Thwack.
The blade punched through the forehead, into the brain that housed a universe of knowledge. Thorne watched those dead eyes. He flicked his long blade.
"Seluvis, die!"
The killing was quick, clean. No drawn-out heroics. No endless clashing. From the dragon's fall to the magical trap, the blinding flash, the dense descent of sword light, a single minute. The shattered corpses lay on the highway. The swordsman's blade, precise to the millimeter, found the head. A feast of slaughter. Even the Haligtree Army's experts would cheer.
"Not bad." The tall, red-haired woman nodded.
Such speed was a pleasure. Why trade blows when one move could end it?
"Your Highness, this is the defecting sorcerer I spoke of. The academy sees him as a threat, though they haven't named the crimes." A Cleanrot Knight stepped forward. Pale green eyes. Finlay. I knew her from the lake. Primeval Sorcerers were top secret. The academy wouldn't broadcast it. Even lecturers could only guess.
Malenia kept her gaze fixed on the horizon. "What have you learned?" she asked softly.
"Roland Heinberg—the one with the blade—killed the thieving Cuckoo Knights and then openly defected during his trial."
"Cuckoo Knights? They deserve death! To enjoy a lord's privileges without serving the people is a crime!" Her voice was ice. Not pity. Just the basic contract of a feudal lord. Finlay nodded. She had heard the same.
Under the guidance of Lord Miquella, the order of the Haligtree was 'inclusion' — any race could live peacefully. Naturally, they had no love for the Cuckoos.
"Besides, you're wrong."
"Wrong?" Finlay looked up, surprised. Malenia handed her an open letter. She read, first with shock, then understanding, finally with a flash of amusement.
"So he's related to the Carian Royal Family. No wonder the academy made such a fuss."
"No, the academy doesn't know."
Huh? Then why the relentless pursuit?
Under the guidance of Lord Miquella, the order of the Haligtree...
Finlay didn't know Sellen took the fall for everything. She handed the envelope back, her voice gloomy. "So, will you help him?"
"Ranni isn't ready for that yet." Malenia shook her head. Abruptly, she asked, "But that last strike — did you see it clearly?"
"I did. That strike... it was similar to your Waterfowl Dance." Finlay, a powerhouse herself, saw it perfectly. Swift, agile, precise. Wherever the long blade passed, only a field of corpses remained.
Of course, the physical reality was different. Like a kindergartner trying to mimic a master's punch. The moment they struck a pose, an adult would slap them to the ground. "He's still weak. But that 'intent' is interesting. Not just for show. Finlay."
"Present." The knight knelt on one knee. "Open the camp gates. If they have the courage, let them in." The Valkyrie's words were followed by her turning away, mouth twitching with pain. Finlay, close to her, asked jokingly, "And if the academy comes for them, what do we say?"
Malenia paused, suppressing the agony of the Scarlet Rot. She waved a hand dismissively. "The weak have no right to pester me."
Under the gaze of nearly everyone, Thorne pulled out his blade and kicked Seluvis's head away. He grimaced, checking his side. The wound was deep. Deep enough to see his pale ribs. His blood mixed with others, falling in thick droplets. He stripped off the sorcerer's robe, tying it loosely around his waist. He saw a thick notebook wedged in Seluvis's mangled body. Without thinking, he stuffed it into his ring. "You're injured?"
Sellen walked over, unsteady. Her nose wrinkled, fighting off dizziness. "It's nothing."
"Nothing?"
Sellen looked at the Ronin Armor, now rags. "Of course. If Seluvis tried again, he'd still end up dead!" Thorne grinned, savage. He raised his hand. "Master, let's go."
"Wait a moment." Sellen pulled out a dagger, slicing her palm. Sharp pain cleared her head instantly. Only then did she take Thorne's hand. "That's much better. Let's go."
She's tough! Thorne's eye twitched, but relief washed over him.
Given the situations he faced, a cute girl like Tina wouldn't survive; only someone ruthless could follow a Sword Ghost. Supporting each other, their steps were heavy. They were at the end of their ropes. After a night of terror and bloody battle, they had no energy for joy. The sound of hooves echoed in the distance. A unit, heading south along the Bellum Highway. Thorne's heart leaped. Now was the most dangerous time. "Disciple, how sure are you?" Sellen felt the weight on her shoulder. She was practically carrying Thorne.
The military camp loomed.
Sunlight flashed off armor. Thorne's body felt heavy, slow. The night had been a slaughter. Strength, both body and mind, frayed at the edges. But those brilliant blue eyes held their light. He answered, without hesitation, "Sixty percent?"
Sellen's breath hitched. Sixty percent. Too high.
"Are you close with the Valkyrie?" she blurted.
Thorne forced a smile. "I know someone who is."
He saw Adula. A success, maybe, but not a sure thing. Did Ranni's name hold enough weight? This was it, his foreknowledge as a transmigrator put to the test. Malenia would be curious about the Secret Sword: Vortex Cloud Crossing. He'd barely pulled it off. Sellen knew nothing of this. She watched her disciple, who could shift from genius to madman in a heartbeat. "And if it doesn't work?"
"Jump into the sea to survive. Master, let me tell you what posture you should adopt when falling into water from a great height..."
Whispers.
They crossed the Bellum Highway. Thorne's joking seemed to have calmed Sellen's nerves. The sound of hooves grew closer. Including the previous night, Thorne's miraculous successes, his "giving it a try," now numbered three. Each time he'd escaped by a hair. Each time, against all odds, he found a way.
Burning the academy's archives to the ground and walking away.
Escaping under the noses of hundreds of sorcerers, out of that fortress.
Surrounded by dozens of sorcerers and knights, even killing a magic professor.
Seluvis.
Sellen thought: not scientific, not magical. Even so, she believed he could.
"They're on us!"
"Yeah. I see them." Thorne saw the sorcerers crest the hill, miles away.
Leon and Oritis. The two leading magic professors. One tall, one short.
The sorcerers were stunned.
Smarag, covered in blood, struggled into the air. A Glintstone Dragon roared, a mix of joy and regret.
They saw the slaughter on the highway. Two figures, limping towards the military camp.
The roars of the Battle Mages could be heard from miles away...
Hooves accelerated, a drumming urgency. Enraged sorcerers surged forward.
A horn blared from the camp. Crossbowmen tensed. Knights stood ready. The seasoned army's pressure descended.
"Still moving?" Sellen's voice was tight. One error, and ten thousand arrows found their mark. She turned. A grin split his face. Madness danced in his eyes, a gambler's fever. "Forward!" Sellen bit back a curse, entrusting herself to this disciple, seemingly blessed by forces beyond.
She muttered, hurrying, "Too heavy! You'll lose weight for your master later!" Thorne was silent, his gaze fixed on the wooden wall ahead. Archers on the wall hadn't raised their bows. The hand on Sellen's shoulder tightened. It worked. Creak.
The camp gates swung open. Sunlight spilled across his face. Two towering Cleanrot Knights stood at the entrance, thrusting swords held at the ready.
They watched. No move to draw steel. "Master, wait a moment." Thorne's voice cut the air. Sellen stopped. He turned, enduring the pain, and pointed at the sorcerers, now beyond bowshot range. His lips peeled back, revealing blood-stained teeth. The gates began to close. A bloody swordsman's wild defiance seared itself in the sorcerers' minds. It was a promise.
Wait for me!
The Haligtree flag snapped in the wind. The scrape of patrolling soldiers' armor was a constant sound. Archers on the watchtowers scanned the area. Haligtree Knights and Cleanrot Knights were stationed at regular intervals. Dormant Golems, over ten meters tall, stood at the camp's edge. Any who dared scale those cliffs would be crushed. Trained, equipped, disciplined. A world away from the Cuckoo Knights.
Combined with their massive numbers in the thousands, no one in The Lands Between could challenge them except for the royal capital Leyndell and Caelid under Radahn's rule; the rest were mere rabble. The Valkyrie's military might was unstoppable. Wherever her blade pointed, even a mountain would be leveled by military boots. This power was enough to walk tall throughout Liurnia. The sorcerers halted their horses in the distance, glaring hatefully at the sprawling camp. An envoy had already gone to demand the pair, but Malenia's answer was simple.
No one matched the description. No sorcerers. Not a one seen entering the camp. A rogue needed a firm hand. A ruler brooked no argument.
"Let's return. Ready the gates. Close them. The outside world has become a storm we cannot weather."
Oritis sat his horse. Watched. A long time. Then he sighed. You can't fight City Hall. Four magic professors, together, wouldn't hold a candle to Malenia. They'd become a joke.
"Just like that?"
Leon's fists clenched. Teeth ground. "So many sorcerers dead. The academy…humiliated. And we just let them go?!"
"What else do you propose? No sorcerers entered the camp. Malenia's explanation…plausible." The head of the Haima Classroom was stunned. The explanation was weak, yes, but no glintstone crowns or sorcerers' robes. Not on those who entered. Not even in the Erdtree's best days could this be argued. Much less now.
The Elden Lord, the one who dispensed justice…gone. Might made right. Malenia held the justice of the Cleanrot Knights. The Haligtree Army. Her flying bird swordsmanship. The academy? Bookworms. Not built for argument. The Carian Royal Family breathed down their necks. If they abandoned all pretense, even with the Cuckoo Knights' help, what chance did they have against that military might?
The Cuckoos lacked the courage to fight the Haligtree Army. But they had the nerve to tie up professors. Hand them over. For wealth. For glory. They still couldn't accept it. Sellen was a threat. The magic apprentice who fled with her, an even greater menace.
"Is there no other way?"
"Malenia said we can search her camp if we don't believe her. Are you going? Or am I?" Oritis asked. He watched his companion freeze. Then he sighed, patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. The Haligtree Army won't shelter those two forever. We'll have another chance." He turned his horse. Left.
Anyone who became a magic professor knew when to yield. Leon stared at the sprawling camp. Resentment burned. The academy had nothing. Nothing worth the Valkyrie's interest.
I'll see just how long you two can hide! ... "They're gone." Sellen lifted the tent flap. Stepped into the gloomy tent. Thorne lay bandaged on a cot.
Still, his eyes flickered. He wasn't dead. "Just as I thought. Before Malenia, the academy has no claim to reason. Besides, they were in the wrong from the start." Thorne pushed himself up, wincing at his wounds. "The Cuckoos overstepped. The academy imprisoning Rennala and attacking the Carian Royal Family also angered Malenia."
"Is it that simple?" Sellen didn't grasp the situation.
"Yes. Family aside, Malenia is a feudal lord. She despises subordinates who topple their superiors. If that became commonplace, which of these demigods, born to rule, could ever sleep soundly?" Thorne licked his dry lips. He explained further:
"The Valkyrie's interest is only part of it. As the lord with the best chance to claim the throne, she must restore the Erdtree's order, whether she wants to or not."
Sellen rubbed her chin, thinking. Thorne was right. Whether Rennala had lost her mind or not, the war in Liurnia was essentially a rebellion. Subjects against their lord — and that lord was an in-law of the Golden Lineage.
If the Elden Ring hadn't shattered, the demigods would have used the sorcerers' and Cuckoos' heads to teach everyone the meaning of obedience. "You cannot take what I do not give you."
That was enough. Stance was the foundation. To say the Secret Sword caught her eye would be too conceited. To say Ranni helped in secret — if she hadn't, wouldn't that be wishful thinking? "It seems we're safe. A grand Valkyrie like her wouldn't offer help, or let us in, if she meant to kill us."
She relaxed, raising an eyebrow at the weakened Thorne. "Disciple, how are your injuries?" My mouth is dry from all this analysis, and you finally think to care.
Thorne closed his eyes, answering gloomily, "I won't die. I'll recover after a few days' rest."
It wasn't just recovery. He'd killed many on the way out. Seluvis was particularly nourishing. A pity his 'Dragon Heritage' couldn't fully absorb the power. Otherwise, he wouldn't have risked entering the Haligtree Army.
Seeing him close his eyes, Sellen thought he would sleep. She sat cross-legged, took out a notebook, and began writing. She analyzed the magical spectrum of Thops' Barrier. The bald sorcerer had a great imagination, but even with Thorne's help, his magical understanding was far below Sellen's. Once she started, she could use her experience and knowledge to conduct in-depth research.
Amidst the quiet, Thorne frowned, his thoughts drifting deeper.