The mutant ogre’s roar shook the Rykenta village to its roots.

An invisible black surge of energy filled the entire sphere within hearing range.

In that instant, Rykenta’s elite soldiers forgot every scrap of training they had ever received.

“Gah!”

“Urk!”

“Uaaaargh!”

They threw away their spears, swords, and triple-string arbalests, foaming at the mouth and rolling across the ground.

Some of the soldiers closest to the mutant ogre collapsed dead within seconds, their bodies erupting in dark red rashes.

“Charge!”

Nereus did not miss the moment.

The fiercest and most exuberant of all Blue Knights burst forward, his steps crackling with Thunderstep.

Rumble—!

Wreathed in crimson lightning, Nereus thundered across the field and reached the drawbridge of Rykenta’s main gate.

The drawbridge was raised.

“Hngh!”

Nereus leapt as though winged.

He cleared the moat in a single bound and landed atop the palisade.

The soldiers manning the pulleys were all senseless with terror.

He kicked them aside and pulled the lever down.

Clatterrr!

The drawbridge dropped in one go.

“Waaaah!”

“Follow the Blue Knight!”

“Kyrie! Kyrie! Kyrie!”

Two hundred soldiers charged for the open bridge.

Nereus could not wait for them to catch up.

Huh?

It wasn’t because of the impatience drilled into him through Blue Knight training.

I was wondering why the second roar hasn’t come yet.

There was a reason he had pushed himself to chain Thunderstep in such rapid succession.

The mutant ogre had roared once.

And after that?

There was no reason the creature would conveniently destroy only Rykenta’s army and then close its mouth.

If it kept roaring, neither he nor Kyrie would be able to fight properly.

He intended to sever its head before the second or third roar could even sound.

Someone got there first.

Indeed.

From the top of the earthen wall reinforced with logs, Nereus saw the mutant ogre at the village center.

Several blades and spears had already pierced its spine, nape, and eyes.

Nereus triggered Neural Acceleration and amplified his Bio-Radar, scanning the surroundings.

Boom!

“Hup!”

“Ha!”

Thanks to that, he reacted even to the ambush leaping like a spring from below the wall.

The shadow’s blade clashed against Nereus’s lightning-charged longsword and deflected away.

At the same time, Nereus was forced back a step.

He pushed me?

Only a superhuman could push back a Blue Knight.

A Navigator? No. If it were, he’d have attacked from range first.

Even with his Neural Acceleration and Bio-Radar active, the strike had appeared as a surprise attack—meaning it was so fast that ordinary men wouldn’t even see it.

Fwoosh!

The shadow cast off the black cloak covering his body.

Tailored plate armor and a finely wrought sword gleamed in the torchlight.

“A knight of Rykenta pays his respects to the Blue Knight of Astreios.”

A noble warrior not beloved by a star saluted one who was.

It was a formal, archaic gesture of honor.

Had it been Kyrie, he might have unleashed a lightning strike at once.

But Nereus was of noble blood—of a proud collateral line.

“Nereus of Tonatio Astreios.”

He returned the salute.

Rustle, rustle, rustle—

Knights gathered from every direction.

Blue Knights, knights, and squires—all superhuman—suffered less from the aftereffects of the mutant beast’s roar.

They must have killed the ogre the moment they understood the situation.

Counting the one who had ambushed him first, there were four of them in total.

Quite a few.

Even for a Blue Knight, it was a burdensome number.

“Though we both wear the Brooch of the Falling Star, forgive me for beginning this duel with superior numbers.”

If more than five knights joined a melee, even a direct-line Blue Knight would not hold for long.

Such opponents could wipe out two hundred soldiers in an instant.

Of course, Nereus wasn’t worried about the soldiers.

“That much, I’ll gladly forgive.”

He simply wasn’t the type to worry about himself either.

“I’ll just have to punish you for standing in my way!”

Crackle! Crackle!

Orange lightning flared from the crown of Nereus’s head to the soles of his boots.

Boom!

And from the center of the village, a plume of dust burst skyward.

Kyrie?

Blue Knights and knights clashed.

Naturally, the source of the dust cloud bore the crest of Rykenta.

“I never thought a Blue Knight of Astreios would stoop to such cowardly tricks.”

The last shards of sunlight had faded, giving way to the darkness of night.

From the heart of the encampment stepped a nobleman draped in a yellow cape embroidered with elaborate patterns.

“Cowardice? Says the one who commands beasts.”

Kyrie turned slightly, gaze calm and unblinking.

He had sensed the man’s presence the moment he’d vaulted the palisade—thanks to his electromagnetic Bio-Radar.

“So narrow a field of vision—must be hard with only one eye.”

“Still better than those with two eyes who see nothing.”

“A sneak attack without declaration, from a house of a lesser constellation. Do you think the Church of the Constellation Eternal will recognize any evidence taken by such a raid?”

“I don’t need their recognition. Only that of the Lightning Star—and my own conscience.”

He was a striking man, long black hair tied high behind his head.

At his belt hung two curved eastern blades, both hung with crimson tassels.

“Erikant. Erikant of Rykentrion Rykenta.”

“An adopted son? No—a direct heir?”

“You Astreios folk are strange. You take in adopted sons, yet still divide them from the main bloodline like sword from scabbard.”

“So, adopted. I should’ve brought another javelin.”

“You’d fight a son of Rykenta with thrown weapons? Reckless.”

Even with his troops half destroyed by the surprise attack, his face carried the ease of a superior being.

The composure of a noble warrior whose strength equaled an entire unit.

“Reckless courage, blunt clarity, unvarnished honesty—virtues of a Blue Knight. Remember them in your short life.”

Kyrie almost groaned aloud inside.

I should’ve sent Nereus here. A Blue Knight would’ve charged straight outside the moment ambushed, but this bastard’s a Navigator—still lounging in the middle of the village.

Even so, he did not retreat.

This was a formidable foe either he or Nereus would have had to face regardless.

Bio-Radar showed more than ten outlines—knights and squires combined. Better to fight one-on-one than all of them at once.

“Kyrie. Kyrie of Astreios.”

“Where’s your middle name?”

“Regrettably, I’m a bastard. I don’t have one.”

“Yet you wear a cloak fit for royalty.”

“One never knows when one will die; might as well dress well.”

“A pity. It’s a fine cloak.”

Erikant drew one of his curved swords.

Rumble—!

In that instant, Kyrie planted his left foot and dashed right with Thunderstep.

Swoosh!

A slicing roar split the air.

But it wasn’t the sonic boom of Thunderstep.

It was wind.

A compressed gust lashed out like a giant’s blade, cutting through the space where Kyrie had stood.

Dust and grass whipped up to the sky.

Didn’t see that coming. Of course not. No electromagnetic scan can detect wind!

A tremor of relief ran through him as he pushed Neural Acceleration further.

Crackle, crackle!

His nerves flared white-hot, accelerating his reactions to their limit.

“How uncanny. Fine instincts.”

“Instincts? Hardly. It’s an Authority. One you wind-slingers of Rykenta lack.”

“One we lack, is it?”

Erikant drew his second blade.

One was nearly as long as Kyrie’s thunder-charged sword; the other, half its length.

“Then let’s see which proves stronger—what you have, or what you can’t see.”

He began to swing both swords.

Swoosh!
Swoosh!
Swoosh!

Each flash of steel birthed literal blades of wind.

Of course it’s night.

Kyrie let out a bitter laugh.

The worst possible condition.

At night, he couldn’t track flying dust or grass to gauge the wind’s path.

In contrast, his lightning-charged form—single visible eye, long blade, and ceaselessly moving feet—blazed white with electric light.

Rumble—!

Thus he met the attack through pure physique.

I can’t see the wind blades—but I can see the swords.

He read the dual trajectories through Bio-Radar.

Whum. Whum. Whum.

They spun like a dance, alternating slashes and arcs—wild but still bound to the swords’ motion. The wind blades followed wherever the steel went.

Rumble—!

That meant he could predict them—and evade.

High-Speed Cognition. Neural Boost. Bio-Radar. Physical Enhancement. Weapon Imbuement. Thunderstep.

Kyrie fought with six techniques simultaneously.

Andromeda would have cheered if she’d seen it.

His nerves burned like heated wire, but the Celestial Lightning Body he’d honed held firm.

“Trying to escape the wind, are you!”

But Erikant wasn’t finished.

He was a Navigator.

A man who could steer his own fate and that of others.

Shaaah—!

He slid forward, riding the wind.

Each step covered more than ten meters—a pace slower than Thunderstep, but far more flexible, able to turn freely in any direction.

Swoosh!
Swoosh!
Swoosh!

Blades of wind poured from impossible angles.

Rumble—!

Kyrie made the only choice worthy of a Blue Knight.

Forward.

Always forward.

He surged straight ahead, his lightning-charged sword gleaming white-hot.

Clang!

Wind blades and electrified steel collided, exploding into formless shockwaves and white sparks.

“Hup!”

“Urgh!”

The distance between them collapsed.

The Astreios lightning blade clashed directly against the twin curved swords of the eastern continent.

“You thought you’d win in close combat?!”

Erikant roared.

The shout carried on wind, his voice several times deeper and heavier than normal.

A super-low frequency Authority—Lion’s Roar.

“Of course I’ll win!”

But Neural Acceleration made such intimidation useless.

Kyrie spun his sword overhead, driving it down in relentless arcs.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

White sparks burst where lightning met wind-forged steel.

The tremendous rebound from the wind blades threw his strikes off course—but Kyrie was far from losing ground.

Crackle! Crackle!

“Kh!”

Erikant’s face twisted.

Veins bulged and vanished across his clenched hands.

Electric shock.

The Navigator’s superhuman body and wind buffer kept him standing, but under normal conditions he’d have dropped his blades long ago.

The shocks made his muscles convulse, his nerves falter.

His reaction time and thoughts slowed—bit by bit.

Meanwhile, Kyrie only burned hotter.

“Ha… hahahaha!”

Blue lightning flared around his left eye, his veins shining pale beneath his skin.

Clang!

Once.

Erikant’s guard broke.

Kyrie’s blade slipped past his twin swords and struck his body.

The Wind King Armor—his wind-forged shield—kept his torso and mail from being cleaved in two, but the blow still carried a brutal impact.

“Huh?”

He reacted only because his senses were sharpened beyond mortal limits.

Whoosh!

Kyrie’s Bio-Radar caught a javelin-like projectile.

From the side.

It raced toward him at terrifying speed—from the fortress wall itself.

Thunk!

Kyrie twisted back just in time.

Several strands of his indigo hair flew free, and a deep gash opened on his cheek.

The bolt that grazed his face buried itself in the ground, fletching and all.

Insane.

Even stronger than a javelin he would’ve thrown himself.

A direct hit would’ve blown him apart.

Shaaah—!

“Phew.”

Erikant stepped back, exhaling in relief.

“You’re a Blue Knight. Impressive.”

“……”

“But you Blue Knights will never defeat us Navigators. You charge ahead on your own strength—how could you overcome a united fleet? Yes. I am a Navigator.”

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.

“The sword that steers my fate—and theirs—toward our own sea!”

Through Bio-Radar, Kyrie saw layers upon layers of movement outlines converging.

“Seventh Arbalest Decade—assembled!”

“Fifth Decade—moving into position!”

“Sixth Decade—resupply complete!”

“Ballista unit, first volley! Second volley, ready!”

The Navigator himself faced Kyrie.

His knights held off Nereus.

Between them, squires and aides scrambled to rouse the stunned soldiers.

Reformed crossbowmen gathered behind Erikant, aiming their wind-blessed triple-string arbalests.

“The one you face isn’t me—it’s all of us.”

Erikant spread his arms wide, like a merciful god, gesturing to his army.

Dozens of crossbowmen drew their triple bows at once, each firing three bolts.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Over a hundred arm-length bolts screamed through the air toward a single man.

“Chain Discharge.”

Crackle—!

And every last one detonated midair.

Chapter 36

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