Chapter 120
Kwaaaaang!
An explosive sound awakened the tranquil night of the full moon.
The eyes of the masked assailant widened in surprise as a wave of force pushed at him.
In that moment, Logan, who had closed the distance in an instant, spoke.
"Thrilling, isn't it?"
The golden blade in his smiling face swung with enough power to split the world in two.
Bang!
The masked assailant staggered backward in confusion.
"How could this...?!"
Despite having used Force Blade, he was shocked to be overpowered in sword force.
'He let his guard down after ambushing.'
Logan inwardly smiled at the irony, though his sword did not stop its advance.
If the opponent was complacent, it was his duty to exploit it.
A condensed golden light was just about to shoot from the tip of Logan's blade when he felt a chilling killing intent from behind and instinctively rolled forward, abandoning his strike.
Fwoooosh!
Another Force Blade sliced through the air, close behind where Logan had just been.
'Two of them?!'
He hadn't sensed the second assailant until the moment before the attack.
Logan's expression hardened.
"A top-ranking knight resorts to ambush tactics with masks? Where's their pride?"
He tried to provoke a response, but only swords lashed at him from both sides. No words spoken.
Moreover, screams began to echo from inside the mansion.
The masked assailants finally spoke upon seeing Logan's stern face.
"This is the price for defying him."
"Just die quietly."
However, those words only made Logan's lips curl into a sly smile.
* * *
"I swear, I've got night duty for three straight days; could there be a bit of flexibility... Ow! Okay, okay, I get it! I'm heading out now!"
Jansen, a McLaine soldier who got hit for trying to shirk duty, grumbled as he walked through the mansion's corridor.
"That's because you swapped shifts with Leo on your day off. You brought this upon yourself. Now shut up and patrol properly."
Hansen, a senior soldier, chided Jansen, who kept looking nervously behind as if he was wary of the knight following them.
Tonight, of all nights, their companion in patrol duty was the knight Digrom, notoriously known for sticking strictly to principles and rules.
'Didn't he just earn the title of Waterside Knight? Shouldn't he be in a good mood once, take some time off? Seriously, why did the Duke suddenly assign us this task.'
Jansen was somewhat displeased with the excessive security that started right after the brief war and the capture of Bifrostt—deploying three squads of knights (18 men) and a hundred soldiers every day just to guard a mansion where only the lord's family and servants resided at night.
'Those folks are mighty strong on their own. I should be the one needing protection, really.'
He couldn't voice his complaints aloud, so he let out a deep sigh and turned his head to look outside the window.
Swoosh.
He thought he saw something odd.
Jansen, instantly alert, raised his right hand above his head, making a fist.
It meant "Stop. Situation abnormal."
Drowsy soldiers snapped to attention and hurriedly took out their crossbows.
Crrrrk.
Machinery clicked as the weapons, more familiar than spears to the regular McLaine soldiers, were loaded in unison.
Then, suddenly:
"Up!"
Knight Digrom barked a short command and swung his sword into the air.
Kwaaaaang!
Finally, a black-masked figure was revealed, being struck upwards, visible now to all the soldiers.
"Fire!"
On Hansen's order, Jansen aimed at the figure with precision and fired the crossbow.
Click.
Two bolts rapidly shot out almost simultaneously.
Papapapak.
A familiar sound of arrows cutting through air.
Jansen couldn't fully track their motion, but he counted at least ten bolts including those of his comrades.
The masked figure, slightly staggering from collision, deflected the short arrows in rapid succession.
Chang, chang, chaaang!
'Is that even human?'
The scene was one he'd occasionally witnessed on the battlefield; this Force user seemed otherworldly compared to regular people.
As the masked figure deflected the arrows, a moment of distortion appeared.
"Ugh!"
Two bolts pierced the assailant's left arm and right thigh.
'Huh?'
Even seeing with his own eyes, Jansen was befuddled.
"Fire again!"
Before he could think, Digrom's instruction prompted another pull of the trigger.
The semi-automatic crossbow, reloaded by reflex, spit out two more bolts.
But Jansen knew this attempt would fail—the only person who had shot was him. Merely two bolts.
He imagined the monster deflecting the bolts and charging at him.
But,
Chang!
Thud.
Perhaps due to extreme tension, he vaguely saw the figure deflect one bolt and then get struck in the thigh by another.
In that instant, Knight Digrom sped by his side.
Kwaaaaang!
A clash between monsters, but the wounded fell swiftly.
"Well done."
Having dispatched the enemy, Digrom returned, lifting his blood-splattered visor and patting Jansen on the shoulder.
"I, I just fired because you told me to..."
"That was good. You did the right thing."
"Huh?"
"The corridor. In this short distance, even a Force user can't block everything. They're not armored, so even a high-level one would die, right?"
As his cynically delivered answer hung in the air, screams sounded from afar.
- Aaahhh!
Everyone jumped, startled.
"No need to rush. They're moving one by one, which means the enemy is few. Advance slowly! Fire on sight of anything dark! I've got the rear."
Digrom coolly assessed the situation and commanded, instilling confidence even amidst chaos.
An unwavering leader adherent to principles, this was the moment Digrom became the idol of the soldiers.
* * *
There couldn't be many in the world capable of sending two top-grade Force users as assassins.
And among them, there was currently only one person bearing a grudge against Logan or his family.
'Yordan Valtamaim.'
He expected the man wouldn’t stay idle but was surprised by the drastic move.
Although Logan didn’t know the total number of infiltrators, facing even these two meant certain defeat for the old McLaine.
If there were more like these...
'No. That's unlikely. And even if so, we're sufficiently prepared.'
Logan calmed his mind to focus on the immediate threat ahead.
A Force Blade whizzed dangerously close overhead, slicing through the air as he ducked.
The skills of the assailant facing Logan were textbook perfect and fundamentally sound.
Even more so, the use of the Force Blade’s variability to fluidly change range was so intricate that it bewildered Logan’s sense of distance.
The other was different.
Ssak!
With a creepy sensation, Logan rolled aside, and like a ghost, another Force Blade emerged, slashing through the air where he had been.
It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, blending into darkness, an enigma to the eyes.
A top-grade Force user from assassin origins.
This spectacle almost validated the whispered tales of the Empire's 'ghosts' from a previous life.
Ssak!
"Ugh!"
Lost in thought for a moment, Logan was grazed on the thigh by the enemy blade, snapping back to attention.
Danger.
Yet, for some reason, he never felt he would lose.
Even though still considered advanced level, his combat strength was different from when he defeated Aslan.
Even if that strength was mostly due to an artifact, it was still encouraging.
Facing two top-grade enemies, finding the mere possibility of victory seemed nonsensical.
'Hang on, and an opportunity will come.'
Logan focused solely on that thought and swung his sword cautiously.
Chang, chang!
Boom!
He deflected the relentless assaults with minimal movement, smoothly redirecting them.
He couldn't remain completely unhurt, though.
As the fight dragged on, lacerations increased, forcing him into a blood-soaked frenzy to avoid being hit.
Although he couldn't check, his face was likely pale as a ghost.
But Logan was convinced that the expressions beneath his assailants' masks were even worse.
'They're anxious.'
The screams had quieted down; it was nearly over, regardless of their numbers.
They couldn't leave him, though. He had demonstrated enough prowess to bite fiercely at any vulnerability.
A flaw soon revealed itself in the masked assailant in front.
"Die!"
Gone was the air of arrogance when they invoked 'his name' earlier.
Blazing red Force now enveloped them, attacks significantly faster and stronger.
'Overheat.'
Ignoring the consequences, the highest peak of attack using Force was actually welcomed by Logan.
Just hang on for a moment longer, and the chance would arise.
Chang, chang, chang!
He concentrated on defense, letting his strength flow away with deflections.
"Yeeaaah!"
An overwhelming slash couldn't just be sidestepped with finesse.
Kwaaaaang!
Forced back nearly ten meters, Logan felt a cold sensation on his back and twisted his body in reflex, but was still hit by a burning attack that dug into his flank.
"Ugh!"
And with that, an agonizing pain pierced his head.
"It's over."
A cold voice followed as the twisted blade moved sideways.
Before his vision whitened, Logan spontaneously poured out a wave of golden light from 'his body,' rather than his sword—directly backward.
Kwakwakwakwang!
"Cough!"
The assailant who had almost killed Logan was swept away by the golden wave.
The first form of the Divine Blade Technique, Wave Splitter, had manifested from sheer will, without any proper Force control.
And that could only mean one thing.
Cough.
"Haha."
A bloodied Logan smiled looking down at his sword.
A clear, golden light overlaid the Lux, forming a distinct shape.
Just moments ago, it was like a flaming Force, but now it was refined into the form of a sword.
"Force Blade..."
"No way!"
As honeysuckle as Logan's current state was, the 30cm Force Blade rising from the tip of his sword was enough to horrify his adversaries.
Seeing an increase in martial prowess during combat—a fairy tale lie from hero stories—unfolded right before their eyes.
"Kill him! He's gravely injured!"
The thrown assassin screamed, charging in again.
But the impact from the Blue Slash casually inflicted earlier had taken its toll; he couldn't fully blend into the darkness as before.
"Die!"
Spurred by the shout, the other masked figure hurled themselves back into fray.
"Should have attacked instead of running your mouth, fools."
Whiteness burst from the bracelet on his right hand, rapidly healing most of Logan's wounds.
The golden Force Blade extending over 1m from his sword tip gracefully embroidered the dark night sky.