Chapter 117

“Hurry up and move! Take only the valuables and leave everything else behind in the house.”

Soldiers were guiding the residents of Somerset Territory to Somerset Mansion.

The faces of the evacuating Territory Inhabitants were filled with anxiety as they followed the soldiers’ instructions.

“What in the world is going on here?”

“I heard the soldiers talking—Sleepy Territory has already been devastated.”

“Lord Bradley wouldn’t order an evacuation for no reason, so we’d better follow along!”

Since the founding of the Borus Empire, it had always been the aggressor and never the victim. For the Territory Inhabitants, this was their first time experiencing a retreat like this.

One might expect chaos, but surprisingly, all the people followed the soldiers’ commands and moved in perfect order.

The reason they weren’t falling into confusion despite their unease was simple:

They knew Count Bradley, their Lord, would never do anything to harm them, so they trusted his judgment and obeyed.

“We’re detecting enemy incursions from the east and north sides of the barrier.”

“Not as fast as I expected.”

“Indeed. Based on their movement speed, they should’ve arrived much earlier.”

The joint forces had set up a boundary that reacted only to Night’s Kin. Placed at the edge of the territory, it signaled now that Sleepy Territory must have held out far longer than anticipated.

Baron Sleepy’s last stand had successfully delayed them.

“Let me share our vision with you then.”

The Mage Tower’s Dark Wizards began sharing the barrier’s perimeter vision with the allied forces using magic.

“What is this number?! This isn’t just one branch!”

“This many?! If we hadn’t prepared, we’d be utterly annihilated during transit.”

“Wait! I can see the faces of Sataniel’s direct subordinates—the 12 Commanders scattered among them.”

Normally elusive and avoiding detection by the empire, Night’s Kin were uncharacteristically invading openly across imperial lands, which left the Crimson Warden troops baffled.

And their confusion wasn’t misplaced.

The number of dark elves visible through the wizards’ shared vision easily exceeded a thousand.

Considering each branch of Night’s Kin typically consisted of 50-100 members, the gathered force represented nearly their entire fighting strength.

“They’ve made up their minds.”

Cypris suddenly remembered Count Bradley insisting on extending the barrier to the territory’s borders, something she initially thought excessive. Now, it proved to be the wisest decision.

Had they only protected Somerset Mansion, the people might have suffered the same fate as those in Sleepy Territory when Night’s Kin invaded.

“Everyone, prepare for battle. Once the civilians are clear, we’ll face the enemies here.”

Alexander, Commander of the Zion Knights, addressed the group while a wizard questioned aloud,

“With the barrier in place, won’t the enemies simply retreat?”

“If their main force is here, then he’s here too. Sooner or later, the barrier will fall.”

Silence fell over the allies. Everyone knew who ‘he’ referred to.

Former chief of the Elven sentinels, heir to the blood of crimson, Slayer of Swordstars…

All these titles pointed to one individual: Sataniel, undoubtedly present here.

*

“Triple barriers…you’ve gone through quite some trouble.”

Zap. Crack.

Sataniel’s hand halted abruptly against an invisible wall, sparking electricity-like energy.

“Forgive me, Master Sataniel. My subordinates are tracking the barrier materials and sigils as quickly as possible…”

“Enough. I wasn’t counting on you lot anyway.”

Breaking barriers traditionally required finding their core material or sigil patterns. With three layers, dismantling them one by one would give the enemy ample time to escape.

“It’s been a while. Time for me to use my own power again.”

Since defeating the Swordstar years ago, Sataniel hadn’t acted openly until now.

As the progenitor of reborn Dark Elves, he wielded their abilities most perfectly.

No race could fully utilize its potential. For instance, even if elves could theoretically run faster than arrows fired from bows, physical limitations prevented sustaining such speeds due to exhaustion.

But not Sataniel. Physical strain meant nothing to him.

Like a bolt of lightning, he charged straight toward the barrier.

BOOM!

An impossible sound echoed—a deafening roar akin to cannonballs hitting castle gates.

CRACK.

Fine fractures appeared on the supposedly impenetrable barrier.

“Once won’t suffice, it seems.”

Though Sataniel dismissed it casually, his underlings stared in shock.

‘We struggle to approach this barrier, yet he shatters it effortlessly.’

Despite their newfound strength as Night’s Kin, they remained vulnerable to natural and divine forces—a weakness Sataniel didn’t share. He was tearing apart what they couldn’t even touch.

A different league of power.

Only Sataniel, inheritor of the bloodline, could achieve this. Should he obtain the Blue Flower and transcend further, stopping him might become truly impossible.

*

“Could I borrow a sword?”

Edric asked Kroon.

“Well, it’s more of a hobby project…”

Kroon revealed a hidden blade he’d secretly crafted.

“Impressive. The balance is flawless—no minor adjustments needed.”

As Edric swung the sword lightly, Kroon couldn’t hide his pride.

‘A sword? Why create such terrifying weapons?’

While developing new items brought joy, crafting weapons like swords was an irresistible urge for artisans.

However, Rupert constantly nagged about material costs whenever Kroon tried making weapons, forcing him to work covertly. Thus, finding someone appreciating his secret creation delighted Kroon immensely.

“The core is northern steel! And I added mithril for surface treatment, ensuring its sharpness lasts indefinitely.”

“Indeed, and this leather grip—isn’t it from a young dragon?”

“You noticed! You’ve got good eyes!”

Drake, wyvern, or burrow snake—all creatures sharing draconic traits were collectively called ‘Lesser Dragons.’ Their hides possessed unique adaptability to environments, making them highly sought after for armor.

Using such rare materials on a sword hilt showcased Kroon’s craftsmanship. The adaptive leather maintained consistent handling, offering subtle yet significant advantages only the wielder could feel.

“With this, I should be able to assist properly.”

Edric, visiting Somerset to study painting, hadn’t brought his sword, so borrowing this fine weapon felt like a stroke of luck.

“Edric-sama, perhaps it’s safer to evacuate…”

“Better to die than live fleeing.”

Kyle cautiously advised Edric, who stood ready for battle alongside him.

“My teacher’s killer stands before me. There’s nowhere else I belong.”

Even Rupert had urged the Manga Club members to flee. After all, having issues arise with Prince Edric (the Third Prince), the Second Son of Count Prious, or foreign prince Adrian Belmont would cause massive complications.

Yet none of them left, leaving Rupert flustered.

“In the northern regions, food scarcity often leads monsters to attack settlements.”

Known for its harsh environment, the north relied on House Prious as the empire’s shield. Abandoning his post now would earn disownment from his father, declared Count Prious’s son, Kyle.

Meanwhile, Adrian added,

“I haven’t paid for my stay, so I can’t just leave.”

Though seemingly powerless, Adrian’s royal knights were elite warriors selected from Sylvania, guaranteeing substantial support.

And finally, there was Edric.

Recalling his first swordmaster, who once said:

– “With this training, you should be able to develop your own style, Your Highness. Teaching you was the greatest pleasure.”

Stay well.

Losing his mentor, Swordstar Cal Origen, was hard to accept, but Edric realized there was still one way to honor him.

“Their screams shall compose a requiem for my master.”

For the first time, the ever-composed Edric displayed anger before others.