Chapter 185

“What kind of power is this…?!”

Vector froze in place as shards of aura from the clashing swords stormed around him.

Though he himself was a transcendent who had mastered a domain, he could not imagine wielding the level of power displayed by the combatants before him.

CRACKLE!

From the sky, bolts of dark lightning rained down, only to be obliterated by storm-like gales rising from the ground.

Julius and Ed fought like titans, their power far beyond what could be considered human.

Their movements seemed simple—swinging, cutting, thrusting—but Vector could sense the depth behind each strike, each motion branching into countless possibilities.

“These monsters aren’t human. They’re demons wearing human skin.”

To Vector, that was the only possible explanation.

Such strength should never have been granted to mere mortals.

“The Great One’s teachings are true. Gods must remain gods, humans must remain humans, each bound to their rightful place and duty. This world must know the Great One’s will, and their heretical power must be stripped away—”

But Vector’s thoughts were interrupted.

BOOM!

A thunderous roar came from the direction of the main gates.

The Black Iron Brigade had formed a wedge formation, plowing through the battlefield with devastating force.

Vector’s face lit up with a twisted smile.

“They’ve come!”

Before the ritual began, Ed had spoken confidently to him.

“We’ve received intelligence that Ragnar plans to disrupt the resurrection ritual. The White Armor Vanguard is expected to lead the assault.”

“Those heretics seek to hinder us again…!”

“But don’t worry. Their plan will fail.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you forgotten? Troiban still has a blade hidden within Ragnar. Now is the time to unsheathe it.”

“Ah!”

“It’s time to reveal its identity.”

Ed had often claimed that his faction within Ragnar had not been entirely eradicated.

Ragnar’s long history was rife with internal conflicts and fractures. Even the slightest push could make it crumble.

Ed had assured Vector that when the time came, this blade would strike Ragnar at its heart.

And now, on the eve of the resurrection ritual, that blade had been drawn.

“What is this blade?”

“Torkel Ragnar. The captain of the Black Iron Brigade.”

Vector had laughed hysterically at the time.

The idea of a direct heir of the hated Ragnar clan betraying his own family was too deliciously ironic.

“The Fifth Apostle has likely bestowed their grace upon him,” Ed had mused.

If that were true, then Torkel’s betrayal was divinely ordained.

Granada Troiban, who himself had received the Fifth Apostle’s favor, would oversee everything as part of the Great One’s grand design.

Now, the White Armor Vanguard would be plunged into despair.

The moment they realized their allies were actually their enemies, their morale would shatter.

They would die here, their blood and bodies becoming nourishment for the resurrection.

But—

“Leave no cultist alive!”

Torkel’s thunderous roar echoed across the battlefield.

“Understood!”

“Understood!”

The Black Iron Brigade’s cavalry charged forward, their lances and hooves trampling everything in their path.

SPLAT! SPLAT! BOOM!

“Ugh…!”

“Why… Why are they attacking us?!”

“It’s the Black Iron Brigade… Run! Run from them!”

It wasn’t the White Armor Vanguard who were being slaughtered.

It was the blood priests of the Holy Demon Church.

“Something’s wrong!”

Vector’s face twisted in confusion as the battle unfolded in a completely unexpected way. He quickly turned his gaze to Ed.

「What is this, Young Lord?! This is not what you promised! The Black Iron Brigade was supposed to support us—」

Before he could finish, Vector had to cut off his telepathic message.

Ed’s gaze had shifted toward him—cold, devoid of any emotion.

In that instant, a dreadful realization dawned upon Vector.

“No… Could it be… Troiban’s true aim was—”

He tried to turn his head toward the Black Flower, but—

「You’re far too slow to realize, Cardinal. But I suppose it’s thanks to your ignorance that we made it this far.”

Suddenly, a figure appeared before Vector.

A man wearing a plain, featureless mask—Troiban’s infamous shadow, Bongong.

At last, Vector understood.

The Holy Demon Church was divided, a coalition of five Apostles and their respective factions.

For years, the Fifth Apostle’s militaristic faction, centered around Troiban, had clashed with the ritualistic faction of the Third Apostle.

This was an internal coup.

The Black Flower was never meant to be completed for the Third Apostle’s faction.

Troiban had planned to seize it all along.

And when everything was over, they would pin the blame on Ragnar to cover their tracks.

It was a cunning, ruthless strategy.

SLASH!

SPLURT!

That was Vector’s last thought before his head was severed from his body.

***

The Black Iron Brigade was intent on proving why they belonged among Ragnar’s four greatest forces.

Their path was one of sheer destruction—ruthlessly piercing, smashing, and annihilating everything in their wake.

Where they passed, nothing remained but shattered remnants of bodies and hoofprints stamped in blood-soaked ground.

Yet, something about their actions unsettled Theo.

“This isn’t right.”

He couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease.

“It’s too linear.”

Even though the Black Iron Brigade’s primary strength lay in its ability to breach and crush, this was too deliberate, too directed—

“It’s as if they’re heading toward a specific target…”

That’s when Theo’s gaze landed on it.

At the end of their path loomed the half-bloomed Black Flower.

The Ominous Flower

Despite the ritual’s interruption with the death of the priests, blood from the corpses had pooled into a river, slowly seeping into the Black Flower.

SQUELCH.

Petal by petal, the flower began to unfurl, emitting an ominous, black glow from its core.

“No!”

Without even fully grasping his thoughts, Theo moved. Instinct drove him, and Umbra, his drake companion, emerged from the shadows to carry him to the flower with lightning speed.

Clash at the Flower

“Got it.”

Just as the Black Iron Brigade approached the Black Flower, Torkel Ragnar, at their forefront, reached out for it with a voice tinged with exhilaration.

But before he could touch it, Theo struck.

BANG!

Umbra carried Theo in a flash, intercepting Torkel’s hand and deflecting it.

Torkel’s armored horse reared up, whinnying loudly.

“Theo Ragnar, what the hell are you doing?”

Underneath his helm, Torkel’s glowing eyes gleamed with unrestrained hostility.

For the first time, his icy composure cracked, replaced by raw, murderous intent directed at Theo.

“That’s what I’d like to ask you, Commander of the Black Iron Brigade. Have you misunderstood the mission’s objective?”

“The mission was to stop the resurrection ritual.”

“No, the mission was to eliminate the blood priests.”

“…”

“Am I wrong?”

Torkel remained silent for a moment.

“Theo Ragnar, do you realize your actions are overstepping your bounds?”

At that moment, Ayian, one of Torkel’s trusted lieutenants, rode forward, glaring at Theo.

“That’s right,” Ayian growled. “I’ve heard the news. You were temporarily promoted to Squad Captain because of your achievements at the White Tower. But that authority applies only to the White Armor Vanguard. You have no jurisdiction over the Black Iron Brigade.”

Ayian’s voice was laced with venom, and the killing intent radiating from him was palpable.

But to Theo, it was nothing more than an irritating itch.

In fact—

WHOOSH!

[Skill Activated: Lesser Drake’s Fear. Enemy momentum suppressed.]

Theo’s aura exploded outward, instantly overwhelming Ayian’s killing intent.

Horses whinnied in fear, and even the warhorses clad in heavy armor began to panic.

Ayian struggled to calm his mount, gritting his teeth in frustration.

“Are you implying that securing an object of such importance is purely within your brigade’s jurisdiction?” Theo asked, his voice sharp.

“What are you insinuating?”

“I’m asking about your real objective.”

Theo’s sharp observation didn’t escape Ayian, whose subtle flinch betrayed his unease.

“Just as I suspected.”

The Black Iron Brigade’s purpose wasn’t the mission’s success—it was something else entirely.

Theo’s mind raced.

“The original order was to assassinate Torkel amidst the chaos. But…”

It was clear now that Ayian and the Black Iron Brigade had already aligned themselves with Torkel.

The entire unit stopped their slaughter and shifted their focus onto Theo.

They were determined to claim the Black Flower for themselves—and would eliminate anyone who stood in their way.

“This isn’t going to be solved with an assassination.”

There was only one option left.

A duel of generals.

Declaration of Intent

Theo planted the Drake Fang into the ground and stared down Torkel, Ayian, and the surrounding Black Iron Brigade.

“Senior Examiner Theo Ragnar, commencing mission.”

[Skill Activated: Hatchling Synchronization. Mind gates opening.]

[Skill Activated: Fairy Buff. Mana greatly increased.]

[Skill Activated: Wyrm Eater. Attack power enhanced.]

WHOOSH!

[Nirvana Unleashed.]

[Dragon Awakening Initiated.]

The artifacts Theo carried, infused with the ancient dragon’s power, flared to life. A tempest of mana erupted around him, whipping his cloak and hair violently.

The world around him seemed to shift, expanding in scope and depth.

This was Nirvana—the mental breakthrough he achieved as a reward for clearing the seventh scenario quest.

His strengthened spiritual state, tempered by witnessing the gods through the Allfather’s Gate, elevated him to a realm far beyond mortal comprehension.

The Black Iron Brigade trembled under the oppressive force radiating from Theo.

“My mission is to eliminate Torkel Ragnar.”

Each word he spoke carried immense weight, reverberating in the hearts of the Black Iron Brigade like a thunderclap.

Ayian and the soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, their faces pale but resolute.

Theo’s final declaration sealed their fate.

“Anyone who interferes will be deemed traitors to the house of Ragnar and executed immediately.”

[All Buff Mode Activated. Duration: 10 minutes.]

CRACKLE! ZAP!

Lightning danced within the mana storm, adding ferocious energy to Theo’s aura.

“Protect the commander!” Ayian shouted desperately, rallying the soldiers around Torkel.

But Theo didn’t hesitate.

BOOM!

He launched himself forward, shattering the ground beneath him as he charged toward Torkel.

“Die!”

The Black Iron Brigade lunged to intercept him, their spears aimed at his vitals.

But Theo’s movements were fluid, his Drake Fang spinning in his hands to deflect every strike.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!

At the same time, three swords—Moonlight, Dragonslayer, and Ghostblade—shot out from his waist, slicing through armored horses and soldiers alike.

SPLAT!

Blood sprayed as several soldiers fell in fragmented pieces, their bodies shattered before they could even scream.

“Damn it—get him!”

More soldiers surged forward, but—

“Heh, looks like this turned into an all-out brawl, huh?”

A playful, mocking voice rang out from above.

In an instant, dozens of energy projectiles rained down like meteors, scattering the Black Iron Brigade.

It was Amore and her team from Squad One, descending to aid Theo.

Amore grinned at him.

“Well, picking fights is a Ragnar tradition, after all. Hehe!”

While the soldiers were thrown into disarray, Theo finally reached Torkel.

Their first clash reverberated through the battlefield like a thunderclap.

BOOM!

But Theo’s attack was halted.

A massive dragon-shaped aura—formed from a mix of dragon force, magic, and something even more sinister—encased Torkel, shielding him.

“I hadn’t planned on revealing this yet,” Torkel said coldly, his expression unreadable. “You’ve grown impressive, little brother. How is it that in just one year, you’ve become strong enough to threaten me? You haven’t even touched the forbidden arts, have you?”

Despite his calm demeanor, his eyes burned with jealousy and hatred.

ZING!

Theo’s Drake Fang quivered violently in his grasp, as if recoiling from the sight before him.

“The Madness of the Dragon Emperor… and the miasma of the Nameless Sovereign?”

Theo furrowed his brow.

Torkel, a Ragnar heir, had not only harnessed one forbidden power but two.

“Who… What are you?”