NOVPUBGhislain infused his axe with mana, aiming precisely at his target, but despite striking the exact spot he intended, the blade didn’t sink deeply.
Annoyed, Ghislain extended his hand and tried binding Kustu with threads of mana.
“Aaargh!”
Snap!
With a bestial scream, Kustu shattered the restraints instantly. He was more monstrous than expected.
“This... reminds me of Viktor. No, his body might even be tougher.”
Viktor, the one who once sought to become the North’s greatest swordsman, had been a formidable opponent in the battle at Ferdium. Although he ultimately fell to Ghislain, his strength was nothing to scoff at.
While Kustu lacked Viktor’s skill, his raw strength and resilience surpassed Viktor’s.
He compensated for his lack of technique with an incredible physical ability.
“Die! Die already!”
Now frenzied, Kustu swung his axe wildly in every direction. No matter how intelligent he might have been among the barbarians, his base nature couldn’t be hidden.
Against anyone else, his sheer strength and speed might have meant certain death, but against Ghislain, whose martial skills had reached their peak, Kustu’s brute force was ineffective.
Of course, Ghislain couldn’t afford to approach recklessly either—one hit from that axe would shatter his body instantly.
Boom! Boom!
Kustu’s axe continuously struck the ground, tearing it apart. His lack of skill combined with his rage left him unable to land a single hit on Ghislain.
“Why... why won’t you die?”
In the North, Kustu had thought there was no one who could match him. But now his opponent was slipping away like a slippery fish, evading every strike.
Kustu had known Ghislain was a monster since seeing him cut down warriors so easily, but fighting him directly was beyond anything he’d imagined.
“Aaaaargh!”
Kustu screamed and threw all his strength into another swing of his axe.
All he needed was one solid hit; that would be enough to crush his opponent beyond recognition.
Crash!
Another full-power strike missed. His shoulder stretched too far, creating an opening.
Ghislain seized the moment, throwing aside one of his axes. He wrapped his arm around Kustu’s neck, clinging onto his back.
If a single strike wasn’t enough, it only meant he needed more force. And if force was lacking...
“Then I’ll just keep hitting until you’re dead.”
Ghislain grinned, lifting his remaining axe.
“You...!”
Kustu, filled with rage, tried to grab Ghislain, but Ghislain’s axe moved faster, swinging down toward Kustu’s head.
Thud!
“Graaah!”
In a burst of agony, Kustu instinctively summoned all his mana to shield his head.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Ghislain, his own mana flowing, brought the axe down repeatedly, but Kustu’s head resisted even these brutal strikes.
Realizing how little his attacks were penetrating, Ghislain was taken aback. For an ordinary person, an axe to the head at this force should have meant instant death.
“This guy... he’s a complete monster. Could he have been born with divine strength?”
Some people were born with extraordinary physical abilities, blessed with what was called divine strength. Without needing mana or training, their bodies possessed an otherworldly density, hardness, and structure.
Kustu’s body seemed to resemble that of these rare beings.
Ghislain wondered to himself, “Why didn’t he unify the tribes in my past life? I recall someone else did.”
A monster like Kustu should have been able to endure enemy attacks and mow down any warrior.
Even now, if he had personally led the charge instead of staying in the rear to conserve his forces, their defenses might have already fallen.
Perhaps he’s overly cautious or prideful as a chieftain?
Ghislain’s contemplation was brief, as Kustu threw aside his weapon and reached to grab him with both hands.
At the same moment, nearby warriors seized the opportunity to attack Ghislain.
“Alright then!”
Ghislain leaped off Kustu’s back, swiftly dispatching two approaching warriors with blinding speed.
In the meantime, Kustu picked up his weapon again and charged at Ghislain.
“Damn, this guy’s too tough,” Ghislain muttered as he dodged. It was clear that ordinary attacks wouldn’t do.
He scanned the battlefield; the number of enemy warriors had drastically diminished. Victory was already within reach. The ambush and encirclement had been flawless, resulting in minimal casualties on their side.
“Just need to kill this one last monster.”
If this beast continued his rampage, allied casualties would inevitably rise.
Ghislain began gathering mana into his axe.
Vrrrm!
With a surge of mana, the axe started to tremble. Ghislain dodged Kustu’s attacks, concentrating and compressing the mana within his weapon.
He couldn’t spend as much time charging it as he had when breaking down the gates of Kavaldi Castle, but with his training, he could still manage a decent charge.
Fwoosh!
Red mana coalesced and surged around the axe. Ideally, he’d compress and refine it further, but there was no time for that.
Whirrrrr!
“Diiiieeee!”
Seeing Ghislain pause momentarily to gather mana, Kustu swung his massive axe with all his might, sensing this was his last chance.
As the axe came down, ready to split him in two, Ghislain gripped his own axe with both hands and swung with all his strength.
Boom!
With an earth-shattering explosion, Kustu’s massive axe shattered instantly.
The deafening sound brought the entire battlefield to a standstill.
Every eye turned to witness Ghislain, exuding red smoke, driving his axe down toward Kustu’s head.
Thud!
The blow, powerful enough to shatter steel, only penetrated halfway into Kustu’s head.
Kustu’s physical strength was indeed terrifying.
But even the strongest couldn’t survive with half their head split open.
Ghislain released his axe and jumped back to the ground.
“Urgh... you... bastard...”
Blood streaming from his forehead and eyes, Kustu tried to grab him. But his trembling hands couldn’t hold Ghislain.
“You... you...”
Repeating the same words, the light faded from Kustu’s eyes, and his massive body slowly slumped to the ground.
Thud!
A short distance away, barbarians still engaged with knights and soldiers didn’t yet realize Kustu had fallen.
Ghislain climbed onto Kustu’s corpse and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“The great chieftain Kustu is dead!”
The barbarian warriors, hearing this, opened their eyes wide in shock. Kustu had been the strongest among all warriors gathered here, one of the mightiest in the entire North.
“Kustu... is dead?”
“We’ve lost... even with all of us together?”
“To Ferdium, of all things...”
The warriors’ last shreds of morale vanished.
Some fought with desperate tenacity, but their struggle was meaningless.
Surrounded, with countless comrades already fallen, the remaining warriors continued to fall one by one.
Crack! Crack!
“Aaaargh!”
Thud! Thud!
The air was filled with the sound of weapons striking and bodies falling, along with the warriors’ screams.
Thud! Thud!
Then, all at once, silence settled over the battlefield. Only the harsh breathing of the survivors remained.
A resounding victory.
Not a single barbarian had escaped alive.
“It’s finally over...”
A knight muttered, and as if his words were a signal, everyone began removing their helmets and setting down their weapons.
The field within the encirclement was soaked in blood like a lake, but no one cared.
Collapsing onto the bloody ground, Skovan lay down, too exhausted to move.
After catching his breath for a while, he suddenly chuckled.
“Can this be real?”
They had completely annihilated the barbarian alliance of thousands with fewer than half their numbers.
Had there ever been such a victory in Ferdium’s history? No. Not since Skovan had become a knight.
They’d always fought defensively within their fortresses, chasing down small raiders when they could.
Never had they won such a decisive battle on open ground.
It felt incredibly refreshing. Ever since Ghislain had arrived, everything felt that way, but this time was on another level. He couldn’t even begin to describe how he felt.
So he just laughed as loud as he could.
“Hahaha! We did it! We killed them all! We won! Damn it, all hail the Grand Duke! Hahaha!”
His laughter spread like wildfire. Soon, knights and soldiers alike raised their arms and cheered.
“Woooo! We won!”
“Victory is ours!”
“We finally killed them all!”
The troops were almost delirious with joy. And they all knew who they owed this overwhelming victory to.
The cheers and praises quickly turned toward one person.
The man standing in the midst of the battlefield, drenched in blood and smiling.
“The Grand Duke has done it again!”
Zwalter, watching Ghislain mingling with the soldiers and laughing, shook his head.
“Every time, it’s amazing.”
This battle made it clear that the new mana cultivation technique Ghislain had developed was no idle experiment.
Ghislain was now the most skilled warrior in all of Ferdium.
But there was something even more remarkable.
“Where does he get such fearlessness?”
Zwalter, who had lived his whole life on battlefields, felt a kind of ease emanating from Ghislain that he himself had never known. There wasn’t even a hint of excitement from the victory in Ghislain’s expression—just the calm assurance of someone who viewed this result as completely expected.
He’d felt a similar aura during the battle for Ferdium Fortress, but at the time, he’d dismissed it as just a passing feeling. Ghislain had moved so swiftly afterward to seize Digald that Zwalter hadn’t had time to think about it.
Although Zwalter had missed much of Ghislain’s childhood due to his own duties, he remembered his son well enough to know he had never been like this.
What had changed him so completely?
Zwalter’s thoughts briefly shifted to Ghislain’s uncanny strategic insight.
How could he have planned this perfectly?
Despite his surprise at Ghislain charging ahead alone, everything had unfolded exactly as planned.
Ghislain had predicted every move of the barbarians. It was nothing short of incredible.
Did he say he planned this with that man, Claude?
Strategic success in battle depended heavily on accurate intelligence. Ghislain had mentioned that Claude had gathered information and collaborated with him to formulate their plan.
If that’s true, then Claude is remarkable...
“Ohhh! Our lord has won again! Oh my, how many victories is that now? Should we count only the big ones and call it three out of three? Or make it four out of four, including the last one?”
At that moment, Claude, with Wendy trailing behind, approached Ghislain, speaking in a voice both effusive and sycophantic. His exaggerated bow and hand-wringing were almost comically obsequious.
Zwalter frowned as he observed Claude.
“This one’s definitely a weasel, no doubt about it. Looks like the type who’d accept a bribe with both hands.”
Claude’s movements were as light as a feather, almost too loose to take seriously. It was hard to believe that someone like him could gather intelligence and help plan such a battle.
Ignoring Zwalter’s skeptical gaze, Claude continued addressing Ghislain.
“We’ve secured thousands more horses from this battle. Shall we head back now? I’d really love to go home.”
They had already acquired plenty of horses by defeating smaller tribes. If they now took care of the remaining barbarian settlements, their stockpile would be more than enough.
But Ghislain shook his head.
“Since we’re here, we might as well get more.”
“We’ve been away for quite a while now. Count Desmond could pull something if we delay further. He probably knows by now that we’re away.”
Claude was right. They’d been in the region for two months, and given the proximity to Desmond’s territory, staying here too long wasn’t wise.
“All right, I’ll wrap things up soon, so don’t worry. By the way, you made sure the prisoners watched the battle, didn’t you?”
“Yes, as you instructed, some of them witnessed everything from start to finish.”
“Good. Let them go, mounted, and make sure word spreads far and wide.”
“As you wish. Facing these enemies should be easier now.”
“Exactly. After a beating like this, they won’t take us lightly.”
Listening to their conversation, Zwalter coughed lightly and chimed in.
“Well done. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
“You too, Father. The Ferdium troops performed admirably, sticking to the plan.”
“Of course! Who trained them, after all?”
Zwalter puffed out his chest with pride.
Though Ferdium’s forces were small and poorly equipped, Zwalter took pride in the discipline and skill gained through rigorous training and extensive battlefield experience.
As he mentally patted himself on the back, Zwalter finally asked the question on his mind.
“Is it wise to release those prisoners? Won’t they just rally and come at us again?”
Ghislain grinned and answered confidently.
“Don’t worry. Right now, there’s at least one reason they won’t want to fight us again anytime soon.”
