How To Live As A Genius Knight In A Fantasy World

How To Live As A Genius Knight In A Fantasy World 17

17

The knight of Dutsel, Adenberk, was greatly surprised.

“To think a soldier could display such skill?”

Gollun, who had just fallen to Rohan’s sword, was a man of considerable renown due to his strength and size.

Of course, he was no match for the knights who had been formally trained in swordsmanship and imbued with the power of Aura, but he knew that among the soldiers, there was one who displayed overwhelming skill.

Yet, such a man fell with a single stroke.

It was an event that one could not understand unless the opponent was a knight, but the soldier who had seemed on the brink of death just moments ago appeared to have no connection at all to the title of a knight.

“Still, he won’t last long.”

Clearly, his energy had reached its limit, so Adenberk lost interest and turned away.

Feeling a sense of pity for a man who so pointlessly perished on the battlefield, he witnessed another astonishing sight.

“His energy… is recovering.”

The weary look on his face disappeared, and his trembling body stabilized in an instant.

Even his breathing had clearly recovered, flowing smoothly.

“What…?”

Adenberk furrowed his brow at the phenomenon that even he, a knight who dealt with mysteries, could not comprehend.

Though there were other important matters on the battlefield, his curiosity could not be quelled.

After all, a mere foot soldier, even if possessing mysteries, could not harm a knight like himself.

Thinking it a momentary diversion, Adenberk stood before Rohan.

“A knight…?”

With the appearance of a warrior clad in armor, the atmosphere on the battlefield shifted once more.

The soldiers of Dutsel regained their morale, while those from Friel’s side felt despair.

A presence whose influence was clearly evident just by appearing.

With a knight standing before him, Rohan felt that the end had truly come.

Despite sensing defeat and death, strength surged into the hand that held the sword as he prepared himself.

At that moment of resolve, the knight raised his visor and revealed his face.

A man in his middle age, yet with a handsome appearance that suited the expression “graceful,” faced Rohan.

In a surprising move, both sides of soldiers showed astonished expressions.

Ignoring the murmuring crowd, Adenberk spoke.

“Soldier, what is your name?”

“I am Rohan, Rohan of Izel.”

“Is that so. Do you have any intention of surrendering? I will ensure your safety. It would be a shame for a talented soldier like yourself to perish needlessly in a place like this, wouldn’t it?”

At the unexpected proposal, Rohan’s gaze wavered.

To propose surrender at a moment like this meant it was not simply about saving him.

It meant fighting as a soldier under the banner of Dutsel, or under another noble of Dutsel’s faction.

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Having acknowledged his own talent, if luck was on his side, he might even have the chance to serve under the knight before him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to agree.

His comrades were still by his side, there were supporters relying on him, and even now, the townspeople were watching him, praying for a miracle.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Rohan lowered his head.

“Here I go again, making a foolish decision.”

Blaming his own foolishness, he does not regret his decision.

“I will protect them as a soldier of Izell until I die.”

Upon Rohan’s declaration, admiration sparkled in the knight’s eyes.

Unable to use Aura, the young warrior in front of him already possessed a knight’s spirit.

“A knight before me. It’s a pity that I must strike with my own hands.”

Once his mind was set, there was no hesitation.

The sharp gleam of the drawn sword scattered in an instant.

‘I must endure it without pain.’

With Adenberk’s determination, a blue Aura settled on the sword.

At the sight of the Aura Sword, Rohan’s body, who had never seen it before, tensed up.

Although it was the first time seeing it, he had heard countless stories about its power.

The soldiers who fought alongside the knights, spitting out blood, described it.

“They said it could bend steel.”

If that was indeed true, Rohan’s sword, far from being a masterpiece like the famous sword, might not withstand a single blow.

“I must pour out everything I have in one go.”

Even if he were to die in vain after that one attack, now was not the time to worry about what came after.

Energy flowed through Rohan’s body as he gripped the sword.

An active skill that strengthens a single attack by depleting stamina, ‘Strike of the Warrior King.’

In the midst of the fierce battlefield, the gallantry of a great warrior briefly enveloped Rohan entirely.

Different from Aura, the sword containing life force itself moved along the path of the ancient warrior’s sword.

Having dispelled his fear, Rohan swung his sword towards the towering wall that was the knight.

“An excellent judgment.”

There were countless criminals who, under the pressure of facing a knight, could do nothing and died, as it was as challenging as anything in the century.

Even with remarkable physical abilities, they were still within the category of criminals in the end.

The knight’s attacks were so fast that it was hard for a criminal to even perceive them properly.

Defense was close to the essence of swordsmanship, but without the help of Aura, it was just dead learning.

However, that didn’t mean that having the initiative would enable one to defeat a knight.

It merely increased the probability of prolonging one’s life a bit longer.

The sword, overflowing with enough force to cut down an ordinary soldier, extended from Adenberk’s hand.

As if waiting for the predetermined outcome, indifference filled Adenberk’s eyes.

“Fast.”

The point where the swords collided was much closer than Adenberk had anticipated.

It felt as if he had allowed the knight to take the lead.

Though it was just a remnant, Rohan successfully withstood the knight’s fierce attack mixed with Aura and martial arts.

The clash of swords reverberated across the battlefield, unbelievable to those witnessing it.

“Urgh…”

At the unexpected pain in his hand, Adenberk furrowed his brow.

The hilt of the sword was soaked in the knight’s blood.

“A knight…?”

He muttered unintentionally, but his opponent was already leaning on a sword that seemed ready to break at any moment, having exhausted all his strength in that single strike.

Even though he wanted to forcibly take him as a disciple, he didn’t want to trample on the young man’s determination.

The moment the sword was raised to take a young life.

Adenverk, feeling a sense of unease, quickly turned his body.

Kkeeiik-

Simultaneously, with a displeasing cry, a huge shadow engulfed the knight.

“Kkuk!”

Rolling on the ground to disperse the impact, the sharp claws completely crumpled the shoulder armor.

The pain of torn flesh sharply approached, but there was no room to focus on such pain.

“Wyvern…”

A monster even difficult for a knight to face.

Because the wyvern carrying the rider was still circling above Adenverk’s head.

“aaagh! It’s a monster!”

“Look, it’s a wyvern!”

“Tiglun! Tiglun has arrived!”

“It’s reinforcements!”

With the sudden appearance of the monster, the fortunes of both sides were reversed.

The strongest in the east.

Tiglun’s forces had finally arrived at the Freiel Viscountcy.

The vanguard consisted of only four wyverns and their riders.

But that alone was enough to turn the tide.

Launching a surprise attack, inflicting injuries on the knights, they ascended above, casting spells down on the Dussel formation.

As if that wasn’t enough, they sporadically spewed out fireballs, making it impossible for ordinary soldiers to dare to confront them.

“The wyverns are aiding us! Attack!”

Empowered, the Viscount of Freiel shouted, and the surviving soldiers pushed back the enemy with a battle cry.

“They are few in number! Capture them before Tiglun’s main force arrives!”

Though Dussel Viscount kept shouting, amidst the falling ice and flames from above, there was no way they could muster proper fighting strength.

Even though the injured knights tried to advance to break through, while the wyverns bought time, the area around Viscount Freiel was already occupied by knights.

As Viscount Dussel shouted to fight on, he suddenly fell silent.

‘We’ve lost…’

The war, forced to rise to erase the long-standing enemy, Viscount Freiel, was a struggle that had been brewing for over ten years.

Pooling funds collected over the decades, they had enticed surrounding nobles and even borrowed magical power.

Thinking they could somehow win before Count Tiglun arrived.

‘I was wrong…’

The face of the old man, ambition shattered, suddenly looked much older.

It would be his own downfall.

“aaargh!”

“Kill them all!”

At that moment, a shout was heard from outside the castle walls.

The image of a red lion drawn on a white flag was clearly visible.

It was Tiglun’s banner.

In the eyes of the weary Dujak, the sight of long-nurtured soldiers dying was reflected.

Caught between the Tiglun pressing in from outside and the Freiel holding out from within, there was simply no way to withstand it.

After witnessing the falling soldiers, Dujak suddenly threw off his helmet.

Amidst the clamor, surrounding knights turned in surprise, but they could not stop Dujak from drawing his sword.

“Clang…!”

An old nobleman, having slit his own throat, collapsed, blood spewing.

“Lord!”

“Dujak!”

The knights and soldiers rushed forward, each calling out their titles, but it was already too late.

As Dujak himself had reached the pinnacle of knighthood, his wounds were undeniably deep enough to lead to death.

With his demise, the fierce battle of the territories came to an end.

Witnessing Dujak’s death, knights and soldiers dropped their weapons one by one, shouting surrender.

As Dujak’s forces surrendered, other nobles, realizing the tide had turned, also chose to surrender.

“Cardion surrenders!”

“Tuhrall does the same!”

Following the successive surrenders, Freiel’s soldiers, realizing their victory in the war, cheered.

In this hellish war, they had finally survived.

Amidst the resounding victory cheers, Rohan, who had barely managed to stand, also smiled.

Rohan’s comrades and fellow warriors embraced him, cheering.

“You, your luck is truly astounding…”

Watching this, Adenberk sheathed his sword and muttered.

Though Rohan was still just a common soldier, somehow, there was a feeling that this young man would not end as just a mere soldier.

And so, the battle of the territories came to a close.

With Dujak’s death, who had been the most hostile towards Freiel, even Tiglun participated in the negotiations, making the post-war arrangements smooth.

The nobles who sided with Dujak demanded a substantial amount of compensation, and Dujak’s son, who succeeded him, had to yield not only compensation but also territory and privileges.

With the victory in the war, the gains for Viscount Eizel were substantial.

In the small and rugged territory like Eizel, a vast amount of gold and resources flowed in, unprecedented, and the amount to be divided over the next ten years was staggering.

Feeling elated, he generously rewarded the soldiers who fought, to the extent that the amount was enough to cause a sudden surge in the local economy.

And Rohan also reaped enormous benefits.

Having led the war as the leader of the top ten, he received a larger sum of reward compared to ordinary soldiers.

It was nearly one and a half times the amount, a sum that would not be matched even if Rohan’s lifetime earnings were combined.

‘I’ve never seen so much gold in my life.’

Moreover, his skill proficiency had skyrocketed; the ancient warrior’s swordsmanship was already at 50%, and the proficiency of the newly acquired skills exceeded 40%.

Considering that the proficiency of R-grade skills does not increase easily, this was a remarkable achievement.

In reality, Rohan was much happier with this improvement in skills than the monetary rewards.

Lastly, what he gained was an opportunity.

Rohan’s performance on the battlefield was striking to anyone, and his age was still quite young.

It was only natural for such talent as Rohan’s to attract attention.

He had qualities that knights could consider as an apprentice, yet the reason no offers came for a while was one.

Their lord, Viscount Eizel, had already marked Rohan as his apprentice.

‘Although he had a humble background, he was a talent surpassing him.’

The story of Rohan, who dared to face knights and swords and survived, had become a legendary rumor, but the soldiers who fought alongside him knew it to be true.

There were numerous testimonies, and even Viscount Isel himself had heard the clang of swords colliding.

Being a Viscount who had risen to nobility as a swordsman despite having a non-noble daughter, it was not difficult for Isel to decide to train Rohan as his disciple and successor.

After a long rest to fully recover his strength and when the wounds from the war had healed.

At a sudden call, Rohan headed to the Viscount’s castle unaware of the reason.

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