where orcs and goblins were bred.

When they’d run out of animals to throw into it, they’d come raiding human villages.

“No. I’ll attack first. Once their morale breaks, then begin the charge.”

“You mean to weaken their spirit, sir?”

“The distance from this slope to the cliff clearing is long. At least the shaman must go down before we move.”

“Agreed, but… we’ve brought neither ballista nor longbows. Even with your Lightning Arts, sir, it’s far out of reach.”

Jo wasn’t wrong.

It was a long shot.

Charging down the slope would only alert the outer goblin scouts, wasting the element of surprise.

“Lightning Arts aren’t limited to discharge.”

I gathered mana, taking a javelin from a nearby soldier.

Then I activated Neural Acceleration’s companion skill—Bio Radar.

Crackle!

White sparks flashed over my head as invisible electromagnetic waves spread outward.

Vmm.

Normally, the range was about fifty meters around me.

But with the Heaven-Thunder Body, that extended to seventy-five—and after drinking the Elixir of Thunderclouds, it doubled to one hundred fifty.

A bit more mana, and the range grows fast. With the White Lightning Elixir, I could probably push four hundred meters.

It was close, but if I advanced just a little farther alone, I could bring both the orc warriors and the goblin shaman near the fire into range.

“When I throw the javelin and kill the orc and shaman—then begin the charge.”

“You’ll be taking too great a risk, sir!”

Jo sounded scandalized, as though I’d said something absurd.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

I calmly pushed through the brush and walked forward.

“My god…”

“Did you hear that?”

“He’s going closer alone—just to make the charge safer for us?”

Jo and the soldiers reacted oddly.

Once they charge and the real fighting starts, the ogre lurking nearby will rush in. To ambush it, I’ll need to be apart from the unit. A few casualties might happen—but the examiners will overlook that much.

A small price to pay.

More than anything, Trisan—that snake—is the real threat. Nereus is one thing, but a few other knights might have taken his bribes. I have to finish this extermination quickly and avoid being caught in a crossfire with my own troops.

I retraced my steps a short way, crossed the ravine swiftly, and climbed up the opposite slope.

From there, the clearing lay fully in view.

Once more, I invoked Bio Radar.

Vmm.

A flood of information surged into my mind until I nearly staggered.

“Chreeek! Chreek!”

“We must move nest!”

“Might not be a Blue Knight! We fight! No waste spore marsh again!”

Every movement below—the orcs and goblins, the swaying trees, my own 7th Century lying in ambush across the ravine—appeared to me like pieces on a chessboard.

My electric field filled a one-hundred-fifty-meter sphere around me.

Anything moving within it felt like an extension of my own limbs.

“...Hah.”

I lifted the javelin.

Neural Acceleration.

Crackle!

Electric current surged through my nerves.

A flash of tunnel vision sharpened everything.

Physical Enhancement.

Snap!

Lightning threaded through every muscle fiber.

My heart pounded.

“Ha!”

I channeled that overflowing power into the javelin and hurled it at the goblin shaman.

Thwooom!

Leaves and branches exploded apart to clear its path.

“Kiirk?”

The shaman, decked in feathered hat and bone necklace, clutching a black wooden staff, had just enough time for surprise.

Had he managed a single word of incantation, he might have half-crippled my men with a mass blight curse.

Thunk!

His head burst before he could speak.

So that’s why he looked so unimpressed with the ballista.

Jo nearly recoiled at what he’d just witnessed.

That single throw was stronger than artillery.

The goblin shaman’s shoulders were now perfectly flat—his head gone without a trace.

The javelin had buried itself so deep it pinned an orc’s foot to the ground before stopping.

“Chreeee!”

“Enemy! Enemy!”

“Where—where?!”

The orcs and goblins froze for a heartbeat, then scrambled for weapons.

Thwoom!

Another javelin streaked out.

Even Jo, who knew where Kyrie was, could barely follow its flight.

Crack!

Kyrie’s next target was a towering orc over two meters tall, face painted crimson for war—clearly the tribe’s champion.

He never swung his blade. The javelin took his head clean off, pierced the orc behind him through the flank, shattered another’s shin, and only then lodged in the dirt.

Thwoom! Thwoom! Thwoom!

Javelins flew one after another.

Each trajectory, corrected by Bio Radar, was flawless.

In seconds, more than a dozen orc warriors lay strewn across the ground.

“There! That way! Chreeek!”

The few remaining orcs finally pinpointed the source.

“Kiieeek!”

Small, nimble goblins darted between them, scrambling up the slope.

He’s drawn the entire nest’s attention.

Jo seized the moment.

“7th Century—charge!”

“Charge!”

“For Sir Kyrie!”

“For the One-Eyed Knight!”

With the dangerous orc warriors already slain, morale surged.

Unlike other divisions, their march here had been easy—no hardships, no guilt from plundering civilians.

The soldiers of the 7th Century charged down the slope with thunderous spirit.

They were Astrios soldiers—men who had risen with the sword to change their fates in a world where bloodlines decided all.

“For our commander!”

They’d found a Blue Knight willing to take the first risk himself—giving them a chance to shine. What came next was inevitable.

“Kiieeek!”

The goblin scouts were literally shredded.

“Thrust!”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

The few remaining orc warriors were impaled one after another by trios of spearmen, each formation moving with practiced rhythm.

“Chreeek! Chreeek! Iron-men!”

“I know! I see them!”

“Run!”

“There’s nowhere to run!”

The rest was no longer a battle, but a cleanup.

As that cleanup neared its end—

“Is it over?”

“Hey! Don’t say things like that!”

Thud.

A heavy, ominous tremor shook the ground.

Here it comes.

Kyrie curled his lips into a crooked smile and gripped his javelin.

An ogre heart was worth ten gold coins, wasn’t it?

Chapter 11

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